Chapter 338

Chapter 338: A Blood-Red Kiss

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Wang Jie heard his own heartbeat slowing—slower and slower—like a drum counting down to death.

Ting Chen’s aura filled him with unease. His instincts screamed to stay away.

But he was already dying.

What did instincts matter?

He’d seen dead people.

As Wang Jie forced himself forward, a deep current erupted from Ting Chen’s body and shot into the sky.

It wasn’t starforce.

It wasn’t qi.

Or maybe it was both.

Wang Jie couldn’t tell. He couldn’t even understand it.

As the current boiled, symbols spread across Ting Chen’s skin. They crawled along her arms and over her body, as if an invisible brush were carving them into her flesh.

He tried to close in—and was blasted back again and again by that pressure.

His soul trembled.

What kind of presence was this?

Ting Chen lifted her head. The symbols poured down her arms to her fingertips and condensed into droplets.

If you stared hard enough, you could see celestial circuit of stars traces forming inside each droplet, turning and shifting as if the stars were being rewritten in miniature.

Her hair whipped upward, growing longer and longer, shifting from pink toward black.

She was still there, yet the void around her seemed to sink into endless gray.

The ground beneath her flooded with symbols.

The sky above her flooded with symbols.

It was as if she were remaking heaven and earth.

Across the universe, stunned silence fell.

“What… is that?”

“Those symbols… talismans? Twelve paths? Heavenly stems?”

“It can’t be.”

“That power should’ve vanished.”

“The Star Vault Vista…?”

In Black-White Heaven, Shu Rang stared, shock rippling through him. He took an involuntary step forward.

Zhi Yu asked blankly, “What is that power?”

Shu Rang’s voice turned heavy. “Twelve heavenly stems.”

“If I’m not mistaken… no. This should have been erased from the universe long ago. Why does the Star Vault Vista still have it?”

“And why has a child cultivated it?”

His eyes darkened as he stared at the screen.

Against this, Wang Jie would lose.

No one had imagined the Full-Star Tournament’s final battle would end here—before a legendary force like the Twelve Heavenly Stems.

This was Star Position power. The kind whispered about like a myth.

What had the Star Vault Vista inherited?

Just watching Ting Chen now, everyone felt the outcome settle into place.

This was over.

On the arena, Ting Chen looked down at Wang Jie from afar and raised her hand.

Then she pressed down.

She didn’t move, yet the deep current fell like the sky itself, slamming Wang Jie face-first to the ground.

For the first time in his life, Wang Jie felt powerless against someone in the same realm.

Tracing Shadow could be endured. Endless could be fought through.

But this…

This felt like a power that didn’t belong to the world at all.

Ting Chen walked toward him, boots tapping softly, her voice calm and merciless.

“I told you. You’re not worthy.”

“The gap between you and me is larger than heaven and earth.”

“I have many powers. I could kill you without using this.”

“But only this can make you understand how you should face us.”

“Give up your fantasy.”

“Never come near us again.”

She stopped before him.

“Wang Jie.”

“You’re not worthy.”

Wang Jie lay pinned, unable to move. The pressure was so immense he couldn’t even lift his head.

He gritted his teeth, fists clenched tight enough to shake.

His heartbeat slowed further.

His life slid toward the edge.

Fine.

If he couldn’t lift his head, he’d force it.

Bone-Motion Art.

Mid-tempered sword-thread.

He dragged his ruined body upward, inch by inch, until he could see Ting Chen again.

She stood above him, black boots planted in the blood-stained dust.

Those strange symbols flowed around her like heavenly authority.

At her fingertips, the droplets held celestial circuit of stars traces—beautiful, cold, and lethal.

Wang Jie stared at her, mouth full of blood, and forced out the words through clenched teeth:

“Not worthy?

“Maybe I believed that once.”

“But now? I’m finishing my master’s mission.”

“You two… aren’t going anywhere.”

Ting Chen’s eyes narrowed. “Courting death.”

The deep current slammed down again.

Boom.

Wang Jie’s back tore open. Flesh split. Blood spread across the arena in a crimson bloom.

Even the spectators flinched.

This should be the end.

Wang Jie raised a blood-slick finger and began to draw.

Stroke by stroke.

Symbols. Lines. Something that made no sense to anyone watching.

They stared, bewildered.

What could he possibly do?

He couldn’t turn the tide.

Even at his peak, he couldn’t have fought Ting Chen like this.

What was left?

Ting Chen didn’t stop him.

She wanted him to exhaust every last ounce of pride. She wanted his spirit to snap, forever.

An ant staring at the sky—nothing but a dream.

When his final stroke completed, Wang Jie looked up at her and gave a ragged, blood-stained smile.

“Have you… ever seen… a dead man?”

Ting Chen blinked, confused.

Then her body locked.

Music whispered into her ears—cold, strange, like instruments playing from beneath the Nine Nether.

A chill flooded her bones. Her face went paper-white.

Something was looking at her.

A gaze she couldn’t see. Couldn’t touch.

Yet she could feel it.

Her body felt it. Her instincts felt it. Her sense of danger felt it.

It was there.

Who?

Who was watching them?

This was the Starry Sky Martial Tournament. No one should be able to interfere.

Even the strongest experts outside shouldn’t be able to reach into the arena.

So why could this gaze?

What was it?

No one understood what Ting Chen faced.

Only Ting Chen and Wang Jie stood under that gaze.

Wang Jie felt it too—an icy sensation like falling into a bottomless abyss.

