Chapter 10: Calling Out for Mom to Survive
Bai Zhou was not angry. She stood up, in no hurry to chase, merely watching the figure nearly vanishing at the end of the alley, her molten gold eyes tracing the slow turn of clock marks. Bai Zhou prayed to the gods above, and what answered was her former self.
Click— A sound like the minute hand ticking echoed through the world, known only to Bai Zhou. In her molten gold pupils, the marks deep within her right eye shifted one notch. In a blink, time across the city slowed by a hundredfold, while she remained unchanged. The little beggar was frozen mid-run, left foot on the ground, right foot just lifting, the blue arcs of electricity on their body solidified into threads of blue light.
The world in her eyes was nearly still, each second consuming an astronomical amount of spiritual energy for the current Bai Zhou. In a flash, she appeared behind the little beggar, a purple glint flickering in her pupils. She saw the aura of fortune above the little beggar’s head.
Boom— A sudden, violent thunderclap erupted above Baihe City. Crack… Like the sound of a mirror shattering, time resumed its normal flow. In a streak of lightning speed, the little beggar dashed another two miles. Bai Zhou looked up at the gathering dark clouds, her disdain unmasked: “This world is so sensitive. Not even a second, and it’s already reacting?” The girl shook her head helplessly. Limited by her Golden Core, her maximum was one second—any longer, and her eyes would roll back, and she’d faint.
In the black mist earlier, she hadn’t seen the little beggar’s face clearly. She had planned to check their fortune and then their appearance, but this world turned out to be overly sensitive. Still, the gain was immense. “Heavens truly favor me. I actually found one.” Her body felt weak, but it didn’t stop Bai Zhou from continuing to track the little beggar.
The thunderclap shattered the tense standoff above Baihe City. Everyone was startled by the sudden thunder, especially Zhang Jingfeng, a Golden Core cultivator, and the sect alliance elders, who felt the terrifying pressure within it. If that thunder struck, it would mean certain death. The thunder came abruptly and vanished just as quickly, its pressure fading, though the dark clouds lingered overhead.
Zhang Jingfeng’s deputy was busy calming the troops shaken by the thunder, while Chen Yangyan scanned the disciples, their faces still pale with lingering fear. Zhang Jingfeng’s earlier words had pricked him like thorns. For sect disciples, reputation belonged to the alliance, but opportunities were personal. If The Record of Qi Guidance truly existed, or if its effects were as he claimed, Zhang Jingfeng wouldn’t have wasted words—he’d have killed them all outright, solving everything in one stroke. He bet Zhang Jingfeng’s words weren’t entirely true. Seizing the chaos in the enemy’s ranks, Chen Yangyan decided to act decisively, amplifying his voice with spiritual energy to blanket Baihe City:
“Fellow cultivators, Zhang Jingfeng is lying! He’s using The Record of Qi Guidance to distract us all, so his men can set up a formation to wipe us out! That thunder was their doing!”
The effect was immediate. “What?! Zhang Jingfeng is that cunning?” “That thunder nearly scared the pss out of me, terrifying as hll!”
Before Zhang Jingfeng could respond, Chen Yangyan fanned the flames: “Fellow cultivators, you all know cultivation defies the heavens. The hardships and struggles are yours alone! Zhang Jingfeng could’ve strengthened his soldiers to attack us directly, yet he pretends to offer surrender. There’s only one reason: The Record of Qi Guidance is fake! He wants to lure you in and kill you!” Taking a deep breath, Chen Yangyan’s momentum surged, his expression fervent: “No one in this world hands you food on a platter! Take down Zhang Jingfeng, seize Baihe City, and when the rare treasure emerges, it’ll come with exotic flowers, fruits, weapons, and artifacts—all ours!”
Seeing the groundwork laid, Chen Yangyan subtly signaled his men. Instantly, the disciple camp erupted in fervor, until one disciple “accidentally” shot a sword qi toward the imperial army. This act thoroughly enraged the soldiers.
