After Refusing Marriage to the Dao of Slaughter Patriarch (22)

Although Ji Zhaixing had used the Appearance Concealment Spell, the face was still his own. His pale skin was soft, and after being pinched like this, a brilliant red hue immediately surfaced.

He looked at Tang Huaimeng expressionlessly.

Lu Dengming clenched his palms slightly, suppressing his anger. He stepped sideways to block the space between Tang Huaimeng and Ji Zhaixing, the smile gone from his face. "Senior Tang, what are you doing?"

Tang Huaimeng seemed to wake from a dream.

He released his grip on Ji Zhaixing's cheek, the soft touch seemingly lingering on his fingertips.

"Sorry." For a heaven-chosen genius like Tang Huaimeng, who came from an aristocratic family and was full of arrogance, to actually have a moment of apparent guilt. His gaze swept over the unremarkable face of the black-haired cultivator before him again, landing on the faint red mark at the corner of his eye. His tone carried an unknown sense of desolation: "Your name is very good."

Very good?

The cultivators secretly thought, 'Ji Xing' sounded quite unremarkable too. Could it be the unknown Dao name of some Patriarch who had ascended to immortality?

Ji Zhaixing nodded slightly without making a sound. Bearing the bright red mark from the pinch, he took a step back, as docile as a kitten that could be casually knocked over by anyone without even scratching.

Tang Huaimeng had roughly "inspected" Ji Zhaixing, and upon finding nothing unusual, he no longer paid him any attention. He sat to the side, flicking his wide sleeves lightly, his expression like thin ice, and closed his eyes to cultivate.

Only those familiar with him could tell from the slight furrow of Tang Huaimeng's brow just how unsettled his state of mind was right now.

Lu Dengming still strongly minded Senior Tang's previous actions, so he quietly stayed one step ahead of Ji Zhaixing.

Their respective reactions all fell into Yun Liu's eyes. Yun Liu curled his lips into a slight smile, as if he found the scene before him very amusing. He didn't point it out, but found a spot to regulate his breathing and rest for a moment. Then, he began to plan the route they would take next.

The edges of the Spirit Domain had already been explored and figured out, with no sign of the hidden rift where the exit was located. If they wanted to leave, they could only explore further inward.

Currently, the ones with the highest cultivation among them were Tang Huaimeng at the half-step Out-of-Body Realm, and Yun Liu at the peak of the Nascent Soul realm. The other disciples were mostly at the Golden Core realm. Rashly confronting the Nascent Soul demonic beasts that might appear inside the Spirit Domain was obviously a bit risky—but they were Mingling Sect disciples after all. Having formed their Golden Cores at a young age, they were deeply favored by their elders and possessed countless magical artifacts and pills. Each had their own trump cards, so they wouldn't panic at a time like this.

The route Yun Liu planned happened to coincide with Ji Zhaixing's thoughts.

The black-haired sword cultivator slightly lowered his eyes, memorizing the drawn topographical map in his heart once more. Making slight modifications based on the places he had personally walked through, the outer scenery of the Spirit Domain surfaced in his mind, every piece of terrain perfectly replicated.

The time to leave could be pushed back a bit further—Ji Zhaixing was thinking this when he suddenly raised his head.

Extremely faint sounds of struggling, crying out, and cursing transmitted over like a thin string.

Ji Zhaixing slightly rose, and the white brocade slid down naturally. His expression remained as usual, only that hint of coldness in his pupils was concealed beneath his dark eyelashes.

At the same time, Tang Huaimeng, who was cultivating with his eyes closed, also seemed to have sensed something. He just silently listened as the cursing grew more mournful and desperate, containing intense resentment.

At this time, the sun and moon rotated, and incredibly bright moonlight spilled onto the ground. Yun Liu stood up, his handsome face appearing somewhat pale under the moonlight: "Did you hear anything?"

A disciple carefully used his divine sense to probe before saying, "Someone is calling for help. Could they have been injured by a demonic beast?"

"That doesn't seem to be the case." Yun Liu left his meaning unfinished.

But since they had heard it, a major sect like the Mingling Sword Sect, which was the leader of the righteous path in the cultivation world, naturally wouldn't sit idly by. Yun Liu said, "I will go and take a look."

As soon as he moved, Ji Zhaixing also stood up.

The black-haired sword cultivator's appearance was unremarkable, but his cheeks looked especially fair and smooth under the moonlight, like a pampered young master of an aristocratic family, naturally possessing a kind of 'docility.'

