Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Demoness of the Liao Family

Little White leaped nimbly from Jiang Yao’s arms, its momentum unbroken, nearly plunging straight into the sea. Yet just as its front paws were about to touch the water, Jiang Yao reached out and, with a motion as swift as thought, caught Little White by the back, leaving it stranded between advance and retreat before she drew it back into her embrace.

Curled up unwillingly in her arms, Little White gazed up at Jiang Yao with a look full of grievance, but no matter how forlorn it acted, Jiang Yao remained unmoved.

Qin Yi, his eyes on the horizon where a line of black dots was slowly resolving into a fleet of ships, remarked with curiosity, “I wonder which family’s fleet would mount such a grand display, and what on earth could be aboard that even a spirit creature like Little White finds so enticing?”

“In the South Sea, who else but the three great families could field such a fleet?” Zhang Chen replied, his gaze drifting to the restless Little White in Jiang Yao’s arms. After a moment’s thought, he added something that nearly made Qin Yi want to kick him. “Maybe there’s a giant carrot on board?”

Little White shot Zhang Chen a sidelong glance, the very picture of disdain, as if even looking at him too long might be contagious.

“Is it some kind of spirit beast now?” Zhang Chen, affronted, fumed at this display; had Little White not been nestled in Jiang Yao’s arms, he might have started a fight with this spirit creature, born of heaven and earth and already possessing the powers of transformation.

“It’s the combined fleet of all three great families,” Jiang Yao said coolly, her eyes still on the sea.

At her words, Qin Yi and Zhang Chen looked out to see that, indeed, at the fleet’s center three enormous banners snapped in the wind.

To the left, a white banner bore a single black character: Chen.

In the center, a blue banner with another black character: Qian.

To the right, a gray banner, marked with a black character: He.

There was no doubt now—this was the joint fleet of the three families.

Qin Yi eyed the vast array of ships and wondered aloud, “I’m truly curious what cargo could warrant such a massive military escort.”

He’d noticed that most of the people aboard were cultivators. There were few of the highest-ranked, but more than a few at the level of transformation, not to mention many at the four foundational stages. Only a handful of delicate women and sailors, who clearly served other purposes on the ships, were exceptions.

Jiang Yao, watching the scene while keeping the now-restless Little White firmly in her grasp, said, “I suspect this has something to do with the demon clans.”

Qin Yi and Zhang Chen looked at Little White in Jiang Yao’s arms and instantly understood.

Qin Yi casually picked up a stone and, half-bending, hurled it over the water. Whether due to his lack of skill or the stone’s uncooperativeness, it skipped only once before sinking.

Brushing off his hands, Qin Yi turned to leave. “Let’s go. None of this concerns us. We’d best head to my grandfather’s house, pay our New Year’s respects, and then return to Dragonfish Fort.”

Hearing this, Zhang Chen and Jiang Yao made no objection and turned to leave as well.

But Little White, as if understanding Jiang Yao’s words, began to struggle fiercely. Jiang Yao, however, showed it no mercy, holding it securely, leaving Little White utterly dejected.

The trio left the seaside for the pier, intending to ask for directions to the He family’s residence. At that moment, the gigantic fleet was also docking, and the wharf was instantly plunged into shadow.

Suddenly, the sharp rhythm of galloping hooves echoed across the pier, drawing the gaze of the townsfolk who had gathered to see the fleet. A shrill, imperious voice rang out, “Make way! Out of the way, you rabble—clear the road for me!”

From the city’s broadest avenue leading to the wharf, a troop of mounted riders swept through as if the street were utterly theirs, splitting the crowd like a scythe through a field of rice. Anyone, whether intentionally or not, who stood in their way was ruthlessly lashed to the ground by the leader—a tall woman in crimson armor astride a black horse, wielding a blood-red whip and cutting a figure reminiscent of a warrior general.

Cries of pain erupted. “The Liao family witch is here! Run for your lives!”

Qin Yi found the commotion tiresome but paid it no mind, focusing instead on confirming directions. “Uncle, is this the right way?”

But while Qin Yi could ignore the chaos, his elderly guide could not. The old man, anxious not to mislead him, repeated with concern, “Young man, do you know the way now?”

Qin Yi smiled. “I do. Thank you for your trouble.”

“Not at all, not at all,” the old man replied, hurrying away.

As Qin Yi watched him go and prepared to turn away, his eyes suddenly flashed cold, and the sword at his waist quivered violently.

The mounted troop had drawn close, and at their head, the so-called Liao family witch raised her bloody whip, aiming a blow at the very old man who had just helped Qin Yi. The old man, flustered by the cavalry’s arrival, had tried to avoid them but only stumbled into their path. Helpless, he could only brace himself for the lash, fearing that after this stroke he would be trampled beneath their hooves.

But just as the whip was about to strike his face, a streak of white light flashed through the air. In the next instant, the whip was sliced in two.

The tall black horse reared in fright, nearly unseating its rider.

The onlookers could scarcely believe their eyes—a flying sword! Was an immortal present today to punish the Liao family witch at last?

The broken half of the bloody whip fell across the old man’s face, making him shudder, though he noticed with surprise that the blow had been feather-light. Had the witch gone soft on him, or simply tired of lashing people?

He opened his eyes in curiosity to see a white gleam slicing through the sky, and the Liao woman’s face contorted with murderous fury. He staggered back in fright.

With her whip severed, the sword flew back to its scabbard. The crowd, seeing this, hurriedly gave Qin Yi and his companions a wide berth, leaving only the three of them, two horses—one white, one red—and Little White, still nestled in Jiang Yao’s arms.

The Liao woman, clutching half a whip and finally calming her black steed, glared at Qin Yi and his friends. “Do you know who I am?” she demanded.

Qin Yi ignored her, instead helping the old man to his feet. “Are you all right, sir?”

Realizing his rescuer was the same young man he’d guided, and that he was now the focus of the Liao woman’s wrath, the old man urged, “Young man, you must run! She is the Liao family witch, Liao Ruiting.”

“Liao family? Never heard of it,” Qin Yi replied with a smile.

The old man shook his head and sighed. “In recent years, the Liao family has risen to prominence here in the South Sea. Not only did the Qian family’s eldest daughter marry into their house, but their own daughter has been promised to the eldest son of the He family.”

Qin Yi was surprised. So the Liao family really had become a rising force in the region.

The old man, lowering his voice, added, “This woman is the daughter of the Qian family’s eldest, and the future mistress of the He family.”

“Don’t worry about me, sir. You should go,” Qin Yi said, and the old man, seeing persuasion useless, left quietly.

Liao Ruiting’s gaze grew colder as she watched Qin Yi rescue the old man before her very eyes. She despised his handsome, striking appearance and the way he radiated an intimidating sharpness—so much more impressive than her feckless fiancé. But she hated Jiang Yao even more—standing there, serene and motionless with a white rabbit in her arms, her beauty and poise drawing every eye at the pier. That should have been her place, for whatever reason.

In the next instant, Liao Ruiting brandished the half-whip and barked, “Kill them!”

Her followers surged forward, but before they could take a step, a red flash shot from Jiang Yao’s waist—a sword aura that struck the cavalry like a thunderclap, sending them sprawling across the stone pavement in a chaotic heap, like a wild, discordant melody plucked from a pipa.

Cries and confusion erupted—but no one dared approach them again.