His body stiffened.

But his body was already ruined. He was already moving on Bone-Motion Art, forced along by strings.

At this moment, he had nothing left to fear.

Ting Chen couldn’t move.

But he could.

And he would.

Not worthy?

Then I’ll show you what worthy looks like.

The IOU Slip.

Qing Feng Bu Gui Ke!

His mangled body rose, slowly, horribly, under the stunned eyes of the universe.

He swayed, barely upright, and stepped closer.

Ting Chen’s pupils flickered wildly.

Move.

Move!

Why couldn’t she move?

Her instincts held her down like chains, like she was staring into another world.

But why could he move?

Wang Jie stepped once.

Twice.

Three times.

He reached her.

Then he bent down.

And kissed her.

The universe fell silent.

Countless people stared as if their minds had shut off.

Ting Chen’s lips were red—then crimson, stained with streaks of blood.

Wang Jie’s blood.

Heat and iron and the sharp, overwhelming presence of a man slammed into her senses.

For a heartbeat, she could only stare.

He… he… how dare he?

Rage exploded.

She forced herself free of instinct, screamed, and struck with her palm—those droplets at her fingertips swirling like miniature star paths.

At the same instant, Wang Jie threw a punch.

Palm and fist hit each other.

Half of Wang Jie’s body shattered.

Ting Chen’s chest was punched through.

A bloody hole exploded out her back.

Blood sprayed across the arena.

She stared at Wang Jie in disbelief.

Her defense—broken?

Impossible.

Under the Twelve Heavenly Stems, her defense should have been untouchable by him.

Where did this power come from?

It didn’t matter.

Her heart had been pierced. Her life force collapsed. Her body began to fade.

Wang Jie was fading too.

He had already been on the verge of death. His body was held together only by mid-tempered sword-thread and sheer refusal.

Even with half of him gone, he didn’t die instantly—because his internal connections had long since been destroyed.

As long as his head remained, he could still stand for a moment.

But not for long.

Ting Chen disappeared.

And Wang Jie followed.

Under the stunned gaze of the universe, he lifted his remaining left hand and pointed at the sky.

“The Wandering-Star Tournament opens in ten years.”

“My name is Wang Jie.”

“My master is Shu Rang.”

Then his body vanished.

He died.

The light screen closed.

For a long time, the universe couldn’t speak.

The Full-Star Tournament’s final battle had surpassed all understanding.

The result was even more impossible.

Reversal after reversal.

A fight carved out of pain and will.

And that final, blood-red kiss—burned into the minds of countless witnesses.

—

In Black-White Heaven, Wang Jie opened his eyes and instinctively checked his body.

Only when he confirmed he was intact did he finally breathe out.

He turned—and saw Shu Rang.

Shu Rang stared at him in open amazement. “You actually did it. Even I didn’t think you could beat the Twelve Heavenly Stems.”

He laughed, then shook his head. “And that kiss… direct.”

“Twelve Heavenly Stems?” Wang Jie asked, confused. He said nothing about the rest. That part had been pure impulse.

“A cultivation method,” Shu Rang said.

Wang Jie gave an awkward smile. When you didn’t understand something, sometimes the only answer was something even less understandable.

He had won because he’d drawn that figure—summoned that gaze.

Without it, even borrowing power from the IOU Slip wouldn’t have helped.

He would’ve been pinned to the ground, unable to move.

“To be honest,” Wang Jie said, voice low, “before the tournament, this disciple never imagined the Full-Star Realm could hold so many terrifying existences.”

“Any one of them could probably pass for peak Roaming-Star Realm combat power.”

Shu Rang chuckled. “Yet you still stood at the top.”

“Go rest.”

“You announced the Roaming-Star Realm tournament ten years from now. Ten years isn’t long.”

“Yes.”

Wang Jie left.

He met up with Qing Zheng and the others, spoke briefly, then collapsed into sleep.

The tournament hadn’t lasted long.

But it had exhausted him down to the marrow.

—

At the Star Vault Vista, Ting Chen was smashing things in rage.

Ting He hovered outside the room, carefully keeping her distance. Sister was truly furious.

Ting Can had already fled.

“Wang Jie!” Ting Chen’s voice tore through the walls. “I will not let you go! I will not—!”

Across the universe, some argued, some raged, some laughed.

Countless people who had bet everything went bankrupt and cursed Wang Jie until their throats were raw.

But there were others—eyes lifted toward the stars.

The Roaming-Star Realm tournament was only ten years away now.

Wang Jie was hateful. He had dragged it out.

Starting immediately would’ve been better.

Still… ten years was only ten years.

They could wait.

That day, Black-White Heaven welcomed two guests.

They walked through the Ring-Sect Corridor under heavy guard, disciples watching them like hawks.

A Hundred-Star Realm elder stepped forward, face solemn. “Who are you? You entered our sect without permission. Do you understand the consequences?”

They were both young men.

The one in front curved his lips in a casual smile. “Gu Qing He. I’ve come to pay a visit.”

The elder’s face changed instantly. “You’re Gu Qing He?”

He hurried to report.

Not long after, White Realm Lord Jun Qian arrived in person. His expression was calm as he faced Gu Qing He.

“So it’s you—one of the former Tian Cang Guarding Star Realm,” Jun Qian said evenly. “Why have you trespassed into Black-White Heaven without consent?”

Gu Qing He answered slowly, eyes steady.

“Pressuring your sect.”

“Crushing your people.”