Chapter 129: THE MISSION WAS TREACHEROUS FROM THE BEGINNING

Gu Jun’s hands were trembling so violently that he could scarcely maintain his grip on Li Yan’s slender fingers.

The color had drained from his face until it was as pale as snow on a winter morning. In his chest, his heart hammered against his ribs like a mad beast attempting to claw its way free.

Seeing Li Yan lying so motionlessly upon the jade bed—his usually radiant, jade-like countenance drained of vitality, his ink-black lashes casting dark shadows over hollow cheeks—Gu Jun felt as if a sharp dagger had been plunged straight into his soul and twisted three times.

Almost died?

Those two words echoed inside Gu Jun’s mind like continuous claps of heavenly thunder, shattering his composure into fine dust.

He was like an ant on a hot pan, utterly frantic, his large frame bent over the edge of the bed as he inspected every inch of Li Yan with frantic, bloodshot eyes. "Yanyan, tell me... please, don’t scare me like this! What mission did they give you? Who dared to lay a hand on you? Was it that bastard Li Wei again, or did someone from the Inner Sect plot against you?! Speak to me, I’m begging you!"

Li Yan had originally intended to keep his face cold and give this foolish follower a thorough scare so that he would engrave this lesson into his bones. He wanted Gu Jun to remember never to vanish without a trace again.

Yet, looking at Gu Jun’s eyes—which were already reddened to the point of spilling tears, filled with pure, unadulterated anguish and self-reproach—Li Yan found himself between tears and laughter.

This fool, Li Yan sighed inwardly, the lingering frost in his chest melting into helpless warmth. If I frighten him any further, his dao heart might truly crumble on the spot.

Li Yan let out a long, shallow breath. His fingers, still cold to the touch, shifted slightly within Gu Jun’s broad, calloused palms, lightly tapping against his knuckle.

"Sit properly," Li Yan commanded softly, his voice still hoarse and carrying a faint rasp, but no longer laced with ice. "Look at you. You are a tall, grown man, yet you look as though the heavens have collapsed and the earth has split open. Do you think I am already breathing my last and waiting for you to prepare my funeral shroud?"

Hearing Li Yan’s familiar sharp tongue, Gu Jun choked on his breath. He hurriedly sat down on the edge of the low wooden stool, not daring to let go of Li Yan’s hand for even half a second, as if releasing it would cause the person in front of him to turn into smoke and vanish into thin air.

"Don’t speak of funerals! Spit that out, spit that out right now!" Gu Jun pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "You are blessed by heaven and earth; you will live for ten thousand years! How could you talk about dying?!"

"Then stop howling like a stray dog," Li Yan chided lightly, though his gaze softened considerably. He leaned back against the silk pillow, feeling the dull, throbbing exhaustion that still lingered deep within his meridians.

He knew he could not reveal the existence of the timeless mythical space, the ancient Phoenix bloodline, or the fact that Fan Jian was a divine sentient blade. Those were heaven-defying secrets that would bring disaster upon the entire sect if leaked. But regarding the perils of the mission, there was no need to hide the external details.

Li Yan stared toward the ceiling beams and began speaking in a slow, steady cadence. "The day after you disappeared, Elder Mo gathered the disciples. A special mission had been issued by the sect, and through Master’s recommendation, I was placed into the second team. We were sent to the mountain range of Baidun."

"Baidun?" Gu Jun’s thick brows furrowed instantly. "Isn’t that the northern border? That place is frozen year-round, covered in glaciers and violent spirit winds. What kind of beast could the sect possibly send a newly admitted outer disciple to hunt in such an environment?"

"A Rank Nine demonic lizard," Li Yan said flatly.

Clang!

It was as if an invisible bell had rung directly inside Gu Jun’s ears. His jaw went slack, his eyes widening to the size of brass bells. He froze so completely that even his breathing ceased for several heartbeats.

"A... a Rank Nine demonic beast?!" Gu Jun’s voice rose an octave before he remembered Fu Hanzheng’s warning to keep quiet, forcing him to drop his tone into a fierce, suffocated hiss. "Are the elders mad?! Have they lost their minds?! A Rank Nine demonic beast possesses strength comparable to a late-stage Golden Core or even a nascent soul-level existence! Even the elder hall would need to dispatch several inner sect protectors to subdue such a monster! How could they send you?!"

"I was not the only one," Li Yan explained calmly, though the memory of the freezing cavern and the acidic venom made a flicker of coldness pass through his phoenix eyes. "Senior Brother Li Hanye and Senior Sister Meng Jiali were the vanguards. There were eight other inner disciples."

"Even with Senior Brother Li and Senior Sister Meng, that is pure madness!" Gu Jun’s chest heaved violently, his fists clenching so hard that his knuckles turned white as bone. "You have only just entered the sect! Your cultivation foundation is still tender! How could they let you face such a monstrosity?!"

"The mission was treacherous from the beginning," Li Yan continued, his tone devoid of fear, carrying only the quiet, chilling indifference of someone who had already lived through a brutal bloodbath. "When we arrived at the Heaven’s Path exit, our horses had already been slaughtered and butchered by rival disciples. We traveled on foot through the snow. When we reached the summit, we didn’t just face one lizard. There were two Rank Nine demonic beasts—a mated pair—along with hundreds of juvenile hatchlings pouring out of the nest like a tide."

Gu Jun sucked in a sharp breath of cold air, feeling a chill run straight from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. Hundreds of demonic hatchlings!

"The mountain was drowning in venomous miasma," Li Yan whispered, lowering his gaze toward his covered arm. Beneath the loose sleeve of his robe, the blackened, withered skin of his wrist remained carefully concealed.