### Chapter 20: The Purple Demon Gourd
Scorching fire energy pushed all other spiritual energies from the area! The fan's explosion had turned this space into a domain of fire.
With the gourd ensnared in flames, the black qi targeting Zhang Ziyan dwindled—Yan and she scattered the remainder, reducing it to nothingness.
"Daoist Zhang!" Yan惊呼 (jīnghū, 惊呼 - gasped). Before he could move, a figure darted forward, catching the fainting woman.
Zhang Ziyan had strained to stay conscious, her will to survive keeping her upright. Now, with danger easing, she collapsed.
Even unconscious, her cold beauty remained, her breath steadying as she leaned on Lin Yi's shoulder.
"What are you staring at? Go finish that old man!" Lin Yi snapped, flustered under Yan's gaze. *Just letting a beauty borrow a shoulder—no big deal.* He found Yan's reaction baffling.
"Finish him? How? His gourd laughs at artifacts," Yan challenged.
"Ugh, Little Shizong, must you hold a grudge? Use your head! That explosion trapped him. One or two more artifact blasts, and he's dead," Lin Yi snickered, looking sinister.
"No! I've no more artifacts to sacrifice," Yan refused flatly.
"No? Look—he's breaking free! Once he's out, we're dead. Choose: die, or save your artifacts for him?" Lin Yi's tone turned sharp.
Yan glanced at the flaming old man,眉头 furrowed. He glared at Lin Yi. "Meeting you is eight lifetimes of bad luck."
"Haha! Don't flatter me. *I'm* lucky to meet you!" Lin Yi's shamelessness was impenetrable. He ignored Yan's resentment, laughing loudly.
Yan stared coldly, then looked away. In his hand was a circular disc artifact, glowing with dazzling light—undoubtedly top-tier. To survive, to kill the old man, he'd gone all-in. The fan's flames wouldn't last; this was their only chance.
The gaunt old man paled as the disc hurtled toward him. *Another explosion?* Panic clawed at him.
*Top-tier artifacts? Who are these people? Monsters? A fourth-level cultivator with such tools—just to blow up? Do sects hand out high-grade artifacts like candy?*
He'd spent his life acquiring the mid-grade Purple Demon Gourd, treasuring it above life. Beside these disciples, he felt pitiful, insignificant.
A high-grade fan had trapped him. A top-tier disc's explosion would annihilate him. *To die like this… how humiliating!*
"Burst!" Yan shouted. The disc detonated with more fury than the fan, summoning thirteen tornadoes of wind energy. Closer inspection revealed they were composed of invisible wind blades—deadly, whirling death.
"Whoa, that's *nuts*!" Lin Yi's eyes bulged.
The old man bit his tongue, spitting blood onto his spiritual shield. Flames hissed against it; wind blades slammed into it with booming cracks. His face drained of color in seconds.
"D*mn! Why won't that shield break? Little Shizong, one more! Finish him!" Lin Yi yelled, gesturing wildly.
Yan rolled his eyes.
The old man, already injured, couldn't hold back a mouthful of blood at Lin Yi's taunt. His shield flickered, ready to shatter.
The fan's flames dimmed, but the wind tornadoes trapped him, relentless.
"Where's the gourd?" Lin Yi squinted at the twisters. "Don't tell me that thing shredded it too?"
"What are you doing? Let's go! I've had enough raiders," Yan groaned, mourning his top-tier artifact.
"Wait," Lin Yi murmured, never taking his eyes off the storm.
"Wait for what?" Yan frowned, puzzled.
Lin Yi said nothing.
Moments later:
"Now!" His eyes lit up. He tapped his foot, shooting forward. He shoved Zhang Ziyan into Yan's arms. "Hold her."
*Hold her?* Yan seethed. *As if she's yours to order?* Lin Yi's absurdity knew no bounds.
Whoosh!
In a breath, Lin Yi was back, a purple gourd in hand.