[ZHUILING] More Than Enough

Chapter 10

     "One-hundred and fifty fierce corpses were slain." Jingyi gasped for air. "I feel like an old man after killing so many."

"That was expected." Sizhui gasped for air as well. Blood of the fierce corpses had burned at his mourning clothes—which were stained with disgusting liquids. Exhaustion had strived in his stomach, with an acidic tiredness grumbling his senses. "We should get back to Jin Ling." Sizhui stated.

     "But the distance is so far, all the way back in Lanling Jin." Jingyi groaned.

     "No, not at all." Wei Ying chuckled. "I agree with Sizhui. We should get back to the little troublemaker as soon as possible."

Sizhui nodded, unsheathing his sword and mounting it with ease. Wei Ying rode with Lan Zhan, while Jingyi mounted his own. Before they could fly off, a familiar voice had blurted, "may we accompany you all as well?" Xichen smiled, but he wasn't the only one on his sword. All the other hundreds of young cultivators had mounted their swords, with the hem of their robes all torn from the earlier battle. "To Lanling Jin." They had all cheered.

"Of course." Wei Ying smirked, while his husband wore a solemn expression.

     The cultivators had all flew to the night sky, with darkness shrouding around them like an obedient silhouette. Hope had grew in Sizhui, but all that light had withered when a clogging stench had unearthed itself from the forest.

Wei Ying swore, "I wasn't sarcastic when I said 'it's not like he will burn down an entire forest'..."

Indeed, the clogging smell was the scent of smoke—and a small section of fire was intensively burning in the forest. How did this happen? Concern had overflowed within Sizhui. Is Jin Ling okay? He'll be alright, right? I mean, he made it clear that he was strong enough to take care of himself, or did I hear him wrong?

Sizhui's heart ached as he thought of plenty possibilities resulting in Jin Ling's escape or worse... death.

*****

     "Don't move," Huang Li ordered. "Or else my aunt won't hesitate to kill you."

     Jin Ling wanted to respond with a 'you do realize I'm a cultivator, right?' but swallowed back the comment before it could leak out of his mouth. He felt no fear at all towards the fierce corpse before him. In fact, a sense of disappointment had welled up inside. "Okay, I won't move." Jin Ling taunted.

The Young Mistress knew it'd be easy to unsheathe his sword and cut Huang Li's aunt to death within a second. But something kept on preventing him from doing so.

"Do you practice demonic cultivation like the Yiling Patriarch?" Jin Ling scowled.

Huang Li had shaken his head. "No, I don't cultivate."

Jin Ling wanted to point out the difference between demonic cultivation and cultivation, but kept his mouth shut. "Instead," Huang Li smiled. "It's all about what my aunt wants."

"Her wish?" Jin Ling asked.

Every fierce corpse has a wish—otherwise they wouldn't need the resentful energy to go berserk. "I suppose you can say that." Huang Li patted the oil-soaked hair of his aunt, as the fierce corpse stared deadly into Jin Ling's eyes. "All she ever wanted was to protect me, so I guess she came back alive to grant that wish."

Jin Ling tensed up at the word 'protect'. He wished his uncle would've been as protective as Huang Li's aunt. If only then would he forgive everyone easily.