In the fantasy world, all the people I met were beauties.

In the backyard of Moxiang Study, the winter plum blossoms are in full bloom.

The tiny petals fluttered down in the night wind and landed on the bluestone slabs, contrasting with the black tights of the Dark Hall disciples and the green long skirts of the Qingshuang senior sisters, exuding a bit of sad and gentle beauty in the twilight.

The moment Lin Shuang pushed open the wooden door to the backyard, Yu Linglong's gaze was drawn to the leading woman in green as if by a magnet.

The man held the Falling Frost Sword in his hand, and the ice-patterned jade pendant dangling from the sword tassel was the token of trust she had tied for Senior Sister Qingwei herself back then.

Even the half-broken jade hairpin in her hair was an old item that she had broken off while playing around in her youth and forced on her senior sister.

"Senior Sister Qing... Qingwei?" Yu Linglong's voice trembled, and the hilt of the Qingshuang Sword turned white from being gripped by her.

The woman in green suddenly looked up when she heard that, and the ink brush she was grinding fell into the inkstone with a "pop", and the ink splashed on her white cuffs.

The scar on her face, which stretched from her brow to the corner of her mouth, twitched violently, as if burned by memories. "Linglong... is that you?"

Yu Kexin suddenly rushed out from behind Yu Linglong, and the Frost Sword at her waist slammed onto the bluestone slab. The girl threw herself into Lin Qingwei's arms, her shoulders shaking with tears:

"Uncle Qingwei! What's with that scar on your face?"

Qingwei hugged her tightly, tears sliding down the hideous scar and dripping onto Yu Kexin's tight clothes:

"They were from the Fiery Flame Sect... I was being hunted down that year and couldn't dodge their swords."

"Senior Sister!" At this time, Yu Linglong also rushed forward with the Qingshuang Sword in her hand, tears streaming down her face.

Lin Qingwei's body froze, the sword in her hand fell to the ground with a clang. She turned around and hugged her tightly, her voice choking with sobs, almost dying:

"Linglong... You're still alive! How wonderful..."

The other nine senior sisters also gathered around, and the eleven Qingshuang disciples hugged each other under the cold plum tree, their crying echoing in the courtyard.

When the Dark Hall disciples patrolling outside the courtyard heard the noise, they couldn't help but stop and look at the figures hugging each other in the courtyard, their eyes full of emotion - who is not someone who carries a blood feud and struggles to survive in troubled times?

Yu Kexin had cried enough and stood back beside Li Zimo. With red eyes, she tugged at his sleeve and said, "Master, I have finally found my sisters."

Li Zimo nodded and glanced at the ten senior sisters: Although they changed into the black clothes of the Dark Palace, they could not hide the unique sword temperament of the Qingshuang Sword Sect, especially Lin Qingwei. The aura of the ninth level of martial spirit around her was calm and restrained. It was obvious that she had never neglected her cultivation in the Dark Palace all these years.

Lin Shuang stepped forward and softly interrupted the sentimental reunion, "Senior sisters, please don't get too lost in yourself. The Palace Master has already issued an order. If you find any former members of the Qingshuang Sword Sect, you will be invited to officially join the Dark Palace and fight against the three major sects together."

Lin Qingwei let go of Yu Linglong, wiped away her tears, and bent down to pick up the Falling Frost Sword. "The ten of us sisters have been on the run for years. If it weren't for the Dark Palace taking us in, we would have been killed by the Blazing Flame Sect long ago. Now that Linglong is back, the Blue Frost Sword Sect has a legacy. Naturally, we're willing to join the Dark Palace and avenge our sect! But everything depends on Linglong's opinion."

Yu Linglong held Lin Qingwei's hand, her fingertips icy cold, and asked anxiously, "Don't worry about joining the Dark Palace yet. Senior Sister, when our sect was destroyed, what happened to my parents... and my other brothers?"

Lin Qingwei's eyes dimmed instantly, and her voice dropped to a whisper. "The Sect Master and his wife were killed by the sword of the Lieyan Sect's elders while trying to protect the disciples' escape. The rest of the disciples...most of them died in battle at Qingshuang Pass, with only a few escaping. All these years have passed, and there's still no news of them."

"What about Kexin's parents?" Yu Linglong asked again, her eyes falling on Yu Kexin who was trying hard to hold back her tears.

