"Mhm." Zhao Yebai nodded sullenly. To him, Uncle Yang was just like his mother — family, plain and simple. Now that both he and Little Ya were able to cultivate, they were no longer the helpless children of years past. Of course they wanted to use their own abilities to give Uncle Yang a good life.
Zhao Ya suddenly reached out and grabbed his arm.
When Zhao Yebai turned to look, he saw her eyes sharpen with gravity. She glanced left and right. They were in the middle of nowhere — wild terrain on all sides, thick vegetation pressing in, trees swaying in the wind with a loud, rustling clamor.
"What is it?" Zhao Yebai asked, confused.
"There's the scent of blood!" Zhao Ya's elegant brows drew tight, her face draining of color in an instant. "Be careful!"
Even as the words left her mouth, a gentle force surged from her palm and sent Zhao Yebai flying backward.
A figure burst from the undergrowth without warning. A sword light slashed through the exact spot where Zhao Yebai had been standing moments before. Had Zhao Ya not reacted quickly enough to push him away, he would be a corpse right now.
Zhao Yebai tumbled across the ground several times before scrambling back to his feet. When he looked up, Zhao Ya was already locked in combat with the intruder.
The figure wielded a longsword, its curtain of blade work falling like rain — every strike aimed at killing.
Zhao Ya flourished her silver spear, conjuring blossoms of spear light as she fought back with everything she had. Despite her desperate efforts, she was clearly being pushed to the back foot.
"The Shenyou Realm!" Zhao Yebai blurted in alarm.
He knew exactly how capable Zhao Ya was. She had reached the ninth layer of the Zhenyuan Realm, and after years of training under that senior's tutelage, her natural talent was exceptional — more than enough to fight above her level. Yet this enemy who had appeared out of nowhere was suppressing her. There was no doubt: this was a Shenyou Realm cultivator.
And definitely at least the fourth layer of Shenyou, or they wouldn't have this kind of power.
Zhao Yebai noticed the person seemed to be injured already — a large patch of blood stained their chest and abdomen, not yet dried. The scent of blood Zhao Ya had picked up must have come from this.
"Two little brats still wet behind the ears, and you dare provoke a tiger? Today I'll make sure you never leave!" The figure snarled through gritted teeth while attacking. Zhao Ya was driven back step by step, barely holding on. The enormous gap between their realms was not something even extraordinary talent could bridge. The ninth layer of Zhenyuan was simply not strong enough.
Zhao Yebai watched from the side, desperate with worry. He had only just reached the Qidong Realm — even if he wanted to help, he was powerless to do so. Rushing in would not only fail to assist Little Ya, but would become a burden on her instead.
After hearing the attacker's words, however, Zhao Yebai quickly grasped the situation. "Senior, please stop! We were simply passing through this area by chance. There must be some misunderstanding!"
This person was clearly being hunted by a powerful enemy and had been hiding here to heal. He and Little Ya had happened to wander into the exact wrong spot. If they hadn't noticed anything, it would have been fine — but Zhao Ya's mention of the scent of blood had forced this hidden figure out into the open, leaving them no choice but to fight.
Sure enough, the attacker's brows furrowed at his words, and the offensive slowed slightly.
Zhao Ya, who had been forced into a desperate retreat, had barely managed a breath of relief when the figure suddenly pivoted and charged straight at Zhao Yebai.
This person was badly wounded. Seeing that they couldn't quickly finish off Zhao Ya, they had turned toward the weaker cultivator — clearly intending to take a hostage and seize control. The momentary relaxation of their attack had been nothing but a ploy to lull Zhao Ya into lowering her guard.
That sword's cold gleam filled Zhao Yebai's vision entirely. A powerful spiritual sense locked him in place like shackles, rendering him completely immovable.
"Die!" Zhao Ya cried out sharply. The silver spear in her hand suddenly erupted with dazzling radiance as she poured every ounce of her cultivation into a single thrust.
The power of that one strike far surpassed what the Zhenyuan Realm should have been capable of, sending a chill of terror straight through the attacker's spine.
Forgetting Zhao Yebai entirely, the figure spun around in a panic and thrust out with their sword.
Blood blossomed through the air. Zhao Ya's spear had punched clean through the attacker's body. They staggered backward, one hand clamped over the wound at their side, eyes bulging with fury.
They hadn't expected to actually be wounded by a ninth-layer Zhenyuan brat. That spear's power was clearly beyond what anyone in the Zhenyuan Realm could produce — there had to be an expert guiding this girl from behind the scenes.
Through gritted teeth, the attacker glared at Zhao Ya, stamped a foot, and refused to tarry any longer. Their figure flickered and shot deep into the dense forest, leaving a trail of blood droplets in their wake.
Watching the figure retreat, Zhao Yebai felt a wave of lingering fear wash over him. They had encountered danger during their travels before, but this had been the most perilous encounter yet. In that single moment, he had genuinely felt as though one foot had stepped through the gates of the underworld.
"Brother Xiaobai, are you okay?" Zhao Ya asked with concern.
"I'm fine!" Zhao Yebai shook his head — then his pupils contracted sharply as his gaze locked onto Zhao Ya's left chest. "Little Ya, you..."
Zhao Ya managed a smile. The pristine white fabric over her chest was rapidly soaking through with crimson. Her delicate body swayed, then pitched forward.
Zhao Yebai rushed forward to catch her. In his field of vision, the red stain was spreading with terrifying speed, hammering against his very soul until his mouth went dry and his spirit nearly left his body.
"I... I'm fine," Zhao Ya whispered weakly.
Zhao Yebai was on the verge of tears. Only now did he realize that while Little Ya had managed to wound their attacker, she had been wounded in return — and this kind of injury was anything but minor.
After that single sentence, Zhao Ya's neck went limp, her eyelids falling shut.
"Little Ya!" Zhao Yebai panicked, his whole body trembling uncontrollably. But at least he could sense that her life force was still there — she had simply passed out from the severity of her injuries.
He frantically pulled healing pills from his spatial ring, pried open Zhao Ya's mouth, and fed one to her. At the same time, he circulated his own meager power and channeled it into her body to help dissolve the medicine's effects and stanch the flow of blood from her wound.
This was no place to linger. The attacker had been driven off by Zhao Ya, but who knew whether they might double back for a killing blow.
Zhao Yebai didn't even dare examine the extent of her injuries carefully. He scooped her up in his arms and bolted in the opposite direction.
A stick of incense later, a small wooden cabin came into view.