He looked at Yun Liu and said in a very light voice, "Together."

Yun Liu originally wanted to refuse, but crashing into Ji Zhaixing's pitch-black pupils, he found those eyes to be extremely clear and bright. For some reason, he changed his words: "Stay close to me."

Those Mingling lineage disciples who originally followed Yun Liu had never seen Ji Zhaixing draw his sword, so when he followed along, they only thought of him as the most ordinary of cultivators.

But they hadn't expected that as soon as this cultivator arrived, he not only attracted the attention of their Senior Tang, but even in front of Senior Yun, he relied on Senior Yun's good temper to try and get close with all sorts of schemes.

He really was from a small sect; he was far too calculating.

Lu Dengming naturally followed Ji Zhaixing as well, immediately saying, "I will also follow—"

"You stay here," Tang Huaimeng stood up and said coldly. "I'll go."

"..."

The Mingling Sect disciples suddenly smelled the scent of an approaching storm.

Although Lu Dengming was a personal disciple of the Mingling Sect Master and a candidate for the next sect master, he was indeed very respectful towards his elders. Therefore, his reputation within the sect was excellent, and he could be considered the leading figure among the younger disciples.

However, facing Tang Huaimeng's words at this moment, his expression was indifferent, showing no signs of backing down.

"Senior Tang, I'm afraid that won't do." Lu Dengming spoke gently, but anyone could smell the scent of gunpowder in his words.

The rest of the disciples slightly held their breath. Even the Fang brothers, who had a relatively good relationship with Lu Dengming, couldn't help but tug at Senior Brother Lu's sleeve, signaling that he shouldn't contradict Senior Tang like this no matter what.

Yun Liu blinked slightly, and his gentle tone broke the awkwardness.

"Why don't we go together," Yun Liu said. "It's nothing major anyway."

He then instructed the remaining disciples with higher cultivation levels to stand guard, conveniently defusing the awkward and confrontational situation.

The four walked briskly, following the sound, and soon saw the source of the crying—

The cultivators' curses were incredibly vicious, filled with resentment like dying ghosts. But probably no one would have the leisure to criticize their vulgar language, considering the scene before them was truly too unbearable.

This area nearby was originally the hunting ground of the Chunming Sect.

Several disciples wearing light begonia-colored sect uniforms were smiling playfully as they tied up the two crying and struggling men, preparing to use them as furnace cauldrons.

And the two cultivators had likely been cursing for a long time. Their eyes wept blood, and besides the humiliation that made them wish to hang themselves, their eyes were full of hatred, as crazed as if they had succumbed to a demon.

The Chunming Sect was also a major sect in the Upper World, and could even be said to be one of the sects with the largest number of disciples, yet their reputation was not very good—mentioning them alongside a major sect like the Mingling Sword Sect seemed like a joke.

Their sect's core secret art was the Dual Cultivation Technique, and they had once degenerated into a demonic cultivator sect. It was only when their current sect master turned the tide and formed a Daoist couple with a Soul Splitting Realm patriarch that they managed to preserve the sect, and even leaped to become one of the Seven Great Sects of the Upper World.

The Chunming Sect didn't have high requirements for their disciples' aptitudes and spirit roots, and the cultivation was relatively relaxed, so they recruited widely and expanded extremely fast.

Sects that rose up like this were mostly looked down upon by sects like the Mingling Sword Sect, which were truly renowned in the cultivation world for their strength.

But even if they looked down on them, the Chunming Sect wasn't composed of demonic cultivators. Forcibly plundering others to use as furnace cauldrons was taking it too far. After all, those who could enter the Spirit Domain were all disciples of named sects. Competing with each other was one thing, but forming a blood feud would lead to a battle between sects.

Yun Liu had also come precisely for this. Seeing that the Chunming Sect people hadn't reacted, he made a bit more noise.

Those Chunming Sect disciples were in high spirits and only belatedly realized that someone had come. They hastily tidied up and looked back—only to run into a group of cultivators. Seeing their attire belonged to the Mingling Sword Sect, it scared the life out of them, causing what was beneath them to go completely soft.

For a moment, it was awkward and embarrassing.

Their leader, Eldest Senior Brother Fang Qichun, had excellent eyesight. Recognizing that these weren't ordinary Mingling Sword Sect disciples, but figures who could cause storms of blood in the cultivation world, he immediately bowed to them very respectfully.

Only Yun Liu responded to him.

Ji Zhaixing stood half a step back, staring coldly at the two bullied cultivators.

