无题

**"The moment the Lightning Chains tore through the clouds, violet-gold electricity descended like divine judgment. Su Yinghan’s wrists erupted in agony as the chains bit into his flesh, a muffled groan escaping his bloodless lips, crimson rapidly staining his white robes. Lin Jinxuan’s enraged roar, shattering the sword formation, crashed into his ears amid the howling wind—a voice laced with near-maddened killing intent, yet fracturing the instant it took in his bloodied face. Memories from a decade ago surged: under similarly blinding lightning, the Xuanqing Sect’s eighteen white jade steps had been slick with rain as Lin Jinxuan, dragged by chains, plummeted into the abyss—while Su Yinghan’s feet remained rooted, as if nailed by a Demon-Slaying Seal.**

*'Pavilion Master! Beware!'* A Netherworld Pavilion assassin’s warning sliced through the chaos. Su Yinghan forced his head up. Within the crimson mist, Lin Jinxuan’s sword-wielding figure resembled a blood-soaked deity. His dark iron armor splintered, revealing three savage claw marks spanning from left shoulder to waist—wounds from the Netherworld’s guardian hellhounds, endured at age twelve to protect him. Now, falling talisman fragments illuminated the turmoil in Lin Jinxuan’s eyes—a secret once theirs alone, now twisted into 'proof' of his demonic nature.

Elder Xuanqing’s silver-threaded whisk abruptly lashed toward Su Yinghan, its shriek scattering crows: *'Act now! Or have you forgotten the Demon-Slaying Seal upon you?'* The sigil on his forearm seared, as if countless needles burrowed through his veins. Su Yinghan’s grip on the flute turned knuckle-white. Memories of the Netherworld branch siege three years ago flashed: the shattered light in Lin Jinxuan’s pupils when the jade flute pierced his chest; the droplet—blood or tear—that had stained the snow as he walked away.

Lin Jinxuan’s blade pressed against Elder Xuanqing’s throat, a blood bead trembling at its edge. Yet it halted half an inch from skin. *'Old fool,'* he rasped, *'you accused me of harboring the Netherworld’s remnant soul. Dare you repeat it to my face?'* Su Yinghan glimpsed the hidden obsidian scroll-case in his master’s sleeve—a Tianji Pavilion missive.

The whisk suddenly coiled toward Lin Jinxuan’s back. Su Yinghan instinctively blocked with his flute, the impact numbing his arm. *'Traitor!'* The elder’s roar merged with Lin Jinxuan’s shout as the Seal’s pain crested. Su Yinghan staggered—only to collapse into arms that smelled of iron and aged sandalwood, a scent that conjured shared childhood nights listening to storms.

*'Don’t touch him!'* Lin Jinxuan’s fury sent disciples reeling. Crimson mist solidified around him, each strike desperate. But Su Yinghan clutched his collar, whispering, *'The Pearl… secret…'* Blood dripped onto the ghost-pattern over Lin Jinxuan’s heart—and the mark writhed, forming an arcane array.

Netherworld assassins activated the Nine Netherblood Formation, black blood coalescing into a spectral face. Lin Jinxuan glared at Elder Xuanqing. *'Three days. The Blood Moon. Nethervalley.'* His gaze lingered on the scroll-case. Even as he retreated, he shielded Su Yinghan’s body, though his back was flayed by enchanted blades.

Only when his last armor piece fell did Lin Jinxuan notice the flute embedded in his shoulder—venom seeping from it. *'Fool,'* he murmured, yanking it free. Blood bloomed on Su Yinghan’s snow-white hair like plum blossoms. He recalled a snowy night, wine between them, Su Yinghan joking, *'If I ever burden you, kill me with this flute.'*

Below the cliff,正道’s forces gathered. Lin Jinxuan tore his hem to bandage Su Yinghan’s scarred wrists—the deepest wound his own doing. As spatial rift opened, a faint breath grazed his neck, bitter with poison. The touch choked him. A decade ago, he’d thought this warmth lost forever; now, he carried his would-be killer into deeper schemes.

On the bloodstained cliff, Elder Xuanqing unrolled the sweat-damp scroll. Tianji Pavilion’s message glowed: *'The Pearl’s vessel must die.—Decree 37.'* He smirked, blood dripping onto his jade token.

Meanwhile, in Nethervalley’s depths, an altar hummed with ancient chants. Twelve blood pillars flickered with a sealed demon-god’s shadow. As Lin Jinxuan crossed the boundary, the Netherblood Pearl erupted in light, painting the valley hell-red—while on Su Yinghan’s neck, a crimson thread slithered toward his heart..."