Before Hua Duzi could even think about fleeing again, Jin Rou arrived in his flying shuttle.

  He leapt from the vessel before it had fully stopped, probably because he saw only one enemy – already cornered by Bai Ning – and landed in a spray of rain and dust. “There was a bandit left, Fairy Bai Ning?” he called, walking forward. “He must have hidden himself well. How did you find him? And your signal?”

  Bai Ning didn’t take her eyes off Hua Duzi. Her sword remained drawn, the tip hovering at her side, its edge gleaming faintly through the mist. The man stood a few paces away, one hand still buried in his robes, no doubt clutching that cursed shard of immortal bone. However, apart from that, he looked utterly defeated. Panic had stripped away his composure; all that was left was fear.

  “He’s their leader,” Bai Ning said evenly. “I don’t know how he slipped away from the fight, but he was trying to escape. He carries a treasure that petrifies its target by freezing their bones. Be careful.”

  Jin Rou’s brows rose sharply. “He’s the Gu master?” His gaze narrowed as he studied the man before them. “He matches the description my father gave. Then we can’t let him leave this place. We either capture him… or end it here.”

  Bai Ning nodded once.

  His words, or perhaps the certainty behind them, seemed to strip the last remnants of reason from Hua Duzi’s eyes. Fear sharpened into desperation.

  He sneered, lips twisting, and Bai Ning felt it again: that almost imperceptible brush of something against her skin, like a whisper of air. This time it wasn’t aimed at her, and before she could warn him, Jin Rou froze in place.

  Hua Duzi immediately pulled a treasure from his storage pouch: an inch-long hammer of bone, and hurled it toward Jin Rou.

  The hammer expanded mid-flight, growing from the size of a finger to a full-sized war hammer that swung straight for Jin Rou’s ribs. Bai Ning was momentarily taken aback, but she moved on instinct, interposing her copper shield between the hammer and Jin Rou.

  It struck with a ringing clang, scattering sparks across the rain-soaked ground, before glancing off the barrier just as the petrification effect on Jin Rou faded. He gasped behind her, shaken, but Hua Duzi was already turning to run.

  Bai Ning sent a streak of swordlight slashing toward his back. Once again, that uncanny instinct of his flared, and he froze himself solid. The swordlight struck, shattering the effect, but only sent him staggering forward a few steps.

  Behind her, Jin Rou’s face shifted, from shaken, to embarrassed, and finally to furious. With a flick of his hand, a slender flying needle shot forward like lightning.

  It struck Hua Duzi’s shoulder with a sharp metallic ping and bounced off. It was like his skin had turned into iron for an instant before fading back to pale flesh. Hua Duzi remained rigid and unharmed.

  Bai Ning exhaled through her nose. She understood now why he hadn’t tried to use this technique against her earlier. On paper, it was clever: freeze the enemy, strike, then release the effect at the perfect moment. But it was risky against someone whose strength and techniques you didn’t fully understand.

  Hua Duzi had wanted to take her out quietly, and now, this showy fight was probably his worst nightmare.

  Right now, all he probably wanted to do was to run.

  Unfortunately for Hua Duzi, Bai Ning had already seen through his trump card.

  Worse still, the world around them was still collapsing. Above their heads, a battle none of them could interfere with raged unchecked. Four Core Formation cultivators were locked in desperate combat with a Gu. The sky itself seemed to tear apart under the force of their blows, and each tremor that rippled through the bubble made the ground beneath Bai Ning’s feet feel less certain.

  Hua Duzi was trapped. For all his cunning and every ounce of his desperation, this was the end, and he seemed to realize it too.

  “Wait!” he shouted, his voice cracking. Fear stripped away the last of his composure as he released his petrification technique before Bai Ning could strike again. “Wait, hear me out! There’s no reason we can’t come to an understanding.”

  He spread his hands wide, trembling, but still trying to wear the mask of reason. “I am not your enemy. I possess knowledge that could overturn the balance of the Thousand Shattered Islands! Power, wealth, prestige; whatever your sects desire, I can make it yours. Let me live, and all that I know will be yours as well. I’ll serve you. I’ll live as a slave if I must. Just... don’t kill me.”