It actually coincided with his vague guess.

They weren't Yushui Sect disciples, but they were genuinely cultivators from their small world. One was the remaining Foundation Establishment stage disciple of the Jinghua Dao, and the other was from the Bumeng Sect, with a cultivation base at the eighth stage of Qi Condensation.

Ji Zhaixing still remembered their faces.

These two cultivators fell into this Spirit Domain and were lucky enough not to be eaten by demonic beasts, but they fell into the hands of fellow Daoist cultivators and suffered endless humiliation.

Just thinking that if his junior brothers were to be encountered, they would mostly suffer the same treatment, the suppressed killing intent flickered in Ji Zhaixing's slightly lowered eyes.

Although it was awkward, during the time Yun Liu lowered his eyes to identify them, he recognized that those two cultivators were definitely not disciples chosen to enter the Spirit Domain—their cultivation was truly too low. Their very appearance in the Spirit Domain seemed like an absurd joke.

And the Chunming Sect was probably not so resourceful as to waste extremely precious quotas on two furnace cauldrons.

The inquiry in Yun Liu's eyes was too obvious, and Fang Qichun didn't hide it either, generously saying, "These two came from the Lower Three Thousand Worlds—they had a stroke of luck, but for some reason, instead of entering the mystic realm, they mistakenly entered the Spirit Domain."

In the eyes of these Golden Core cultivators, Qi Condensation disciples were like mortals, mere ants that could be tormented at will. And for Qi Condensation disciples from the lower worlds, there wasn't even a need to worry about the background supporting them.

The two cultivators had long been hit with a Silence Spell, so they couldn't speak at this time, but their eyes were full of fiery rage.

Probably afraid that the Mingling Sword Sect group would find him too cruel, Fang Qichun hurriedly explained, "People like them naturally wouldn't survive in the Spirit Domain. I took it upon myself to take them in and spare their lives. Who knew these two would be so greedy as to set their eyes on the spiritual items we acquired, attempting to steal them and escape. In my fury, I took them as slaves, treating them entirely as playthings to vent on."

His words sounded quite righteous and awe-inspiring.

Yun Liu also seemed to believe his story and smiled faintly: "Then we won't disturb you."

They were just a few ants from the lower world; even if they died, it wouldn't matter.

All of Yun Liu's consideration and goodwill were reserved for his "fellow cultivators," and when he found out they weren't of the same kind, he naturally wouldn't waste any more mental energy on them.

Even though a moment's thought would make it clear: how could two disciples who accidentally stumbled into the Spirit Domain, with the highest cultivation merely at the Foundation Establishment realm, have the courage to steal secret treasures from a group of Golden Core cultivators? Even if they succeeded, they already had a nine-in-ten chance of dying in the Spirit Domain, plus they would have to avoid the revenge of Golden Core cultivators. How would they have the life left to escape?

The poisonous resentment in the eyes of the two disciples was almost unerasable.

They thought that even if they became vengeful ghosts, never to be reincarnated, it would be better than being slandered and endlessly tortured here.

Yun Liu had already taken his leave, but at this moment, the black-haired sword cultivator a step behind him, who had almost melted into the shadows, suddenly stepped forward. He looked at Fang Qichun, the corners of his lips even bearing a very subtle, gentle smile.

"I wonder if fellow Daoist could give these two to me?" Ji Zhaixing said. "I have some interest."

Fang Qichun looked at the disciple who stepped out—previously, since he was behind the others, it was hard to observe him, and Fang Qichun couldn't be sure who he was. But now that he stepped out, the difference between his attire and the surrounding Mingling disciples was easily noticeable.

This wasn't a person from the Sword Sect.

The person's appearance couldn't even be called passable; it was rather somewhat ugly. Separately, his facial features were all proper and delicate, but put together, they were as bland and tasteless as plain boiled water.

Yet, he was born with an excellent figure.

Those limpid black pupils and raven-wing-like eyelashes seemed to hold some magic, making one unable to look away once they stared, as if it were a very, very charming face.

Fang Qichun was used to seeing beauties and didn't care for ugly people, but as soon as Ji Zhaixing came out, it was as if he broke this spell of his.

His eyes—which were originally handsome but had become very murky due to being shrouded in lust year-round—even narrowed as he scrutinized him closely.

What a pity. If only the person in front of him looked a little more outstanding...

