"Mo Jie...!"
The shout echoed loudly across the cliffs and through the quiet forest.
Mo Jie stood tall, his face calm, but deep down, fear gnawed at him. Lang Huan—the Blue-Eyed Shura. He still remembered that night, how that madman had slaughtered so many of their Moonblade Sect disciples like cutting down grass.
But this time was different. With an important hostage in his hands, he believed Lang Huan wouldn't dare to act recklessly.
"Let them go!" Lang Huan shouted, voice steady, but there was an edge of desperation in it.
Mo Jie threw back his head and laughed arrogantly. "Hahaha... Impossible. I'm holding the real prizes here. And you? You're just clinging to a useless disciple. Kill them if you want—no one will care."
Across the clearing, a rough-looking man with a thick beard approached Feng Xiyan. He grabbed her chin roughly, tilting her head up as if inspecting a piece of meat. His eyes gleamed with vulgar amusement.
"So, this is the Eighth Princess... His Majesty's little favorite." His grin twisted. "How about you become my concubine, hmm?"
Feng Xiyan's eyes flashed with fury. "Puh!" She spat right into his face, her voice trembling with rage.
"Don't touch my daughter!" the emperor roared, struggling furiously against the ropes binding him. His veins bulged, his face flushed with helpless fury. He had never thought Feng Tianwei would stoop so low—using such a cruel trap against his own father and sister.
But the bearded man just wiped the spit off his cheek, grinning even wider. He turned to the emperor and said lazily, "Your Majesty, hand over the treasure map... or you'll regret it."
The emperor fell silent. The weight of the moment pressed down on everyone. The silence said it all. The treasure map was more important to him than his own daughter.
Finally, in a low, bitter voice, he spoke. "Even if I die... I will never give it to you."
The words struck like a blade.
Feng Xiyan felt her heart shatter into pieces. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. All her life, she had been the treasured jewel of the imperial family, the pampered princess. And now... her father was willing to sacrifice her for a treasure that might not even exist.
Lang Huan clenched her fists. Her heart ached as she looked at the carriage, where Feng Yao sat quietly. What kind of father is this? she thought bitterly. If the emperor could throw away even his favorite daughter, what hope did the eldest princess have? Feng Yao, the one he never loved... No wonder she had become so cold and distant.
A sharp ache bloomed in Lang Huan's chest.
The bearded man smirked, his voice loud and mocking. "What's the point of keeping the map, Your Majesty? Gao Fei and Bai Han are already in our hands. Without them, you'll never find the treasure anyway."
He grabbed Feng Xiyan roughly, pulling her closer, his grip leaving red marks on her arm.
Lang Huan couldn't stand to see it any longer. "Your Majesty!" she shouted. "Just give them the map!"
The Eighth Princess's maids fell to their knees, sobbing and begging for her life. Even General Wu, the proud commander, knelt, pleading with the emperor to surrender the map to save Feng Xiyan.
For a long, heavy moment, the emperor sat in silence, his face a storm of conflicting emotions.
Then, slowly, his shoulders slumped.
With trembling hands, he took out the scroll and, with a look of bitter resentment, handed it over.
Mo Jie's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Kill everyone here," he ordered coldly.
The forest seemed to freeze in that instant.
Just then, a calm voice rang out from the carriage. "Leader Mo."
All eyes turned toward the sound.
"Even if you take the map and kill us all," the voice continued, steady and composed, "there's no guarantee you'll reach Mount Baiyuan safely—let alone find the treasure."
Mo Jie's gaze darkened, narrowing toward the carriage. He knew that voice. The Eldest Princess.
"What do you mean, Your Highness?" he asked cautiously.
"Are you certain Feng Tianwei will still be alive when you reach the Soul-Lost Forest? Judging by his abilities and intelligence... I have serious doubts about my brother's chances."
Silence rippled through the clearing. The faint buzz of insects was the only sound.
Mo Jie's face twisted. Her words cut deep because they held a sliver of truth. Feng Tianwei—unreliable, arrogant, impulsive. If he'd been so capable, the treasure map would never have fallen into the Eldest Princess's hands in the first place.
Feng Yao's voice came again.
"We should work together to reach our goal. As someone who once saved your life, you should at least consider my words."
Old Liu growled in frustration, spitting to the side. "Seize the woman in the carriage!" he barked, his voice rough and impatient.
"You dare?!" Lang Huan shouted angrily, eyes blazing with rage.
But before anyone could move, Mo Jie raised his hand, stopping them.
"Old Liu, don't be rash," he warned.
He turned his gaze back to Feng Yao's carriage, a cold glint in his eyes, but a hint of calculation as well.
"What Your Highness said... makes sense."
The curtain shifted. Feng Yao stepped down from the carriage, A Li following close behind. Feng Yao's gaze fell on the black-clad man struggling in Lang Huan's grip.
"Let him go," she said softly.
Lang Huan hesitated, then dragged the man forward and threw him at Mo Jie's feet.
"Leader Mo," Feng Yao spoke again, "release them. There's no point in fighting. After all, didn't you already poison us? We're no threat to you now."
