Xiang Haikui flattered him: “Senior, I don’t understand what you’re saying. Being with you feels comfortable, how could I be afraid?”
Yin Changli nodded: “How comfortable?”
“It’s like…” Xiang Haikui was searching for adjectives when she suddenly realized—was he unexpectedly making suggestive remarks?
She had thought with his scholarly appearance, he was a cultured person, but he turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing?
Xiang Haikui quickly stepped back, truly frightened now.
Yin Changli raised an eyebrow: “Remember what I said, the person inside is tough on the outside but soft on the inside. Later, try to appear as pitiful as possible.”
“Yes, yes, yes.” Xiang Haikui agreed.
As they continued forward, Yin Changli waved his sleeve, and all those eyes retreated from the holes in the rock walls.
The passageway was almost at its end, and Xiang Haikui could already see that a person was imprisoned at the end.
He appeared quite young in features, but his hair and beard were completely white and disheveled, his clothes equally tattered.
His shoulder blades, both wrists, and both ankles were pierced by iron hooks, with electrified chains connecting the hooks to the mountain wall.
The scene somewhat resembled that in “The Deer and the Cauldron,” where Aobai, after being subdued, was chained in prison by Emperor Kangxi.
It carried a sense of tragic heroism of a fallen champion.
Could this be the sword mentor that the great Yin found for her?
It must be. The closer they got to him, the more violently the Heaven Fury Sword trembled in the scabbard on her back.
Heaven Fury was excited.
“Lord Qi.” Yin Changli stopped without going too close, slightly cupping his hands in greeting.
The Tuntun Shu at his feet balanced a wine jar on its head. Though the jar was still sealed, the fragrance of the wine permeated the air.
Perhaps tempted by the aroma, Qi Yin, who was bound by the chains, slowly lifted his eyelids: “You haven’t been caught yet?”
Yin Changli smiled: “If I were caught, who would bring you wine?”
Qi Yin smiled coldly: “Besides wine, you always bring trouble.”
Yin Changli continued smiling: “This time it’s not trouble. I’ve brought you a disciple…”
He seemed to be communicating through sound transmission. After a while, Qi Yin’s gaze shifted from Yin Changli’s face to Xiang Haikui’s.
His gaze was sharp as a sword edge, yet his eyes were clear and pure. Meeting his gaze was like falling into a pristine lake.
Xiang Haikui was entranced and only came back to her senses after a while. She quickly averted her eyes. Damn, was this the world of the powerful? Even a mere glance carried so much weight.
She knelt and paid her respects: “Junior Xiang Haikui greets Senior Qi.”
Yin Changli asked: “How is it? Her mental state is not bad, right?”
Qi Yin shook his head: “What use is mental state? She has no spirit root, no sword bone; she’s just an ordinary person—completely unsuitable material for sword cultivation.”
Yin Changli smiled gently: “It’s precisely because of the difficulty that Changli has brought her to the Sword Emperor Qi.”
“Stop giving me titles.” Qi Yin was immune to his sweet talk, completely unmoved. “This is simply an impossible task. One hundred days to initiate her? You might as well kill me…”
As soon as he said this, his pupils contracted: “Heaven Fury? Heaven Fury has awakened?”
Yin Changli’s smile deepened: “So, a hundred days is enough, right?”
Qi Yin ignored him and looked at Xiang Haikui: “He’s been talking endlessly. Is it he who’s taking a master, or you?”
“Junior…”
Just as Xiang Haikui was about to speak, Qi Yin continued: “Now, give me one reason to convince me.”
On the way here, Yin Changli had anticipated this question.
Xiang Haikui had thought about it the entire journey and prepared various persuasive speeches. But at this crucial moment, she discarded all her preparations and answered with just five words: “Junior doesn’t want to die.”
Doesn’t want to die.
And cannot die.
Revenge and other such things were too distant; she had no energy to resent the injustice of the world.
Her current goal was simply to survive.
During her father’s two to three years of seclusion, no matter how difficult, she had to hold on, absolutely could not die.
Qi Yin’s eyebrows slightly furrowed. In his lifetime, he had heard countless answers, and this was truly the most spineless one.
Yet by his ear, he seemed to hear the sound of a tree seed breaking through the soil—fragile, tiny, yet immeasurable.
After a moment, Qi Yin suddenly laughed like a madman: “Good! Yin Changli, this disciple you’ve brought, I, Qi, accept! Within a hundred days, I shall completely transform her!”
At the edge of the Central Plains, in Yin Sha City.
Outside the formation plate stood a man in a sleek black robe with delicate features—this was Xiang Haikui’s father, Xiang Heng.
Sitting on the formation plate was a man with short, tousled hair and deep-set features—this was Xiang Haikui’s senior from university, Jing Ran.
In the modern world, he had only been missing for a few days, but in Yin Sha City, he had already stayed for quite some time.
“Young man, I’m truly sorry.” Xiang Heng apologetically cupped his hands, expressing his regret once more. “I’ll send you back now.”