Chapter 360: Raising My Head to Gaze at the Bright Moon, Turning Back to See the Low White Clouds

The clear night sky above the Ancient Spirit Sect was suddenly covered by dark clouds. The myriad stars vanished, replaced by a torrential downpour.

Before midnight, Lu Jiajia, who had just fallen asleep, was awakened by a startling clap of thunder outside her window.

Wearing a thin garment, she sat up on her bed and looked sideways.

Flashes of lightning intermittently illuminated the paper window, casting a stark white glow on the curtains and furnishings nearby. Listening to the thunder and rain, an extreme, ominous premonition swelled within her.

Xiao Ling was still curled up sleeping beside her, her small body trembling as if she, too, was caught in a nightmare.

Lu Jiajia quietly pushed back her covers and got out of bed. She moved past the jade-inlaid black gauze screen to the window. The dimly flickering light illuminated her close-fitting white robe, and her long black hair appeared raven-blue.

"How could it suddenly start raining...?"

Lu Jiajia lightly caressed her chest, her eyebrows trembling slightly as if touched by frost. She casually grabbed an outer robe and draped it over herself before opening the door. Her delicate feet touched the tiles, which felt as cold as snow. She focused her gaze northward, towards the direction of Myriad Demon City, but could see nothing but the vast, pouring rain.

She had a persistent feeling that she was about to lose something forever...

This was the same feeling she had when she watched Ning Changjiu leap into the abyss.

"Am I overthinking this, or is it...?"

Beneath her flowing, cloud-like sleeves, Lu Jiajia tightly clenched her palms. Logically, although her Sword Heart wasn't perfectly refined, it was certainly clear and perceptive. How could it be disturbed by a mere downpour?

Lu Jiajia stood under the eaves, her slender body taut in her snow-white robes. Lost in thought, she suddenly heard a woman's voice.

"This heavy rain is truly peculiar."

Lu Jiajia was slightly startled. She turned her head to see Liu Junzhuo emerging from the hazy rain, holding an umbrella and wearing her sword. Her figure, though vague in the dark rain, seemed as strong as a pine or cypress despite the strong wind billowing her sword attire.

She looked at Lu Jiajia's lonely figure in the rain and said, "Thinking about your disciple again?"

Lu Jiajia looked at her and asked, "Why are you here?"

Liu Junzhuo replied, "This rain isn't right. I guessed you'd wake up, so I came to check."

She walked under the wide eaves of the Nine Nether Hall, folded her umbrella, her cool, clear eyes misty with rain.

Lu Jiajia asked, "What's wrong with this rain?"

Liu Junzhuo replied, "I can't quite say, but tonight was cloudless. This rain seems to have been summoned by the Dragon King himself, appearing out of nowhere, without any reason."

Lu Jiajia sighed softly and asked, "Does Second Master not know either?"

Liu Junzhuo said, "I've already searched the surroundings with my sword and even ascended to a high altitude to investigate, but found no traces of divine power fluctuations. In short... it's very strange."

As Lu Jiajia listened, she suddenly remembered the red carp she had seen during the day, though she didn't know why.

Lu Jiajia said, "The celestial phenomena in Middle-earth have been chaotic lately anyway. It probably isn't a major issue, right?"

Liu Junzhuo looked at her profile and asked, "Did Siming and your disciple go to Myriad Demon City?"

Lu Jiajia was slightly startled. "You... how did you know?"

Liu Junzhuo said, "You constantly look north, and there's only one city in that direction. I heard you're collecting the authority of the Underworld. If my guess isn't wrong, some of that authority must have been lost in the demon city, right?"

Lu Jiajia was silent for a moment, then nodded gently and said, "Yes, Second Master is truly resourceful."

Liu Junzhuo looked at her face and noticed that her expression was soft at the moment, her skin in the lightning flashes rivaling frost and snow, with a hint of delicate fragility. She was far from the overbearing presence she had been during the day; indeed, she looked quite pitiable.

Lu Jiajia raised her eyes, looked seriously at Liu Junzhuo, and asked, "Second Master, why have you sought me out so late at night?"

Liu Junzhuo asked, "How is your body recovering?"

Lu Jiajia looked slightly puzzled and said, "I wasn't injured in today's sword practice."

Liu Junzhuo looked at the pouring rain and said, "Then let's start the final match early."

