In an instant, the fragrant breeze dissipated, and the main entrance burst apart.
Everyone was stunned.
Standing at the doorway before anyone knew it was a white-robed figure. His robes fluttered without any wind, and the aura around him was chilling enough to make people panic.
Rong Xuanhe instinctively tried to check his momentum, but who could have known this body was so frail? That earlier scuffle had long since exhausted his strength, and instead of stopping as he wished, his legs went soft and he tumbled limply right into the other person’s arms.
He couldn’t see a thing; his nose pressed against a hard chest, bumping hard enough to sting a little.
A bone-chilling coldness began to spread.
The young man stiffened all over, slowly raising his head.
The person before him possessed an exceedingly striking face: long hair, white robes, of towering stature, with deep, sharp brows and eyes like an unsheathed sword.
Rong Xuanhe looked up at him in a daze, and the man stared straight back at Rong Xuanhe.
Those eyes were as cold as ice, yet at the exact moment their gazes met, a crack split open. Something leaked out from that fissure—scorching and dangerous, like a fire capable of burning everything to ashes, yet also like a towering, boundless hatred.
Before Rong Xuanhe could even react, the blood-stained tip of a sword was already pressed against his neck.
It was icy cold, carrying the stench of blood.
From head to toe, the young man stiffened into stone, not daring to move a single inch.
Was it this person who had attacked just now?
His mind went completely blank, and the bloody scent from the sword drilled persistently into his nose, making him want to vomit.
It felt as though ten thousand years had passed before the tip of the sword finally moved away.
Rong Xuanhe staggered a step backward, his voice trembling: “S-Sorry, I accidentally bumped into you, I didn’t mean to!”
He could feel that gaze still nailed ruthlessly onto him, raising goosebumps all over his back.
Why was this person so petty? Was he going to kill someone just for bumping into him? Were the people in this world all this fierce?
He hadn’t been afraid when he transmigrated here, nor had he been afraid when Young Master Li bought him, but being stared at by this person scared him half to death, terrified that he might suddenly explode into a rage and skewer him right through.
The pimp’s wails were still echoing in his ears. The madam recovered her wits, her expression looking rather unpleasant.
Young Master Li’s face darkened even further. As a regular patron of the Den of Iniquity, whenever he set his eyes on some novel plaything, he would throw money around and take them away without ever failing once. What kind of nobody was this person, daring to meddle in his affairs?
He stood up, stretching his limbs, his tone harboring a subtle warning: “Fellow Daoist, everything goes by first-come, first-served. I made the bid first.”
As he spoke, he gave a casual tug. Rong Xuanhe was jerked into a sway, and before he could steady himself, he was forcibly grabbed again by the man in white.
“You,” the white-robed man finally spoke, his voice cold and hard, “come with me.”
Go? Go where?
Young Master Li laughed in extreme anger: “The person I bought at an auction, and you want him to go with you?”
The guards of the Den of Iniquity also swarmed forward, every single one of them wearing hostile expressions, their hands already resting on their weapons.
The madam stepped down from the steps, her gaze pausing for a fraction of a second on the sword at the white-robed cultivator’s waist, and said loudly: “This young master certainly puts on quite an imposing display. Since both you and Young Master Li have taken a liking to this beauty, why not come inside and have a cup of tea?”
She waved her hand, and immediately someone dragged the pimp with the broken hand away, casually reaching out to grab Rong Xuanhe.
It didn’t budge.
The hand of the white-robed man remained completely motionless, like it was cast in iron. The lackey received a look laden with killing intent and shivered violently.
The madam’s smile stiffened. She glared at Rong Xuanhe and mouthed fiercely: Get over here.
Rong Xuanhe wanted to cry without tears. He certainly wanted to, but this man was radiating killing intent all over, giving off the illusory illusion that if he moved even a fraction, his throat would get slit.
“System, say something!”
He wailed in his mind: “Aren’t you here to rescue fallen flowers from the dust? Where are your strength and methods?”
[Beep, scanning in progress.]
Rong Xuanhe let out a slight breath of relief. At least the system could still be of some use, right?
[Upon system scanning, this person is a decent match; you can entrust yourself to him!]
“???”
Rong Xuanhe felt his mind go completely blank.
He asked in sheer disbelief: “Is this really the time to appraise a decent match?!”
He’d rather wait for it to appraise his corpse instead!
Seeing him standing dazedly on the spot with a blank expression, the madam let her face sink ungraciously: “Judging by the young master’s extraordinary attire, surely you wouldn’t do something as unseemly as accosting the top courtesan in broad daylight? If you are interested, please follow the rules of our establishment.”
The white-robed man rolled his eyes, looking coldly toward the madam: “Top courtesan?”
Those two words were pronounced very heavily by him, as if he were grinding them between his teeth. He looked back at Rong Xuanhe, asking word for word: “You are here, acting as the top courtesan?”
“Well…” Rong Xuanhe said weakly, “Is there a problem?”
The God of Slaughter narrowed his eyes to look at him.
