C19 The Dust Had Settled

Aying, who had been fixated on Lin Zhengyang, was taken aback by the statement and quickly shifted her focus.

She whirled to lock eyes with Yang Xiu. One radiated an aura of chilling Ghost Qi, the other bristled with hostility and a palpable desire to kill. It seemed Aying had met her match, and she effortlessly bypassed Lin Zhengyang.

Lin Zhengyang watched the pair, his surprise mounting. If they both lost control, there would be no hope left.

There was no one to rein in their madness. Yang Xiu was resolute in his pursuit of victory over Aying, who in turn found a fascinating and worthy adversary, her combativeness peaking.

Should they both strike, the fallout would shatter all of Mao Mountain's properties.

Without a word, Aying and Yang Xiu communicated through glances, understanding each other perfectly. They soared into the sky as if by agreement, sensing that the area was too confined for their battle.

Mao Mountain, rife with Ghost Qi, provided Aying with an easy source of replenishment. Yang Xiu, however, was at a disadvantage. More precisely, it was Jiao Mujiao inhabiting Yang Xiu's body, and there was a limit to how much it could withstand.

By any measure, Yang Xiu seemed to be at a disadvantage, yet for the moment, they appeared evenly matched.

As if by prior arrangement, they launched their attacks simultaneously, their figures erupting in brilliant light as they engaged in fierce combat, each blow met with equal force.

Lin Zhengyang was fully committed to shielding his fellow sect members from harm. The elders, who had been critical of him, now felt a sense of shame. They had to admit, they couldn't have matched his efforts.

With Lin Yi gone, the sect's immediate troubles had been lifted, but now they faced an even greater calamity.

The other elders, breathing heavily, rallied within moments to Lin Zhengyang's side, united against all adversities as if the past troubles had never occurred.

In the midst of Yang Xiu and Aying's intense battle, the pearl that had been buried with Yang Xiu's corpse emerged from the earth.

The two warriors exchanged a blow, each unable to gain the upper hand, yet neither willing to relent. They were locked in a deadlock, the energy between their palms growing increasingly fearsome.

Just as they were on the brink of losing control, the pearl surged forward. In that instant, Yang Xiu and Aying lost consciousness. They were gently carried by an unseen force and floated down to the ground unharmed. The pearl, however, vanished without a trace. At that moment, a subtle white light swirled around Yang Xiu's forehead, resembling a glowing orb.

But the light flickered only briefly before it fully integrated into his body.

Yang Xiu fared relatively well, thanks to his strong foundation, so his injuries weren't severe. Aying, on the other hand, was not as fortunate. Her complexion was ghostly pale, and her breaths were faint, as if she might slip away at any moment.

Lin Zhengyang hurried over to assess their condition. Both were slowly stabilizing, though Aying's energy remained fragile.

"Does anyone still covet the position of sect master? With things as they are, there's no point in secrecy. If you're willing to heed my advice, then let's put an end to these futile endeavors."

With a stern look, Lin Zhengyang picked up Aying. Yang Xiu, meanwhile, had come to on his own, without needing assistance.

"Ah! What have you done to me? Why am I in so much pain?"

Yang Xiu's face contorted with agony as his body convulsed.

"Someone take Elder Lin back and tend to him carefully. There must be no errors," Lin Zhengyang commanded with authority.

The disciples quickly complied, and the elders, having narrowly escaped disaster, were noticeably subdued.

Days later, Lin Zhengyang visited Yang Xiu's dwelling with Aying in tow.

"My young friend, how have you been feeling these past few days? I hope you're improving. If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. Whatever I have is at your disposal for your recovery," Lin Zhengyang said, his concern for Yang Xiu genuine and evident.

Yang Xiu, for his part, was preoccupied with nothing but his own body, quietly exploring the changes within. After the fierce battle that had even drawn out Jiao Mujiao, he found himself without a scratch and sensed that his Bloodline Power might have been awakened. Absorbed in his research, Yang Xiu kept to himself.

What took Yang Xiu by surprise the most was his memory of Aying. The bond they shared made his heart quiver with an emotion akin to familial ties.

Lin Zhengyang, who had been waiting patiently outside the door, shook his head and said, "Aying, it appears that our young friend has been gravely injured. We should leave for now to avoid disturbing his recovery. Remember, do not interrupt his healing process."

Aying, though only eleven or twelve, had spent several years in the sect and understood the gravity of the situation. Worry etched her face, yet she nodded in compliance.

"Grandfather, have I become that again? Will they kill me?" Aying's voice shook as she spoke, her face a mask of sorrow.

"Grandfather, have I killed many people? Am I burdened with heavy sins?" Tears streamed down Aying's cheeks. Her innate goodness made the thought of her hands stained with the blood of innocents unbearable.

Lin Zhengyang shook his head. "Aying, none of these things are your fault. Truly, they aren't. Please, don't dwell on them." His smile was gentle, but his eyes betrayed a deep sadness.

Aying nodded. This had happened before, but Lin Zhengyang was the only one who believed she wasn't to blame. Others looked at her as if she were a plague to be avoided.

From then on, Aying's self-esteem plummeted. She became meek in all her actions, a change that did not escape Lin Zhengyang's notice. However, this might not be entirely negative for Aying; it could even be beneficial in some ways.

After spending over half a month secluded in his room, Yang Xiu finally emerged, exclaiming, "Ah! The air is so fresh!"

He stretched, his robust body crackling with the movement.

On the stone table outside, a neatly arranged teapot and tray awaited him. Yang Xiu reached for the teapot, feeling the warmth seep into his palm.

Clearly, this was Aying's doing; no one else would care for him so thoughtfully.

However, amidst this idyllic scene, a sinister threat lurked.

Yang Xiu declared, "Aying, today is your last day of leisure. Starting tomorrow, I will begin teaching you the Ghost Controlling Arts. Make the most of today—play and rest to your heart's content."

Upon catching sight of Yang Xiu, Aying's face lit up with a radiant smile, the first of its kind in many days.

"Understood, brother. Were you hurt before? How are you feeling now?" Concern etched Aying's features, the previous radiance of her smile giving way to an expression fraught with anxiety.