“Accidental killing?”
Her voice was not loud, but it was as clear as jade striking stone, spreading throughout the entire venue.
“To break a mortal’s limbs and throw them into the wilderness without any investigation—is that what you call an accidental killing?”
Wu Yan slowly raised the long sword in her hand, Noble Pure Chi flowing along the edge of the blade.
“Sun Elder, as the Disciplinary Elder, you protect your own kin and treat mortals like grass.”
“You are not fit to speak of the rules.”
“Presumptuous! You brat, you dare to lecture me?!”
Sun Elder’s fig leaf was stripped away in public, and his old face turned the color of pig liver. He spoke no more as the spiritual power of the late Gold Core Realm erupted from his body. Spiritual energy surged from his hands, transforming into thousands of fierce silver needles that covered the sky and moved to envelop Wu Yan.
This was the orthodox Thousands of Silk Tens of Thousand Mountains Strength of the Piaomiao Sect. The higher the cultivation and the more profound the spiritual energy, the more silver needles one could manifest.
“Kneel and admit your mistake!” Sun Elder roared.
A burst of exclamations came from the disciples below the platform. This move was heavy and powerful. Although the Eldest Senior Sister was a Heaven’s Favorite, she was still young; how could she block this?
Facing the sky full of silver silk, not a single ripple appeared in Wu Yan’s eyes. She took a step forward and drew a rounded arc in the air with the long sword in her right hand, possessing an indescribable sense of rhythm.
A brilliant, pure white sword light rippled out. That sword light actually gathered up all of Sun Elder’s Thousands of Silk Tens of Thousand Mountains Strength in an instant.
“I am returning this to you.”
Wu Yan flicked the tip of her sword. The thousands of silver threads instantly surged back, smashing into Sun Elder with a roar!
“Pfft!” Sun Elder spat out a mouthful of blood. The sea of air in his dantian was shaken with agonizing pain, and he was sent flying like a kite with a broken string, smashing heavily against a stone pillar. He could not crawl back up for a long time.
Wu Yan sheathed her sword and stood still, her breath steady.
“You clearly just entered the Gold Core Realm not long ago, why—”
She bypassed Sun Elder and walked step by step toward Wang Teng, who was slumped on the ground.
Wu Yan excitedly leaned against Wu Yan’s ear and screamed: “Quick! Crush his head! Let everyone see the consequences of resisting us!”
Wu Yan’s eyes were cold. The tip of her sword slowly rose, pointing directly at the space between Wang Teng’s eyebrows.
“Stop!”
At the very moment Wu Yan’s sword was about to descend, Xia Lingshuang arrived, supported by Yu Qingyao. She forced her weakened body to stand and shouted angrily at Wu Yan.
“Kneel!” Xia Lingshuang pushed Yu Qingyao away, her eyes fixed on Wu Yan, the hatred within them almost overflowing.
“Beating an elder in public and harming your fellow disciples—is this the rule I taught you?!”
“But he killed the innocent.”
“I will report this to the Sect Master and let him decide!”
Wu Yan wanted to explain, but looking at Xia Lingshuang’s eyes, which were filled with disgust and fear, she realized any explanation would be futile.
Wu Yan was so angry she jumped: “Get out of the way! Get out of the way! This old woman is obstructing you! Kill her! Kill her along with him! We have to do it sooner or later anyway!”
Wu Yan retracted her sword, her movements carrying a trace of unwillingness and suppressed endurance.
She looked at Xia Lingshuang, her gaze as calm as stagnant water. “Since Master has spoken, your disciple obeys.”
She gently returned the sword to its scabbard. In a moment unnoticed by anyone, a tiny strand of sword intent from her fingertip silently entered the space between the eyebrows of the slumped, barely-surviving Wang Teng.
***
The night was as dark as ink, and inside the main hall of Zhuqu Peak, the candlelight flickered.
Xia Lingshuang sat at the table, her expression dark. She tried to repair her meridians, but the injury was too severe; every time she circulated her power, it was accompanied by sharp pain.
Right then, a steady sound of footsteps suddenly came from outside the hall.
The door was pushed open directly, and Wu Yan walked in. She had changed into a clean green robe and held a delicate jade bowl in her hand. Steam rose from the bowl.
“What are you here for?” Xia Lingshuang looked at her warily.
Wu Yan walked to the table and gently placed the bowl of purplish-black medicinal soup in front of Xia Lingshuang.
“Medicine.” Wu Yan was concise, uttering only one word.