Rong Xuanhe bit the bullet, lowering his gaze to let him look, feeling as though a blade-like gaze was scraping over him inch by inch. He had never been this nervous even during audition acting. His eyes kept fixedly watching the sword at the God of Slaughter’s waist; if the man dared to draw his sword, he would run.
[Beep, detected the presence of an affectionate lingering gaze. Please host make a pitiful reaction and earnestly beg the good match to redeem you.]
Rong Xuanhe drew in a sharp breath: “Would you like to take another look? You call this murderous aura an affectionate lingering gaze?”
He couldn’t even make up a claim like that just to pick a fight.
[Countdown of five seconds will begin shortly. Upon countdown completion, the host’s body will be forcibly controlled to react.]
Rong Xuanhe: “Can you be reasonable, you…”
The system did not give him time to speak.
[Five, four, three, two, one.]
The young man moved.
He slowly raised his head, tears pooling in his eyes, biting his lips tightly as though harboring unyielding spirit while cautiously inching toward the God of Slaughter. He reached out to tug gently at the man’s sleeve, shaking it lightly.
He cut a pitiful, sorrowful figure with words left unsaid.
Young Master Li’s face turned livid, and he let out a cold snort.
The God of Slaughter’s gaze, however, softened ever so slightly.
Rong Xuanhe’s lips trembled slightly, as if mustering up earth-shattering courage, and a thousand words ultimately condensed into just two:
“Give money.”
The God of Slaughter:
Young Master Li:
The madam:
Rong Xuanhe guiltily averted his gaze. This was already the result of his arduous struggle against the system; if he had followed the system’s exact phrasing, he would be weeping pitifully in the man’s arms right now.
The God of Slaughter’s gaze turned cold once more, and he turned to interrogate the madam: “How much?”
The madam fluttered her round fan, her spine straightening a fraction: “Easy to talk about. See how much you can bid; people here aren’t hard to take away.”
The lackey boys on both sides knowingly lifted the bead curtains. Crimson silk drapes, a fragrant breeze of beauty, and an air of romantic extravagance rushed forth to greet them.
Perhaps it was Rong Xuanhe’s imagination, but he felt the God of Slaughter’s gaze turn slightly colder still.
He shrank his neck, and just as he was about to follow behind the madam, a sword swept across horizontally, blocking his path.
The young man stopped his steps abruptly, almost crashing into it, and unbalanced, he took two steps back.
He glanced at the God of Slaughter with trepidation. What was the meaning of this?
The madam’s smile vanished: “What is the guest’s intention?”
“I’ll count to three,” the white-robed man said coldly. “Name a price. I’m taking him.”
The madam completely lost her smile. Her face clad in frost, she struck out with her round fan: “I call you an esteemed guest to show you respect, but you don’t even open your eyes to see whose turf this is! Anyone who steps through this old lady’s door must abide by the rules of the Den of Iniquity!”
Simultaneously, a massive wave of pressure spread outward from the depths of the building.
Rong Xuanhe found it somewhat hard to breathe, pressing a hand to his chest as he let out a muffled groan.
The white-robed cultivator intercepted the round fan with a single hand, repeating the exact same words: “Name your price.”
The madam cast a cold glance at Rong Xuanhe, who was trying to slip away in the chaos, and crooked her finger. The spiritual chains tightened in response: “Young master, if you want to buy someone, fine, step inside and bid. If you refuse to name a price and just want to rob someone by force…”
“Don’t blame me for not showing any courtesy!”
The white-robed cultivator didn’t even lift an eyelid: “Just by virtue of that old dog inside the building?”
As soon as these words fell, the entire hall erupted in an uproar.
The madam sneered: “What an arrogant tone!”
The guests in the hall immediately broke into heated discussions.
“What’s this guy’s background? So unbridled in his speech?”
“That sword at his waist looks a bit familiar… Hiss, why does it look kind of like the one belonging to…”
“Young Master Li is probably going to take a hit this time.”
“When can he always carry the beauty home every single time? It’s about time he was taught a lesson, though the Li family isn’t someone to mess with. This fellow probably doesn’t know the immensity of heaven and earth.”
Seeing the hall descend into chaos, the madam’s voice suddenly pitched higher: “All of you have seen it; it’s not that I’m unreasonable. This young master refuses to bid upon entering and refuses to abide by the rules—he’s here to smash the place! The Den of Iniquity has been open for hundreds of years, and we have never tolerated such people!”
The moment her words landed, the magical artifacts of the men in black all lit up in unison.
In the corner of the main hall, a certain old cultivator who had remained silent all this time also lifted his head, his turbid gaze locking onto that white-robed figure.
The atmosphere stretched taut to its absolute limit.
Standing to the side, Rong Xuanhe felt his legs turning somewhat weak.
He noticed that Young Master Li had quietly sidestepped several paces away, putting some distance between himself and the eye of the storm, yet he showed no intention of leaving—plainly meaning to watch how this God of Slaughter wrapped things up.
