Chapter 51: Foreshadowing

“Come with me for a moment!” Yan Chu invited Xia Yu with a casual flair.

This Yan Chu had once invited her to dinner, only to be deftly refused by Xia Yu’s usual methods. As for Yan Chu himself, he was a handsome, wealthy, and influential young man from a prominent family.

Seeing his beaming face now, Xia Yu couldn’t fathom what he had to be so pleased about.

The two walked straight on until they reached the back mountain of QH, a secluded and lushly green place.

“Why did you call me out here?” Xia Yu asked directly, unwilling to waste any more time with him.

Clearly, the young heir was well-prepared for Xia Yu’s bluntness. He smiled nonchalantly. “Miss Xia, you don’t know my name yet, do you? I am—”

“No need. I have no intention of finding out,” Xia Yu cut him off coldly. She could easily guess what he was about to say, even with just a bit of imagination. It would no doubt be a string of confessions culminating in, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“My name is Yan Chu,” he said, undeterred. “I brought you here today because I want you to be my girlfriend. If you agree, whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

His face was wreathed in a flattering smile, but inwardly he was already irritated with Xia Yu.

“And if I say I want the whole world?”

Yan Chu’s face froze, his smile stiffening. “So you mean to refuse me?” His voice dropped low, tinged with threat.

“Of course.” Xia Yu met his gaze steadily. “I’ve already found the one I love. There’s no point wasting your time.”

“Do you know why I brought you to such an isolated place?” Yan Chu’s expression twisted, trying to appear menacing.

“If I refuse, you plan to use force?”

“Smart girl!” Yan Chu said smugly.

“Then call out your accomplice already. It must be uncomfortable hiding in the bushes. Two against one—are you both planning to take turns with me?” Xia Yu’s voice was icy.

“Well, what can I say? My friend and I are close. Don’t feel too wronged—you’re in for a wild ride, both of us are vigorous—” Yan Chu burst out in wanton laughter, oblivious to the murderous red glint that flashed in Xia Yu’s eyes, only to be suppressed by a golden light, then replaced by a deep, cold black.

There was a rustling in the grass, and a strangely dressed man emerged.

“Brother, over here!” Yan Chu called out.

“Kongtong Sect?” Xia Yu asked, though her tone was certain. The disciple looked surprised but was soon captivated by Xia Yu’s beauty, his desire burning away all reason. Together with Yan Chu, he lunged at her.

A flash of red light erupted, a shockwave radiating in all directions. A voice rang out, “Demon-Slaying Sword, Blood of the Fallen Sun, Starfield Shift!” Then all was calm again.

Xia Yu left behind an unconscious man on the ground and another clinging to him, trembling all over.

The Kongtong Sect disciple had lost consciousness—Xia Yu had severed all his meridians, leaving him a cripple, passed out from the pain. As for Yan Chu, after this ordeal, a permanent shadow would likely haunt his heart, one from which he might never recover.

If anyone dared to be ruthless with Xia Yu, she would always be more ruthless in return.

A small figure approached, anxious and worried, her face full of emotion. In the blink of an eye, she was at Xia Yu’s side. “Sister, are you alright? Did he do anything to you?”

Xia Yu looked at Ling Fei, whose cheeks were flushed from running, and smiled. “What could possibly happen to me?”

“But I saw him call you out here! Yan Chu isn’t a good person. He may seem kind, polite, and gentle, but I know him—he’s a complete hypocrite!” Just earlier, Ling Fei had gone to the classroom to find Xia Yu, only to hear that Yan Chu had taken her to the back mountain. Knowing Yan Chu’s true nature, Ling Fei had immediately worried for Xia Yu’s safety. Now, seeing her unharmed, Ling Fei was relieved, though she still couldn’t help but vent about Yan Chu.

It seemed Yan Chu’s reputation truly was abysmal. Xia Yu listened to Ling Fei’s earnest warnings and thought to herself that she’d been right to teach Yan Chu a lesson—if someone as gentle and tolerant as Ling Fei could be this wary, then he must be truly vile.

“Alright, I get it,” Xia Yu replied, her tone helpless. She knew that if she didn’t interrupt, Ling Fei would never stop lecturing her.

Seeing Xia Yu’s reluctance to listen further, Ling Fei didn’t insist—after all, Xia Yu was only her honorary older sister.

“Let’s head back,” Ling Fei said softly, then realized she hadn’t seen Yan Chu anywhere. “Where is he?”

“Let him rest here a while longer,” Xia Yu replied with a sly glint in her eyes. Ling Fei sensed something else there but didn’t press. If one were to question everything, life would be exhausting. After all, everyone has their own secrets.

“Let’s not dwell on these unpleasant things. Come on!” Xia Yu, already ahead, turned back to Ling Fei, her eyes sweeping over a nearby thicket. It was dense and not too tall—just the right size for someone to hide in, she mused.

“Oh!” Ling Fei realized she’d zoned out and hurried to catch up. Together, they left the troubling mountain behind.

A figure appeared where they had just been, not tall but rather small in stature. “Did you notice?” The figure murmured, a graceful smile curling at the lips—it was Leng Bingyan. “As expected of Sister Yu, she hasn’t changed one bit.”

The figure slowly faded away, as if it had never been there, and the area returned to silence.

Moments later, the figure reappeared, glancing at the two collapsed men. With a flash in his eyes, the Samsara Eye awakened, and the inner thoughts of Yan Chu and the Kongtong disciple were laid bare before Bingyan—hatred, fear, and countless tangled emotions. Bingyan shook his head and, with a flick of his finger, sent a white beam of light into their foreheads.

Dust returns to dust, earth returns to earth; grudges and enmities are extinguished with life’s end.

Bingyan’s intent had been to spare them further pain, not realizing this act would later trouble Xia Yu. But such things were beyond Bingyan’s control.

Having finished, Bingyan felt no burden. Ending two lives was no small matter, but to one who had transcended the mundane, it weighed little—especially since death, for these two, might be kinder than life. One, once a master of martial arts, was now crippled in an instant—a blow unbearable for any who lived by the sword. The other was left with an indelible psychological scar.