The Husky and His White Cat Shizun

Chapter 221 - "Dragon Mountain" Interlock

Xue Meng almost choked on his own blood, but Mo Ran didn't have the luxury to waste time being angry. He turned back into the horde of corpses and took up the first line of defense.

Chu Wanning had been assisting Nan Gongsi in adjusting the clearly tampered mechanism. Seeing Mo Ran struggling in the front lines, he immediately flew to the side of the palace entrance and shouted, "Mo Ran, come back!"

"Shifu..."

Chu Wanning cast a golden barrier. The barrier's light flared, forcefully pushing the corpse horde back several yards. Then, he swiftly placed three protective barriers at the long staircase, palace entrance, and the crevices of the stone door. Afterward, he pulled Mo Ran back.

"Stop for now."

Mo Ran was anxious. "Shifu's barrier won't last long within Dragon Mountain's territory! Why must you do this?!"

Chu Wanning's eyes were as cold as frost and as sharp as purple lightning. He gritted his teeth, fiercely shoved Mo Ran back into the palace, and said, "You're injured all over and still want to go throw your life away. Go meditate! Shi Mingjing!"

"Shifu, I'm here."

Chu Wanning pointed at Mo Ran in mid-air and sternly said, "Heal him."

Shi Mo nodded. "Yes, Master."

Mo Ran held onto Shi Mo's outstretched hand and said to Chu Wanning, who had already turned his back, "It's just superficial wounds, Master. Your barrier can at most hold for the duration of one incense stick of time, and it will consume a great deal of your spiritual energy. You..."

Without turning around, Chu Wanning stood bathed in the light. "Then I'll hold it for that one incense stick of time."

Mo Ran tried to speak again but was stopped by Shi Mo. Shi Mo's cool hand touched his skin as he rolled up Mo Ran's sleeve to begin healing him. Mo Ran met his gaze, and Shi Mo silently shook his head at him before lowering his eyes to concentrate on his spell.

Chu Wanning said, "Xue Meng."

"Here, Master."

"I won't be able to hold on much longer. When I can't, you take over. Don't push yourself too hard. If you feel strained, let Lord Zun take over."

Xue Zhengyong hurriedly said, "Alright, it would be better to take turns."

Chu Wanning continued to pour his spiritual energy into the third barrier and said, "There's another matter that requires Lord Zun's assistance."

"Speak."

Chu Wanning gritted his teeth and said, "Ask those cowards hiding behind to send over everyone who can fight, except for those from Treading Snow Palace and Solitary Moon Night who aren't skilled in close combat!"

"…And if they don't come?"

Chu Wanning replied, "Then we'll wait for the palace gates to be breached and accept our fate. We'll see if they still dare not come."

Xue Zhengyong hurried off, while Nan Gongsi was staring gloomily at the broken half of a lock, unsure of what to do or why the original sect leader's prohibition had suddenly been broken.

Logically speaking, no one should have been able to alter the order against the evil spirit of the flood dragon once it was set by Nangong Changying. So why was this happening now…

As Xue Zhengyong sent capable people to deal with the situation, Ye Wangxi offered, "I'll go."

Nan Gongsi immediately snapped back to reality and held her back. "How can you, as a young lady, possibly—"

But Ye Wangxi stared at the meek disciples from Jiangdong Sect who were avoiding eye contact and dodging the issue. She said coldly, "Even if the Confucian Wind Sect only has two members, neither of us is a coward."

The middle-aged female cultivators who had mocked her for being a woman earlier fell silent, diverting their gazes elsewhere and avoiding Ye Wangxi's face.

Thus, Xue Zhengyong gathered a group of people, then suddenly froze. "Hanyue? Why are you… No, no, no, you're not skilled in this sort of thing. Go back."

Mei Hanxue appeared cool and distant today as he said, "Uncle, don't worry. I know what I'm doing; I won't treat this lightly."

Xue Zhengyong glanced at the Treading Snow Palace's palace master, who didn't object. With no other choice, he allowed Mei Hanxue to join the group.

Jiang Xi frowned and said, "Are we just going to keep defending like this? It would be better to leave some skilled in close combat to check the back hall."

Xue Zhengyong replied, "Let's hold them off for a while and see if we can fix the mechanism. Going together is the best plan. If it can't be repaired, then we'll have to split into two groups – one to resist, the other to investigate the back hall."

