Chapter Eighty-Two: Sinister and Ruthless

Mo Bai gazed at the bubbling blue spring, speaking slowly, “Perhaps your eldest senior brother’s intentions aren’t so simple. At the very least, he didn’t come for you—his expression when he saw you was definitely one of surprise.”

Nalan Xin’er nodded in agreement. “Now that I think about it, when Senior Brother Jiu Ling fought at the entrance to Guihai Pavilion, it must have been with our eldest senior brother’s permission. Otherwise, no matter how brash he is, he wouldn’t have acted against orders. Unless…”

Wu Luohua interjected, “It seems the Yuntian Sect is planning to stand with the Yihua Sect this time.”

Nalan Xin’er tilted her head, a bit perplexed. “Why would he act so rashly? Eldest senior brother should be assessing the situation first. After all, the Guihai family hasn’t made us their target yet. They only have admiration for us, but lack the strength to make a move.”

Wu Luohua smiled. “Guihai City has weathered a century of ups and downs. Perhaps they can’t stand to see the equally long-standing Yihua Sect suddenly standing tall on the Linglong Continent. Old Guihai may not be able to bear the loneliness any longer.” As he spoke, his expression dimmed, thoughts drifting to the white-haired old man at home. He wondered how the old master had been lately.

Mo Bai quietly took out the withered branch, the token to Yihua Sect that Master had given him when they parted. He studied it in silence, as if searching for some connection.

Just as their minds wandered, the distant shadows of people flickered. Wu Luohua and Tian Huashan hadn’t noticed, but it was impossible to hide from Mo Bai and Nalan Xin’er, especially the little witch. She glanced back and exclaimed, “Huh? I feel like I’ve seen a few of those people before. Aren’t they spiritual cultivators from the Guihai family? Why aren’t they resting and preparing for tomorrow’s tournament? What are they doing in such a remote part of Guihai City?”

Mo Bai flicked his hand; with a soft pop, a newly emerged bubble from the spring was silently burst. He chuckled, “Xin’er, are your feet comfortable soaking in the water?”

Nalan Xin’er immediately replied, “Very! It feels wonderful. I have to thank Uncle Tian for that!”

Mo Bai slowly rose to his feet. “Since you’re feeling refreshed, come with me to see what’s happening over there.”

Nalan Xin’er quickly drew back her little feet. “Oh? Is there another good show to watch?” Following Mo Bai’s gaze, the little witch’s eyes widened. “Wait, is Senior Brother Jiu Ling in trouble?” Though she always pretended not to care about worldly matters, outside the Yuntian Sect, she still cared deeply for her fellow disciples. Now she understood—the direction those people were chasing was exactly where Senior Brother Jiu Ling had disappeared!

“Hurry, Brother Mo!” When one cares, confusion follows. Nalan Xin’er didn’t even bother putting her shoes on properly—after several failed attempts, she frowned, gave a grunt, kicked her embroidered shoes into the river, and dashed off barefoot in pursuit.

Mo Bai shook his head helplessly and turned to Wu Luohua. “Xiao Hua, how well can you swim?”

Wu Luohua rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what Mo Bai was up to. “Mo Bai, I’m a landlubber—I absolutely can’t go in the water.”

Beside her, Gan Yu said innocently, “Brother Mo, I can swim pretty well. Why do you ask?”

Wu Luohua’s face was pained. “Mo Bai, I won’t forgive you for this.” With that, Master Wu dove into the spring with a splash, off to retrieve the little witch’s embroidered shoes.

Mo Bai cupped his hands to Tian Huashan. “Brother Tian, please watch over my two friends. I’ll be back soon.”

Tian Huashan felt a weight lift from his shoulders—he had feared Mo Bai would ask him to go along. After listening to their conversation, he understood: Ouyang, that old fox, had sent people to wipe out the Yuntian Sect disciples. With the little witch Nalan Xin’er on his side and all the Nine Sects and Eighteen Gangs gathered, it would be a terribly awkward situation. So when Mo Bai asked, Tian Huashan immediately replied, “Don’t worry, Hero Mo. I’ll protect Master Wu and Miss Gan with my life.”

Mo Bai nodded and smiled, tapping his toe lightly on the ground. Tian Huashan saw only a fleeting shadow—Mo Bai had disappeared. Tian Huashan was overjoyed and thought, With an assistant like Mo Bai, how could my Haikun Gang not shine in the Lingjue tournament?

Meanwhile, Nalan Xin’er, the little witch, was dashing barefoot after Jiu Ling. Her delicate feet were fair and pink, rarely seen by anyone, but today a few idle bystanders profited from the sight. Whistles and teasing followed wherever she ran. At first, she didn’t notice, but as the catcalls grew louder and she lost track of Jiu Ling’s direction, her eyes flashed violet. Suddenly, a beam of purple light swept from her gaze, and screams echoed from both sides of the street.

