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Rising with a slow grace, her crimson hanfu whispered against the floor as she swept towards the inner chamber. Zi Su trailed diligently behind, mirroring her mistress's measured pace. Her steps faltered as the demoness paused, picking up a delicate white porcelain hairpin from the table.

A gentle smile touched the demoness's lips as her fingers closed around the cool porcelain. Extending her hand towards Zi Su, she offered the hairpin.

"Take this," she commanded softly.

Zi Su bowed low, her head nearly brushing the floor. "Shifu—" she began, her voice barely a whisper.

"—Take it," the demoness interrupted, her voice firm but laced with a hint of amusement. "Have you forgotten who your master is?"

Zi Su's brow furrowed, her fingers twisting together in agitation. "Grand Master entrusted it to you," she insisted, shaking her head vehemently. "I cannot accept such a treasure."

The demoness sighed, a weary sound. Folding her arms, she tapped Zi Su's shoulder with a firm nod. "You have served me faithfully for many years. If anyone is to inherit the mantle of sect leader, it should be you."

A flicker of a smile played on Zi Su's lips as she met her master's gaze. "I… I do not dare expect such an honor. My only wish is to continue serving you."

Turning, the demoness carefully placed the hairpin within a brocade case, then extended it towards Zi Su once more, her smile unwavering. "Keep it. It is an order."

A sudden seriousness clouded her features, the reason for her insistence a mystery even to herself. "Shifu," Zi Su ventured cautiously, "is this because of Bai Ying? She poses no real threat to us."

The demoness did not reply at first. Instead, she moved to a vanity and settled herself before a polished bronze mirror. Her reflection stared back, unreadable. Silence stretched between them for what felt like an eternity.

"Life follows its own course," the demoness finally spoke, her voice low. "It is better to be cautious. Of all my disciples, you are the one I trust most. Though these so-called 'righteous' sects preach peace, their true intentions are as clear as the mountain stream. They seek to eradicate us, not for the good of the realm, but for their own gain."

Zi Su nodded slowly, picking up a brown sandalwood comb from the vanity. With practiced ease, she began to comb her master's long, black hair, drawing it back from her face in one smooth motion. Minutes ticked by as Bai Ling remained lost in contemplation, her gaze fixed on the woman in the mirror.

"Yet, how long can we remain hidden here in the Chang Liu mountains?" Zi Su finally broke the silence, her voice laced with concern. "This harsh environment is ill-suited for our disciples. It won't be long before the mountain spring runs dry. They are the ones who should be in hiding, not us."

A shiver ran down Bai Ling's spine as she touched her neck, the memory of betrayal still fresh. Turning away from the mirror, she walked towards the window, its frame offering a glimpse of the desolate mountain landscape.

"Their cruelty knows no bounds," she whispered, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. "After massacring all the disciples of Yihua Palace, they dared to announce their demise to the world, while keeping Elder Jing Ke captive – all for the wretched Guo Se sword."

 A jolt of lightning struck across Bai Ling's mind, illuminating a previously unseen connection. Swinging around, she fixed Zi Su with a gaze that demanded answers.

"Send a few disciples," she commanded, her voice laced with a cryptic urgency. "Uncover every secret concerning the lead disciple under Elder Yu."

Zi Su's brow furrowed in thought. "Lu Zhao Yun?" she queried, confirming her mistress's deduction.

Bai Ling nodded curtly, her crimson robes whispering against the floorboards as she paced. "He presents a more intricate puzzle than first appears. He wields the very Guo Se sword – a relic thought lost. For him to ascend to the ninth level of cultivation with such unnatural speed… there must be a connection to Jing Ke."

A gasp escaped Zi Su's lips, a whisper in the vast silence that hung heavy in the air. With a silent bow, she turned to depart, only to be halted by Bai Ling's parting words.

"And deliver those sweet cakes as well," she added, a hint of a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Under the usual alias, of course – A'Ling. This knowledge must remain within our inner circle."

Across the mountains, Bai Ying tossed and turned in a feverish sleep. Her brow furrowed, her head rolling from side to side on the unfamiliar pillow. Beads of sweat gathered on her forehead as she murmured incoherently, trapped in the throes of a cryptic nightmare.

A jolt ripped through her, flinging her upright with a gasp. Disoriented, she scanned the unfamiliar surroundings. Disciples clad in strange uniforms patrolled the halls, their voices hushed and urgent. Fear prickled at her skin.

Heaving herself out of bed, she stumbled towards the door, throwing it open with a bang. Her eyes darted around, searching for a familiar face, a place of solace. The whispers intensified, laced with a mixture of curiosity and unease.

Approaching a pair of disciples, she stammered out the question that burned in her mind.

"Excuse me," her voice barely above a whisper. "Where… where am I?"

One of the disciples turned, his eyebrows furrowing in surprise. "Where are you? Who are you?" His initial curiosity morphed into nervous laughter as he saw the distraught woman before him.

