Chapter Forty-Seven: Loyal Orange!

The afterglow of the setting sun stained the western sky above the city a deep red, and the orange light poured through the changing room window, bathing the entire space in a warm hue.

There were no orders requiring overtime processing tonight.

Zhu Ying returned to the changing room right on time.

She didn’t share the same changing room as Tia and the others.

All the side doors on the right of the main building led to women’s changing rooms—a thoughtful arrangement, in case female disciples joined the Qingyun Sect in the future.

Each room contained twenty lockers.

Since there were only three of them at present, there was no need to crowd together; each one claimed a room for herself.

Zhu Ying slipped off her white T-shirt, revealing skin as fair as porcelain.

Unlike Tia, who dressed carelessly and switched out bras of every color, Zhu Ying preferred consistency—always white, though never plain, adorned with intricate lace patterns.

Her underwear followed suit.

Her full hips filled out the fabric so the panties looked nothing like the online images, stretched taut, proof of her soft, well-shaped figure.

From the wardrobe, Zhu Ying took out a snow-white slip dress.

The fabric was soft and airy, the hem embroidered with delicate patterns like scattered snowflakes descending upon it.

After changing into the dress, she carried her uniform from the changing room to the washing machine at the end of the corridor.

To accommodate the three of them, Bai Yujing had bought three separate washing machines, so each could do her own laundry.

It was in such minute details that their expenses, ever-dividing, grew ever larger.

Zhu Ying was the first to leave the main building.

With the bookshelves of the Sutra Pavilion now filled by Bai Yujing, Tia and Liu Shuangling had spent many days holed up there, rarely returning home.

But Zhu Ying had no interest in spells or scripture.

All she wanted was to further unlock the power of her Rakshasa Eyes, and to hone her mastery of Yubu and martial arts.

As for famed swords, being a half-demon, she knew the sword spirits would never respond to her.

This was an accepted truth.

With a light tap of her foot, Zhu Ying vanished like a wraith.

Yubu was blindingly fast; she needed little time to traverse the city streets and arrive at her rented apartment.

The balcony doors stood open, letting in a cool breeze.

Zhu Ying landed softly on the living room floor; the moment her toes touched down, her pupils contracted sharply.

Something was wrong.

Her jet-black pupils flickered.

A low hum burst through the air, interrupting the blossoming of the blood-red mandala patterns; Zhu Ying felt as if a thousand needles stabbed into her brain, and a muffled groan escaped her lips.

“As long as your mind suffers a powerful attack, the Rakshasa Eyes become almost impossible to open.”

A smug voice came from her right, slipping into her ear with the venomous hiss of a snake.

She gritted her teeth against the searing pain in her head and turned to look.

Two men rose from behind the sofa, one tall and bulky, the other short and thin—a striking contrast.

The thin man’s face was sharp and sinister, his right hand gripping a cylindrical object covered in densely inscribed scripture.

A mocking smile played at his lips as he said, “You dragon-born are good at hiding. We nearly failed to carry out Commander Yin’s orders because of you.”

“Kim Minsoo, cut the chatter.”

The big man suddenly spoke, his voice deep and rumbling like thunder rolling through the air.

His features seemed honest and mild, yet his eyes were cold as ice, the eyes of a beast ready to pounce.

At those words, Kim Minsoo pressed his spiritual pressure into the ground; the script shimmered into golden light.

In an instant, golden light flooded the entire living room, forming a sealed barrier that would prevent the fight within from spilling out and drawing the attention of the Six Gates, the Brocade Guards, or the Night Watchers.

He grinned. “Junho, grab her.”

Lee Junho lunged forward with the force of a hurricane, the sofa and coffee table blocking his way shattering like paper under his charge.

His fist, whistling through the air, hurtled toward Zhu Ying.

Though she couldn’t activate her Rakshasa Eyes, Zhu Ying's combat instincts remained razor-sharp. She raised her right arm to block, and at the same time, lashed out with her foot, swinging at Lee Junho’s waist like a guillotine.

He reacted instantly, dropping his elbow like a hammer to smash into the top of her foot.

A dull thud sounded. Zhu Ying felt a numbing jolt in her leg, as if struck by an iron mallet.

Lee Junho seized the moment, crashing forward like a mountain to overpower her.

She twisted at the waist, her body drifting aside like willow fluff, but before she could fully regain her stance, Kim Minsoo struck again.

Invisible waves of mental force surged at her, like a thousand needles stabbing into her mind at once.

She frowned but forced herself through the pain, launching herself like an arrow straight at Kim Minsoo.

But Lee Junho was faster.

He flashed in front of Zhu Ying, both fists pounding out like cannons.

She was forced to block with both arms, but the crushing force still sent her flying.

She crashed hard into the wall, the golden light behind her shuddering violently, as if about to collapse.

Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth; her vision blurred.

Lee Junho gave her no respite, pouncing again, his massive fist swelling in Zhu Ying’s sight.

She tried to evade, but another wave of psychic assault stalled her body.

The fist was about to smash into her.

Suddenly, the air gave a muffled boom, as if even space itself trembled from the impact.

A sky-blue scholar’s robe and a strikingly handsome, masculine face appeared in Zhu Ying’s vision—the moment Bai Yujing stepped onto the scene, an unprecedented sense of security surged through her.

It was as if a beam of light had pierced the cold darkness, sweeping away all fear and anxiety.

She knew there was no longer any danger, but the comfort of that realization made her frown.

She disliked depending on others for her safety, despised relying on anyone.

Gods must be solitary.

Zhu Ying bit her lip.

But Lee Junho was utterly appalled; his right hand felt as if buried in cement, unable to move an inch.

He twisted his torso, swinging his left leg up to Bai Yujing’s temple in an attempt to force him to release his grip.

Bai Yujing seized Lee Junho’s wrist, spun him in a powerful arc, and tossed him like a rag doll.

Lee Junho’s body twisted in the air, his right arm emitting a series of crackling sounds, dislocating from his shoulder in a spiral before crashing to the floor.

Blood sprayed through the air, as though a crimson rain was falling.

Despite the agony, Lee Junho flipped nimbly and landed beside Kim Minsoo.

His face was pale as death, cold sweat beading on his brow, blood gushing from his mutilated shoulder.

Seeing this, Kim Minsoo instantly channeled his spiritual pressure into the scripture-clad cylinder in his hand, sending invisible psychic blades slashing at Bai Yujing.

But Bai Yujing remained utterly unmoved.

His spirit had long since been tempered to the strength of steel.

The agonizing needle-pricks that could paralyze Zhu Ying were nothing but a bit of dust to him.

In a blur, Bai Yujing moved—so fast that, in Kim Minsoo and Lee Junho’s eyes, he seemed never to have left his spot. Only now he held a severed arm in his hand.

The hand still clutched the inscribed cylinder, unmistakable in its familiarity.

Kim Minsoo froze, then his pupils dilated in shock.

He looked down at his right shoulder—empty, blood gushing from the wound.

“This...this is my arm?!”

His voice trembled with disbelief.

Only then did he realize that Bai Yujing had ripped his right arm clean off.

Blood splattered over Lee Junho, who broke out in a fresh sweat of terror.

Both men were ranked ninth-level spirit masters, yet they’d noticed nothing.

Could this man be one of the Three Sovereigns or Five Emperors of the Xia Kingdom?

Impossible!

They had studied the faces of all those legendary figures, memorized them deeply—and this man before them was not among them.

Bai Yujing tossed the severed arm at Kim Minsoo’s feet, his expression icy.

“You’re still breathing because I want to know—why are you after Zhu Ying?”