One Hundred and Ten.

I flicked my wrist, sending the glowing shard rushing toward Ru Xian.

I wasn't aiming to hurt her. Not yet. If she was still alive in there, more exposure to the Yang might force whatever was possessing her to let go.

The shard was inches away from her when—

"Finally…"

Her head snapped up.

Bloodshot eyes, veins crawling across her face like ink spreading through paper. A twisted grin stretched across her lips.

She raised her hand.

The whip shot into her grip.

SNAP!

SHATTER!

"WHAT?!"

One strike—one single strike—and the shard I sent flying exploded into fragments.

The Yang I had poured into it? Gone. Vanished like smoke.

Above us, the main shard trembled. The broken pieces floated back, merging into it like nothing had happened.