Xia Lingshuang looked at the bowl of what looked like poison and laughed out of extreme anger. “What? Is it because you couldn’t anger your Master to death today, so you couldn’t wait to send poison tonight?”
Wu Yan was silent for a moment.
She could feel the bone-deep hatred in her Master’s words. She did not feel wronged; it was indeed she who had poisoned her Master before.
In her Master’s eyes, she was a scoundrel who had betrayed her teacher and sect.
“This is not poison.”
Wu Yan gave a clumsy explanation, her voice still flat. “This is Nine Nether Blood Lingzhi. It can heal your injuries.”
“Nine Nether Blood Lingzhi?” Xia Lingshuang was stunned for a moment, then her mockery grew even stronger. “That kind of spiritual medicine that grows in desperate lands and is guarded by high-level demonic beasts—you would be kind enough to pick it for me? Or did you add other ingredients inside?”
“I won’t drink it!” Xia Lingshuang coldly refused. “Take it away.”
Wu Yan floated on the roof beam, swinging her legs and laughing:
“Tsk tsk, kindness treated as a malicious intent. You almost got swallowed by that One-horned Flood Dragon to pick that useless weed, and yet she doesn’t appreciate it at all. I say, why don’t we just poison her to death? We can be the Peak Master ourselves. Wouldn’t that be more carefree?”
Wu Yan ignored the noise in her head.
She just looked at Xia Lingshuang—the woman who was once peerless in her generation but was now weak and fragile because of “her.”
Wu Yan didn’t want to waste any more words. She picked up the bowl and walked toward Xia Lingshuang step by step.
“What are you doing?” Xia Lingshuang shrank back warily, attempting to mobilize her spiritual power, but she was a beat too slow due to the intense pain.
Wu Yan’s figure flashed, appearing directly before the couch.
She grabbed Xia Lingshuang’s wrist with one hand. Her movements were forceful, yet she skillfully avoided her Master’s painful areas.
“Open your mouth.”
“Wu Yan! You dare—Mph!”
Just as Xia Lingshuang was about to resist, Wu Yan took the opportunity to feed a spoonful of medicine into her mouth.
Bitter. It was so bitter it was unbearable.
Xia Lingshuang wanted to spit it out, but Wu Yan’s finger gently tapped an acupoint on her throat, forcing her to swallow it. Then came the second spoonful, and the third.
Throughout the process, Wu Yan’s eyes were focused and serious, as if she were completing a solemn ritual. She showed no pleasure from revenge, nor any expectation of credit.
Until the bowl of medicine reached the bottom.
Wu Yan let go and took a step back.
Xia Lingshuang clutched her chest, staring at her in humiliation, the corners of her eyes reddening. “You…”
However, before she could finish, a warm and overbearing medicinal force instantly dissolved in her stomach, flowing through her meridians to every part of her body. The agonizing pain that had been torturing her was miraculously relieved under the washing of this medicinal power.
Xia Lingshuang was stunned.
It really was the Nine Nether Blood Lingzhi. She hadn’t lied?
But soon, she remembered her previous life. Wu Yan had also used the opportunity of feeding her medicine to plant an incurable poison in her body.
Wu Yan turned around and walked toward the door, her back looking somewhat desolate in the moonlight.
“I will deliver the medicine every day.”
—
Meanwhile.
The outer sect disciples’ residence.
Wang Teng, who had been carried back, lay on the bed with a face full of resentment.
“Wu Yan… that bitch! I will definitely kill her!” Wang Teng gnashed his teeth, fantasizing about his revenge, killing intent surging in his heart. “I’ll find people to gang up on her! I’ll make her wish she was dead!”
At the very moment his killing intent reached its peak.
Clang.
A faint sound of a sword humming echoed deep in his mind.
It was that sliver of sword intent Wu Yan had planted earlier that day.
Wang Teng’s expression froze instantly.
He didn’t even have time to let out a scream before that long-dormant sword intent erupted, shredding his heart and meridians into powder.
His eyes remained wide open, his expression still resentful, but his life force was severed.
Outside the window, the moonlight was like frost.
No one knew that the Eldest Senior Sister, who had said “Your disciple obeys” on the Martial Arts Platform that day, had actually already pronounced his death sentence.
To be kind to the wicked is to be cruel to the weak.
On a distant mountain peak, Wu Yan, who was meditating, seemed to sense something. She slightly opened her eyes and looked toward the outer sect, her expression indifferent.
Wu Yan floated beside her and whistled:
“Oh? That trash is dead? Tsk tsk, you really have deep schemes, my dear Wu Yan. But… I like this move!”
Wu Yan closed her eyes again.
“Noisy.”