The Devil is My White Moonlight

“Kill him! Kill him!” yelled the enraged audience, encircling a high platform.
Shouts were heard wave after waves. 

This was Linmo Yuan, the juncture between the human and demon world.

There was a slight smell of blood lingering in the air just after a great war, which heightened people’s emotions.
The majority of those gathered around the platform were Moyun Mountain disciples, and their humble and exquisite white robes pricked the eyes whenever reflected under the strong sunlight.
A man on the stage was covered in blood.
His wrists were firmly tied to his back by an immortal rope, yet his torso was straight despite kneeling on the floor.
His bun was loose, and his piercing eyes searched the crowd through the few strands of long hair that hung in front of his face.

“Gu Qingqiao, do you admit to your crime?” questioned a middle-aged man sitting at the head, who was dressed in a white Moyun Taoist robe embroidered with golden clouds patterns, symbolizing the head of the Moyun Mountain.

The kneeling young man only sneered and didn’t answer, making the surrounding spectators under the stage to become all the more excited. 

“What else is there to say? He was caught red handed killing an elder, the proof is clear!” “He killed an elder at a crucial point in the struggle between the immortals and the demons, he is unquestionably a traitor!” 

Suddenly they noticed someone approaching from a distance with a sword in hand.
The uproar subsided, and the crowd parted like tides in the surf, allowing the figure to pass.

Step by step, the handsome young man in white with a long sword approached the high platform.
“Isn’t that Mu Xiyun? Wasn’t he on the southern section of the battlefield?”  someone whispered amongst the crowd.
“Well, he is a disciple of Tianliang Peak,” another sighed, “he must have hurried over after receiving the news of his master’s death.”

“Is he going to kill the traitor with his own hands?” The audience became lively again.
Mu Xiyun stood on the stage, unsheathed his long sword and pointed it directly at Gu Qingqiao’s chest.

He had just returned from a great distance with his sword after a grueling battle.
His face was pallid, and fine beads of sweat were gathering on his brow.

Despite this, the hand holding the blade did not shake in the least, and his face was icy.
He locked his gaze on the kneeling man’s eyes.
For a moment, they just stared at each other. 

“Why?” He asked.
Gu Qingqiao merely closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, he suddenly smiled.

“Ah Yun…” Just as he was about to say something, his countenance abruptly turned pale.
The whole person curled like a ball on the ground as if he was dealt with a heavy blow on the stomach.  

“What is that?” Shouts were heard from the crowd below.

Wisps of black qi quickly rose from Gu Qingqiao’s body, covering his whole person within a few breaths.
Mu Xiyun subconsciously took a step back.
However, as he retreated, Gu Qingqiao suddenly sprang off the ground.
His arms had already broken free from the immortal rope, and a shining machete in his left hand slashed through the black qi, creating afterimages as he aimed for Mu Xiyun’s throat.