“What exactly is your ability?”

Wen Xingsi, having regained his senses, glared at Zhou Jiuyu, his pupils bloodshot.

“The dead don’t need to know that much.”

Zhou Jiuyu shrugged, showing zero intention of answering.

Before Wen Xingsi could speak, Nan Mengling yanked her sword free from his body. Blood sprayed—then plunged back in violently!

*The Young Master had drilled this into her: always follow up. Never leave even a trace of hope for a comeback.*

“I told you—I’m no Shao Xiuqi for you to slaughter!”

Seeing Nan Mengling prepare another stab, Wen Xingsi unleashed crushing gravity across the street.

The entire block collapsed. Nan Mengling and Zhou Jiuyu plummeted downward.

Wen Xingsi shot them a bitter glance, then vanished toward the Sanctum.

*In City Four, Shao Xiuqi died alone. A Ninth Tier esper could survive a shattered heart… but I’m a Sanctum elder! Only three thousand meters away—I have backup!*

“Don’t think you can escape. Hunted by both the Patrol Division and the Sanctum in City One… nowhere is safe. All that waits for you is endless running. How long can you last? Heh…”

Clutching his chest, wiping blood from his lip, he sneered as his figure faded into the sky.

“Don’t run.”

Nan Mengling slashed horizontally—a sword aura sliced past Wen Xingsi’s shoulder.

“Don’t chase. We leave the city.”

Zhou Jiuyu gripped her arm.

Regret flickered in Nan Mengling’s eyes. *So close to silencing that loudmouth. Next time—faster, sharper, deadlier.*

“Don’t run!”

From the rubble, Sanctum elites still lunged for her.

“How annoying.” Zhou Jiuyu glanced at them. *Your master fled. Why stay?*

Humming—! Blades and spears silently materialized behind them, piercing necks in an instant.

Silence fell over the street.

“Let’s go, Mengling.”

…

Night deepened. Beyond City One, the wilderness lay pitch black—a vast plain dotted with gentle hills.

“Young Master… keep running? This teleportation drains Spirit Energy badly.” Nan Mengling breathed slightly heavily, her fair face flushed with fatigue.

“Drive next. They won’t catch up fast…” Zhou Jiuyu panted too. Altering her ability to carry him consumed Spirit Energy as well. *If I had enough, we’d be hundreds of kilometers away already.*

Whirring—!

Sharp rotor noise cut the air. Zhou Jiuyu looked up—helicopters closing in, a tiny black dot swelling in the sky.

“Damn it! Missiles? Seriously?!” His eye twitched. Curses spilled out.

“No rest. Run.”

Nan Mengling’s gaze wavered, but she grabbed his arm and teleported once more.

He glanced back—the dot still grew.

“Damn… heat-seeking?!”

“Let it blow first.”

With a thought, blades met missile midair. Sparks erupted high above.

But the whirring returned. Distant figures parachuted down—espers launching attacks from afar.

…

Sanctum summit. A sterile white conference room. Four elders sat in silence.

Wen Xingsi zoomed the screen on Zhou Jiuyu’s exhausted face and chuckled low.

“Told you. Nowhere to run.”

A headless figure in a Taoist robe strode in. The elders looked up.

The figure raised a hand, words forming in the air:

“Send another Ninth Tier. I’ve contacted one from the Patrol Division. I owe you this favor.”

Silent glances passed. The Third Elder rose. “I’ll go.”

“Just remember, Sword God—the Sanctum’s effort today.”

“I will.”

…

Plains. Relentless flight.

After shredding seven or eight helicopters, pursuit eased—temporarily.

But satellites tracked them. A tracking-type esper locked their location. Disguises wouldn’t last. Enemy espers were slower, but missiles rained down in bursts.

“Finally…”

Zhou Jiuyu squeezed Nan Mengling’s hand, gazing at City Two’s skyscrapers. *Can’t stay in City One. Can’t hide in wilderness. Cities are safer—no missiles here.*

“Young Master… I… can’t… not a drop… left…” Nan Mengling slumped, utterly spent.

Dawn tinged the horizon. They’d fled from night to day, exhaustion etched deep.

“They won’t close fast now. Rest.”

He pulled her delicate frame against his chest. Seeing her pale, weary face, he bit his lip. *No choice. No time for her to recover.*

…

Hotel room. Peace at last.

Nan Mengling, once sweet-scented, was now streaked with blood and dust. Her white dress grimy. Sticky and tired, she slipped naked into the tub.

“Young Master…”

“What?”

“Come bathe with me. I can’t see you… I’m scared.”

*Another flirtatious trick from this maidservant?* Zhou Jiuyu would’ve refused—normally. But after a pause, he opened the door.

He’d seen her before. Yet her jade-smooth skin, fair rosy curves, sheer allure still stirred him.

His cheeks flushed. He sank into the warm water beside her. Tension melted away.

Then he opened his eyes.

Nan Mengling stared down, gaze locked on him.

“Young Master… want to… relax a little?”