The forest floor was starting to feel like a second home—or a glorified obstacle course with bonus venom.
Two hours in, Jia Wei Xin's team had hit every checkpoint, outmaneuvered a territorial vine serpent, collected four spirit herbs, and was now officially in first place.
Which, as it turned out, was the worst possible thing.
Because at exactly the two-hour mark, a divine voice boomed through the Winding Spirit Forest like a melodramatic announcer at a martial arts tournament.
"Current leaders: Team Twelve. Led by Jia Wei Xin. Outstanding synergy. Highest score so far."
Jia Wei Xin stopped mid-step, eyes twitching. "…Did that voice just say my name out loud?"
Yan Ping squeaked. "W-we're first?!"
Mei Lan beamed. "Wow! They must be tracking us with formation sensors and merit auras!"
Jia Wei Xin groaned. "Wonderful. The elders basically painted a target on our backs and added glitter."
Chang Dian clapped her on the shoulder, grinning. "Smile! You're famous now."
"I swear, if I survive this, I'm going to burn the Elders' announcement orb" she muttered, marching forward. "Let's just keep moving before someone throws a celebratory ambush."
---
Unfortunately, she wasn't wrong.
Wan Sing watched from a perch above the trees, his eyes narrowed as he listened to the announcement echo through the air.
"She's in first?" he muttered, the name Jia Wei Xin hanging off his tongue like something sour.
He was handsome in a princely sort of way—if one liked poisoned wine and premeditated backstabbing. His teammates surrounded him, all cloaked and silent.
He had no particular vendetta against her. Not originally.
But she had become... inconvenient.
Too smart. Too quick. Too visible.
"This is our chance," he said. "Jia Wei Xin and her team are good—but not invincible. I've studied their movements. We separate her and that loud-mouthed scout, take them both out, and the rest will collapse."
---
The trap was subtle—almost elegant.
A hidden illusion formation disguised as a natural glade. Jia Wei Xin and Chang Dian were lured in first, following what looked like a rare golden-lotus herb.
The moment they stepped in, the path behind them sealed off with a wall of shifting mist.
"Don't like this," Chang Dian muttered, blades in hand. "This smells like sabotage."
Before Jia Wei Xin could respond, a burst of force split the ground between them.
"Chang Dian—!" she shouted.
"I'm fine!" he yelled, trying to push through the crackling barrier. "Stay put!"
But they were already too far.
---
A shadow stepped out from the mist.
Wan Sing.
He stepped from the mist with calm, polished precision, every inch the elegant predator.
"Jia Wei Xin," he said smoothly, as if greeting her at a formal banquet. "We meet alone at last."
Her sword was already out. "That's your idea of an entrance?"
"I've been waiting for the right moment," he said, circling her slowly. "Your team's impressive. But you… you shine."
"Flattery from someone who ambushes girls in the woods. Romantic."
He tsked, a sound of feigned disappointment. "You really shouldn't be so stubborn. If you submit—pledge loyalty to me—I'll make sure you walk out of here unharmed. Think of the power we could wield together."
"And if I say no?"
His smile tightened, the pleasant facade cracking. "It's a shame then..."
He struck without warning, his movements fluid and deadly.
Their swords clashed, the sharp ring of steel echoing in the quiet woods.
The first few moves were manageable—but it quickly became clear that Wan Sing was several levels above her. He fought with brutal efficiency, every strike designed to corner her, to wear her down. There was a cruel enjoyment in his eyes as he pressed his advantage.
Jia Wei Xin blocked, dodged, feinted, rolled, her movements becoming increasingly desperate.
Her shoulder was slashed, a searing pain shooting down her arm. Her thigh bruised from a deflected blow that nearly sent her sprawling. Her Qi flared, a desperate attempt to push back his relentless assault, but she was barely holding on, each parry costing her more strength.
Still—a flicker of defiance remained.
She saw a gap in his defense, a momentary lapse in his brutal rhythm.
A tiny, reckless window.
And she took it.
With a shout fueled by adrenaline and sheer willpower, she lunged, her blade finding its mark, sinking into his shoulder.
Wan Sing staggered back, a look of disbelief washing over his face as blood blossomed across his pristine robes. He stared at the wound, almost surprised that she, a mere woman in his eyes, had managed to land a blow.
Then his expression twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. The surprise morphed into a furious scowl. "You little bitch," he snarled, his voice laced with venom. "Fine. If I can't own you—then I'll break you."