How could these loafers withstand the shock of Nalan’s violet eyes? The little witch’s eyes spun sharply, her lips curving into a crescent smile as she chased northeast, following her gaze.

Mo Bai was quick to arrive; seeing the commotion around him, he knew he was on the right track. He sped up, secretly admiring how much Nalan Xin’er’s spiritual skills had improved.

“Haha! You’re not getting away today, boy. Where’s all your bravado now? This morning at Guihai Pavilion, you were so arrogant—one flash of your sword, and you cut down Linglong Xu Baozi with the Sword of Ninefold Exquisite Slashes, and you even crippled our Iron Mountain brother. Hmph, where’s your skill now?” The speaker was none other than Little Zhuge, the renowned, cunning leader of the Multi-Star Gang.

Jiu Ling’s brows furrowed as he stared at the group of Guihai City lackeys surrounding him, all wearing smug expressions. Jiu Ling seethed inwardly—he had been cautious and alert when he left, so how had he still been followed? Could it be that Huang Wan’er was in league with them? But that couldn’t be—she was a disciple of Yihua Sect, how could she collude with Guihai City?

Jiu Ling’s eyes darted about, and Little Zhuge saw right through him. Stroking his goatee, he said, “Jiu Ling, there’s no need to wonder. We know exactly how many tricks you have up your sleeve. The one who lured you out wasn’t that yellow-haired girl—it was me, your Uncle Zhuge. And the ones following you aren’t your average thugs, but Guihai City’s city guards. Do you really think you can escape? You’d best surrender.” With that, Little Zhuge laughed heartily, his pride overflowing.

Only then did Jiu Ling realize that the note he’d received earlier was a trap set by these men. He’d thought that his heroic rescue at Guihai Pavilion had won over that pretty girl from Yihua Sect, but it turned out he’d been self-deluded and fallen right into the enemy’s snare. Glancing at the encircling foes and the surrounding environment, Jiu Ling realized that they had long since prepared this ambush. If he didn’t act first, he’d be hard-pressed to escape. With that thought, he swung his arm, and a crimson spiritual array appeared before him.

Little Zhuge’s eyes flashed—he instantly realized Jiu Ling was preparing to break through. “Brothers, he’s trying to run! Don’t give him the chance—avenge Brother Xu, and teach Old Master Ouyang’s enemies a lesson!”

With a shout, weapons were drawn and spiritual energy summoned. One man surged forward with a roar, leaping at Jiu Ling. This was Tong Peng, leader of the Great Bronze Gang, known alongside Iron Mountain and two others as the Four Fierce of Guihai—Gold, Silver, Bronze, and Iron—each with their own faction, and close as brothers. Iron Mountain had been crippled that morning, leaving Tong Peng deeply grieved. But he knew his own limits; after all, the eldest disciple of Yuntian Sect, Jiu Xi, was a formidable opponent. Tong Peng dared not seek revenge personally—but now, facing Jiu Ling, it was different. He had prepared well; at Little Zhuge’s order, he was the first to charge.

Jiu Ling saw a burly man barreling toward him, about forty years old, skin like burnished bronze, eyes blazing, wielding a massive orange staff with great momentum. Even before he arrived, the staff’s spiritual energy swept toward Jiu Ling.

Impressed by his opponent’s presence, Jiu Ling thought, If that staff struck, it would be fatal. As a disciple of the Luos of Heyang, he well understood the value of skill over brute force. Surrounded as he was, quick and simple attacks were most effective. With a flick of his wrist, three shield-breaking needles shimmered within his crimson spiritual glow, transforming into three streaks of red light shooting straight at Tong Peng.

Tong Peng was fierce but not foolish—seeing Jiu Ling withdraw and send three red rays at him, he pulled his staff tight to his chest, spinning it so not even wind or rain could penetrate. The three red streaks struck with three crisp clangs and fell to the ground, revealing their true forms. Spotting them, Tong Peng cursed, “You little wretch! And you claim to be from a righteous sect? The first thing you do is use those despicable shield-breaking needles. Even we in Guihai City have more honor than that. You Yuntian Sect disciples are a disgrace!”

As he ranted, Jiu Ling only sneered silently. But at that moment, Tong Peng suddenly felt a chill shoot up from his soles, shuddering uncontrollably. In the next instant, he could no longer hold his staff—it clattered to the ground. Jiu Ling’s eyes flashed coldly, and with a swift movement, a blade of spiritual energy shot directly into Tong Peng’s undefended chest. Tong Peng spat a mouthful of blood and collapsed, dead before he hit the ground.

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