  Bai Ning’s only response was a flick of her wrist.

  Her sword flashed, releasing another crescent of light that split the rain in two. Hua Duzi froze himself again, but the strike shattered the effect, sending him reeling backward.

  He tried to speak, but Jin Rou’s flying needle came for him from behind, slicing through the air with a hiss.

  Jin Rou’s face was a mask of thunderous disdain. “You fiends of the demonic path – you’re all the same!” His words were hard and sharp, carrying as much venom as his weapon. “Where were these pleas when you attacked my father and left him half-dead? Where were these compromises when you refined a Gu and let it devour our people?”

  He gestured sharply, and the flying needle spun around in a tight arc, striking Hua Duzi again. The sound was like steel against bronze – another useless blow. “Now you talk of mercy and bargains, when your death is the only justice left to give? What can a beggar fleeing for his life offer us? Power? Wealth? Prestige? As if. Face your end with dignity, at least.”

  However, neither Jin Rou’s condemnation nor his attacks made any difference.

  Hua Duzi froze and unfroze, danced and dodged, his movements growing more frantic as Bai Ning’s next swordlight cleaved through the rain. This time, instead of relying on his technique to absorb the blow, he released it preemptively, ducking aside to avoid both her strike and the needle that followed.

  “Jin Rou,” Bai Ning said, voice tight, “we’ll get nowhere like this. I’ll force him to break the technique early. The instant he’s exposed, you strike.”

  Jin Rou nodded, jaw clenched. His needle steadied beside his shoulder, a sliver of death awaiting his command.

  Hua Duzi stumbled backward, boots scraping over the wet, cracked stone. Poisonous rain streamed down his face and soaked through his robes, leaving him looking less like a fearsome bandit lord and more like a drowned rat. His qi flickered erratically, what little he had left spent on survival rather than resistance.

  The world around them seethed and roared. The battle above painted the sky in streaks of blinding light, and the sea howled as if trying to swallow the island whole. Amid that chaos, the three of them seemed impossibly small, just specks of life caught in the aftermath of something far greater.

  Hua Duzi’s voice came again, raw and ragged but still clinging to hope. “I’m not lying,” he said. “I hold the bone of an immortal Gu. Do you understand what that means? I know where the rest of its remains lie. That alone is enough to tempt even immortals. Spare me, and I’ll share it with you.”

  Bai Ning snorted, her expression hard as iron. “You think everyone is as corrupt as yourself. That’s no treasure; it’s a curse. And some curses should stay buried forever.”

  For the briefest moment, Jin Rou hesitated. Then he clenched his fist, decision hardening in his eyes. “She’s right,” he said. “There is no reward worth your life. Surrender, and you’ll live long enough for us to take what we need from your mind. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To live, even if just a little longer?”

  Bitterness twisted Hua Duzi’s mouth. His gaze darted over his shoulder toward the churning sea, measuring the distance, then flicked back to them.

  “That’s not much of an offer, Fellow Daoists,” he rasped. “If you push me to self-detonate, this bone goes with me. Think carefully about what you’re wasting.”

  Bai Ning was about done.

  Instead of releasing another arc of swordlight, she surged forward, blade in hand, and swung directly at Hua Duzi.

  He cursed and twisted aside, narrowly avoiding the strike, but Jin Rou’s flying needle found him first. It struck deep into his shoulder, spinning him across the slick stone and sending him crashing to the ground with a grunt. For a moment, it looked as though he might freeze himself again, but Bai Ning was already upon him. Her sword came down in a clean, merciless arc, forcing him to roll away, mud and rain spraying around him.

  She didn’t stop.