The young man’s mind spun at lightning speed. At this critical juncture, he was actually a bit calmer than before.
The madam refused to yield; the Den of Iniquity surely had powerful guardian bigwigs and backing from various factions. The God of Slaughter possessed strength… presumably he did—totally disdainful of following the rules of the Den of Iniquity. With neither side willing to back down, a fight was only a matter of time.
And he, an ordinary person bound without a shred of cultivation, caught right in the middle, was nothing more than an innocent fish suffering when a city gate goes up in flames.
Regardless of who won, he would not be the one to come out ahead.
Rong Xuanhe’s gaze swept across both sides.
On the left was the curtain leading to the back hall; the bead strings had already been blown away, blocking nothing at all. On the right was the staircase leading up. His hands were still bound by spiritual chains, with the links grasped in the madam’s hands—he wouldn’t make it far running.
But if he charged into the back hall during the fight, found a window to vault out of, and played a game of hiding in plain sight…
Rong Xuanhe’s heart pounded heavily: “Xiao Du, Xiao Du, map out the latest escape route for me.”
[The system is not a navigation device.]
[Furthermore, this system is not named Xiao Du.]
“Tch, even more useless than me.”
Just as the young man was calculating, a cold chuckle suddenly reached his ears.
The sound rolled into his ears with a slightly chilling sensation. He instinctively tilted his head, seeing the white-robed God of Slaughter slightly raise his chin, glancing at the words “Tianhuan Tower” overhead, and speaking indifferently: “A century-old signboard. It’d be a pity to smash it.”
With that, his hand gripped the scabbard, curling his knuckles to push the blade slightly out of its sheath by an inch.
Nothing appeared.
No silvery-white sword qi, no flashy special effects, but the next second, the swords hanging at the waists of every single cultivator in the building vibrated violently in unison.
The sharp, shrill ringing of swords was enough to pierce the eardrums. Several cultivators with lower cultivation levels covered their ears on the spot, their faces turning deathly pale.
Hum.
Instead of ignoring the spiritual pressure, he met the pressure head-on and forcibly unleashed a tidal wave of sword rings!
The look in the old man’s eyes in the corner changed. He abruptly stood up, his pupils locked fixedly onto the sword at the white-robed cultivator’s waist, as if he had only just recognized what it was.
Before the madam could speak, he voiced out, his voice hoarse and raspy.
“Fifty thousand!”
Many guests stared at him in astonishment, and the madam furrowed her brows even deeper.
Yet that old man flickered his hand, unexpectedly withdrawing his spiritual pressure ahead of everyone else.
Coughing twice, he said: “Fifty thousand spirit stones, take the person away.”
“This old man is not afraid of you. You know in your heart how much the signboard of the Den of Iniquity is worth.”
The white-robed cultivator loosened his grip. The blade slid back into its sheath, and the ringing vanished in an instant without a trace, as if it had never happened at all.
He spoke coldly: “Does this word hold?”
“Naturally it holds.” The old man shook his head, a trace of sentimentality unexpectedly coloring his tone: “A sword capable of making all the swords in the entire arena ring out together, you probably won’t find a second one within five hundred years. Even if the master of the house learns of this, he won’t blame me for making this executive decision.”
Hunching his shoulders, the moment he turned around, his figure faded away like ink dissolving in water.
Seeing this, the madam steadied herself, recovering the shrewd demeanor of a businesswoman: “Money and goods exchanged, no credit given.”
The white-robed cultivator glanced at her, retrieved a storage ring from his sleeve, and casually tossed it over.
A conflict was thus invisibly defused.
Catching the ring, the madam breathed a trace of a sigh without leaving a trace, her face piling back up with smiles: “The young master is generous! The person belongs to you!”
Clapping her hands, a lackey immediately delivered a small box, though what was packed inside remained unknown.
Without sparing her another look, the white-robed cultivator stowed the box away into his storage ring and turned around.
Watching him draw step by step closer, Rong Xuanhe felt his legs glued to the spot; not a single one of the escape routes he had just planned in his head could be executed.
For some reason, every time he met those eyes, his legs grew unbearably weak, as if he owed this person something in a past life. It was embarrassing to say out loud, but his body simply refused to cooperate.
The white-robed cultivator reached out toward him, and he instinctively forced an awkward smile at the other party.
To his surprise, the man merely grasped his wrist, squeezing gently. The spiritual chains shattered into several fragments, clattering as they dropped onto the ground.
[Congratulations to the host for successfully escaping the sea of bitterness! Next up is entering the good match observation period; the system will provide professional guidance so that you and the good match can foster a more solid relationship.]
“Who wants this?!”
Rong Xuanhe rolled his eyes internally, letting out a long breath as he flexed his wrists, which had been rubbed red.
Cautiously raising his eyes toward the white-robed cultivator, he saw that the man’s hand had already clamped onto his waist.
The reason it was called clamping rather than holding was because his entire person was lifted up, both feet off the ground, tucked sideways under this person’s arm like a package.
Rong Xuanhe:
Perhaps he should just go back and dance instead.