Chapter 233

Chapter 233: Big Madman and Little Madman

Being swallowed was bad.

Being swallowed with Wu Yan was worse.

Wu Yan looked as furious as a man could be while trapped in a monster’s gut. “Unlucky,” he hissed. “I was about to finish you, and Su Su’s zither crushed both of us. That woman really is insane.”

Wang Jie kept his distance, palms braced against the slick walls. “You’re still thinking about killing me? We’re inside a polar earthworm.”

Wu Yan’s mouth curled. “Doesn’t matter. I kill you, then I tear open its belly and walk out.”

Given Wu Yan’s level, it wasn’t an empty threat. A polar earthworm’s defense was terrifying outside. Inside, it was just meat.

Wang Jie’s mind raced. He couldn’t fight Wu Yan here.

Lightning flickered over his skin as he held himself ready.

Wu Yan’s tone shifted. “Relax. For now, I’m not killing you.”

He raised his black dagger and stabbed it into the worm’s flesh.

The creature convulsed violently.

It had swallowed the wrong prey.

Wu Yan started cutting.

Wang Jie didn’t wait.

He turned and ran along the slick tunnel, using Sword Steps to open distance.

Wu Yan’s eyes widened. “You—”

His dagger flashed again.

A black line carved through flesh. Light exploded in as the worm’s body split, and the blinding white of Skyport poured into the opening.

The polar earthworm shrieked, rolling wildly as it died.

Wang Jie couldn’t get far—the thrashing dragged him back like a ship caught in a storm.

Wu Yan struck.

His dagger punched through Wang Jie’s Thunder Pattern as if it were paper. Thunder detonated, ripping the worm apart completely, and both men tumbled out onto frozen earth.

Wang Jie saw the dagger coming and raised his left arm.

Clang.

The blade struck his bracer and stopped.

Wu Yan blinked, surprised—and then his expression froze.

A chill far deeper than fear crawled up his spine, as if some incomprehensible predator had turned its gaze on him.

Wang Jie, too, went still, staring up at the sky as if he’d seen a miracle.

Wu Yan followed his line of sight.

Between the white earth below and the starry sky above, a yellow-orange crescent moon hung suspended—wrapped in branches and flowers. A lantern glowed softly, and beneath that warm light, a girl sat with her legs swinging, watching them with bright, unclouded eyes.

Delicate, pretty—almost unreal.

Her pupils were like black gems sunk in clear water, reflecting the depth of the stars.

The situation on the ground was, unfortunately, awkward.

Wang Jie lay on the frozen earth. Wu Yan was half-sprawled over him, the dagger still hovering far too close for comfort.

This far from the battlefield, no sound carried. Polar earthworms tunneled fast beneath the ground. They should have been alone.

And yet—

The girl smiled, and her voice drifted down. “You two disturbed me.”

The crescent moon descended. Small—only large enough for one person to ride.

She looked down at them, smile lingering, displeasure faint but unmistakable.

Wu Yan turned as pale as snow.

He knew her.

He swallowed hard and forced himself upright, facing her like a sinner before judgment. “S-sorry. We didn’t know you were here.”

The girl rolled her eyes as if he’d inconvenienced her by breathing.

Wang Jie stood too, careful with every movement. Wu Yan looked ready to press his face into the ground.

Who was she?

Wu Yan had dared to sneak into the command hub to assassinate an Elder.

Even the Six-Path Roamers and people like Su Su didn’t make him look like this.

And the girl didn’t feel ancient. There was no hint of age in her face, no weight in her eyes—only a pure, bright clarity.

She spoke again, calm and flat. “From now on, no talking. No moving.”

There was no killing intent in the words.

Still, both men went rigid.

A biting wind swept past. Somewhere far away, polar earthworms tunneled close, then drifted away again.

All Wang Jie could hear was the wind—and his own heartbeat.

Days passed.

A fruit pit dropped in front of Wang Jie’s feet, with a bit of flesh still clinging to it.

She was eating fruit.

And now Wang Jie’s stomach sank for a different reason.

His exercises.

He couldn’t control when they came. They would seize his body and force him through those movements.

If he moved at the wrong time—

Cold sweat broke out along his spine.

When the inevitable moment drew near, he couldn’t bear it. He raised a hand.

Up above, the girl stared down, unimpressed. “I said don’t move. Are you provoking me?”

Wu Yan’s eyes flicked toward Wang Jie with naked disbelief. Even he hadn’t dared twitch.

Wang Jie steadied himself, bowed slightly, and lifted his hand again—slow, respectful, asking permission rather than challenging.

