The Fated One fled at lightning speed, with Jiang Luo hot on his heels.
As he chased, Jiang Luo sneered, “Fated One, look at how pathetic you are now. Like a drowned rat. What are you so afraid of?”
“Didn’t you want to become a god? Why are you running away now?”
His gaze locked onto the Fated One’s back—specifically, the area over his heart.
The dagger in his hand gleamed with the reflection of the golden dragon coiled around it.
“A person dies when they lose their heart.”
Jiang Luo decided to take Hei Wuchang’s warning in its most literal sense.
The Fated One was still “a person.” As long as he was human, the heart was his fatal weak point.
His eyes grew sharper and more deadly.
In a moment like this, even a second wasted could cost him everything. If he had the chance, Jiang Luo would not hesitate to drive the dagger into the Fated One’s chest.
As if sensing the imminent danger from behind, the Fated One picked up speed. But just as he dashed out through the temple gates, he abruptly stopped.
The whole of Dazhao Temple was silent and empty—not a monk in sight. Yet in front of him stood eight people, neatly blocking his path.
From Lu Youyi holding his massive Teng Bi blade to Qi Ye, who had no spiritual body—every one of them stood with grim expressions, fully alert and prepared.
These people were not enough to pose a threat to the Fated One on their own. What made him freeze was the fact that their positioning and the formation under their feet combined into an intricate magical array.
If he stepped into it, he’d need time to get out. And if he was delayed even for a few seconds, Jiang Luo would catch up.
It looked like a road to certain death.
But instead, the Fated One instantly calmed. When Jiang Luo burst out of the temple after him, the Fated One even turned and gave him a faint smile.
“It’s been two hundred years,” his voice was hoarse—his vocal cords injured, but he could still speak. “Two hundred years… I haven’t killed a single person.”
Jiang Luo’s eyelid twitched. He made a move to stop him—
But he was already too late.
The Fated One reached out, his fingers curved into a claw, and in a flash, he seized the throat of Ge Zhu—the one closest to him. With a tone that sounded almost like a sigh, he said, “But today, if I don’t kill someone… someone will kill me.”
His hope of becoming a god had shattered. He had been played for a fool.
In the end, it seemed whether or not he killed people didn’t matter anymore.
Anger and despair, long dormant, surged through him and reawakened his innate cruelty.
He snapped Ge Zhu’s limbs to prevent him from escaping, then dragged him down the mountain at lightning speed.
The formation was forcefully broken.
Lu Youyi shouted in disbelief, “Ge Zhu—!”
The Fated One used Ge Zhu’s life to force Jiang Luo into retreat.
With Ge Zhu in his hands, he held a card that might ensure his escape.
Jiang Luo’s pupils contracted. His excellent vision made him witness every detail of the Fated One twisting and breaking Ge Zhu’s limbs.
He watched helplessly as the Fated One carried Ge Zhu away, watched the grotesquely bent angles of Ge Zhu’s arms and legs.
Bang. Fury erupted inside Jiang Luo like a blazing inferno.
His eyes were red with rage.
But the angrier he got, the calmer he became. Lips pressed into a tight line, he quickly took off in pursuit.
The Fated One had already fled Dazhao Temple.
He moved swiftly. Meanwhile, Ge Zhu’s breathing was growing weaker and weaker.
Ge Zhu stared up at the swiftly passing rooftops of the temple, and the dense, overlapping leaves of the trees.
Pain screamed from every nerve. His body dragged against the ground, leaving a long trail of blood.
The sky was dark. Heavy clouds made day feel like night. The gray-white sky churned slowly above.
For a moment, Ge Zhu felt like he was a child again.
Back then, when he was just a little monk, he often lay like this staring up at the sky, full of curiosity about the world.
Back then, his whole world was only as big as the Dazhao Temple. And whether it was sunny or raining, there was always another naive boy beside him—Ge Wuchen.
He and Ge Wuchen were the only biological brothers among the orphans the temple had taken in.
Ge Zhu’s gaze had already begun to blur. In a haze, he could hear his own ragged breathing, see the distant friends chasing behind him—
And feel the last of his life slipping away.
He wondered, did Ge Wuchen once feel this kind of pain too?
When he was forced to betray the temple, forced to carry the sin of patricide and killing his own Master… was it this agonizing?
Because right now, Ge Zhu could only feel unbearable pain.
Even worse than when Ge Wuchen nearly beat him to death—when his tears and blood ran down his face together.
“Ge Zhu!!!”
Ge Wuchen’s voice rang out ahead—collapsing, furious, and on the verge of madness.
That sharp, despairing cry instantly snapped Ge Zhu back to awareness.
The Fated One halted his steps.
Because right in front of him stood Ge Wuchen, Liao Si, and Huali—and behind them were Feng Li and Ji Yaozi, who were supposed to have remained in the Heavenly Master residence.
The moment he saw Feng Li and Ji Yaozi, the Fated One’s pupils shrank. His hand clenched tightly.