Lu Jiajia softly asked, "Why?"

Liu Junzhuo seriously replied, "Because your Sword Heart is becoming more and more unsettled. For every hour you stand here, your chances of winning decrease by one point."

Lu Jiajia's body trembled slightly. Her thoughts had been seen through. She pursed her lips, lowered her head, and said, "I'm fine. It's just some longing; it's nothing serious."

Liu Junzhuo gave her a deep look and said, "I hope so."

"Yes, I want to sleep a bit more." Lu Jiajia bowed, then slowly turned and walked back into the room.

The door quietly closed, shutting out the thunderstorm.

Liu Junzhuo stood at the doorway, watching the rain, not leaving.

Summer had not yet arrived, but a stifling heat was already pervasive. Liu Junzhuo stood at the doorway for half an hour; there was no sign of the rain easing. Just as she was about to leave, the sound of the door opening again echoed behind her.

She turned her head and saw Lu Jiajia standing at the doorway, her dark hair dishevelled. Beneath her slender, moth-like brows, her autumn-water eyes were somewhat red and swollen.

Liu Junzhuo put away the umbrella she was about to open and turned to look at her.

Lu Jiajia raised her head and said seriously, "Let the final sword strike be tonight."

As Liu Junzhuo had said, in this untimely rain, her Sword Heart grew increasingly chaotic. She couldn't sleep at all; instead, sword energy seemed to churn within her chest, eager to unleash a strike and cleave through the torrential rain, unable to be suppressed.

Liu Junzhuo sighed softly, "You've lost another ten percent of your chances."

Lu Jiajia asked, "What were they originally?"

Liu Junzhuo smiled calmly and said, "There was never any chance to begin with."

The door gently closed.

In the heavy rain, atop the high cliff, the Fish King watched Moonlit Lake from his lakeside cave. In the lake, the red carp churned its body, occasionally leaping out of the water to reveal its crimson back.

Its expression was solemn.

It didn't know who or what this fish truly was, but it knew that the pervasive rain must have been caused by it.

"What exactly is this fish trying to do?"

As the Fish King pondered, he saw two umbrellas approaching through the heavy rain, the figures of the women beneath them indistinct in the downpour.

It was indeed Lu Jiajia and Liu Junzhuo.

The red fish silently dived to the bottom of the lake.

They stood apart on the water's surface, and Lu Jiajia slowly raised the sword in her hand.

Raindrops struck the surface around her feet, creating ripples across the lake.

The ripples spread out in expanding circles.

Fires flickered and sprayed.

Zhao Xiang'er, holding her sword, glided in her black battle attire over the lake where flames converged. Where her toes touched, small ripples spread in circles.

Peacock King's head shifted slightly, its colorful, glass-like demonic eyes tracking Zhao Xiang'er's figure.

Zhao Xiang'er continuously leaped and moved across the fiery lake. As Peacock King's massive figure approached, she suddenly turned and sprang up, boldly thrusting her sword. The white gleam of the sword extended for dozens of feet, aiming for Peacock King's neck.

Peacock King watched her with cold eyes, not even bothering to dodge. It merely shook its tail feathers, and a series of True Word Seals vibrated forth, descending like golden Buddha fingers, crushing towards the girl's position. Wherever a finger landed, golden lotuses bloomed.

Zhao Xiang'er's delicate body flickered within the Buddha's light. She bit her bloodshot teeth, and suddenly the Nine Feathers appeared beneath her feet. She stepped onto the back of the Nine Feathers, kicked off forcefully, and darted through the golden shadows, her body like a nail, plunging into Peacock King's neck.

But before she could steady herself, ten thousand rays of golden light descended, striking her body as densely as raindrops.

Zhao Xiang'er crossed her arms in front of her, quickly mobilizing her spiritual energy for defense, but her defense was swiftly shattered. Peacock King suddenly let out a sharp cry, angrily swung its neck, and flapped its wings, stirring up a great wind that sent Zhao Xiang'er flying.

The girl's falling figure was like a black ball. She bounced sharply several times on the ground, narrowly avoiding subsequent attacks before finally coming to a stop. She gasped violently, her body burning hot. The sleeves of her arm-garments were shredded, and her slender forearms were covered in dense, countless wounds. The injuries hadn't had time to heal; they were still bleeding, tracing lines along her palms and dripping from the tip of her red umbrella.