Although he recognized that this wasn't a disciple of the Mingling Sword Sect, since he was walking alongside figures like Yun Liu, Tang Huaimeng, and the sect master's head disciple, he couldn't easily make a move. Fang Qichun quickly dismissed the idea: "Daoist is joking. How could two furnace cauldrons with unclean hands and feet be sent over to dirty your eyes?"

Ji Zhaixing maintained that gentle appearance: "And if I insist?"

He didn't offer anything in exchange, showing no sincerity at all; it seemed more like outright robbery.

Fang Qichun's smile grew slightly cold.

"Daoist seems to be... relying on backing to bully others."

When Lu Dengming heard Ji Zhaixing ask for those two cultivators, he was also slightly astonished, his thoughts complex. For a moment, he thought: Could it be that Daoist Ji also has an interest in these crooked cultivation methods?

But if that were really the case, what use would asking for two low-level furnace cauldrons be? It would be better to...

Lu Dengming's face turned red and white. Then he heard Martial Uncle Tang beside him sneer, and immediately reacted, feeling a bit ashamed.

Daoist Ji merely wanted to save those two cultivators; how could his thoughts drift there?

Fang Qichun knew of Tang Huaimeng and also knew he acted coldly and sternly. Hearing this sneer, he immediately assumed Tang Huaimeng was mocking this black-haired sword cultivator for lacking a sense of propriety and acting recklessly, thinking that by borrowing the prestige of the Mingling Sword Sect, he could speak to him so arrogantly.

Just as he was about to display his magnanimity and nonchalance, he heard Tang Huaimeng lazily say, "If you like them, just snatch them over. Why waste your breath?"

With just these words, giving absolutely no face, Fang Qichun's face turned pale.

It seemed to take him quite a while to recover. Knowing he couldn't afford to offend Tang Huaimeng, he actually managed to hang on a layer of hypocritical smile: "Senior Tang is joking. They are just two little playthings, I'll hand them over as a convenience."

Saying so, Fang Qichun stepped aside, fully revealing the two cultivators.

For these two disciples, being transferred from the hands of one heartless cultivator to another wasn't exactly a good leap either.

Because of the Silence Spell, their tongues had almost rotted away. Their mouths were full of the metallic taste of blood, and when the cool breeze blew in, it felt like blades meticulously slicing across their tongues—it was unbearably painful. Their pupils were also bloodshot as they stared fixedly at the black-haired cultivator approaching them, as if wanting to permanently engrave his face into the depths of their eyes, so they wouldn't forget this blood feud even in their next lives.

Ji Zhaixing walked over step by step.

His gaze did not fall on the two cultivators' exposed wounds. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, placed his hand on the chains binding them, and applied a light force.

With a soft "clack" sound.

The chains shattered.

Ji Zhaixing still wore that indifferent expression, the corner of his eye bearing a trace of heartless red.

"Get up and walk on your own."

......

Fang Qichun felt tonight was extremely cold.

That unsettling Retrospection Night had not arrived, yet his surroundings were extremely silent. Not only were the noisy demonic beasts absent, but he couldn't even hear the slightest chirp of an insect.

The other disciples had been sent by him to guard the edges of the formation, while he paced somewhat anxiously beside the spiritual fire.

Something dripped down from the sky, a viscous, warm drop.

Fang Qichun suddenly felt a bit dizzy. He raised his head, only to see a familiar face. It was that lowly ant from the lower world, squatting on a tree branch. The curved saber in his hand was drawn, and drop after drop of blood was condensing on the blade's edge, falling onto his face.

That person's eyes were extremely bright even in the darkness. He smiled slightly, like a monster about to peel one's skin, strip one's bones, and swallow them whole.

......

This was Qi Baishan's most difficult time in over ten years.

Going from the mystic realm they were supposed to enter to a mysterious and unpredictable place, although all ten of them were together and tried their best to be careful, two fellow disciples still died under the claws of Golden Core demonic beasts.

They survived with great difficulty, and then bumped into the Chunming Sect cultivators. They treated those cultivators as seniors they could ask for help, and a little bit of goodwill from the other party made these disciples from a small world feel overwhelmed by favor, filled with admiration and respect.

Believing they had nothing that these Zhenjuns could exploit, they entrusted all their trust in them. Little did they know that the other party merely viewed them as ants and swine, finding it highly amusing to watch them struggle for survival, and laughing gleefully.

Qi Baishan was driven into a demon's den to fetch medicine. He thought he would surely die in that place.

But not only did he not die, he also inherited the legacy of a Soul Splitting Realm demonic cultivator, using the abundant spiritual energy in the mystic realm to break through to the Golden Core realm in one fell swoop.

