“Shen... Xiu... Han...”
Before his voice even faded, Hou Yulin shuddered all over as if ice water had been poured over him from head to toe. Almost instinctively, his knees buckled, and he fell to the ground with a thud.
“Core Disciple Shen! Young Master Shen! Spare my life, spare my life!”
Hou Yulin was pale as a ghost. Kowtowing like garlic pounding in a mortar, his forehead struck the ground with loud thuds. Within a few hits, he was bleeding, and he shrieked in a rapid-fire torrent:
“I was momentarily possessed! I am willing to compensate you tenfold—no, a hundredfold! All the wealth I've accumulated over the years, I will offer it all to you, Young Master! Please show mercy and spare my life...”
Shen Xiuhan said nothing, watching him with an indifferent gaze.
Cold sweat poured down Hou Yulin's back, soaking his clothes. He knew all too well what this silence meant.
He wants to kill me! No matter what I say, I won't survive today!
With that thought, Hou Yulin gritted his teeth. His True Qi erupted violently, and he launched himself upward. Without looking back, he scrambled desperately toward the courtyard wall, shouting as he ran:
“Help—”
Swish!
A soft sound rang out. It was extremely soft, extremely brief, like a passing breeze.
Hou Yulin's shriek cut off abruptly.
His body stiffened instantly. Stumbling forward two steps, he lowered his head to look at his chest.
A slender dark shadow had pierced through his back, penetrating his chest and leaving an inch-long tip protruding. It was a willow branch with a tender white end, looking as though it had just been casually plucked.
“Ugh... ah...”
Hou Yulin's eyes bulged, and a broken, wheezing sound squeezed from his throat. He wanted to turn around but had no strength left.
And so, as if his bones had been removed, he collapsed limply. After a couple of twitches, he went completely still.
In his wide-open eyes, fear and disbelief still lingered. Even in death, he could not understand how his secret hiding place had been exposed.
Shen Xiuhan slowly retracted his hand, walked forward, and efficiently searched the body.
Soon, he fished out a bulging coin purse and a thick stack of banknotes. With a quick count, it was at least five or six hundred taels.
Shen Xiuhan casually put them into his storage bag. With a leap, he soared over the rooftops like a night owl. After a few bounds, he vanished into the depths of the long alleyways.
...
In the northern suburbs, the battle had only raged for half the time it took to drink a cup of tea, yet it had already reached a boiling point.
“Hah!” Lai Zong bellowed like thunder, bringing his long saber down in a vertical slash.
The fierce, peerless blade momentum was like a silver ribbon, forcefully slicing through the formless, bizarre soundwaves.
His dark eyes flashed like lightning, piercing toward the figure holding the instrument dozens of yards away.
Liu Sanxian plucked the strings, and the ghostly sound rang out once more.
Every string on that Ghost Pipa was crafted from the tanned tendons of an expert at the Great Perfection of the Anjin Rank.
As the strings vibrated, insidious soundwaves sliced through the air. Sounding like ghostly wails or wolf howls, they pierced directly into one's ears, disrupting the mind.
Although this method was obscure and tricky to defend against, Lai Zong's saber technique had inherited the true teachings of the Zhenhai Marquis Mansion. With grand, sweeping movements, he established a steady rhythm, firmly pinning Liu Sanxian down.
To the east, the two women had fought to a fever pitch.
Kan Qingluo had three more whip welts on her body, and blood seeped faintly from the tears in her robes. Yet, the eyes behind her veil grew colder and sharper.
Letting out sharp cries, she pushed her 《Great Derivation Qingyuan Sword》 to its absolute limit.
The sword-light fell like a waterfall, each strike faster than the last.
The Entangling Silk Fiend, Hua Ying, was no amateur either.
Although Kan Qingluo's blade forced her into perilous situations and left several cuts on her body, the nine-foot-nine-inch soft whip in her hand did not falter in the slightest.
Layer upon layer of whip shadows filled the air. Wrapping, twisting, lashing, and thrusting, she fought Kan Qingluo to a standstill, neither gaining the upper hand.
To the south, the tide of battle was becoming clear.
Ke Duhe struck out with a palm!
A grayish-white palm print surged forward like a tide, pressing down on Gu Dacheng with a heavy aura of death.
Relying on his superior cultivation, he pushed his movement techniques to their limits, darting around like a flying old bat. Every time he closed in, he unleashed a torrential rain of gold coin darts.
Within moments, he had Gu Dacheng thoroughly suppressed.
Although Gu Dacheng was at the late-stage Huajin Rank and wielded his tempered iron spear with the full force of the Kaiyang Academy's spear techniques—with lightning and fire crackling along his spear-glow—the difference between each sub-realm after the Huajin Rank was as vast as heaven and earth!
Fighting across sub-realms was virtually impossible.
Yet Gu Dacheng did not panic. He only needed to stall these people here; once the experts of the prefecture capital's clans noticed the commotion, they would surely rush to reinforce him.
Moreover, he had already sent men to notify the nearby Huo and Liu clans.
Only to the west was the situation dire. Zeng Qiyuan of Bixia Villa was in grave danger against the Chess Fiend, Zhongli Mo.
Zhongli Mo ranked third among the Nine Fiends. His cultivation had reached the mid-stage Huajin Rank many years ago, and he was only half a step away from the Spirit Tempering Rank.
He wielded a black iron chessboard as his weapon, with three hundred and sixty-one black and white chess pieces arranged in accordance with the cosmic constellations.
Each chess piece shot out like a falling star, weaving an airtight, murderous net.
Zeng Qiyuan had only entered the Huajin Rank a month ago. His foundation was shallow, and his aura was unstable. How could he match such a ferocious foe?
In less than the time it took to drink a cup of tea, he was forced into a corner, coughing up blood repeatedly.
Bang! Another burst of blood erupted from his chest. Zeng Qiyuan groaned and stumbled backward.
The purple True Qi in his dantian surged rapidly, wrapping around the black chess piece embedded in his flesh and forcibly expelling it.
The black piece hit the ground, spinning on the bluestone slab with a sharp sizzle. The stone was actually corroded black!
Zeng Qiyuan's face was pale. Staring at the calm figure opposite him, his vigilance reached its absolute peak.
This man is ruthless. The black and white chess pieces from his board not only fly in tricky, unpredictable trajectories, but they are also coated in two entirely different, lethal poisons.
If my Purple Sunset True Qi didn't naturally possess the ability to neutralize poison and purge foreign True Qi, I would have already...
He dared not think any further.
“You, named Zeng!” At that moment, Zhongli Mo spoke coldly, a faint, mocking smile playing on his lips.
“You are no match for me. Today, I shall show mercy and let you off. Leave quickly, and you might save your life.”
Zeng Qiyuan's expression remained unchanged as he spat out a few words through his teeth: “Save your breath, you evil heretic!”
Before his voice even faded, he suddenly pressed his palms together, sinking his waist and dropping into a low stance.
Within his dantian, purple True Qi surged like a raging tide, flooding up his meridians and dyeing his square face a deep, intense shade of purple.
《Purple Sunset Mystic Palm: Phoenix Arrival》!
Chirp! A clear, resonant cry of a phoenix suddenly rang out from between his palms.
Purple Qi surged like flames over Zeng Qiyuan's right palm. Stamping his foot with immense force, he cracked the bluestone tiles beneath him and soared into the air.
The churning purple Qi rapidly condensed in his palm, gradually shaping into a majestic phoenix head.
With its beak slightly open, it carried a force capable of piercing metal and shattering stone as it crashed toward Zhongli Mo's face!
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