Chapter 84: A History of the Mo Tribe (Part Two)

Gu Yi dared to wager that if anyone claimed he didn’t like Shu Yu, they were surely lying.

Her face, with skin pure white and shimmering like ivory, was crowned by long, dark lashes tightly veiling a pair of autumnal eyes that trembled softly like water. Her brows were delicate, sweeping lightly like distant mountains, and her lips were a touch of crimson, as if red snow had settled there.

Gu Yi had indeed seen beautiful people before, but faces could never be flawless—like Shu Le, whose nose lacked the regal bridge to make it striking. Most relied on their bearing to outshine their appearance.

But when one saw Shu Yu, her beauty eclipsed even the aura she projected. One might even think such flawless beauty lacked any distinguishing trait, as though the Creator meant for human faces to be sculpted just so, every feature perfectly placed.

Even Shu Le had exclaimed, “So beautiful,” her astonished gaze as if meeting a new person entirely—perhaps Shu Yu had not always looked like this.

...So this was the famed Mo clan so many had spoken of.

Shu Yu clutched her stomach, staggering to her feet with difficulty. Her condition was poor. The way Gu Yi sized her up only made her more uncomfortable; she glared fiercely and said, “At the brink of life and death, you still look at me like that. Truly, a man’s nature is hard to change.”

On the lake’s surface, a shadow slowly rose—a figure with disheveled hair. His spiritual energy was chaotic, thick and roiling like ink, crawling forward beneath his feet, lifting his body.

“Mo clan, Mo clan…”

Gu Yi glanced at Shu Le. “Shall we leave?”

“What do you think?” Shu Le was indecisive.

She probably couldn’t bring herself to kill Shu Yu, let alone watch another woman be violated by such a grotesque thing.

Yet it was not as simple as rescuing her—the opponent was clearly formidable.

“If you ask me…” Gu Yi spoke slowly, “Honestly, Miss Shu. I’d rather slip away. Beautiful women are everywhere. We obviously can’t beat that guy.”

Shu Le: “...”

She hesitated.

Gu Yi had no intention of pretending, “Let’s go, let’s go—if you save her, she’ll only oppose us in the future.”

Shu Le glanced at Shu Yu and offered no further opinion. Now was not the time to display magnanimity; though her conscience twinged, she still listened to Gu Yi.

Nearby, Shu Yu heard their words without a change in expression. She cared little, standing against the wind, facing death as life.

Yet the shadow on the lake spoke, “Boy, you know nothing of the Mo clan’s worth. Are you just going to leave?”

“How good is the Mo clan, really?” Gu Yi turned to ask Shu Le.

Shu Le’s cheeks flushed red; she couldn’t answer.

“Ha ha ha, this child is much like me,” the voice suddenly grew fierce. “But none of you will escape. Once you’ve seen me, you can’t walk away.”

“He won’t let you go,” Shu Yu said lightly.

She remembered her mother’s words: the Mo clan’s feelings were always intense—perhaps ‘stubborn’ fit them too.

Though the enemy was strong, she dragged her sword and her wounded body, leaving scars in her wake, advancing slowly but never retreating.

The lake’s surface, stirred by spiritual energy, rippled outward in waves. The figure clad in black, even his right eye rimmed in darkness, wore a greedy, mad expression. He was crazed enough to want Shu Yu to break through to the He Dao realm.

He wasn’t in a hurry to kill.

“Heh heh heh, you remind me of Gu Baici—you’re just as delicious.”

Shu Yu tore a strip of cloth and veiled her face anew, as if being seen again would be an insult.

“I know who you are. That black spiritual mist—it’s the ink fangs from the Pool of Night. There were rumors you gained entry to the Deng Islands, yet you remain on the mainland, causing trouble and conspiring with the two peaks.”

“Ha ha ha!” Ink Fang laughed, revealing black teeth. “Gu Baici brought me to this state—how could I leave? Little girl, I’ll taste the Mo clan’s flavor at last.”

Shu Yu raised her sword, spiritual energy swirling around her, accompanied by spinning pink roses, their petals sharp as blades.

“Who is Gu Baici?”

“The Rain Palace Mistress,” Shu Le reminded.

“This Ink Fang doesn’t seem like a normal person,” Gu Yi reconsidered his earlier plan.

Shu Le understood as well, “If we stand by, we’ll be killed too.”

Shu Yu’s rose sword aura lifted her upwards, then slashed at Ink Fang; the sword technique was reminiscent of Gu Yi’s Sunflower Sword, though clearly less powerful.

But the sword’s fierce aura was overwhelming, carrying the owner’s mood. Shu Yu was displeased by the mocking, and though wounded, attacked Ink Fang savagely.

Ink Fang merely raised a finger, gathering black spiritual mist madly—like wolves and tigers, surging in waves to counterattack, making Shu Yu’s roses tremble.

Darkness descended like night.

Shu Yu threw her head back, tossing her sword, pinching her fingers. A crackling sound came from her wrist as a rose spun wildly, expanding as spiritual energy poured in, until at last it collided with Ink Fang’s fingertip.

Boom!

“She’s gone,” Shu Le whispered.

She was like a close-combat swordswoman, swift and ruthless, her sword flashing with spiritual energy, then a larger blade appeared.

Her spiritual energy was limited, so she poured all she had into this strongest strike.

Gu Yi, knowing his cultivation was lower, relied on the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. He closed his eyes, opened his hands, palms upward, and at a certain moment, raised his arms!

Gurgle! Gurgle! Gurgle!

The tranquil lake seemed to boil, but it wasn’t from heat—it was the spiritual energy beneath surging upward.

Shu Yu’s heart stirred at the sight, her gaze freezing on the moment when all the world’s spiritual energy soared.

Words flashed through her mind: Little Garden Mountain Immortal, legendary talents, Gu Yi...

Gu Yi rarely mobilized such vast spiritual energy; Shu Le had never seen it.

And fortunately, spring flowers bloomed all over the hills. Gu Yi had already raised his sword, ready to use the Flower-as-Dragon technique.

“Three little brats, such a commotion. But your cultivation is so weak—it’s useless,” Ink Fang laughed.

Then, with a flick of his brow, his figure vanished. Shu Le’s powerful strike merely stirred waves on the lake.

Ink Fang appeared by Shu Yu’s side; he knew where to focus. He swung forcefully, and Shu Yu, unable to react, was flung away with a bang.

She couldn’t help but spit blood mid-air.

Ink Fang looked at Gu Yi.

“I don’t know how you gathered all the spiritual energy here, nor how powerful the sword energy you’ve condensed is, but can you cut me? I’m fast; your power is only good for tilling the soil here.”

“Enough nonsense!”

Shu Le pursued across the lake, stabbing from the side. Ink Fang, calm, moved back, gathering energy in his right palm, repelling Shu Le—the force even swept up a curtain of water.

“…Cut him.”

Gu Yi suddenly heard a voice from behind. He turned—it was Shu Yu.

Blood stained both corners of her mouth. She lay half-propped on the ground, head raised with all her strength, whispering, “…Cut him. Quickly, cut him…”

Her voice grew weaker.

Gu Yi’s eyes suddenly brightened.

She cultivated Rose Vines—they could sprout tendrils!

She had used this very move against him!