Chapter 332: The burning flame, White Blaze
This novel is translated and hosted only on Bcatranslation.
When the news was announced, it caused an uproar in the Five Elements Dao Sect.
The disciples were deeply divided.
Some suspected Master Qing Yan of intentionally shifting the blame to Ye Cong Xin to protect Su Ming and Quan Ye. Others firmly believed in the sect’s integrity, convinced that it wouldn’t shield wrongdoers or fabricate evidence for immoral disciples.
Regardless of whether they believed it or not, one fact was undeniable:
Master Qing Yan was no longer seen as flawless.
If Ye Cong Xin’s identity was indeed questionable, then as her master, how could he have been completely unaware? And if it was false, then he had failed in his duties to discipline his disciples, resulting in internal strife.
In any case, he was unavoidably linked to the matter.
Thus, Master Qing Yan fell from his pedestal.
From then on, the disciples of the sect no longer held him in blind reverence. They also began distancing themselves from the disciples of Lone Moon Peak, fearing they might suddenly lose control and harm others. However, Fang Cheng Lang and Cui Jue, rarely leaving Lone Moon Peak, remained unaware of the changing attitudes.
Su Ming, however, couldn’t sit still.
After being ostracized once again, he felt wronged but had no one to confide in upon returning to Lone Moon Peak.
The eldest senior brother and fourth senior brother were behind closed doors. The second senior brother, still resentful over Ye Cong Xin’s death, refused to even look at him. As for the fifth senior brother, Su Ming didn’t even consider going to him. Quan Ye’s single-minded nature would likely lead to mockery rather than comfort.
In such a vast sect, Su Ming realized he had no one to share his feelings with.
Eyes red and teary, he unknowingly wandered to where Yu Zhao once lived.
Staring at the empty cave dwelling, he murmured softly, “Little Zhao, where are you? I miss you…”
“Senior Sister Yu, why did you stop?” asked Ji Han Zhou, catching up to the suddenly motionless Yu Zhao, his curiosity evident.
With a peculiar expression, Yu Zhao reached into her right sleeve with her left hand.
To Ji Han Zhou’s surprise, and Silence’s quiet intrigue, she pulled out a tiny snake no larger than a palm.
Its sleek, white scales shimmered like jade, covering its slender body. Its crimson eyes gleamed with an unusual brightness as it hung upside down, flicking its red tongue. In a moment, it coiled around Yu Zhao’s wrist, its cool scales sending a chill through her skin.
“Where did this little snake come from?” Ji Han Zhou asked, tempted to touch the pristine white creature. As he extended his hand, the snake darted under Yu Zhao’s arm, evading him.
Forced to withdraw his hand, Ji Han Zhou continued to observe the snake with curiosity.
Yu Zhao was equally puzzled. She’d found the snake curled up in her sleeve but had no idea how long it had been there or when it had appeared. Still, she sensed no malice from the creature. On the contrary, it seemed inexplicably close to her, so she didn’t mind its presence. However, she couldn’t help but wonder where it had come from.
“It’s destined to be with you,” said Silence, turning his prayer beads.
Having progressed to a new stage of his Silent Meditation, Silence was now limited to speaking only eighteen words a day. Breaking this limit would reset his progress, requiring him to restart the practice. Having already failed on their first meeting, he was now exceptionally cautious, speaking only in succinct phrases.
Delighted by the snake’s company, Yu Zhao softly asked, “Would you like to stay with me?”
The snake flicked its tongue and even nodded its triangular head.
Amused, Yu Zhao chuckled.
“Then from today, you’ll be with me. Let’s give you a name…”
“It’s white and small; how about ‘Little White’?” suggested Ji Han Zhou.
Both Yu Zhao and Silence immediately shot him disapproving looks.
Frowning, Ji Han Zhou muttered, “Isn’t it a good name? How about ‘Big White’? ‘Little Snow’? ‘Big Snow’?”
Silence twirled another bead. “Junior Brother Ji, has no one told you how terrible your naming skills are?”
Flustered, Ji Han Zhou silently cursed the eighteen-bead limit, feeling it was far too lenient.
After some thought, Yu Zhao recalled the White Peacock Clan from Spirit Mountain and had an idea. “You’ll be called White Blaze.”
“Which ‘Blaze’?”
Initially, she intended the name to reference a serpent, but upon seeing the snake’s fiery eyes, she corrected herself. “The ‘Blaze’ of burning flames.”
“White Blaze? It has a nice ring to it,” remarked Ji Han Zhou, nodding in approval.
The snake seemed content with its new name, officially becoming White Blaze.
Feeling a responsibility to care for it, Yu Zhao began offering food from her storage pouch. Yet White Blaze seemed uninterested. Puzzled, Yu Zhao emptied an assortment of items, letting it choose.
With a hiss, White Blaze abruptly appeared next to a medium-grade spirit stone. It took a swift bite, leaving a small dent on the otherwise solid surface.
Crunch… Crunch…
Amidst the sound of chewing, White Blaze devoured the entire stone before moving onto more, eating until its belly bulged. Finally satisfied, it slithered to Yu Zhao, licked her affectionately, and coiled around her wrist to sleep.
Silence gave Yu Zhao a meaningful look.
“This isn’t a little snake—it’s a gold-devouring beast.”
Yu Zhao nodded in agreement. Yet thinking of her wealth, she regained confidence.
The more White Blaze ate, the stronger it would become. When it matured, it would undoubtedly be a powerful ally.
Brushing aside her concerns, she urged her companions onward.
Meanwhile, Spirit Mountain was in chaos.
“Still no sign? How could you lose something as large as the Fu Xi? Is there anything you can do right?” roared Bai Ling, his fury nearly shaking the rafters.
The celebration for the Fu Xi had barely ended when it disappeared. If word got out, the White Peacock Clan of Spirit Mountain would be ridiculed by all demonkind.
More importantly, the Fu Xi represented hope for the demon race’s prosperity. Any harm befalling it would spell disaster for their future.
Having awaited this hope for decades, Bai Ling couldn’t bear the thought of it slipping away.
Eyes red with guilt, Bai Mei stood silently, drowning in self-reproach. She had been entrusted with the Fu Xi’s care and had failed.
“Chief, I will find the Fu Xi, even if it costs me my life!”
“What good is your life? I want the Fu Xi!” bellowed Bai Ling, his voice echoing through the mountain.
[Table of Content]
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation