Chou's death was just too swift, too sudden.

The sight of the plant spirit's lifeless little body sprawled on the ground was incomprehensible to Li Meirong.

His death had come so suddenly and unexpectedly that she could barely even begin to digest what had just happened. Only a few seconds ago, his high-pitched voice and pouty lips had been directed at her. Chou's creeping vines had hovered beautifully in the air, like ropes tumbling down from the heavens. And then, suddenly, without warning, he had dropped dead!

She couldn't believe he died. She refused to believe he died.

Hot tears slowly trailed down Li Meirong's cheeks, dripping from her chin and falling like gentle rain, soaking Chou's dark curls.

She felt utterly useless. Her slowly built confidence shattered in an instant. All the years of accumulating strength meant nothing in the end. It meant nothing if she couldn't even take care of the one friend that stayed by her side from the very beginning.

The truth was, that she was just like everybody else had said, a failure. She once again turned into the same useless and lonely girl, who could do nothing but suffer each blow life threw her way.

Li Meirong could do nothing but stare at the Chou's blood-drained face and weep.

She roughly shook him by his narrow shoulders, as if to force him to respond to her. But the pitcher plant spirit flailed limply in her arms, a reaction to the gesture and nothing more.

Chou couldn't be dead, not so soon. Not so easily. He couldn't possibly be dead - she still tried to deny it.

There had been no fatal blow, nor any hidden move. All she'd seen was that damned pixie tapping her tiny fingers on her stupidly small flute!

So much for making sure that nobody would be harmed! So much for wishing to make friends with her opponent…

There was no measure accurate enough to describe how deeply she regretted her previous decision - to consider this battle nothing more than a friendly match. Like the fool she was, her pathetic heart had been swayed by Senior Wei's courteous behavior and lofty reputation.

The hidden desire to be accepted by her peers, which had lurked in the small corner of Li Meirong's heart, had clouded her judgment until the damage had been done. And it had not been her who had suffered, but her little Chou...

On the grounds of a battlefield there was no place for compassion or understanding. The arena was no different.

Li Meirong's eyes were bloodshot now from her tears, her slender frame trembled like a fallen leaf tossed about in the breeze. A sense of desperation was consuming her, fueling her need to somehow avenge Chou's senseless death.

She really wanted to kill Senior Wei and shred his pixie into tiny pieces right before his eyes!

"What have you done?" Li Meirong finally found her voice, forced out between ragged breaths. She quivered with despair. "What have you done to my plant spirit?!"

Bitterness welled up inside her, almost choking her up before it could fall from her lips.

Her question was not met with an answer.

In fact, there was no sound of any sort to be heard.

She looked up to demand an explanation, but was met with an empty stage and a dark, suffocating silence.

Senior Wei and his pixie had vanished. The audience in the arena's stands had disappeared without a trace. The entire island had become barren of any living entity except Li Meirong, and the corpse in her arms.

She sat in the middle of the stage at a complete loss. Her only company was the corpse of the plant spirit that lay dead across her lap.

Chou's damp black hair brushed across her thighs, the shift of it resembling seaweed dancing along the ocean's surface. She caressed his head softly, brushing her fingers through his murky curls.

She wasn't entirely sure what was happening, but sitting here and crying over her stupid decision to participate in this tournament wouldn't bring the dead back to life. So what if Zhu Qingyue had urged her to join? So what if the lunatic Grandmaster had threatened to strip her bare of all her cultivation? What was the point in becoming strong if she lost everyone who mattered to her in the process?

Initially, she hadn't wanted any part of this. She wanted nothing to do with fighting. She wasn't certain what part of her had changed, or what exactly had changed her mind about training for this event. What had made her become excited at the prospect of rising in the ranks to become a formidable force in this sect? All she knew now was that it all left the bitter taste of regret in her mouth.

She bent down to kiss Chou gently on the forehead.

"I will avenge you, I promise," she murmured, and then sent his lifeless corpse back into her dimension.

She was now alone in the darkness, without a single soul in sight.

As Li Meirong slowly rose to her feet once more, she suddenly noticed from the corner of her eye a tall, shadowed figure approach from afar.

The figure emerged from the shadows and broke through the array as easily as a hot knife sliced through butter.

The silhouette of a man gradually became more visible, framed by loose pale hair fluttering in the breeze. He walked towards her slowly, yet with infinite confidence in his bearing.

Li Meirong ran towards the man as soon as the bewitching contours of his face came into the light, the familiarity of his features buoying her flagging spirits. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely.

"Zhu Qingyue!"

"I am here perhaps a tad too late, it seems," he murmured in her ear, having bent down slightly to accept her embrace. His large palms rested upon her waist, as unyielding as a pair of shackles.

Zhu Qingyue's low, soothing voice helped Li Meirong relearn how to breathe. The knowledge that she had someone to depend on, that he was by her side during her time of need, filled her heart with endless warmth.

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A/N; Thank you for all the support! It means a lot! Since there has been such a long hiatus with AMAFG's updates, the novel fell off the ranking and is no longer receiving any sort of exposure. If you could support this story by offering powerstones, or sharing it out on social media, Moon would be most grateful! ɾ⚈▿⚈ɹ