Normally, before Yi Wusheng entered seclusion, he would place some Restrictions in Qiwu Courtyard to prevent anyone from accidentally intruding and disturbing him.

The regular disciples naturally knew the rules, but there was no guarantee a new, ignorant disciple wouldn't wander in. Moreover, there was a madman, Ah Yao, who ran amok all over Peach Blossom Isle.

Right now, those Restrictions were still in effect, so the Evil Demons from underground were blocked in front of the small building, unable to advance a single step.

When everything else stopped moving, the only one that could move became exceptionally conspicuous.

Yi Wusheng was that "only one".

Nearly a thousand disciples of the Hua Family gave chase, then came to a sudden halt, staring at Yi Wusheng with faces full of terror.

"What's going on?"

"Shouldn't the master be in seclusion?!"

"Yes!"

"Then why would he appear here, mixed in with the Evil Demons?"

As soon as this was said, a deathly silence fell over the area.

Because everyone knew the answer—Yi Wusheng's stumbling, impatient rush toward the building was far too obvious.

He wasn't mixed in with the Evil Demons; he was one of the Evil Demons.

Just like those buried underground, he was drawn by some powerful entity, running around Peach Blossom Isle for an entire night.

The Hua Family disciples had never anticipated this outcome. They all froze in place, at a loss for what to do.

Only one person failed to stop steadily and tumbled out from the crowd.

"Be careful—"

Amidst the cries of alarm, that person fell onto the earth churned up by the Evil Demons. He screamed madly, scrambling and crawling in an attempt to escape.

It was none other than the madman, Ah Yao.

"Ah Yao!"

"Ah Yao, come back—"

A disciple at the front was about to pull him back when he saw Yi Wusheng suddenly turn his head.

His body didn't move, but his neck twisted around in a way no living person could manage.

"Ah Yao..."

"Ah Yao..."

Yi Wusheng called out twice as if sighing, then his fingers suddenly curled—

Ah Yao, who was scrambling on the ground, was instantly dragged before Yi Wusheng as if seized by an invisible force.

Yi Wusheng clamped his hand around his neck and dragged him into the house.

"Ah Yao!!"

"Master—"

The disciples all raised their swords. The Sword Intent of nearly a thousand people surged like a gale, yet they hesitated to strike.

Among them, some had been taught by Yi Wusheng, and some had been treated by him. Even those who had neither had drunk the body-refining and qi-nourishing Disciple's Soup prepared by Yi Wusheng.

Even at this moment, with their master neither human nor ghost, they could not bring themselves to act.

But if they didn't act, Ah Yao was finished!

Because Evil Demons were always hungry, and when hungry, they had to eat. They fed on the flesh and souls of the living.

And Yi Wusheng, having been in seclusion for many days, was already famished.

Ah Yao kicked and punched, struggling relentlessly.

With his neck clamped, he couldn't cry out, only managing to force out a weak "Heh... heh..." from his throat.

The Sword Qi from his body flew about wildly, striking everywhere inside the house and instantly leaving a mess.

Yi Wusheng was cut in many places by the Sword Qi, with blood seeping out, but he seemed completely unaware. He just lifted Ah Yao up and leaned in to sniff the aura of a living person.

Purplish-blue veins surfaced on the back of his hand, making his skin look as thin as a membrane.

"Heh... heh..." Ah Yao's neck was flushed a deep purple. He struggled to focus his eyes, staring hard at Yi Wusheng.

Yi Wusheng's expression was numb. He let him stare, placing his other hand on top of his head.

The next instant, Ah Yao stiffened abruptly, his whole body trembling like a sieve.

That was the reaction of having one's spirit and flesh drawn out bit by bit. Even though he was a madman, he could clearly feel the terror.

He finally let out a hoarse cry and gripped Yi Wusheng's hand.

In the midst of the overwhelming terror, he finally managed to squeeze out a single word: "Mas—"

Yi Wusheng stiffened.

He heard that word, and his fingers twitched twice.

It was as if a remnant of his consciousness was trying to push aside the Evil Demon's instincts.

Unfortunately, there was too little of it left.

He contorted his head a few times and opened his mouth, but before the word "Yao" could come out, his fingers had already tightened.

"Ahhh—"

Ah Yao screamed wretchedly.

Suddenly!

A blinding white light flashed through the house, making Yi Wusheng flinch.

The next moment, the phantom of a giant sword plunged down from the second floor and slammed into the ground, embedding itself in front of Yi Wusheng.

Yi Wusheng abruptly let go!

He was thrown back by the frigid Sword Intent, slamming violently against a wooden pillar and spitting out a large mouthful of blood.

When he looked up again, Xiao Fuxuan and Wu Xingxue had arrived before him.

Ah Yao was sprawled on the floor, coughing his lungs out.

He wanted to run, but his limbs were weak. After struggling for a moment, he simply rolled over and lay limp on the ground, panting heavily.

"Can this little madman live?" Wu Xingxue bent down to check Ah Yao's breathing.

Xiao Fuxuan glanced at his action and pressed the back of his index finger against the center of Ah Yao's forehead.

"He can live."

Most of his spirit was still there, not completely devoured.

"Then his luck isn't bad." Wu Xingxue withdrew the hand checking his breath and imitated Xiao Fuxuan, pressing his own against Ah Yao's forehead.

It didn't seem like he could make out anything.

Xiao Fuxuan: "..."

Xiao Fuxuan: "What did you find?"

Wu Xingxue: "His head is hotter than my hand."

As he spoke, he straightened up and turned to look at the blood-spitting Yi Wusheng. A moment later, he eagerly reached out a hand.