The sky behind the young woman darkened. Clouds curdled into storm. Wind and thunder erupted around Su Yan, lashing rain cutting visibility to nothing.
"I'll kill you!" Her voice cut through the tempest.
Her palm strike transformed mid-flight—clear skies becoming crushing storm, the power magnifying beyond anything Su Yan had faced. This wasn't mere technique. This was true spiritual art, the power to reshape heaven itself.
"Misunderstanding! I never left the summit!" Su Yan backpedaled, palms raised in the Dragon-Serpent twin form from the Eight Yuan Tones.
Dragon and serpent energies collided with the storm. Su Yan's qi cultivation exceeded hers, but her physical power was monstrous—pure, overwhelming bodily force that sent him flying backward.
*She's stronger than me. Seven, when I die, you're carrying my head to the magistrate for the bounty!*
The storm cleared. She stood beneath a canopy of stars, though the sun still shone above. "You didn't peep? Then how did you know about my—my—" She flushed crimson. "Even my mother doesn't know!"
Stars wheeled around her, gathering for another strike. Su Yan channeled the Yang Tone. Pure yang qi surged through his meridians. Their fists met. Her qi scattered. His arm went numb, muscles cramping.
*A girl, this strong? Purer than the Vajra Body technique!*
Her surroundings shifted again—green wilderness, rotating sky, the world itself becoming her weapon. Su Yan's cultivation advantage dissolved against her environmental manipulation.
"You're not Cangwu Sect. Their arts are crude. Who are you?"
Su Yan retreated up the paulownia tree, channeling the True Cultivation of the Ba Serpent to disperse her force. Above her, moon rose from a silver horizon, then sun exploded from below. Twin celestial bodies pressed down, choking his qi and blood.
*A secret paradise within her body, granting superhuman strength.*
Su Yan stopped retreating. He visualized Mount Jiuyi itself—immovable, eternal. His stance shifted. He became the mountain.
One peak, immobile. Eight peaks guarding. Ten thousand mountains paying homage.
His palm descended. Her star-sky shattered. Moon crumbled. Sun split, true fire scattering.
She gasped, feeling endless mountains crushing down. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. She leaped, a ladder of clouds manifesting beneath her feet. Step after step, she ascended into the heavens, voice drifting down:
"Peeping tom! I'll tell the Empress! You'll be castrated and sent to the palace! Auntie! Auntie! Someone peeped at me bathing!"
A voice answered from above: "Really? Don't worry, little Xiao Die. We'll have Eunuch Chen fix him."
Another voice: "Xiao Die, come here. Let me introduce you to Young Master Yuan of the Yuan family..."
Su Yan's face went purple. "Yuan Qi! If our family lines end, it's your fault!"
Yuan Qi mumbled, "The bell said..."
"I spoke through divine consciousness. No outsider heard." The bell paused. "A-Yan, you've opened the Mud Pill paradise. Even if castrated, you'd grow it back."
Su Yan wasn't taking chances.
He looked up at the cloud-ladder technique. *Veyon said the Yuan family's Cloud-Ladder Sky-Leap is the finest flight art. Is this it?*
Screams echoed from above. Bodies fell from the paulownia tree, shattered on impact.
"Don't try to catch the phoenix! The divine birds are killing people!"
Su Yan climbed quietly. The paulownia branches were broad as roads, flowers trumpet-shaped and massive. Cultivators sat inside them, sketching distant divine birds. One creature caught his attention—two necks, four wings, two heads, ancient baleful aura radiating from its plumage.
"Divine beasts carry Dao-forms," the bell said. "Like Yuan Qi, their ancient bloodlines are awakening. The phoenix summoned them to serve as guardians."
Su Yan spotted Veyon and Elder Xiao nearby, but the plump girl—Xiao Die—stood with them, alongside a beautiful woman and a handsome young man. He turned and climbed the opposite direction.
Veyon noticed his absence. "Why isn't Su Yan coming over?"
Elder Xiao whispered, "Best not to intervene, young master."
"I'm not planning to intervene. I'm marveling at how quickly he accumulates new enemies."
Higher up, the divine birds grew more numerous, more hostile. Dead Cangwu disciples hung from broken branches like grotesque ornaments. Su Yan stopped.
"Something's wrong," the bell warned. "Too many guardian birds, and they lack intelligence—they only know protection. If the phoenix had time, she'd awaken their minds. The fact that she hasn't means the threat is overwhelming. She's gathering every bird she can, choosing the most defensible position."
Su Yan understood. *This summit will become a battlefield.*
"Retreat. We want no part of this."
A melodious voice spoke in his mind: "It was you. You rode the wind to me. I beg your assistance."
Su Yan looked up. Between layers of leaves and flowers, the fledgling phoenix perched on a high branch, turning its head to regard him with ancient, intelligent eyes.
"I can't even protect myself. Farewell."
He turned to descend. The voice followed, soft as memory:
"Three thousand years ago, when I first hatched, I saw you."
Su Yan froze on the branch. Slowly, he turned back.
"Your face," the phoenix said. "It has never changed."