After a day of confrontation, she was almost completely exhausted.

Earlier, when she unleashed her world and managed to draw Peacock King into it at the last possible moment, she had believed the crucial point of victory was at hand. However, the outcome far exceeded her expectations; within her world, Peacock King simply flew out with effortless ease.

The legend was true: a Buddha once trapped it within three thousand worlds, but the Peacock roamed the great void, shattered those worlds, and ultimately swallowed the Buddha!

Her ultimate power, held in reserve, was effortlessly shattered. The girl felt as if she had lost an arm, plunging into a hopeless, bitter battle.

Her spiritual energy was almost completely depleted from the prolonged battle, and her numerous injuries slowed her movements more and more. The pain brought persistent fatigue; many times, as she wielded her sword, she even felt disoriented, nearly collapsing into sleep.

"Am I going to die here...?" Zhao Xiang'er slowly raised her head, her picturesque features serene and cold. Blood streamed from her hair, flowed over her porcelain-white face, and dripped from her delicate, pointed chin.

Her body was covered in potential knives—the numerous wounds. Once the injuries reached their limit, they would all erupt at once, turning into a thousand cuts, sending her to hell.

Peacock King's True Word Seals descended again with ornate flourishes, and the nine suns on its tail screen became even more scorching.

Zhao Xiang'er dodged with breathtaking agility.

But the seals were faster, striking precisely on her back.

Zhao Xiang'er took a solid hit, her body flung backward, breaking several ash-colored rock pillars. She struggled to rise from the dust, but the Arrow of Blazing Sun struck again, straightforwardly, scorching the surrounding air into distortion. Even with her umbrella open, her body was again flung back, slamming hard into the ash, blood splattering.

She struggled to her feet as True Word Seals rained down. Peacock King's inhuman, demonic cries echoed incessantly in her ears. It felt as if a pair of scissors was plunging into her brain, constantly twisting, and from within her torn flesh, demons writhed and burst forth, emitting sharp, mad laughter.

Zhao Xiang'er silently recited a calming incantation, suppressing these illusions. Her delicate eyelashes were matted with blood, making it difficult to open her eyes. Unable to dodge in time, her body was again struck by the raining True Words, slamming into a wall of condensed air.

There was no retreat left.

Zhao Xiang'er coughed up large mouthfuls of blood. Her hand could barely grip her sword. In the stirred-up dust of ash-rock, Peacock King strode forward, chest held high, like a magnificent temple. The ground vibrated with its steps, and the oppressive feeling was almost despair-inducing.

Through her trembling eyelashes, Zhao Xiang'er could no longer clearly see Peacock King's figure. In her vision, only the nine great suns were drawing nearer.

Nine suns...

She suddenly recalled the legend of Hou Yi shooting down the nine suns...

No! That's not right, it's not Hou Yi shooting the suns, but... A thought suddenly flashed in Zhao Xiang'er's mind: Legend has it that the Golden-winged Great Peng had two ultimate techniques: the Great Sun Buddha Kingdom Diagram and the Yang Phoenix Azure Feather Sword.

The Buddha Kingdom Diagram contained gods, demons, and humans, and the Azure Feather Swords were also nine in number! Each god or demon wielded one sword.

Those were techniques specifically designed by the Golden-winged Great Peng to counter Peacock King!

Nine gods and demons, nine swords, why nine?!

The scattered light re-coalesced in her pupils. She looked at the suns on Peacock King's tail screen and immediately understood—perhaps those nine blazing suns were Peacock King's true weakness.

In the past, she had always believed that weaknesses were usually hidden in secret places, heavily protected. But these nine blazing suns were too conspicuous and too powerful, and with nine of them, it seemed impossible to completely pierce them all. Attacking them would be tantamount to playing with fire.

But wasn't this precisely one of the blind spots in her thinking?

But what could she do?

Zhao Xiang'er opened her hand, and the Nine Feathers were summoned again, transforming into a black bow as her spiritual sea shifted.

The black bow had no string.

She extended her slender fingers, constructing an invisible string. The faint vibration of the string resonated back to her fingertips.

The surrounding flowing fires quieted. Zhao Xiang'er opened one eye, the Moon essence adhering to it. The string of the Nine Feathers was drawn, and amidst a humming vibration, the surrounding flames miraculously subsided. The firelight lost its color, and as she flexed her finger to pluck, a blazing arrow materialized on the string!