Jiang Xi said, "…That works too. But who knows how to fix the mechanism?"

At that moment, a hand trembled as it rose. The humiliated Ma Yun, who had just been scolded by Jiang Xi, cautiously poked his head out and said weakly, "Well, about these mechanical contraptions… I think I might be able to give it a try."

Jiang Xi was both amused and exasperated. "Then why haven't you gone yet?"

Ma Yun dragged Nan Gongsi along with him, stumbling away. Xue Zhengyong led the combat team away as well.

Jiang Xi turned around, surveying the divided grand hall that had become a hellish battleground and a celestial paradise. He fell into deep contemplation.

His gaze swept over those still chatting and laughing, conversing, or suffering tortures on the other side. Finally, his eyes landed on Nan Gongliu, who had been dazedly crouching beside a basket of oranges.

It was perplexing to him.

Why hadn't Nangong Liu and the other pawns in this hall gone berserk like the corpses outside, killing everything in sight?

If Xu Shuanglin were to seize control of these Jolyn Chess pieces in the hall and turn them against them, they would undoubtedly be overwhelmed, caught between an external and internal crisis.

So why wasn't he doing it?

Was he unwilling?

Or... unable?

Jiang Xi was surprised, but Mo Ran was not in the least.

He could clearly sense that the Jolyn Chess pieces in the hall had all retained their former personalities, obsessions, and even some memories. They were entirely different from the corpse hordes controlled by the "Shared Heart Formation" outside. It was an inappropriate comparison, but the zombies outside were like marionettes on strings, while those inside were undead with their own distinct personalities.

There was only one reason Xu Shuanglin wasn't controlling these undead beings – his spiritual energy had reached its limit.

"Grandmaster Chu, lend me a hand!"

A faint cry echoed from below the stone steps, catching Chu Wanning's attention. He looked down and saw Hua Binan leading a dozen cultivators, struggling desperately to break free from the staircase.

They had been bitten by venomous snakes earlier and were resting when they unexpectedly encountered a second wave of zombie attacks. Half of their group was instantly overwhelmed. The ones still fighting were severely injured. Chu Wanning immediately raised his hand to cast another protective barrier around them, then swung his sword, Tianwen, to repel the zombies closing in.

"Come here!"

Chu Wanning extended his hand to Hua Binan.

Mo Ran, however, suddenly felt a sense of foreboding. Ignoring Shi Mo's unfinished treatment, he promptly stood up to stop him. "Be careful, Master!"

But Hua Binan showed no signs of distress. He trembled as he grasped Chu Wanning's offered hand, allowing himself to be pulled into the stronger protective barrier behind Chu Wanning. Turning around, Chu Wanning called out, "Some help over here!"

One by one, the survivors were pulled back and supported into the main hall. They all groaned and gasped for air, their faces smeared with blood, their expressions filled with agony.

Jiang Xi led Solitary Moon Night's disciples forward. Kneeling before Hua Binan, he displayed a rare look of concern. "How did you get so badly hurt?"

"I'm fine, Lord. You should check on the others first," Hua Binan replied, leaning against a pillar. His hat and veil were torn, and his robe was soaked in blood. Jiang Xi tried to take his pulse, but Hua Binan held out his hand to stop him. "It's nothing, just minor injuries. It's your disciple...cough, he's seriously wounded. Please tend to him first, don't worry about me..."

Everyone was severely injured; some had even lost a limb. In comparison, Hua Binan, who could still speak coherently, was indeed in better condition.

Jiang Xi muttered under his breath and glanced at Hua Binan before turning to tend to the others' injuries.

Hua Binan, trembling, fumbled in his Qiankun Bag for a bottle of hemostatic powder. Just as he was about to sprinkle it on his wound, a hand reached out and took the porcelain bottle from him. Mo Ran said, "I'll help you."

"No need..."

Mo Ran's gaze was deep and intent as he looked at Hua Binan. "It's just applying some medicine—simple enough."

Hua Binan snatched back the bottle and whispered, "I'm not used to having others touch me. Besides, you're not a healer; you'd only make things worse."

"I can help you then."

"Shi Mo?" Mo Ran turned his head and saw that Shi Mo had already deftly set down his medical kit. Upon seeing it, Hua Binan pursed his lips and fell silent, no longer protesting.