The girl’s eyes brightened with sudden interest. “What?”

She sighed, as if indulging a child. “Speak.”

Wang Jie let out a shaky breath. “I cultivate a technique that forces my body into certain movements every so often. I can’t stop it. I’m not trying to disturb you, so…”

“No.”

“I truly can’t control it.”

“Then die.”

Something sliced past Wang Jie’s ear—thin, invisible, tearing the air. No sound. No trail. Only the certainty that if it had landed on his skull, he’d already be dead.

Wang Jie’s blood ran cold.

He couldn’t even sense her qi moving.

This wasn’t strength.

It was absolute.

He swallowed, mind racing, desperation sharpening into focus.

She tilted her head, suddenly amused. “Unless…”

“Unless you have a gift that can impress me.”

Her smile turned smug. “You get one chance.”

Wang Jie exhaled slowly. Running was meaningless. Fighting was suicide. If his body betrayed him mid-exercise, she would kill him without blinking.

A gift.

His fingers tightened as he reached into his storage.

He hated it.

But living mattered more.

He drew out a sword—pure white, beautifully crafted.

Zhong Yi’s weapon.

A Five Tribulations chen artifact.

“This is the best gift I can offer,” Wang Jie said, voice low.

The girl’s eyes lit up. She beckoned.

The sword floated into her hands.

She laughed softly, delighted. “Five Tribulations chen artifact… not bad. A lockforce and qi dual cultivator with no future actually carries something like this.”

Wang Jie’s eyelids twitched. She’d seen through him—qi refining and all—at a glance.

She turned the blade, admiring the craftsmanship. “Pretty, too.”

Then she waved a hand as if granting mercy. “Fine. You can move, but only in place. And you don’t make a sound.”

Wang Jie bowed again, bitterness tight in his chest.

A Five Tribulations chen artifact—gone. Just like that.

He began his exercises, forcing every movement to stay silent.

Wu Yan stared, genuinely stunned. Even he didn’t own a Five Tribulations chen artifact.

He’d been sure Wang Jie was dead.

The girl watched for a moment, curious, then lost interest. Whatever technique Wang Jie used, she’d clearly seen stranger.

She went back to playing with the sword.

Time passed.

Wu Yan, forced to stand unmoving, began to frost over—ice collecting on his lashes, his sleeves, his shoulders.

Wang Jie didn’t freeze the same way. Every few days, the exercises took him again, breaking the ice before it could fully claim him.

Fruit pits kept raining down.

One here, one there.

Then many.

The girl started tossing them on purpose, using the two men as targets whenever she got bored.

Another month crawled by.

Wang Jie endured. Every time his exercises seized him, he worried she’d notice something new and decide to kill him anyway. She didn’t. She didn’t care.

Then, one day, the lantern’s soft light spilled down closer than before.

The girl descended from her crescent moon.

Her expression had changed—playfulness gone, replaced by something sharp and wary.

Wang Jie’s heart thumped.

In the distance, laughter carried through the wind.

Old laughter. Ragged. Unhinged.

“Hahahaha…”

“Guarding… it’s guarding… hahahaha!”

The sound grew nearer.

Then the void itself rippled.

A disheveled figure approached, hair wild, movements erratic—yet his presence bent space around him like a mirror. The world blurred. Frozen earth and starry sky overlapped in Wang Jie’s sight, as if the scene couldn’t decide what it was.

Ripples rolled outward, carrying flickering images—battlefields, flames, silhouettes locked in slaughter.

Wang Jie’s breath caught.

Behind him, the girl leapt down and sprinted to meet the approaching figure.

Then—impossibly—she began copying him.

Whatever motion he made, she made it too.

Before Wang Jie could crane his neck to see, she slapped his face lightly—not hurting, but forcing his head to turn away. She did the same to Wu Yan.

No looking.

Wang Jie wanted to laugh and didn’t dare.

The laughter grew louder.

“Guarding! Hahahaha!”

The disheveled figure backflipped.

The girl backflipped too.

He dove forward, sliding across the frozen earth.

She dove and slid the same distance, not a fraction behind.

He scratched his butt.

The girl—

Wang Jie heard the movement, heard her choke on indignation, and felt a strange pity.

It really was like a big madman dragging a little madman along.

The girl’s regret was almost palpable. She should have chased these two away. If they saw this, her reputation would be ruined forever.

The big madman ran faster, looping in circles.

The girl ran after him, gnawing her lip, furious—and mortified.

Then something went wrong.

The big madman veered—

—and slammed straight into Wang Jie.

Wang Jie went down hard.