He was about to continue when she lunged forward, snatching his sword in a swift, practiced motion. The blade gleamed coldly at his throat, silencing his laughter and sending a tremor of fear through him.

"Careful with that!" he choked out, his voice strained. "We're in Luoxia Sect!"

The tension dissipated slightly as she relaxed her grip, allowing him to step back a trembling pace. The second disciple, his fear subsiding, recognized her with a gasp.

"What's the meaning of this?!" he sputtered. "Who brought her here anyways?"

But as he peered at her more closely, a sense of dawning realization spread across his face. 

A hollow echo swallowed Bai Ying's question. "Where's my shifu?" she rasped, her voice laced with a cryptic urgency. She cast a sidelong glance at Zi Su, a silent plea for answers.

The other disciple, shoulders hunched and voice barely a whisper, revealed the unsettling truth. "Senior Zhao is by the Yanhua Cave… with your sister."

"Rong'Er?" Bai Ying breathed, disbelief lacing her tone.

A curt nod was the only response she received. A sigh escaped her lips, a sound heavy with a tangled mix of worry and begrudging admiration.

"The pair of you," the other disciple muttered, shaking his head in a gesture that could have been amusement or exasperation. "Always throwing yourselves at danger for Senior Zhao. Your sister… willingly faced a ferocious phoenix to earn his tutelage. One wonders if she even survived it."

Bai Ying's eyes narrowed. The weight of this revelation left her mind reeling, the disciples' awe washing over her like a cold wave.

"Take me there," she demanded, her voice a mere tremor.

With a resigned sigh, the disciples turned and began the descent down the mountain.

The air hung heavy with an unsettling quiet as Jing Yi stirred, her hand reaching out blindly. My vision swam, the world a distorted kaleidoscope. Through the haze, I saw him – Zhao Yun, his face etched with a worry I hadn't seen before. His turquoise eyes, usually vibrant, were clouded with something akin to concern.

A group of disciples, drawn by the silence, crept into the cave. Their hushed whispers trailed off as they came upon the scene within – just myself and Zhao Yun. They scanned the cavern, confusion etched on their faces.

"Did she… did she defeat it?" one of them ventured, a question echoing the thoughts of the others.

"How is that possible? She's just a first-level cultivator!" another gasped, disbelief coloring his voice.

One of the disciples stepped forward, his gaze lingering on Zhao Yun who cradled me protectively. "Senior Zhao? Is…" he hesitated, the question hanging heavy in the air.

Zhao Yun's head snapped up, his gaze cold and furious as it landed on the disciple. The younger man flinched, his bravado replaced by a nervous retreat. The other disciples stood frozen, unsure of how to react.

A sudden movement caught their attention. A figure emerged from the shadows at the cave entrance, silhouetted against the fading light. Elder Yu, his face a mask of stoicism, walked purposefully into the cave, his eyes scanning the scene with a practiced efficiency.

A flicker of a smile, barely there and quickly suppressed, played on my lips as I lifted a weak hand, my fingers brushing against Zhao Yun's cheek. 

Just as my fingers brushed against Zhao Yun's cheek, a searing pain erupted in my chest, forcing my eyes shut. My body felt like a furnace on the verge of exploding. Darkness engulfed my vision, but then a chilling sensation swept through me, momentarily pulling me back from the brink.

A stern voice echoed in the cave. "Leave! Everyone back at least five meters! No one enters!"

The disciples, startled by Elder Yu's sharp command, bowed in unison and scurried out, leaving only the three of us in the cavern's eerie silence.

"Shifu—" Zhao Yun began, concern etched on his face.

"I know," Elder Yu interrupted, his voice firm. "Apply the Cold Breath Technique on her. I'll keep the lights burning."

Zhao Yun nodded curtly and gently lowered me to the cold stone floor. He sat opposite me, his eyes closed in concentration. Elder Yu, with a flick of his wrist, conjured flames that ignited several candles strategically placed around the cave, casting flickering shadows on the cavern walls. He stopped by the last candle, his imposing figure shrouded in flickering light, a silent guardian.

Lifting his hands, Zhao Yun focused his energy. With each hit of the Cold Breath Technique upon my back, I felt a jolt as my feverish blood clashed with the incoming chill. It was a bizarre sensation, warmth battling the invading cold, leaving my body in a state of uncomfortable flux.

For an hour, Zhao Yun continued relentlessly, the opposing energies gradually reaching a precarious equilibrium. Relief seeped into my body as the tension subsided.

Finally, exhaustion claimed me. My head lolled forward onto my chest as I breathed deeply, trying to regain my bearings.

The cave plunged into darkness the moment I opened my eyes. Elder Yu stood beside me and Zhao Yun, his eyes squeezed shut as he channeled his own energy.

"Zhao Yun," I croaked, my voice hoarse.