  A flick of her storage pouch unleashed five rings of different colors, each streaking through the air like a shooting star. They wove tight circles around Hua Duzi as he scrambled backward. His movements were fast; faster, in truth, than someone at his level had any right to be. His qi flared and pulsed through his limbs, lending him the speed of desperation. But this time, it wasn’t enough.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  The rings snapped shut with a metallic hum. Two locked around his wrists, two at his ankles, and the largest – a buzzing yellow ring – clamped around his neck like a collar. No matter how he strained or twisted, the bindings held firm. All he had left was the dull black shard of bone gripped tight in his hand.

  “Five Elemental Binding Rings,” Jin Rou observed, his tone grudgingly impressed. “An excellent choice.”

  Without missing a beat, he pointed, and his flying needle streaked forward once more. It struck Hua Duzi square in the chest, only to bounce off once more with a sharp clang. The man had frozen himself again, skin turned hard as iron.

  Jin Rou scowled. “Fairy Bai Ning, if you could break the effect…”

  She was already moving. A flash of swordlight burst from her blade, aimed straight at Hua Duzi’s eyes. It was enough to shatter the technique and, hopefully, blind him in the same instant. Having suffered under the petrifying effect herself, Bai Ning knew it locked not only the body but even spiritual sense.

  It worked perfectly. The swordlight shattered across Hua Duzi’s face, making him sputter and blink. He was likely planning to keep freezing himself indefinitely, over and over, but Jin Rou had already adapted. His flying needle hovered just behind Hua Duzi’s skull, poised like a viper.

  The moment the technique broke, Jin Rou struck.

  The needle pierced through the back of Hua Duzi’s head and emerged neatly from his forehead, leaving a perfectly round hole from which a thin trickle of blood escaped.

  Hua Duzi made a strangled, half-formed sound, and then his body went slack. His head dropped forward, and he collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

  Just like that, it was over.

  For a second there was only the rasp of their breathing and the patter of rain on rock. From the cliffs below came the dull roar of waves tearing themselves apart against the rocks, and above, the world still screamed with fury.

  The heavens themselves were fractured by the battle raging overhead, which was unfolding in a storm of light and qi that neither Bai Ning nor Jin Rou dared to interfere in. Through the mist, Bai Ning could just make out a glowing shell darting through the skies, flickering like a firefly caught in a tempest, each flash of white light carrying the weight of devastating power.

  Jin Rou exhaled, long and low. “Finally,” he murmured. “That’s the last of them. Now only the Gu remains.”

  Bai Ning let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The tension uncoiled from her shoulders, leaving her limbs weak. It was over.

  Master Mo Jian had returned. The bandit leader and Gu master lay dead at their feet. For the first time in hours she allowed herself to imagine home: Cloud Veil Ridge, a hot bath, and never speaking of a Gu again. If this was karmic retribution for the pill, then surely the heavens would call it even now.

  Jin Rou had been watching the battle above, but eventually he lowered his gaze. He stepped toward Hua Duzi’s corpse, the flying needle hovering idly at his shoulder like a loyal hawk. For a while he only stared, his expression unreadable. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he tore the storage pouch from the corpse’s belt and conjured a ball of fire.

  The flames blazed bright against the rain, searing away the remains of the man who had caused so much misery. However, the rain was equally relentless. It hissed and spat against the flames, smothering them until the once-fierce light dwindled to a dull red glow. By the time the last ember guttered out, all that was left was a scattering of blackened bone, and one shard of something far darker.

  A fragment of dull black bone, half-buried in ash.

  Jin Rou bent down to take it.

  Bai Ning’s telekinesis beat him. It was one of the first uses of qi a cultivator learned, a simple method of plucking things from a distance. The shard quivered, slipped from beneath Jin Rou’s fingers, and flew neatly into her outstretched palm.

  She didn’t even know why she’d done it. Instinct, perhaps. Or distrust. A quiet voice inside her whispering that this was not something he should be allowed to touch.

  Jin Rou straightened and turned toward her, his face carefully neutral. But Bai Ning’s attention was already elsewhere.

  The instant the shard touched her skin, a jolt went through her entire body, a pulse of cold so profound it was like her blood turned to ice. The sensation was agony without pain, a kind of freezing despair that made her want to scream, to fling the thing away.