The Nine Feathers seemed to sense danger and suddenly stopped moving.

Zhao Xiang'er drew the bow to its fullest extent.

The arrow tore through the air, shooting towards the blazing sun in the center.

But this was not an arrow of hope; it was truly an arrow of despair.

The arrow stopped with a hum just outside the blazing sun, then shattered inch by inch, falling as ash.

Zhao Xiang'er watched this scene from afar, her arms drooping powerlessly.

Her cultivation level was, after all, too low...

Peacock King was only a few dozen feet away from her.

She tried to draw her sword but realized it had been knocked out of her hand earlier in the battle and had fallen into the fiery lake. Her red umbrella was empty and couldn't protect her much longer.

Everything was about to end.

The blood on the girl's beautiful face was alluring like an illusion.

Zhao Xiang'er usually intended to recall her life before embracing death. But she realized she was only nineteen; there wasn't much to remember in her life.

Only the banyan tree of her childhood, the rain in the imperial city when she was sixteen, the red moon over Linhe City, the various events during their three-year约定, and finally, the incomplete wedding...

And that dream, both real and illusory.

This was her whole life, brief as a single blooming season.

Peacock King stopped, not out of pity, but because it wanted to end this battle with the grandest means possible.

Before it, a Dharma disk spun like a wheel, reversing its motion, and a single emerald feather emerged from it.

The Peacock Plume.

This was the true Peacock Plume!

It was the legendary weapon of the human world, associated only with death, an arrow of inevitable killing.

Torrential rain, lightning, muddy and slippery stone steps, trees bent by the gale, and all the dark, oppressive elements closing in on his vision.

This was all Ning Changjiu could see.

The fiercely falling raindrops poured down like mercury, pressing with a roaring force. Though his body wasn't completely spent, his spiritual energy was nearly exhausted. Even so, he insisted on dedicating a portion of it to shield Siming from the rain.

"Don't fall asleep... You're on my back right now, and you said you don't like sleeping with me. You have to keep your word..." Ning Changjiu's voice was hoarse and choked.

Siming was not yet unconscious; her fingertips, dangling in front of Ning Changjiu, were still trembling. A faint reddish glow now covered her porcelain-white face, and along her long eyelashes, a dark red diffused like smoke, like drawn eyeliner, yet surpassing all human cosmetics in beauty.

Like Zhao Xiang'er, the ultimate beauty that now appeared on her face was the uniquely poignant splendor that precedes death.

Separated by thousands of miles, they shared a common, resolute beauty.

Ning Changjiu didn't know Zhao Xiang'er's current situation. If he were to see the scene in the Vermillion Bird's illusion again, his already faltering Dao Heart would likely shatter into pieces.

Siming's voice was very low: "Mmm, I'll keep my word."

Ning Changjiu spoke hesitantly, "Hold on, we're on Mount Kunlun now. Once we reach the peak, we'll see Master... My Master's powers are immense, she'll definitely save you! Besides, haven't you always wanted to meet her?"

Siming had actually seen the characters for Tianzhu Peak. Her nose felt a pang of sadness, but she still hummed in affirmation.

Ning Changjiu leaped over more than ten steps in a single stride, his figure moving rapidly. He said in a hurried voice, "And... Jiajia is still waiting for us. If I go back alone, how sad would she be? You are Jiajia's illusion, you wouldn't bear to see her cry..."

Siming thought of Lu Jiajia's face; that face was not quite clear in her fragile memory. Their first meeting in Luoshu Tower felt like yesterday, while the sound of waves at Dragon-rearing Cliff was already a dream.

Her eyes grew darker and darker.

Seeing no response, Ning Changjiu turned his head, glanced at her, and softly said, "Xue... Xueci?"

Siming slowly regained consciousness. Her body was incredibly light, like a camellia resting on his left shoulder.

"Mm... I... *cough*, I'm listening," Siming said softly.

Ning Changjiu sniffed, supporting her legs, and leaped into the dark, boundless rain.

Along the way, Ning Changjiu recounted many things for her: the various events in Broken Realm City, the sunrise at the end of the Shan Hai Heng Liu Scripture, the new moon watched by the dry well, their meeting in Luoshu, the fireworks and paper kites that followed, the drunken snowy nights... these were all their cherished memories.