“This…” The scene left the scheming sect elders stunned, glaring at Chen Yangyan: “Elder Chen, you’re forcing our hand!” Chen Yangyan scoffed dismissively: “No, look at your disciples. This is the will of the people!”
The elders’ expressions wavered, but once the battle began, it couldn’t be stopped. Reluctantly, they joined the fray. Amid the chaos, the Blood Soul Sect elder signaled his men, and a portion of their disciples quietly slipped away from the battlefield. Chen Yangyan noticed but dismissed it—the Blood Soul Sect’s disciples were negligible in number and unsuited for direct combat, so he let them go.
As the battle erupted, with casualties mounting on both sides, disciples who had considered holding back now fought unrestrained. Sword qi flashed, spiritual energy clashed, and the battle’s shockwaves ravaged the city. Amid the booming, houses collapsed like paper, cobblestone streets were torn apart by stray sword qi, leaving bottomless gashes. People fled their homes crying, stumbling like headless flies through the dust-filled air, unsure where to escape. A sword light slashed down, silently shearing off half a tavern. Wine and blood mingled, flowing through the ruins. The stench of charred flesh, blood, and dust blended into a nauseating odor. Their homes, their lifeline, turned into a slaughterhouse in an instant.
Ling Qingli, like a startled wildcat, darted through collapsing buildings. Relying on her familiarity with the city’s alleys, she desperately dodged the falling shockwaves. Cries, explosions, and the roar of crumbling structures were left behind her. In her panic, she stumbled into a relatively intact dead-end alley, only to freeze in her tracks.
In the alley’s depths, shadows stirred. Several Blood Soul Sect disciples in dark robes surrounded a trembling mortal man. One pressed a palm to the man’s crown, muttering incantations. The man convulsed violently, his face withering visibly as blood streamed from his orifices, coalescing into a sphere that dripped into a floating jade bottle. In moments, a fresh corpse (StatTrak™) was produced.
Ling Qingli’s intrusion halted their actions. Cold, sinister gazes locked onto her. A glint of doubt flashed in the eyes beneath the dark robes, followed by a wicked grin: “Hm? This little brat… I remember now! A few days ago, when we dealt with some disobedient rogue cultivators, it was you, you little rat, who stole from our comrade’s body! That Yin Thunder Rod—how’s it working for you?”
Ling Qingli’s heart stopped. She turned to flee. But a blood-red spiritual chain was faster, coiling around her ankle and yanking her to the ground. “Grab her! We’re short a few, and this little beggar delivered herself!” Another disciple cackled, and before Ling Qingli could react, a massive force slammed into her back. “Pfft!!” Her organs reeled from the elbow strike. She spat blood, flung like a ragdoll, crashing into the alley’s brick wall and sliding down limply. Agony consumed her consciousness; her vision blurred rapidly.
A montage flashed before her… A cold, rainy night in an empty, ruined temple. Other beggars stole the half-rotten bun she’d scavenged. Curled in a corner, freezing and starving, she hugged herself tightly, yearning for the warmth she’d never known, hoping it would somehow appear to save her from this endless cold and hunger…
As her consciousness teetered on the edge of darkness, a pure white light, soft and radiant, stood in stark contrast to the blood and corpses around her. Ling Qingli’s unfocused pupils could no longer make out the figure’s face. But that white, that warm glow… it was so like the mother’s embrace she’d imagined countless times in those cold, hungry nights. With her last ounce of strength, she let out a cry born of life’s deepest instinct: “Mom… I don’t want to die…”
Bai Zhou’s outstretched hand froze in midair. Calling out for mom just to survive? “Who are you?!” The Blood Soul Sect disciples eyed her warily. “I’m her mom.”
Seeing the little beggar on the verge of death, Bai Zhou was about to erase the nuisances when her lazy molten gold eyes widened in astonishment. Ling Qingli’s fading pupils… split apart.