Perhaps feeling that things had gotten a bit too serious just now, Jiang Zirou patted Jiang Cheng on the shoulder and smiled faintly, “Anyway, from now on, you count as one of my people!”

Tears welled up at the corners of Jiang Cheng’s eyes.

He had entered the palace from a young age and because he was small and weak he had been bullied constantly. Later he was assigned to the worst of the worst places—the Sutra Repository Pavilion—to work as a cleaning eunuch.

He had thought his whole life would pass like this, but unexpectedly, in this very pavilion he met the noble person who would change his fate, a ray of brilliant sunlight shining into his once grey and hopeless world.

Ignoring Jiang Zirou’s attempt to stop him, Jiang Cheng knelt to the ground.

Bang!

Blood seeped from his forehead, staining the floor red.

“Your Highness’s great kindness, this servant will never forget. From now on, whether it is climbing the mountain of blades or plunging into the sea of fire, as long as Your Highness commands, I will obey unto death!”

“No need for such things.”

Jiang Zirou helped him up and told him to focus on cultivating diligently, then waved her hand and took her leave.

“Oh—right!”

Pushing open the door, she seemed to think of something and turned back to say to Jiang Cheng, “From now on, in front of me, don’t call yourself ‘this servant’ anymore. Starting today, you count as half a disciple of mine, not my underling.”

Jiang Cheng said nothing, tears streaming down his face. He watched Jiang Zirou’s figure disappear into the golden autumn sunlight and remained in place for a long time without moving.

* * *

Leaving the imperial capital.

It was the height of autumn, the weather crisp and bright, the scenery of the mountains and rivers magnificent and vast. Walking and stopping along the way felt quite carefree.

It wasn’t particularly far, but even with Jiang Zirou’s cultivation, it still took half a month of travel.

Great Xia divided its territory into states and prefectures.

There were two major southern states: inland was Yizhou, with pleasant climate, rich produce and flourishing culture and economy.

Farther out was Liangzhou, vast in size, where all people revered martial strength and the martial path prospered.

When she arrived in Yizhou, Jiang Zirou had truly entered the southern region, but Yizhou was full of song and dance, peaceful and prosperous, with no signs of calamity.

Continuing forward, three more days passed.

Reaching Liangzhou, the temperature dropped and the bleak autumn wind carried a faint aura of killing intent.

Liangzhou was enormous—three times the size of Yizhou—yet its population was less than half. Though desolate, there was no sign of demonic qi.

Jiang Zirou was puzzled but could only continue forward.

* * *

Liangzhou bordered the Yan Kingdom and Nanyue and wars often broke out.

Along the road, she occasionally saw dried bones half-buried in sand, collapsed houses and ruins and after walking for half a day, not a single sign of human life appeared.

Passing through a large uninhabited zone, at dusk, the wind and sand swept wildly across the sky.

Jiang Zirou arrived at a desolate village.

‘Bloodstains…’

The village was long deserted, but the splattered fresh blood and scattered severed limbs had not yet dried. On the broken bodies, Jiang Zirou detected faint traces of demonic qi.

‘Was this the work of demons?’

Her expression grew heavy. Without resting, she followed the road south.

“Hoo…”

Night fell, the sky turning completely overcast, but the fierce wind did not cease, sweeping sand and dust everywhere and howling desolately.

She wrapped a sand-proof scarf over her face and put on a thick bamboo hat, feeling somewhat better.

When she reached a fork in the road.

The roaring wind carried with it the sound of a woman crying. Jiang Zirou lifted her head and walked toward the direction of the cry.

Under the pitch-black sky, amidst the raging sandstorm, a flicker of firelight danced.

Drawing close.

She discovered a woman crouched beside a fire basin, crying as she cooked.

“Big sister, it’s cold outside. Why don’t you go home?” Jiang Zirou asked gently.

“Home… is gone. My child is dead. There is no going back…”

The woman stirred the pot as she answered. A strange, heavy meat fragrance rose from the broth…

“Who destroyed your home, how did your child die?”

“Demons…”

“Do you know where those demons came from?”

Jiang Zirou’s heart leapt with hope. She took out a steamed bun from her breast pocket and bent down to offer it to the woman.

The woman lifted her head—her face was rotting, three claw marks had torn apart what once must have been delicate features, pus dripping down the wounds, her pale eyeballs already devoid of focus.

Shoving the food into the woman’s arms, Jiang Zirou turned away, heart full of pity.

She was about to stand, but just then, from the corner of her eye, she saw a pale skull rolling in the fire basin along with tender red flesh.

“Ugh!”

Seeing this suddenly, even with Jiang Zirou’s Great Grandmaster composure, nausea surged from her stomach. Her left hand unconsciously tightened around the Great Xia Dragon Sparrow at her waist, but after thinking carefully and realizing the woman had lost all sanity and acted out of hopelessness, Jiang Zirou could only loosen her grip helplessly.

She stood and prepared to leave.

Unexpectedly, at that moment, the woman extended a blood-stained finger and pointed toward the southwest. A faint, raspy voice emerged.

“Demons… Youzhou…”

* * *

After one night.

Jiang Zirou sat beneath a withered tree.

With a “gulp,” she tilted back a mouthful of fine wine, finally feeling the vexation in her chest lighten a bit.

A rosy flush bloomed on her fair cheeks, she was already somewhat drunk.

Drip~

The last drop of wine slid down her throat as she lowered the gourd.

‘Being too strong is not entirely a blessing… it’s far too difficult to even get a little drunk.’

Not wanting to recall what she saw the previous evening Jiang Zirou frowned, lost in thought.

‘Where exactly is Youzhou…’

She had spent six whole years in the Sutra Repository Pavilion, reading an ocean of books. If not the most knowledgeable person alive, she was not far off.

Yet she had never heard of Youzhou.

‘Is it a local name, or some special place… never mind. The demons must be nearby. I’ll walk around and ask more people.’

* * *

Another half day passed.

Just as Jiang Zirou began to feel hungry, in the distance, a run-down tavern appeared in her line of sight.

Delighted, she knocked on the door.

A burly, bearded man in a yellow sweat-stained shirt drunkenly pushed it open.

The noise of chatter and the smell of wine rushed out.

Removing her bamboo hat, she stepped inside.

The originally rowdy crowd froze the moment they saw Jiang Zirou. The entire tavern abruptly fell silent.

“Heh heh… I was wondering why all of Liangzhou felt so desolate. So the thousand years’ worth of spiritual qi accumulated here has all been sucked away by you little lass!”