nycdaug Chapter 289 Xuannv 154
Chapter 289 Xuannv 154
Kunlun Ruins Incident
"Look, this is outrageous!" Donghua leaned against the jade railing, his wide sleeves brushing against the mottled moss, his voice trailing off like a storyteller striking the starting note.
Zheyan slammed his teacup down on the stone table, spilling half of the amber tea. "So you all came to Kunlun Ruins today just to mock me, huh?" He glanced at the three people who were forming a semi-circle—Yaoguang was leaning against his sword case, twirling the wine gourd at his waist; Moyuan stood with his hands behind his back under the cloud pine; and Donghua was slowly adjusting his cuffs, looking just like a cat that had just stolen a fish.
Yao Guang tilted her head back and gulped down a mouthful of wine, making a satisfying "glug" sound in her throat. Wine stains slid down her jawline and into her clothes. "We're here to save your bird life." She shook the empty gourd and slammed it on the stone table, startling two egrets from the eaves.
Bloodstained Truth
The wind from Kunlun Ruins, carrying the scent of cedar, swept across the eaves, causing Zheyan's moon-white robe to flutter loudly. As his wide sleeves swept across the stone table, a few undried tea stains, like withered plum petals, were swirled and shattered on the mottled jade bricks by the strong wind. He staggered half a step, grabbing the corner of the table for support, his fingertips digging deeply into the cold stone's texture. The shock and anger surging in his eyes almost burned through him: Save me? What do you mean?
Before he could finish speaking, the crimson tail feather hanging from Yao Guang's waist suddenly caught his eye. That vibrant, almost eerie red shimmered like mother-of-pearl in the sunlight, yet the eerie blue halo flowing at the tip of the feather was clearly the natal spirit feather plucked from the deepest part of his tailbone! Zhe Yan's breath caught in his throat, a metallic taste rising in his throat, and even the old wound on the back of his neck began to throb—the scene of him being forced to destroy half of his wings to seal the Demon Lord three hundred years ago now overlapped with the tail feather before him.
"Don't look at me." Donghua suddenly chuckled, his white hair beneath his silver crown ruffled by the mountain breeze, brushing past the faint cinnabar mark between his brows. "Last night, someone infiltrated the forbidden area of Qingqiu and took what should have been eternally sealed in the tree hollow..." Before he could finish speaking, Yaoguang had already unleashed a chilling sword aura. Its crimson tail feathers, accompanied by a sharp whistling sound, pierced the air like a poisoned dagger, embedding itself deeply into the bluestone at Zheyan's feet.
The dark red scabs that had formed at the base of the feathers fell off in a rustling sound, spreading fine spiderweb patterns on the stone surface. Zheyan stared at the dried bloodstains and suddenly recalled the scene when they went to the battlefield together. At that time, he personally poured peach blossom wine for his friends and even smiled, wishing everyone victory in battle, but little did he know that people's hearts could change so easily.
Burning Heart
Before the crisp sound of Yao Guang's boots crushing the tail feathers had even faded, Zhe Yan suddenly staggered and knelt on one knee. The remaining divine consciousness on his natal spirit feather surged into his spiritual platform like a tidal wave, causing thousands of bloody lights to explode before his eyes. In the scene, Bai Zhi's black python-patterned robe fluttered in the wind, but the Zhuxian Sword in his hand was not swung at the so-called demons, but instead pierced straight into the throat of the Nine-Tailed Purple Fox Elder; Ning Chang, draped in a blood-stained wedding dress, huddled under a withered tree, the Eastern pearl hanging from her phoenix crown rolling to the ground, reflecting the gradually fading life in her pupils.
So, the demon-slaying and righteous defense was just a pretense... Zheyan's voice seemed to be squeezed out from the depths of his throat, his knuckles clenched until they turned white, leaving five bloody scratches on the bluestone slab. The carefully woven past collapsed before his eyes—he finally saw clearly why the demon-locking chain on Zitong's ankle was engraved with Bai family runes.
The gilded wine trickled down his trembling fingertips, reflecting the swaying shadows of the distant peach grove. Those peach trees he had planted with his own hands, the hangover soup he had brewed for Bai Zhen and Bai Qian over the years, the ancient legends he had told under the moonlight—all now transformed into sharp icicles, piercing the softest part of his heart. He suddenly remembered that every time Bai Qian got into trouble, she would come to him, always asking him to discipline a fox.
Hahahaha... The broken laughter startled the sparrows perched under the eaves. Zheyan grabbed the tail feathers stained with wine, letting the feathers cut his palm. I, Zheyan, pride myself on being insightful, yet I raise a bunch of birds that eat my flesh and blood, and still aren't fat enough... His words stopped abruptly. He bit his tongue hard, and the sweet and bloody blood flowed down the corner of his mouth, blooming into an eerie flower on his moon-white robe.