The Aloof Girl Opens the Door of Her Heart Only to Him

Ren Yongnian bowed to the elderly man and the young woman before him and said politely, “I am Ren Yongnian. May I ask your names, fellow Daoists?”
The old man, his left chest wounded, looked at the poised Ren Yongnian and replied slowly, “This old one is called Motu Zhenren, so call me Motu.”
When Motu’s words fell, the pale-green–haired girl beside her spoke softly, “Zuixin.”
Ren Yongnian noticed fresh blood seeping from Motu’s left chest wound and the deep cut on Zuixin’s left hand, and kindly offered, “Do either of you need healing pills? I can give you some free of charge.”
Motu shook his head. “It was merely a brat’s stab. No need.”
Zuixin likewise declined. “An old injury—no trouble needed.”
Their refusals did not deter Ren Yongnian, who invited again, “Would you both be willing to break through the gate with me?” He pointed toward the distant Furry-Demon gate.
Motu and Zuixin glanced at the gate. This time, they did not refuse, but both agreed to Ren Yongnian’s invitation.
At their assent, Ren Yongnian said, “Then let us depart at once. First, let me heal Motu Daoist’s wound.”

But this proposal, too, was refused. Zuixin’s left hand glowed with emerald light as she pressed it against Motu’s left chest, healing him silently. Her intent was clear.
Seeing this, Motu said, “Daoist Ren, no need to concern yourself—Daoist Zuixin is more skilled at healing.”
Ren Yongnian nodded, “Very well. I am not adept at healing; since Daoist Zuixin excels, let her do it.”
After some time, Motu’s wound fully healed. He flexed his limbs and said to Ren Yongnian, “I feel well. Shall we set out now?”
Ren Yongnian lightly nodded, drew his sword, raised it, and proclaimed, “Then, let us depart!”
…
Because Fang Qing plainly disliked negotiation, Zhang Mu handled talks with the cultivators arriving thereafter. Once four people had gathered around Zhang Mu, Fang Qing stepped forward and said, “That’s ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) enough people. Let us depart.”
Before the others could reply, Zhang Mu said, “Since Fairy Fang says so, we need not wait—let us storm the gate.”
With Zhang Mu leading, the other four readily agreed. After a unanimous vote, Fang Qing summoned Wu Qian and advanced slowly toward the gate, the others following, weapons at the ready. Those who had reached this point were hardly weak, so Fang Qing was confident none would slow them. The six advanced in formation—Fang Qing in front, Zhang Mu in the middle, the four behind.
As they neared, the Furry Demons atop the gate took notice. A particularly robust demon roared and alerted its fellows. Its strange cry echoed, met by responses from the demon horde, which fell into formation behind the gate, fists ready, eager to fight. On the high walls, demons grasped ice balls at the size of fists, poised to hurl them at Fang Qing and company at their leader’s command.
They did not wait long. At roughly four hundred meters from the gate, the muscular demon shouted, and the ice balls flew. In an instant, thousands of ice balls blanketed the six, attempting to cover them completely.
Fang Qing did not break stride—her hand still on the blade—and even closed her eyes. Yet, she retained some mercy. She spoke to the group: “Cover me; I will break open the gate.”
At her words, Zhang Mu commanded the others, “Those who can sustain the shield, do so; the rest find some way.”
Two of the four formed half-shields each; together they enveloped all six in a protective barrier. Another drew a bow, loosing arrows to shatter incoming ice balls; the last brandished twin axes, generating curved air currents to do the same.
“Pa! Pa! Pa!” The ice balls struck the shield like rain on banana leaves, sounding crisp and unending. Yet the barrier held firm, without a crack. After one barrage, the six remained unharmed.
At that moment, Fang Qing opened her eyes, which glowed with faint bloodlust. She raised her blade and slowly swung, releasing a slender ribbon of blade qi only a few dozen centimeters thick. Most of the qi was deep black; only the foremost edge glowed blood-red. The blade qi flew toward the gate over three hundred meters away—its slow pace worrying onlookers that it might dissipate. But Fang Qing had gathered energy long and hard; this strike would not falter easily.
Midflight, the black-red qi absorbed wind and snow, growing in heft. Even as the second and third volleys of ice balls rained down, the blade qi had yet to reach the gate. Demons even hurled ice balls at it, but the qi absorbed them as nourishment.
Finally, just as the fourth volley began, the blade qi inched before the gate. “Peng!” A visible shockwave rippled outward, scattering snow and testifying to the qi’s power.
As the snow swirled, before the six stood a gate cleaved in half at waist height—like a giant’s blade had sliced it. A ten-meter chasm split the gate squarely, its demons butchered; crimson blood spattered the ground. Those beyond the gate lay as indistinguishable gore. Even demons farther out were maimed—missing limbs, bodies broken. Some had vanished entirely, blasted into distant corners.
Among the six, silence reigned at the grisly sight. Fang Qing had unleashed abyssal power fused with blood qi that devoured matter to amplify itself, cleaving the stout gate in one blow. Zhang Mu and the others were stunned by such absurd power—one strike to shatter a near-ten-meter gate was surely Nascent Soul level. Now they understood why Fang Qing would not let them approach too closely—any nearer and they’d have shared that fate.
Silently admiring the man lucky enough to travel with Fang Qing—Gu Yuan—Zhang Mu snapped back to attention and shouted, “Full-speed charge!”
At Zhang Mu’s cry, the group rallied and dashed toward the shattered gate. Fang Qing alone did not move immediately.
A thought flickered in her mind: “Mental interference removed.”
Hearing the reminder from her soul spirit, she gave Zhang Mu a brief look and then joined the charge. Zhang Mu, feeling her icy glare, shivered. He did not want to draw her ire—what if she struck him one day? He deliberately lagged behind, staying out of her sight.
Thus, the party effortlessly passed through the gate they had feared would demand a fierce battle, drawing ever closer to the Blue Moon. Fang Qing’s feat likewise benefited cultivators who later arrived—anyone of sufficient strength could now easily force entry through the shattered gate.