Ning Changjiu broke down the memories, transforming them into a desperate plea.

Siming could feel his intentions. Only now did she realize how much they had experienced. The two years since their meeting in Broken Realm felt longer than a thousand years of the past. For the first time, she bravely examined her own heart... She had always missed the Divine Official's crown from seven hundred years ago, but now, within her petal-like heart, only the white-robed youth remained, smiling, calm and gentle.

She wished to embrace him forever, to hold him close, but it was too late.

The Golden-winged Great Peng couldn't kill her, nor could the Nine-Spirits Holy King. No living being could kill her. The true killer, the one who could and would kill her, was this world itself, where she was situated. It had been waiting for this moment... this was the most crucial oversight she had made... she should have realized it sooner.

She realized it with a start, but it was too late.

The sundial's fragmentation was irreversible.

With a crash, lightning once again illuminated the sky.

Under Ning Changjiu's feet, the steps turned into flat ground.

This wasn't Kunlun; it was merely a slightly taller mountain peak.

He had reached the end.

Before him, a dark figure sat cross-legged, its wings drooping. Its back was densely covered with wounds, thick blood mixed with rainwater flowed freely, and its body appeared withered in the downpour. It was hunched over, its bony spine rising and falling. Its muscle-torn arm was half-raised, resting on something in front of it, as if it had also run out of strength.

"You've finally arrived," the Golden-winged Great Peng lifted its head, looking at the dark rain and night sky.

Siming, lying on Ning Changjiu's shoulder, her voice thin, squeezed out a few syllables: "Put... me down. Kill it."

Ning Changjiu nodded heavily.

"Okay, kill it," he said, enunciating each word, as he gently lowered her. His forehead touched hers, and he added, "You absolutely must not sleep, or I'll never forgive you..."

Siming leaned against a nearby tree, revealing a faint, poignant smile. "Mm... I'll wait for you to come back and sleep."

Ning Changjiu's body trembled, his chest felt as if scalded by hot oil, and tears streamed uncontrollably. He drew his Yulei sword, and his tensed body slowly rose, murderous intent filling every joint. He turned around, roared, and charged towards the Golden-winged Great Peng.

The Golden-winged Great Peng, gripping the staff in its hand, also slowly rose. Its bones creaked and groaned; its already fractured skeleton was on the verge of falling apart.

It glanced at the massive bow behind it.

This was Tianzhu Peak.

This was where its sacred artifact lay.

It had thought that after enduring life and death, it could finally retrieve it from this desperate situation.

But life, after all, was not a myth.

It was nearing its end, yet the sacred artifact remained like bedrock, unmoving in the fierce storm.

Ning Changjiu roared as he collided, like a tiger starved for four thousand years. Every roar was the frantic clang of bones smashing together.

Siming's eyes fluttered open slightly.

In the vast expanse of rain, she saw fireworks... sparks from the clash of sword and staff, exploding one after another, vibrant and beautiful.

Exactly as she remembered them.

The fireworks grew more distant.

It was a pity that this time, Jiajia and Xiao Ling were not there to watch the fireworks.

She didn't know that, at this very moment, Lu Jiajia was also on the verge of defeat.

And a complete defeat at that.

Liu Junzhuo, though valuing talent, showed no mercy. After this one sword strike, Lu Jiajia's entire path of cultivation might be severed, leaving her forever stuck at the peak of the Purple Court realm.

The God of Fate seemed to be playing some cruel joke, simultaneously delivering a decree of misfortune, implicating all lovers, with the mandate that it could not be defied!

A sharp, metallic clang erupted.

Ning Changjiu roared, forcing the Golden-winged Great Peng to retreat step by step. The Golden-winged Great Peng wielded its divine staff, which grew increasingly less solid. From time to time, a monkey-faced, pointy-mouthed visage would appear on it, holding its head and screaming in agony, as if unwilling to remain a weapon and wanting to revert to its original form.

The Golden-winged Great Peng focused most of its strength on restraining the sacred artifact, unable to withstand Ning Changjiu's assault, and was directly knocked over the cliff by him.

The Golden-winged Great Peng spread its wings, creating a burst of wind. Amidst the torrential rain, it stared at Ning Changjiu, its voice chilling to the bone: "You think you can kill me?"

Ning Changjiu's voice was equally hoarse and resentful; it sounded unlike his own... Thousands of years ago, he seemed to have uttered a similarly venomous curse at a similar moment: "I will tear you open, break your neck and shatter your skull, cutting you down so you can never enter reincarnation!"

Amidst his furious roar, Ning Changjiu's iron-like shoulders rose. The Asura body once again emerged from within him, but no longer in its majestic form.

The Asura was twisted, emaciated, like a ghost that had endured the torments of purgatory a million times.

It wore a brilliant golden exterior, yet it emitted a piercing, chilling shriek.

Ning Changjiu, in his torn, blood-stained clothes, also resembled a ghost.

He had truly merged with the Asura. Gripping his sword with both hands, he brandished Yulei, roaring as he lunged at the Golden-winged Great Peng.

After a brief clash, the sound of bones shattering echoed once more.

The Golden-winged Great Peng had never encountered such power. Before it, what charged at it was no human, but clearly a demon consumed by hatred! It parried wearily, its sternum caving in from the impact, its body twisting out of shape.

It let out a cry of pain, then, gathering all its remaining strength, swung its staff downward.

Ning Changjiu didn't even look at the staff strike. He cut into the gaps of the staff's movements, a cold light arcing.

*Crunch*.

The Golden-winged Great Peng's right arm was severed!

The hand gripping the Ruyi Black Iron Divine Staff fell down the dark cliff.

It tried to retrieve it with its thoughts, but Ning Changjiu's sword was already descending again, piercing directly through its thin chest.

The sword blade passed through its body.

Ning Changjiu looked up at it, his young face a contorted mix of the joy of slaying a powerful foe and the grief of losing a loved one. Extreme emotions twisted and intertwined, forming a haunting, grotesque beauty.

Ning Changjiu pressed against its body, flying upwards.

The Golden-winged Great Peng could no longer endure the threat of death. Its other half-mask also shattered, peeling away to reveal its ugly face.

It furiously flapped its wings, and the last of its spiritual energy surged out as if in self-detonation!

Amidst the exploding flesh, Ning Changjiu couldn't hold on. His body was thrown back, slamming heavily onto the cliff.

In mid-air, the Golden-winged Great Peng's appearance was horrifying—its chest cavity was completely empty, shattered bones and flesh continually falling. Rain threads passed through the void, yet at the edges of its broken body, its heart was still vividly beating.

It was certainly doomed to die.

But in its final moments, it was unwilling to have its limbs and wings severed like a wild bird, only to ultimately be pierced through the heart by a sword.

It lowered its head, looked at its heart, and suddenly revealed a grin of grim satisfaction.

"Then... let's die together."

The tattered Buddha Kingdom Diagram, reduced to golden threads, unfurled. Nine gods and demons, their expressions compassionate, walked forward one by one and entered its body.

It hung in the air, like a hanged ghost, or like the sun—a setting sun about to plunge into the valley, never to rise again.

The torrential rain continued to fall. Ning Changjiu rose from the cliff edge, lifting his head to look at the golden sun that had abruptly appeared in the rain. The gates of his memory burst wide open.

"Shoot it down! Shoot it down!"

Inside him, some voice seemed to be shouting... No, that wasn't anyone's voice; it was the surging roar of his own bloodline!

But where was a bow to be found?

His hand rested on the petrified sacred artifact.

The Taoist Nun's Pure Yang Secret Scroll truly ignited.

The Golden-winged Great Peng, which had already resigned itself to death, had never imagined it would witness such a sight in its final moments!

Ning Changjiu gripped the stone bow, slowly lifting its steel-like body.

The stone bow trembled, and its weathered rock surface peeled away, revealing the masterful, strong contours beneath.

Siming looked at his figure holding the bow, and her last remaining doubt was resolved... 'It was you, after all,' she murmured to herself.

Ning Changjiu gripped the bow, and unimaginable power surged through him. His eyes glowed red, and as his finger hooked the string, the surrounding wind, rain, and lightning were awed by the divine bow, swirling and converging to form a straight arrow shaft upon the bow.

The Golden-winged Great Peng's ultimate killing move had not yet fully charged. If he unleashed a single arrow, he could utterly destroy it.

However, the Golden-winged Great Peng was, after all, a generation's Demon Saint. It did not lose its wits in excessive shock, nor did it allow itself to be slaughtered.

It frantically flapped its wings, constantly flashing and changing positions in the air.