He became a demonic cultivator.

Sharing his good luck was Yong Lianyin, who was forced off a bottomless cliff. Even after falling and becoming a cripple, he found an immortal herb to save his life and even obtained a half-grade immortal artifact as his natal artifact.

They bumped into each other by chance, and their thoughts perfectly aligned—they wanted to take revenge.

They absolutely had to take revenge.

Their extreme caution and care turned into disappointment when they saw those people thoughtlessly fall into their traps. This group of "Patriarchs" they had once looked up to indeed had extremely high cultivation, but their application of it was inferior even to these two newly-formed Golden Core disciples. They were simply one more useless than the other; using divide-and-conquer tactics on them almost seemed ridiculously overcautious.

Only that Fang Qichun was a bit harder to deal with.

Qi Baishan killed the last Chunming Sect disciple, nearly losing half his life in the process. The limp corpse lay in his hands, neck twisted to the side, its eyes still retaining a look of disbelief—the ants they had looked down upon had actually become vengeful spirits claiming their lives.

Qi Baishan dug out his Golden Core and swallowed it, then sucked his essence blood dry—the flesh and blood of the corpse rapidly melted away, becoming a parched skin covering white bones. Once it had no more use value, it was casually tossed onto the ground by Qi Baishan.

His true essence became abundant once again.

Yong Lianyin returned.

The curved saber in his hand was still firmly pressed against the life vein of Fang Qichun, whose limbs had been broken. Seeing the ground littered with dried corpses, he frowned slightly, but didn't voice any opinion on Qi Baishan's actions.

After all, just surviving was difficult enough.

Qi Baishan glanced at the thing in Yong Lianyin's hand, his tone extremely cold: "Why haven't you killed him? Or should I do it?"

"No," Yong Lianyin said. "He said that among the disciples who were with us, there are still some alive... whom he gave to cultivators from another sect."

"He left a mark and can lead us to find them."

Those two who were alive... might possibly be Yushui Sect disciples.

Even if they were other cultivators, to Qi Baishan and Yong Lianyin, they still held special significance.

On Qi Baishan's fair and clean face, scarlet mucus still remained. He leaned forward slightly, his pupils somewhat tinged with red: "Did you lie?"

Fang Qichun trembled slightly. He spoke uncontrollably, his voice hoarse and broken: "I didn't lie. They are alive, and I can find them."

In Qi Baishan's mind, the image of these disciples from the large sects of the Upper World had already been replaced by the Chunming Sect cultivators. Each and every one of them was a piece of trash with empty cultivation, the same kind of beastly scum; killing a few more wouldn't matter.

"Lead the way," Qi Baishan said.

Driven by hatred, he was too lazy to say another word, and thus missed the terrified yet sinister gleam in Fang Qichun's eyes.

If Qi Baishan had asked just one more question about his motives, he probably would have been dead for sure.

They probably had absolutely no idea of the gap between the Mingling Sword Sect and the Chunming Sect. Being so arrogant, he would definitely ensure that these ants all died under the swords of the Mingling Sword Sect.

......

Ji Zhaixing's third attempt to take his leave was rejected.

His face still bore its usual expression, and he remained silent, exceedingly quiet. Only occasionally was there a hint of melancholy in his eyes, as if he were pondering over something.

Lu Dengming was also full of worries. Looking at Daoist Ji's cheek illuminated by the firelight, it was as if his soul had been stolen.

At this time, those two people had already changed into clean clothes, and the wounds on their bodies had been treated with medicine and covered tightly. They didn't stay with the Mingling Sword Sect disciples, but merely huddled in a corner without saying a word.

In fact, these two disciples hadn't expected that the black-haired cultivator who asked for them wouldn't do anything inappropriate.

He didn't even specifically put chains on them, as if he couldn't be bothered to care whether they escaped or not.

Even a small matter like Qi Condensation and Foundation Establishment cultivators needing to eat spiritual food seemed to be remembered by the black-haired cultivator. He went to pick spiritual fruits and caught a demonic beast that hadn't yet developed sapience. Cutting out a soft piece of meat from its belly, he roasted it until it was tender and bursting with a rich, oily aroma, then shared it between the two of them.

Those Mingling Sect disciples had no objections to Ji Xing going out and bringing back two outsiders, but they had major objections to Ji Xing roasting meat.

The Mingling Sect disciples, who had clearly formed their Golden Cores and didn't need to worry about hunger, continuously secreted saliva upon smelling the aroma of the roasted meat.