Mo Jie eyed Lang Huan carefully. True, the rest might be harmless... but Lang Huan was another matter entirely.
A tense silence stretched between them.
Then, slowly, Mo Jie raised his hand. The Moonblade Sect guards began to move, loosening the ropes and freeing Feng Xiyan and the others.
Old Liu scoffed loudly, frustration etched deep into the lines of his face. He leaned closer to Mo Jie, his voice low and mocking.
"Do you really trust that woman?"
Mo Jie's lips barely moved as he replied, voice soft, but sharp as a dagger.
"She's a hundred times more reliable than Feng Tianwei."
---
Not long after, Mo Jie's men prepared a raft to cross the lake. It was large enough to carry several people at once, but the carriages and horses had to be left behind—there was no way to bring them along.
The first group boarded the raft: Moonblade Sect disciples, carrying crates and weapons. Mo Jie stood on the shore, his face dark and grim as he watched them push off.
But just as the raft drifted into the middle of the lake—
The water exploded.
A swarm of crocodiles burst from beneath the surface, jaws snapping, tails thrashing violently.
Chaos erupted in an instant.
Screams tore through the air as the men panicked, shoving and trampling each other. Weapons clattered into the water with loud splashes. Some tried to jump off the raft, but the crocodiles were faster—dragging them under in seconds. Blood bloomed across the lake's surface, dark and thick.
On the shore, Mo Jie clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His face twisted in fury as he watched the slaughter unfold. He cursed under his breath, seething with frustration.
This was all Feng Tianwei's doing—blowing up the bridge, forcing them to take this deadly route. That reckless fool had doomed them all.
Meanwhile, the poison began to take its toll. Those who had been dosed felt it creeping through their veins—bodies trembling, cold sweat soaking their clothes, sharp pain stabbing through their chests.
The emperor collapsed to the ground, cold sweat streaming down his wrinkled face. His body curled in on itself, every breath a ragged gasp between curses and desperate pleas. "Help... help…" he groaned, voice trembling with pain.
Feng Yao turned her head away, her expression cold and detached. She felt nothing as she watched her father suffer—not even a flicker of pity.
Feng Xiyan staggered, her body shaking. Her gaze met Wei Yanzhou's—they exchanged a quick, wordless nod and slowly edged closer to Mo Jie.
Mo Jie, distracted by the chaos, didn't see it coming.
In a flash, Wei Yanzhou lunged forward. The dagger gleamed in the light, then sank deep into Mo Jie's side.
"You...!" Mo Jie gasped, the pain ripping through him. He stumbled, clutching his side as blood seeped between his fingers.
"Hand over the antidote," Wei Yanzhou demanded, his voice trembling as he struggled to stay upright, the poison sapping his strength.
With a furious growl, Mo Jie kicked Wei Yanzhou away and reached for his sword.
But Lang Huan was faster. She darted in and delivered a sharp punch that sent Mo Jie reeling backward, unable to fight back.
Old Liu heard the commotion and rushed forward to help Mo Jie. But before he could reach him, Master Xuankai blocked his path. They both drew their swords, and a fierce fight broke out. Their blades clashed again and again, sending bright sparks into the air.
Everything happened at once.
Qiu Yue and Wu Ming jumped into the battle, fighting the remaining Moonblade Sect disciples. Swords clashed, fists struck—chaos was everywhere.
One by one, the Moonblade Sect fell. They were defeated.
"Give me the antidote!" Feng Xiyan shouted.
Finally, exhausted and unable to fight anymore, Mo Jie surrendered. With a groan of defeat, he handed the antidote to Feng Xiyan.
"Got it!" she said loudly.
Lang Huan had intended to let Mo Jie live—but before she could stop him, Wei Yanzhou lunged forward in a blind fury. His dagger plunged into Mo Jie's chest, again and again, until the man collapsed, lifeless.
Feng Xiyan hurried to her father's side, pressing the antidote to his lips. But even as she saved him, a bitter sense of disappointment filled her heart. Her father saw it in her eyes—but he said nothing.
Instead, as soon as he regained his strength, the emperor rushed to Mo Jie's body, roughly searching through his robes—desperate for the treasure map.
Everyone around him could only watch in silence, shaking their heads. Feng Tianwei and His Majesty—they were no different. The apple didn't fall far from the tree. It was a bitter truth, but undeniable.
The antidote was limited. Soon, the imperial guards and elite soldiers who had been poisoned began collapsing one by one, their bodies writhing in pain. General Wu watched, grief in his eyes, as his men died in vain.
Lang Huan turned to Feng Yao and said, "Your eldest brother is an idiot. Not only did our people die—his own men paid the price as well."
Feng Yao said nothing. She stared ahead, troubled by the situation, her mind racing with worry. This journey was only becoming more dangerous.
Master Xuankai spoke urgently, his voice tense. "Your Majesty, let's check the map. Is there another route we can take?"
The emperor replied, "There is another path—but it will take longer. We'll have to go around the hill and pass through a different part of the Soul-Lost Forest."
Master Xuankai nodded. "Then we have no choice. We must take that route."