Shi Mo unfolded the silver needle case and said softly, "Senior Master Healer, forgive any inadequacies in my treatment."

Hua Binan: "..."

His wounds were severe, and a direct spell to stop the bleeding would be ineffective. First, spirit needles had to be used to seal off the flow. A cold glow flashed as the sharp needles pierced through the air. Shi Mo's eyes shimmered with the light of the silver needles, and within moments, more than ten needles had already been inserted.

"The veil and bamboo hat of Senior..."

A hint of gloom flickered in the eyes of Cold Scale Sacred Hand, but he knew that certain acupuncture points had to be pierced on the face. With a fierce expression, he said, "I'll remove it myself."

The bloodstained veil and hat fell, revealing the face that Cold Scale Sacred Hand had never shown to anyone.

It was an extremely peculiar face. The upper half was still relatively handsome, but below the nose, the entire visage was distorted by burns, resembling the skin of some kind of echinoderm.

Hua Binan lifted his head, a subtle tinge of resentment and mockery in his gaze. "What's the matter? Is Grandmaster Mo not leaving yet? Are you staying here to admire the view?"

"…Sorry."

Hua Binan sneered behind him, "I told you not to stand here in the first place, but you didn't listen. Now you're apologizing with your lips, but who knows what you're really thinking—probably something like 'this Cold Scale Sacred Hand is disgustingly ugly,' huh? Huh."

Mo Ran shook his head and didn't say anything more, leaving the scene.

Martial Lord Ma was still trying to fix the broken iron chain, while at the entrance of the Heavenly Palace, Chu Wanning's spiritual energy was almost depleted. He turned to Xue Meng and said, "Xue Meng, take over!"

Xue Meng immediately understood and stepped forward with his sword. Their transition was seamless; not even a single zombie managed to squeeze in during the brief interval.

The moment Chu Wanning removed the barrier, he couldn't help but take a step back. Mo Ran saw his pale complexion and felt an unbearable ache in his heart. However, he couldn't do anything in front of everyone, not even hold Chu Wanning's hand. All he could do was suppress his emotions and ask, "Wan... Master, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Chu Wanning replied with a soft cough. "I just expended more spiritual energy than I intended."

But Mo Ran knew that Chu Wanning's spiritual core was inherently fragile. What might not be a big deal for others could be devastating to Chu Wanning...

Mo Ran closed his eyes.

In their previous lives, they were on opposite sides of morality, torn apart. Chu Wanning had exhausted all his spiritual energy during that battle, causing his spiritual core to shatter instantly. He became no different from an ordinary person, even weaker in body than most.

How could it be fine...

Mo Ran's heart ached. His eyes reddened as he silently draped the cloak Chu Wanning had given him back onto the other's shoulders. Only at this moment could he gently squeeze Chu Wanning's shoulder through the fabric.

All the weight of his love could only be conveyed through this fleeting touch.

He helped Chu Wanning to the side, deliberately choosing a less crowded and quieter spot before sitting down beside him.

Taking advantage of the fact that no one noticed, Mo Ran quietly held Chu Wanning's hand.

It was very cold.

Just like that year when Chu Wanning had fallen beneath his blade, and he had stooped to press his foot against the man's chest, reaching out to grasp his chin. The same chill.

Mo Ran lowered his eyelids, his fingertips trembling slightly.

Chu Wanning had initially wanted to pull his hand away—after all, there were too many eyes watching them here. But sensing that faint tremor, he instead laced their fingers together.

"Let me see," Chu Wanning said, lifting his other hand to ask Mo Ran to lift his face up. There were wounds on his cheeks and nose. "Does it hurt?"

Mo Ran shook his head. He gazed at Chu Wanning's face, at the man who, despite his own lips turning ashen, still cared for him.

He felt a great deal of pain.

Not from the wounds.

But from his heart.

He had finally learned to lie in the style of Chu Wanning. Mo Ran said, "It doesn't hurt."

"Why are you trembling if it doesn't hurt?"

Silent, he couldn't respond, and thus Chu Wanning misunderstood that the shivering was indeed due to pain. A soft emerald radiance swirled around his fingertips, causing Mo Ran's eyes to narrow abruptly as he seized Chu Wanning's hand before it could touch his cheek. "Are you insane? Using spirit energy?!"

