World's First Traitor System (387)

Chapter 387 - Call Me Daddy

“Who?!” Yan Shifan’s senses were sharp. He detected a powerful aura approaching rapidly. His keen eyesight quickly discerned the newcomer’s appearance. It was… identical to the woman whose dantian he had just pierced!

Two Qing Qius? He couldn't comprehend it. The approaching aura was terrifying, a high-ranking Great Vehicle cultivator. He was no match for her.

Yan Shifan didn't hesitate. He fled, abandoning Fan Li and the dying Qing Qiu clone. “Damn it! I risked everything for nothing!” He had gained nothing from attacking the clone. As for Fan Li, though easily within his grasp, he had lost interest. Who knew if the same thing would happen again? He fled swiftly, his figure shrinking in the distance.

“I… am here.” Qing Qiu’s original body landed beside Fan Li, kneeling to examine the clone’s wound.

“How is she?” Fan Li asked urgently. “Can you save her?” The clone’s aura was fading, the wound on her abdomen festering with black, foul-smelling energy.

Silence. The worst possible answer. Qing Qiu’s original body looked from the wound to the clone’s face, their gazes locking. Though separate beings, their minds were connected. She understood.

“…I will pursue the enemy.” With those words, she vanished, pursuing Yan Shifan. But he had a head start. She couldn't catch him immediately.

“What’s going on?” Fan Li asked the clone, his mind reeling from the horrific wound. “Why isn’t she saving you? Why aren't you healing yourself?” He only realized halfway through his question that both were Qing Qiu, the same being.

The clone didn’t answer, instead uttering something… unexpected.

“Your arms… they’re comfortable. I want to stay a while longer.”

A sense of foreboding washed over Fan Li. Surely, healing should be her priority?

“My original… she’s always been shy.” The clone’s voice was soft. “I am too. But… it doesn’t matter anymore.” She reached out, her hand gently circling his neck, pulling him down. Their faces drew closer, Fan Li felt her warm breath on his skin. He told himself to focus, to find a way to save her. But his mind and body seemed disconnected, each pursuing its own desires.

Their lips met. Time seemed to stop. When they finally parted, all color had drained from Qing Qiu’s beautiful face.

“I… don’t want to leave you,” she spoke so weak that Fan Li knew the truth. She was dying.

“I mean… I… don’t want to leave you.” She emphasized her individuality, her separate existence.

“I understand,” Fan Li said, nodding.

The clone smiled, a look of contentment on her face, like a flower in full bloom, its beauty revealed without regret. Then, her body began to fade, becoming translucent, like a reflection in water, thin as a cicada’s wing. Finally, she vanished completely, leaving only the lingering warmth of her touch.

…

“Daddy! Daddy!” Yan Shifan’s screams echoed through the Southern Ridge Mountains. He fled, scrambling across the ground, leaping through trees, his movements frantic and desperate. His speed, however, was no match for Qing Qiu’s power.

With a single palm strike, she sent him crashing to the ground, his bones shattered and his body crumpled like a broken doll. He lay in a pool of his own filth, unable to control his bodily functions.

“Daddy! Save me, Daddy!” He shrieked, not begging for mercy, for he knew it would be futile, but crying out for help.

Qing Qiu landed ten paces away. She raised her hand. Another palm strike would end his miserable existence. But the blow never landed.

“Sage Ruler Qing Qiu, please, restrain yourself.” An old manin the crimson robes of a high-ranking Great Ming official, descended from the sky. He was withered and frail, his voice raspy, his eyes cloudy, yet a cunning intelligence gleamed within their depths. He stood before Yan Shifan, holding a jade carving of a mother camel. He had taken Qing Qiu's palm strike, his body protected by a shimmering suit of spiritual armor.

“Hu Zongxian once said that the Great Ming’s Spirit Armor Technique, though lacking in offensive power, offered exceptional defense. When mastered, it could withstand several blows from the Emperor’s Pangu’s Giant Body. Though I haven’t yet mastered it, it seems more than sufficient against an eighth-rank Great Vehicle cultivator.” His voice dripped with confidence and mockery. Qing Qiu, however, remained impassive.

“Daddy! I almost didn’t see you again!” Yan Shifan cried, his relief quickly turning to terror as a cracking sound echoed through the air. Something… had broken. Cracks appeared on Yan Song’s spiritual armor, spreading rapidly. Then, it shattered.

Yan Song coughed up blood, a deep palm print embedded in his chest.

“Daddy!” Yan Shifan’s face paled. He was filled with despair. His father couldn't even withstand a single blow. Were they both about to die?

“Cough…” Yan Song spat out a mouthful of blood and phlegm. “Commander, if you do not act now, I cannot fulfill my promise! If Prince Jing does not ascend the throne, do you believe your Embroidered Uniform Guard will retain its power under Wanli’s rule?”

A tall, imposing figure emerged from the forest. Lu Bing, Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. The woman before him, despite her delicate appearance, was an eighth-rank Great Vehicle cultivator. Yan Song’s favors were costly indeed. But Prince Jing had promised him that, upon becoming Emperor, Lu Bing and the Embroidered Uniform Guard would retain their power. Such a promise was worth any price.

Behind him stood twelve members of the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s elite Thirteen Protectors, each in their distinctive attire, wielding their spirit swords. They were skilled cultivators, masters of formation combat.

“Attack.”

The command, though simple, was a death sentence. Against Qing Qiu, they stood no chance. Yet, they didn't hesitate.

Lu Bing, meanwhile, supported Yan Song with one arm and lifted the reeking Yan Shifan with the other. He turned and fled.