Ning Changjiu's golden eyes couldn't lock onto its position!

His finger, hooked on the bowstring, trembled incessantly. He gasped for breath, a furious rage boiling within him.

And at this cursed moment, his mind, exhausted to the extreme, inexplicably fell into a trance.

In the Vermillion Bird's illusion.

The True Word Seals transformed into a massive crossbow.

The Peacock Plume was also loaded.

On one side, Ning Changjiu aimed his divine bow at the Golden-winged Great Peng, while on the other, Peacock King aimed its divine crossbow at Zhao Xiang'er.

Arch-enemies... husband and wife... bow and arrow versus crossbow... how profound and mysterious fate truly was.

Zhao Xiang'er wanted to dodge, but she knew she couldn't.

She was also awaiting the pronouncement of death.

In her final memories, she lingered in the three-year dream.

In that three-year dream, she didn't actually blame Siming for anything; on the contrary, she even admired her. She knew that beneath Siming's beautiful exterior, there was actually a kind, pure heart. Lu Jiajia couldn't have known that what she had been feeling... was actually anger towards Ning Changjiu... whether it was selfishness or possessiveness, it was just anger...

But I'm not angry anymore.

The wedding a year ago was left unfinished; that was my biggest regret. If there's another reincarnation, I hope a marriage contract can still bind us together.

Perfection might not be ideal, but regret is certainly not what I desire either.

I'm not angry anymore, not angry anymore... Just let me see you one more time.

At the critical moment of life and death, Zhao Xiang'er also fell into a trance.

Above the two, separated by vast distance, a Daoist temple gate suddenly swung open.

A large tree, covered in pure white blossoms, swayed in the courtyard.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the trees.

Ning Changjiu and Zhao Xiang'er stood facing each other.

This was where they began in the three-year dream.

They both appeared to be sixteen years old.

They looked at each other, their eyes trembling.

Ning Changjiu didn't know how he had arrived here; his consciousness was hazy and indistinct. He simply extended his hand by instinct.

"A promise to grow old together," he said.

Zhao Xiang'er bit her lip, her voice trembling as she cried out, "An oath of paired lovers!"

"Your Highness, forever."

"To forge our destiny together."

"With solemn vows as our pledge," Ning Changjiu said.

"And the Divine Sparrow and Jade Toad as our horizon," Zhao Xiang'er responded.

"Red thread long tied, auspicious candles shared," Ning Changjiu stated firmly.

"From black hair to white, the Dao and companion," Zhao Xiang'er's words were resolute.

"May our union be perfect..." Ning Changjiu's tears fell like rain.

Zhao Xiang'er was already sobbing uncontrollably, her voice raw as she cried, "May our hearts be forever united!"

In the dream, within the Daoist temple, the spirits of the two transformed into beams of light, intertwining—these were the burning Daoist Pure Yang Scroll and the Daoist Nun's Lunar Scroll!

The two merged seamlessly, a boundless spiritual sublimation!

Above Moonlit Lake,

Lu Jiajia knelt on the water's surface, her body slowly sinking. The light raindrops weighed like ten thousand catties. That was Liu Junzhuo's sword.

Liu Junzhuo truly lived up to her title as Second Master of the Sword Pavilion. Her final sword strike was even more formidable than the previous two combined, almost an overwhelming force. The entire sky, the whole torrential rain, seemed to be her roaring sword.

On the dark lake surface, no fish could leap out of the water to help her break free.

Her clothes were completely soaked by the rain. Her Sword Spirit, merged with her body, was crushed to disintegration, and the lake of her spiritual energy had almost entirely evaporated.

This was the final moment.

Liu Junzhuo couldn't imagine any possibility of breaking this stalemate.

Neither could Lu Jiajia.

But at this very moment, a celestial voice suddenly resounded in her Sea of Consciousness:

"The people in the temple have harmonized; the command talisman is complete. Grant Sword Child one hundred."

Before Lu Jiajia could react, myriad sword intents instantly surged within her body!

That was not a Sword Heart as conventionally understood; it was more like a thousand-year-lost jade being inlaid onto the sword embryo within her. Thus, all that was broken became perfectly whole, and the bottleneck of the Purple Court could no longer impede her!

Liu Junzhuo's pupils suddenly contracted. Before she could react, the lake before her erupted, and the overwhelming sword intent was instantly shattered, recoiling back towards her!