"It's nothing much," Chu Wanning replied. "Just a minor healing spell to alleviate the pain."

His fingertip brushed against Mo Ran's scar.

To alleviate the pain.

But his heart was being torn apart, ripped to pieces—such agony couldn't be more excruciating.

Of course, Mo Ran knew it was just a tiny bit of spirit energy, like a grain of sand in the ocean or a drop in an endless sea. Chu Wanning had given almost all his spirit energy to others, leaving only a meager amount for him.

In their previous life, Mo Ran resented Chu Wanning for giving too much to the world and too little to himself.

But back then, he didn't know.

In reality, every bit Chu Wanning gave him, though pitifully small, was all that he had left, the last of what was dear to him.

"Done! It's fixed!"

Suddenly, a cultivator under Master Ma rushed to the entrance, his cheeks flushed with urgency. He cried out, "Hurry up and prepare for retreat! We're closing the gate! Get ready to close it now!"

By then, Mei Hanxue had taken over the defense against the horde of corpses. Xue Meng had withdrawn after sustaining some injuries, but they were minor. He bandaged himself with a piece of cloth, biting the end of the strip as he tied it while watching Mei Hanxue fend off the enemy.

Strangely, Xue Meng recalled that Mei Hanxue possessed water and wood elemental spirit cores. Yet, for some reason, he was using fire-based techniques. Alone, with his Broken Water Lute, his fingers danced, his expression cold, casting blazing fire barriers that repelled the advancing corpses.

"The gate is closing, Mister Mei!"

Mei Hanxue suspended the Wu Konghuqiao in mid-air, stepping back step by step alongside the door. As he reached the entrance, Xue Meng suddenly realized something was amiss. He turned his head and asked, "Can you open the door a bit wider? This lute is too wide to fit –"

"No need."

With a cold and concise response, Mei Hanxue cut off Xue Meng's words, swiftly storing the qin back into its case. Without the suppressive power of the spiritual flames from the music, a horde of zombies surged forward. Noticing that Mei Hanxue wasn't proficient in close combat, Xue Meng's expression changed drastically. He drew Longcheng and rushed out to lend a hand.

Before he could even reach the others, a flash of silver light caught his eye. Somehow, Mei Hanxue now held a silver sword in his hand, its aura sharp enough to sever hair. With the sword dancing in a blur, he retreated, then threw it forcefully just as the door was about to close. Mei Hanxue raised his hand and yelled, "Shuofeng, return!"

The sword transformed into a brilliant ray of light, piercing through the narrow gap. Mei Hanxue abruptly caught it, twirling it elegantly before bringing it back to his side.

The Heavenly Palace gates slammed shut with a thunderous boom.

Dull thuds echoed outside, the sounds of the undead horde and dragon tendons slamming against the doors. However, it sounded as if they were coming from afar. The grand palace gates constructed by the Southern Palace family were not so easily breached.

Everyone heaved a sigh of relief. Several unworldly disciples from the Upper Realm even collapsed to their knees, some even wailing pitifully, "Oh mother... What is happening here..."

Mei Hanxue, who had been covering their retreat, also relaxed slightly. However, his demeanor was no different from usual, and if not for Xue Meng's watchful gaze, one might not have noticed the slight parting of his lips as he breathed out softly.

Suddenly aware of two eerie gazes beside him, Mei Hanxue turned his head. "What? Why are you looking at me?"

Xue Meng's throat felt dry. "Your sword..."

Mei Hanxue glanced at the silver-glowing longsword in his hand. "Northwind."

Xue Meng's expression fluctuated for a while before he spoke. "When did you start using a sword?... No, wait, when did you acquire a divine weapon?"

"I've always had it."

Xue Meng was taken aback. "Then why didn't you use it during the Spirit Mountain Assembly?"

"..." Mei Hanxue fell silent for a moment before responding, "I don't want to use it."

Xue Meng appeared puzzled, even bordering on anger. "Are you looking down on us? If you display your Divine Martial skills, you might just be... the second?"

Mei Hanxue's eyes flickered, a hint of mockery now visible in his usually cold gaze. He gazed at Xue Meng, whose cheeks had flushed slightly from anger, and then said, "Third place is good enough. Being first..." He pressed his lips together, brushed past Xue Meng, and softly whispered in his ear.

"Being first is too foolish."