Lin Qingwei sighed, her voice filled with regret. "Kexin's parents were responsible for covering the retreat back then. They fought to the death with the disciples of the Golden Thunder Sect at Qingshuang Pass, and in the end... not even their bodies were found."

Yu Kexin couldn't hold back her tears at last, but she bit her lips tightly and didn't cry out loud. She just reached out and tightly grasped the Frost Sword at her waist - that was the only relic left by her parents, and the ice patterns on the scabbard had long been rubbed by her until they were shiny.

Li Zimo walked forward, took a cup of hot tea from the maid, and handed it to Yu Kexin, saying softly, "Kexin, please accept my condolences. Within three days, we will avenge them and make the Fiery Flame Sect and the Golden Thunder Sect pay for their blood debt with blood."

He was just about to go forward to support Yu Linglong when a shrill whistle suddenly came from outside the courtyard wall, so sharp that it seemed to cut through the night sky.

Lin Shuang's expression suddenly changed, and he suddenly drew the short blade from his waist: "It's the Dark Palace's sentry! The people from the Flame Sect have discovered this place!"

"Just in time." A flash of green light flashed from Li Zimo's sleeve. He turned to look at Zhao Feiyan, who was still standing there, stunned and with her mouth open. He raised his eyebrows and smiled, "Little Feiyan, do you want to see how a Martial King-level fight is fought?"

Zhao Feiyan was startled by his gaze, her chest heaving violently like a frightened quail, and she couldn't even finish her words: "Senior... I, I..."

“Woo——”

The sharp sound of the whistle pierced the night sky, and the tranquility of the daytime instantly faded from the Moxiang Study.

The members of the Dark Hall quickly emerged from hidden corners behind bookshelves and beside screens, their movements as swift as a civet cat: someone blew out the candle, plunging the courtyard into darkness;

Someone stuffed files and defense maps into a special secret compartment;

There were also people holding weapons and guarding the gate and the wall, staring sharply into the night.

Lin Qingwei pulled Yu Kexin behind him. The scar from her brow to the corner of her mouth was pale in the moonlight, and the veins on her hand holding the hilt of the sword were bulging.

"At least three large groups of enemies have arrived, led by Elder Fentian's direct disciples. Their strength should not be underestimated."

Li Zimo stood under the century-old plum tree in the yard, twisting a half-withered petal with his fingertips.

The petals quietly transformed into a wisp of green flame in his palm, burning silently and then slowly dissipating.

"Five Martial Kings and one Martial Emperor are barely enough for practice." He turned to look at Zhao Feiyan, who was huddled behind the pillars, a faint smile on his lips. "Little Feiyan, why are you shaking so violently?"

Zhao Feiyan hugged the red-painted column tightly, and her black tights outlined her tense figure.

"Fen, Elder Fentian's disciples are ruthless..." Her voice trembled, her almond-shaped eyes filled with fear, "Last time, the South City Branch was raided by them, and the disciples suffered heavy casualties..."

Before he could finish his words, a deafening explosion was heard from outside the city. The entire study shook and the plum branches in the courtyard dropped petals.

Yu Linglong's figure flashed across the courtyard wall like a green lightning. The moment the Qingshuang Sword was unsheathed, three cold lights flashed, and three martial artists from the Lieyan Sect fell to the ground, holding their throats, and their blood dyed the bluestone slabs red.

Her green skirt fluttered like a butterfly, and where the sword passed, a trail of crystal frost condensed on the ground.

"Yu Linglong of the Qingshuang Sword Sect is here!" She shouted, then with a backhanded strike of her sword, slashed through the incoming fire python. The remaining force of her sword pushed the two enemies back several steps. "Today, I will avenge our sect's blood debt!"

Yu Kexin's attack became more fierce.

The girl held the Frost Sword in her hand and moved flexibly among the enemy formations. Every time she swung the sword, it brought up a fierce ice crystal storm.

A powerful martial spirit warrior had just condensed a flame armor when she froze him into an ice sculpture with the wind from her sword. Then she pushed him lightly and the ice sculpture shattered into pieces.

"Aunt, leave me some opponents!" Her clear voice pierced through the melee, but her eyes were cold and stern, which was inconsistent with her age.