On the cliff of Tianzhu Peak, Ning Changjiu was momentarily stunned. He didn't know what had happened, but he had gained everything from the Daoist Ancient Lunar Divine Scroll!

He opened his eyes, no longer golden, but Eyes of the Moon.

He lifted his head, locking onto the rapidly moving and accumulating power of the Golden-winged Great Peng.

The arrowhead pointed at the red sun.

In the Vermillion Bird's illusion, Zhao Xiang'er received everything from the Daoist Ancient Pure Yang Divine Scroll. Within her, the missing power ignited.

As the Peacock Plume approached, her figure abruptly shot up from the ground, countless times faster.

With the Nine Feathers in hand, transforming into a divine bow, she drew the bow and notched an arrow. The surging power within her transformed into an arrow of infinite light.

As the arrow left the string, the sound was like a thunderous roar.

On Peacock King's tail screen, the suns shattered one after another.

Eight blazing suns were completely shattered.

Peacock King shrieked, roared, and lunged madly at Zhao Xiang'er.

Zhao Xiang'er aimed at the last blazing sun, but she had also exhausted her newfound power and could no longer form an arrow.

But she wasn't flustered.

She raised her umbrella.

The sword, which had previously fallen into the fiery lake, was drawn by the red umbrella and flew back instantly, as swift as lightning!

The sword, the golden sun, the umbrella. The three aligned.

The sword returned to its scabbard.

The last golden sun exploded!

The golden sun on Tianzhu Peak also exploded almost simultaneously.

Ning Changjiu shot that arrow.

It was an arrow infused with all his heart and emotions, an arrow that had been delayed for so long, seemingly for a millennium.

The strong winds reversed course.

The Golden-winged Great Peng was struck by the arrow; its heart exploded. The arrow, impaling its remaining divine soul protected by a saint, flew into the cold sky.

The arrow pierced through the clouds.

Clouds within a hundred-mile radius shattered, a giant hole blasted through them by the arrow.

The torrential rain ceased abruptly!

Ning Changjiu had no time to admire the spectacle of his arrow. He turned around and rushed towards Siming.

From the treetops, raindrops fell, striking Siming's serene face.

Her spotless face was now stained with a trace of dust.

Ning Changjiu embraced her.

"Xueci... Xueci?" he softly called her name, his chest filling with bitter tears. "Wake up, wake up... I killed it, I killed it... We've had our revenge. Let's... go home... Xiao Ling and Jiajia are waiting for us."

At his desperate call, Siming actually opened her eyes.

This was her last lingering look.

She gazed at him calmly, using all her long-saved strength to softly say, "That day, the mirror... I peeled a fruit, and I... I saw you, so clearly..."

Ning Changjiu wept bitterly. "I know, I know all of it..."

"I thought you didn't know..." Siming offered a faint smile.

"It's good that you know..." She had no more strength, collapsing into Ning Changjiu's arms. The sundial was covered in cracks, and her last breath was so faint, so fragile, it seemed it could be swept away by the wind at any moment.

Ning Changjiu held her, feeling life slip away in his embrace.

On Tianzhu Peak, he wept uncontrollably, his voice hoarse from anguish.

What good was it to break through to the Five Paths, to gain Heaven-reaching power? A hero returns in triumph, only to find his beloved turned to dust. For whom did he toil and fight in those decades of battle?

He continuously poured spiritual energy into Siming's body, but it was futile.

"What to do, what to do?!"

Grief was like countless knives, piercing his body along with the pain of his wounds.

Through his tears, he suddenly saw a beam of light. He wondered if it was an illusion.

Where did the light come from?

He froze, then trembled as he turned his head.

"Xueci..." he whispered softly.

"Xueci!"

Ning Changjiu looked up, his whole body shaking uncontrollably.

Ning Changjiu couldn't describe his feelings at that moment; on his tear-streaked face, his smile was almost distorted.

"Xueci, Xueci... I see Kunlun!" he exclaimed.

Kunlun...

It was precisely midnight.

The clouds he had pierced earlier had not yet closed.

All around was darkness, save for a gentle beam of moonlight that fell through the clouds, landing precisely behind him.

At midnight, the Jade Toad hung in the sky.

Beneath the vast heavens, there was nothing else.

Only moonlight reached the heavens!