Chapter 53
Chapter 53: Heaven-Delegated Execution
Run.
They didn’t need to say it.
Hu Qing and Shui Xin slipped out of the Formation and fled again, Shui Xin releasing a new spirit skiff and driving it like a man possessed.
Zhe Liu didn’t chase immediately.
He looked intact, but his blood and qi churned violently. His face twisted with rage.
He swore he would grind those two bugs into dust.
He swallowed a pill, then lifted his gaze.
The thunder had faded, but dark clouds still pressed low overhead, heavy and watchful—as if the Heavenly Dao itself was leaning down on his shoulders.
It made his skin crawl.
He needed to finish this fast.
His figure blurred. Space tore open under his hand, and he pursued, slipping through the tear with the ease of someone used to the Immortal Realm.
In his mind, he scoffed. The lower realm’s order truly was loose. In the Immortal Realm, tearing space like this would be unthinkable.
“What do we do?” Hu Qing shouted over the wind.
Shui Xin’s eyes churned with something sharp and dark. “We can’t leave him alive.”
Hu Qing had secrets she couldn’t speak aloud. Did he have none?
An immortal was a problem he couldn’t face head-on—but Heavenly Dao suppression was on their side too.
Shui Xin glanced back. Sunlight was still bright here, but a bank of dark clouds chased them, rolling closer with every heartbeat.
A cold curve tugged at his mouth.
“Split up,” he said.
Hu Qing didn’t hesitate for even a breath. “Not a chance.”
Her voice went flatter, harder. “If I die, I’m dragging you with me.”
Shui Xin choked, teeth grinding.
Then she added, “If I’m the only one who survives, the Buddhist Sect won’t let me go either.”
Shui Xin almost laughed. “You’re going to get in my way.”
It wasn’t an excuse. Once he used that secret art, it wouldn’t distinguish friend from foe. He didn’t want Hu Qing dying by his hand.
Hu Qing took that as even more reason to stay. Besides, if both of them together couldn’t kill Zhe Liu, what could one Shui Xin do?
She kept stuffing pills into her mouth and shoved more toward him. “Then take your pills. Hurry up.”
This was a blood feud now. If Zhe Liu lived, they died.
Shui Xin’s jaw tightened. Something settled in his eyes.
He slammed his shoulder into Hu Qing.
Hu Qing dodged with a laugh—until she realized the dodge had been the point.
In the direction she leapt, something invisible snapped shut.
An unseen net wrapped her whole body.
It yanked tight, heavy as a mountain, and dragged her down.
Shui Xin didn’t even look back. He turned to face the pursuing Zhe Liu, hands already moving, fingers weaving as thin threads of black qi seeped out and gathered into a growing, shapeless mass.
“Gah—so you finally figured it out—gah—”
“No,” Juan Bu barked inside Hu Qing’s head. “He’s about to fall into devilhood.”
Hu Qing cursed. “Emotionless Thread! Cut this damn net!”
The net only restrained her body, not her spiritual power, but she couldn’t brute-force it open. Even Bai Wen couldn’t slice it.
Fine.
She still had Emotionless Thread. And Shui Xin had said she was stronger than him now.
A thin, pale thread slipped out and wrapped around her.
The moment it touched the net, it pulsed with excitement.
Eat it. Eat it.
Hu Qing almost lost her mind. “Now? You want to snack now?”
More threads poured out, spreading over the net until it was perfectly covered, as if the net had been dressed in a second skin. The threads opened like countless tiny mouths and bit down.
Hu Qing grit her teeth as the ground rushed up. “Then bite a hole! Let me out!”
Emotionless Thread sent back a calm, maddening refusal: It won’t work. If I open one hole, it regrows instantly. I have to eat it all at once.
Hu Qing wanted to scream. “Then eat faster!”
Emotionless Thread’s response felt like a sigh: What an unreasonable woman…
She hit the ground like a dropped stone.
Mud splashed up and swallowed her face. It looked like a long rain had passed through here. The world was wet and slick, puddles everywhere.
Hu Qing spat mud. Then spat again. “Peh. Peh.”
Juan Bu sounded baffled. “The net didn’t seal your spiritual power. Why didn’t you shield yourself?”
“What shield?” Hu Qing wiped her face, furious and exhausted. “Zhe Liu shattered it when he went all out earlier.”
Only then did she realize—when Zhe Liu had erupted, the Thunder Dragon and Soul-Locking Chain had crashed into her.
Where were they?
A rush of sound answered her.
Blue-purple dragon scales flooded over her skin, hardening into armor. A huge dragon head wedged itself beside her own head, crowding her vision.
The Soul-Locking Chain hung across her waist, stomach, and arms.
Hu Qing twisted her neck with effort. “Thunder Dragon. Be good. Pull your head back in.”
The dragon ignored her and threw back its head, roaring up at the dark clouds.
Above, the sky dimmed as if the sun had been snuffed out. A crushing pressure rolled over the land. Somewhere in the distance, animals cried. Birds flapped up in panic and then dropped out of the air like stones.
The world fell silent except for the low, steady rumble of thunder.
Emotionless Thread took its final bite.
The net vanished.
Hu Qing kicked up to her feet and looked into the sky, breath coming in short, burning pulls.
Juan Bu’s voice tightened. “What other tricks do you have?”
Hu Qing dropped to her knees.
She lifted both hands toward the heavens. “Heaven, my father.”
Then she slammed her forehead into the mud. “Earth, my mother.”
Juan Bu nearly choked. “Are you possessed?”
Hu Qing answered by doing what she did best: committing fully to insanity.
She pressed her bloodied forehead to the ground and spoke so fast the words tripped over one another.
“Dad, Mom, your ungrateful bastard of a son ran off for years and came back just to repay kindness with betrayal and burn bridges! My brother and I are pure, homegrown, loyal through and through! A golden nest or a silver nest can’t beat our own doghouse—I went to the Immortal Realm and still raced back home as fast as I could!”
Her voice rose, fierce and shameless. “People say drink water and remember its source, fallen leaves return to their roots! Dad, Mom, our family can’t scatter, our nest can’t collapse! Parents above, today—make that unfilial son return to his roots!”
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Three more kowtows.
When she lifted her head, blood streaked her forehead.
She rubbed her palm hard into the wound, then slapped that bloody handprint onto the earth, as if sealing an oath.
“Today…” Her voice turned sharp as steel. “Heaven-Delegated Execution.”
Juan Bu’s mind went blank for a heartbeat.
Heaven-Delegated Execution?
How?
He hadn’t taught her anything like that.
Hu Qing rose slowly, one knee at a time, dragging herself upright like she was climbing out of her own grave. The bloody handprint sank into the mud like a brand.
She raised her right hand. “Lightning—come!”
The dragon scales on her body flared with light. Lightning streamed through the seams between scales and poured into her right palm.
The dragon head roared up at the clouds.
Hu Qing lifted off the ground, rising into the air.
Her dantian boiled. A tiny phantom Thunder Dragon coiled within it. Her nascent soul sat astride Bai Wen, solemn as a general, directing spiritual power in a tight, relentless spiral.
Gold fire spirit power surged into that vortex—then, impossibly, became lightning.
Lightning flowed across Hu Qing’s body in a steady flood.
Juan Bu couldn’t help thinking: How is she converting gold fire into lightning power?
Because the Thunder Dragon has lived in her dantian for so long?