  And beneath that cold came a voice.

  It was thin, reedy, and desperate. So faint it might have been mistaken for the hiss of rain, if not for the words that seared themselves into her mind.

  Kill me, it whispered. Let me rest. Kill me.

  Bai Ning froze. Her heart pounded in her ears. The world seemed to tilt, to swim in and out of focus.

  “Bai Ning!”

  Jin Rou’s voice snapped her back to herself. His flying needle was pointed straight at her chest, his eyes sharp with alarm.

  She realized she was trembling. Her breaths came fast and shallow, like she’d been running for miles without qi. Slowly, deliberately, she closed her fingers around the shard and forced her pulse to steady. “I’m fine,” she said. Her voice came out hoarse. “It just took me by surprise.”

  Jin Rou didn’t lower his weapon. “Give it to me,” he said tightly. “I’ll hand it to my father. That thing is cursed. It belongs locked away in the vaults of Blackrock Island.”

  Before Bai Ning could reply, a sound like the sky itself cracking open rolled across the sea. A mountain-splitting thunderclap that made the very island tremble beneath their feet. The waves leapt high, spraying poisonous foam into the air. Droplets shivered mid-fall, frozen for a heartbeat before crashing down again. Bai Ning flinched, then instinctively wrapped her qi around her ears to dull the force.

  When the shaking eased, she turned back to Jin Rou. “It’s safe with me as well, Fellow Daoist Jin Rou. And I don’t think something like this should be kept in a vault, or worse, used.” She arched an eyebrow, her voice sharp as her sword. “My master can destroy it, and rid the world of its curse. I can feel it: this thing wants to die. Hua Duzi must have been forcing it to obey.”

  For a moment, Jin Rou didn’t respond. His expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes shifted, a shadow passing through them that made Bai Ning’s skin prickle. The charming, easygoing man who had spent hours trying to flirt with her was gone.

  When he spoke, his voice was cool and absolute. “That is not your decision to make, Bai Ning. The treasure belonged to an enemy my father led the battle against. By right of conquest, it’s mine. I killed Hua Duzi. I will not allow anyone else to walk away with such a thing.” His gaze hardened. “It belongs to Blackrock Island. Hand it over.”

  Bai Ning forced herself not to react to the naked threat in Jin Rou’s tone. She wasn’t afraid of a fight, not truly, but having one here, right beneath a sky full of Core Formation cultivators and an enraged Gu, would be the height of stupidity.

  Instead, she decided to do something she’d been wanting to do for quite some time, but had held back from out of common sense. Mostly because it might distract her master during a life-and-death battle.

  However, this was something he needed to know.

  She flared her qi to its limit, bright and blazing, ignoring how Jin Rou immediately tensed like a bowstring. To his credit, he didn’t strike her on the spot.

  Then she shouted, at the top of her lungs, “Master!”

  Doing this, she knew, was the spiritual equivalent of donning a garish red robe, waving a flag, and jumping up and down while screaming ‘notice me!’ -but the situation called for desperate measures.

  Jin Rou gawked at her, incredulous. “What are you doing?”

  No answer came from above.

  Bai Ning gritted her teeth. She knew there was a world-shattering battle happening up there, but to ignore his own disciple? After she’d seen him blasted out of the sky and spent the last half-hour worrying herself sick?

  Well, fine then. Let no one say she was ever lacking in motivation. Whatever happened next would be entirely on him.

  She drew a deep breath, infused her qi into her voice, and bellowed so loudly that her words rattled through the very air around them, echoing off the fractured space of the battlefield.

  “Mo Jian, my lord husband, this secret wife of yours has something important to tell you!”

  Silence.

  A perfect, terrible silence, as though the heavens themselves had paused to listen, and judge.

  Then, with an audible crack of air, a vast barrier of qi descended around her and Jin Rou, sealing them off completely. Bai Ning blinked, realizing that four Core Formation cultivators were now hovering above, their combined auras pressing down like the weight of a mountain.