"I believe he's your shifu now," Elder Yu replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

My lips parted to form a reply, but a simple nod was all I could manage. I couldn't tear my gaze away from Zhao Yun as he slowly opened his eyes, their turquoise depths reflecting a weariness that mirrored my own.

"The poison within you reacted violently due to your weakened state," Elder Yu explained, his voice low. "Since Duke Wei entrusted you to us, your cultivation falls to Zhao Yun. As long as you focus on aligning your essence with ours, the poison will remain dormant while we seek a cure."

He sighed, sliding a hand over his chest before turning and exiting the cave with a powerful burst of wind. A'Ying, her face etched with worry, appeared at the entrance, rushing down the mountain path.

The remaining disciples, who had discreetly lingered at a distance, bowed their heads in Elder Yu's wake and quickly dispersed.

A smile tugged at my lips as I sat beside Zhao Yun, resting my hands on my palms in an attempt to restore my own energy. His own hands landed in his lap after a few minutes of meditation. He opened his eyes, a flicker of concern quickly masked by his usual stoicism.

"So, how was I?" I asked, blinking at him repeatedly.

He remained silent, his head bowed. My playful mood faltered slightly. Was he still upset with me for pushing myself?

Before he could answer, he rose abruptly and started walking towards the cave exit. A pout formed on my lips, and I scrambled to my feet, chasing after him.

"Shifu!" A'Ying's voice echoed behind us. She skidded to a halt a few meters away, her eyes widening slightly as they landed on me clinging to Zhao Yun's arm. A fleeting emotion, a flicker of something akin, crossed her features before she quickly schooled them into a cheerful smile.

I squeezed Zhao Yun's hand, relishing the warmth seeping through his robes. A subtle victory, a silent claim I couldn't quite define.

"You need to rest from yesterday's encounter. Why did you exert yourself so?"

A'Ying, her eyes gleaming with concern, retorted, "I was worried."

He shook his head gently. "There's no need. Since both of you are injured, we'll postpone training until later. From now on," he turned to A'Ying, his voice firm, "she's your senior."

A'Ying met my gaze, offering a confident nod and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. A flicker of something akin to jealousy washed over Jing Yi's face, a subtle tightening of her jaw betraying her practiced smile.

"But—" A'Ying began to protest.

"—Senior," Zhan Ke interrupted, his voice urgent, "Master needs your presence in Jiuyun Hall immediately. Apparently, Song has fallen under Wei's control!"

A sharp glare shot towards Zhan Ke before Zhao Yun offered a curt nod and turned to leave. I made to follow, but A'Ying shot out a hand, her expression stormy.

"Where do you think you're going?" she spat, a hint of possessiveness lacing her voice.

A voice boomed through the dust-choked air, shattering the fragile peace. "Crown Prince!" Flames erupted across the street, licking hungrily at the wooden houses and sending plumes of black smoke into the sky. Heart-wrenching screams pierced the air as panicked townspeople fled the inferno, tears streaming down their faces.

The once bustling street lay ravaged. Some figures limped away, their bodies wracked with pain and their clothes hanging in tatters. Others, less fortunate, lay motionless amidst the smoldering debris, their forms charred beyond recognition.

A young girl's cry, raw with grief, rose above the cacophony. "Mom!" she shrieked, clinging desperately to the lifeless body of a young woman.

The Crown Prince, partially obscured by a cloud of ash and debris, yanked a burning brick from his injured arm, biting back a yelp of pain. He scanned the scene, his eyes widening in horror as they landed on the carnage surrounding him.

Several bodies lay strewn about, their faces contorted in silent screams. His gaze fell upon the young girl, her sobs echoing through the devastated streets.

Struggling to his feet, he winced as each step sent a jolt of pain through his body.

"Crown Prince! Thank God you're alive!" A voice called out – his trusted aide, his face etched with worry and burns.

The Crown Prince ignored him, his focus solely on the distraught child. The smoke stung his eyes, blurring his vision as he stumbled towards her.

Reaching the girl's side, he knelt beside her, his voice hoarse. "Wake up! It's alright. I'm here."

But the little girl remained clinging to her mother, her tiny body wracked with sobs. He gently pried her loose, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-streaked face and soot-covered clothes.

"Where's the governor?!" he demanded, his voice tight with urgency.

The aide pointed towards a pile of charred bodies, his voice choked with emotion. The Crown Prince scrambled towards the grotesque heap, searching for any sign of familiarity. His trembling fingers brushed aside the debris, revealing the governor's mangled form.

Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision once more.

"We need to leave now," his aide urged. "There might be more explosives!"

"No!" The Crown Prince roared, frustration and grief fueling his outburst. "Who did this?! Who set these fires?!"

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Who unleashed the bomb?

Was it to kill the Crown Prince or silence the Governor?

Why did A'Ying stop Rong'Er?

Why does the Demoness send her birthday cakes every year?

Is Zhao Yun connected to Jing Ke?