He reached into his sleeve and flicked a small vial at her with vicious intent.
She instinctively tried to block, raising her injured arm, but the vial burst against her forearm, shattering into tiny shards. The viscous liquid hissed against her skin, a burning sensation spreading rapidly.
Her limbs froze, the venom coursing through her veins like icy fire.
Spiritroot venom. Pure and potent.
She gasped, her breath catching in her throat, her Qi sputtering and dying within her. Helplessness washed over her as her sword clattered to the ground.
"I didn't want it to come to this," Wan Sing murmured, his chest heaving with anger, circling her like a wolf closing in on its crippled prey. His eyes, once filled with a calculating desire, now burned with a furious lust for domination. "I respected your talent. I admired your defiance. It would've been… amusing to tame you."
His gaze lingered on her face, a cruel smile twisting his lips. Then his eyes dropped, his hand reaching out, his fingers brushing the delicate clasp of her outer robe.
"But if I can't have you willingly—" his voice dropped to a guttural whisper, his eyes blazing with a possessive fury, "then I'll take what I want."
---
Jia Wei Xin bit her lip, her vision swimming with black spots. The venom was taking hold, and Wan Sing's touch felt like a violation even before it truly happened.
No. Not like this.
With a surge of adrenaline born of pure desperation, her fingers fumbled inside her sleeve, brushing against the smooth jade.
The talisman.
Ling Mo Feng's talisman. The weight of it in her palm was a fragile thread of hope in the encroaching darkness. With a final, desperate surge of strength, she crushed the jade in her hand.
---
The talisman burned white-hot.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then—
The sky tore open.
A blade of moonlight cleaved through the mist and slammed into Wan Sing with the force of a divine judgment. He hit a tree with a sickening crunch, crumpling to the ground.
The forest held its breath.
A figure dropped from the heavens, robes billowing, sword gleaming like frozen starlight.
Liu Mo Fei.
Gone was the lazy smirk. Gone was the flirty teasing.
His eyes were cold. Dangerous. Lethal.
He looked at Wan Sing as if he were already dead.
His hand flicked.
The mist exploded outward.
Wan Sing barely had time to block before Liu Mo Fei's aura slammed into him like a crashing tide. Wan Sing was thrown into the barrier wall, coughing blood.
"You," he said softly, "are not allowed to touch her."
Wan Sing's teammates, watching from the formation perimeter, turned and ran like rabbits from a dragon, bringing Wan Sing with them.
They didn't look back.
---
But Liu Mo Fei didn't chase them.
He knelt by Jia Wei Xin, his hands trembling as they hovered over her face, her pulse, her wounds. He gently touched the slash on her shoulder, his expression darkening.
"You idiot," he whispered. "Why didn't you call me sooner?"
She managed a weak grin. "Didn't want to interrupt your beauty sleep."
His fingers twitched. His grip tightened around her wrist.
"You think this is funny?"
And then—
He pulled her into his arms.
"I'm here now," he said quietly. "I've got you."
Her head fell against his shoulder, his qi flowing into her, steadying her spirit, easing and clearing the venom. She could feel it—the warmth, the protection.
The anchor.
"You were worried," she murmured, half-conscious.
"I still am." His arms tightened around her.
"They're coming," he murmured, his eyes flicking towards the rustling leaves in the trees. "Your team. They cannot know of my… direct involvement. It would cause too many… complications." He gave her a swift, almost imperceptible wink, a fleeting shadow of his usual self.
Then, with a faint shimmer of moonlight that seemed to linger for a moment before dissipating, Liu Mo Fei vanished, leaving her alone once more in the quiet forest.
---
Later, as the mist began to thin and dissipate, her team finally found her.
Mei Lan rushed to her side, tears welling in her eyes. Chang Dian, his initial worry etched on his face, shot a fierce glare at the retreating backs of Wan Sing's team members, a silent promise of retribution. Luo Han simply let out a long, shaky sigh of relief.
But Jia Wei Xin, leaning against a tree trunk, was already pushing herself to sit upright, her face pale but determined. She was tired, every muscle in her body screamed in protest, and the lingering effects of the venom left her weak, but she was alive.
Barely.
Yet something in her qi shifted—subtle, radiant.
She could feel it.
All the battles: the beasts, Hua Lian, Wan Sing—They had pushed her past her limit.
And now—Something inside her cracked open like sunlight through clouds.
She was leveling up.
Slowly.
Surely.
And this time… entirely on her own, fueled by her own resilience, despite the unexpected intervention.