It was truly strange, why did it smell so fragrant...

The two cultivators were still hateful and fearful, but upon smelling that aroma—the Chunming Sect couldn't possibly have fed them, and after enduring for a while, they could endure no longer. They ate that piece of roasted meat along with the spiritual fruits cleanly.

They even couldn't help but burp, the rich, melt-in-the-mouth taste of the grease still lingering in their mouths.

The two cultivators felt extremely humiliated.

Yun Liu watched from afar how Ji Zhaixing interacted with them and smiled slightly. He said slowly to the person beside him, "That fellow Daoist is quite kind-hearted, only he's wasting a bit too much energy."

In the past, Tang Huaimeng would still respectfully call him senior brother, but after that incident, the two of them indeed hadn't spoken for a long time. At this moment, Tang Huaimeng sneered: "That's still not your place to manage."

The atmosphere instantly froze.

Yun Liu lowered his eyes, quietly poking the fire without saying another word. Then he suddenly raised his head and said, "Such a heavy... stench of blood."

......

Yong Lianyin had broken every bone in Fang Qichun's body, and Qi Baishan had ripped out his tongue and blinded one of his eyes. Even if it wasn't foolproof, it could be considered taking comprehensive precautions.

However, they still underestimated these cultivators who came from large sects too much.

When Fang Qichun led them to where the Mingling Sword Sect was stationed, despite every bone in his body being shattered and bleeding profusely, he still revealed a bizarre smile. He didn't shout; his body, held tightly by Yong Lianyin, softened slightly, leaving only a layer of human skin behind.

Like a golden cicada shedding its shell, Fang Qichun seemed to possess a brand new body, his skin and flesh all a pinkish color. Without time to care about his plummeting cultivation, he staggered and fled to Yun Liu, almost getting kicked away by him.

"Daoist Yun, save me!" he cried out mournfully, recounting what Qi Baishan and Yong Lianyin had done last night, shedding tears of pain and sighing that out of all their sect disciples, only he was left alive.

Even though being killed by ants from the lower world was incredibly disgraceful, Fang Qichun couldn't care about that anymore. He stated bluntly, "Today's gracious assistance from the Mingling Sword Sect will be forever engraved in my heart, Fang Qichun. Upon returning, I will definitely inform my master to personally pay a visit and offer thanks." The weight of these words was not light at all. He added, "These two, one wields a half-grade immortal artifact, which must surely have been stolen; the other has fallen into becoming a demonic cultivator, an unforgivable crime! I implore the Mingling Sword Sect to lend a hand!"

Upon the mention of an immortal artifact, even a half-grade one, the cultivators present all revealed expressions of shock and horror.

Firstly, there was the great righteous cause of assisting fellow Daoists, and secondly, there was the temptation of an immortal artifact. Especially since one of those two was even a demonic cultivator, slaying him couldn't be more justified and reasonable. How to choose seemed to no longer require any consideration.

The moment Ji Zhaixing's gaze fell upon the new arrivals, he paused slightly.

Qi Baishan was covered in blood and filth, with dark red scabs on his face that hadn't been wiped off. At this moment, he was watching everything before him with a mocking, cold sneer.

His little junior brother had succumbed to the demonic path.

Ji Zhaixing's blood-drinking sword was unsheathed. His footsteps were clearly slow, yet for a moment, no one noticed him. The edge of the sword instantly thrust into Fang Qichun's back. Clean and neat, it revealed a sense of ruthlessness.

The long sword drank blood.

Fang Qichun's smile froze on his face. This was his second miscalculation.

Ji Zhaixing's voice was steady, without a hint of fluctuation. It sounded indifferent and heartless, not the slightest bit like his usual self.

"You deserve to die," Ji Zhaixing said.

Those Mingling Sword Sect disciples seemed to not have reacted to what happened for a moment. Even Qi Baishan and Yong Lianyin looked inquiring, as if they couldn't figure out why this group of Upper World cultivators suddenly started "infighting".

Ji Zhaixing delivered another sword strike to Fang Qichun, this time even more ruthless, truly a strike that ended a life. Stepping over Fang Qichun's fallen body, he walked through the pool of blood, yet the hem of his clothes wasn't stained by a single speck of dirt.

He walked to Qi Baishan, turned around, and pointed his sword at the cultivators of the Mingling Sword Sect.

"Sorry, I lied to you." Ji Zhaixing's voice was very soft, but falling into Lu Dengming's ears, it felt like being struck by lightning.