  All of them were looking at her with bemusement.

  All except one.

  Her gaze found Mo Jian immediately.

  He looked dreadful; pale, exhausted, and streaked with blood and smoke, but still alive. Still whole and upright. And far more than pain or fatigue, it was sheer, blazing embarrassment that painted his face. Even his ears were red.

  Well. Served him right.

  He sputtered, mouth opening and closing like a fish dropped onto a hot pan. “Bai-Bai Ning, what-what are you saying? That’s not-! Are you trying to get me killed by your mother, or make everyone think I’m some sort of deviant?”

  “Hmph,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder with casual defiance. “You should have listened the first time I called you. Besides,” she added, a mischievous glint in her eye, “it’s not like it’s untrue.”

  Mo Jian’s sputtering intensified, and all the cultivators present turned their gaze to him. The old man with the wrinkled face and the glowing vial hovering at his side was the first to speak, amusement carefully restrained. “So, this is the sort of relationship you’ve been keeping, Brother Mo? I suppose I shouldn’t judge. Far be it from me to deride another’s… romantic choices.”

  The tall, handsome man beside him snorted, fanning himself elegantly. “We’ve seen your power, Mo Jian,” he said smoothly. “And as they say, those with power… have refined tastes. Fear not. We'll learn to accept this about you.”

  Her poor master looked like he might cry. “All of you, misunderstanding me, taking such pleasure in teasing me. Bai Ning, see what you’ve done? My reputation will never be restored!” His face burned crimson.

  The man at the center, Jin Rong, was the only one unamused. “Enough,” he snapped. “You called us here for a reason. What is it?”

  Bai Ning straightened, squaring her shoulders. Before Jin Rou could speak, she went ahead, her voice steady in the presence of her master and the other cultivators. “We encountered the Gu master and killed him. I thought you should know in case it affects your battle or strategy.”

  Four surprised gazes swung toward her, and she fought to keep her chin lifted, refusing to flinch under the oppressive qi radiating from all of them. Even her master looked taken aback.

  Jin Rong was the first to regain composure. “You encountered Hua Duzi. You are certain?”

  Jin Rou picked up the thread, voice calm but firm. “I can confirm it, Father. It was indeed him.”

  Immediately, Jin Rong and her master exchanged a sharp, frantic look. Bai Ning had no idea what was being communicated silently, but hope bloomed on Jin Rong’s stern face.

  “His storage pouch,” Jin Rong demanded. “Do you have it?”

  Jin Rou nodded, producing it with a careful blink. “Yes, of course-”

  A sudden impact struck the qi barrier surrounding them. Bai Ning didn’t see what had caused it, but all the Core Formation cultivators stiffened for a moment, and the barrier flared white in response. The sound was indescribable, like a vibration that ran up her bones rather than a noise one could name.

  The old man’s eyes flicked around, tracking something beyond the barrier. “We need to move. We are sitting targets like this.”

  Master Mo Jian nodded, face hardening. “They can come with us. Bai Ning, Jin Rou, search the Gu master’s storage pouch for a jar or a vase; any sealed container, basically. He should still have the one he used to refine the Gu. Those are generally kept intact because that’s how a Gu is controlled in the early stages, before it becomes too powerful. Since this one failed to devour its master properly, breaking that container should weaken it enough for us to finish it.”

  Jin Rong’s eyes narrowed with determination. “Finally. The chance we’ve been waiting for. Let’s move.” He flared his qi, as though preparing to lift them all into the air, but the man with the fan raised a hand to stop him.

  “Wait!” he called. “What about the other Foundation Establishment cultivators and the ship? We can’t just leave them behind.”

  Jin Rong’s expression flickered between irritation and embarrassment at the oversight. He waved a hand and sent a streak of red light toward the Undersea ship. “There. I’ve sent them a message to retreat. Their part in this battle is done.

  "Now, we focus on killing the Gu.”

  no teacher-student relationship in this story.