Ge Zhu’s eyes bulged, letting out a strained, hoarse “heh-heh” sound.
Ji Yaozi looked at Ge Zhu in disbelief, then turned to the Fated One.
What did he just see?!
The Fated One had actually hurt someone!
Ge Wuchen’s eyes were bloodshot, his mind clouded with rage, and he charged forward with a shout. The Fated One knew that while Ge Zhu’s life might be enough to threaten Jiang Luo, it held no sway over Chi You’s men. He directly threw Ge Zhu toward Ge Wuchen and swiftly lunged at Liao Si and Huali.
Liao Si gave a short cry, and Huali stepped forward to shield him. His twin claws crossed in front of his chest, and the eyes beneath the fox mask gleamed with a feral, beast-like ferocity.
Blood imbued with the power of worship was a natural bane to all things evil. The Fated One squeezed blood from his fingers and flicked it onto Huali’s body. The spots where the blood landed corroded with ease, inflicting heavy injuries. Huali collapsed to the ground in agony.
His fox mask fell away, revealing the lower half of a fox-like face, where a large portion of flesh had already been corroded.
No one stood in his way now. Liao Si backed away in terror, but the Fated One had no interest in him. He walked straight up to Ji Yaozi and Feng Li and continued fleeing down the mountain with them.
Liao Si breathed a sigh of relief and scrambled to Huali’s side, hastily wiping at the blood on Huali’s body with the edge of his clothes.
Ji Yaozi had no desire to flee with the Fated One.
The Fated One was clearly ambushed and now fleeing in panic. And even in such a crisis, he still insisted on taking them along—Ji Yaozi found it more and more suspicious. But at this moment, the Fated One seemed almost crazed—his white hair disheveled, his face and body splattered with blood, no longer the transcendent figure of before, but something far more terrifying.
Ji Yaozi stumbled as he was dragged along, unconsciously taking a few steps forward.
He looked at the Fated One’s back with a complicated expression.
Was the Fated One protecting them now… at least in part because they were his children?
Feng Li also silently followed behind the Fated One.
The Fated One’s voice was cold. “Didn’t I tell you to stay in the Heavenly Master residence?”
“Fated One…” Ji Yaozi’s throat was dry. “You—”
“Fated One, where do you think you’re going?”
A leisurely, amused voice cut him off.
An elegantly dressed malicious ghost in a suit strolled casually toward them. His pale face wore a perfect smile, looking calm and composed, as though he had never been wounded at all.
Liao Si’s eyes lit up like he’d seen his savior. “Master!”
The Fated One’s heart sank lower and lower. At this moment, for the first time, he felt that he might actually die here. His gaze darkened as he stared at Chi You. “You’re not dead.”
The malicious ghost chuckled lightly, half serious, half joking. “I’ve always been lucky.”
The Fated One released Feng Li and Ji Yaozi, subtly positioning himself in front of them, his eyes frosty.
A wolf in front, a tiger behind—if he wanted to run, it would not be easy.
Especially not with Ji Yaozi in tow. That would be even harder.
Just as the Fated One was focusing most of his attention on the malicious ghost, a sudden gust of wind rushed from behind. Ji Yaozi could only watch as a dagger was ruthlessly driven into the Fated One’s heart.
Blood splashed onto Ji Yaozi’s face. He stood frozen. He lifted his hand, wanting to stop it—but then forced it down. He couldn’t explain what he was feeling.
Different paths, different goals—they were never meant to be allies.
And most unfilial of all, though Ji Yaozi felt hollow and pained, he also secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
He had long suspected this day would come—but he never expected that when it did, he would be standing so close.
Jiang Luo didn’t even blink as he pulled out the dagger, then stabbed it in again with brutal force. Most of the flying blood splattered across his face, staining half of it red. Jiang Luo looked like a malicious ghost. He grinned, thick crimson blood trickling from his beautiful chin.
“Fated One, I’ve killed you.”
The Fated One slowly turned his head.
Blood gushed from his mouth, but his gaze toward Jiang Luo grew gentle once more. He said softly, “Jiang Luo, do you know why you came to this world?”
Jiang Luo pushed the dagger deeper, his smile dazzling. “Sorry, not interested.”
“I was the one who brought you into this world,” the Fated One said, as if Jiang Luo hadn’t spoken. “Everyone in this world is bound by fate—even I’m no exception. But in the version of ‘you’ I saw before, I sensed something different. This world’s Jiang Luo has a strange connection to you. Once I summoned you through that link, you would exist outside the fate of this world. That is why you were brought here.”
The Fated One suddenly grabbed Jiang Luo’s left hand.
The red mole on the back of Jiang Luo’s hand was as bright as crushed rose petals.
The Fated One gently brushed his fingers over the mole, his pale eyes locked onto Jiang Luo. “But now, you’ve become a threat to me. So, it’s time for you to return to your own world.”
With a motion of his fingers, he miraculously erased the red mole from Jiang Luo’s hand.
“Leave,” he said.
