Xie Lingjun stared directly at Fu Yun, without any pretense or guilt. Realizing he couldn’t out-argue Fu Yun, he stopped wasting words.
Clever talk and verbal battles were meaningless.
In the end, Fu Yun had narrowly won this fight though the “narrow” here was more about cunning than skill. But in war, all stratagems were fair.
Fu Yun demanded the healing treasures from Xie Lingjun’s storage pouch, along with over a dozen bottles of medicinal ointments. Xie Lingjun frowned. “This isn’t enough.” He then removed his deep blue sword tassel.
It was a defensive artifact capable of withstanding a full-force strike from a Mahayana-stage cultivator.
“If one day you come to your senses, bring this tassel to the Xie family. I will repay the debt of tonight’s guidance.”
Fu Yun’s hand was already reaching out, but he spoke politely, “If I take this, your sword hilt will be bare.”
“No need to worry, Senior Brother. I have many sword tassels.”
Even though the one he gave Fu Yun was his favorite, the one he had used the longest.
After a moment’s thought, Xie Lingjun added, “You are agile and clever, well-suited for swift sword techniques. Most talisman and formation cultivators lack solid foundations and endurance, limiting their potential. The sword path integrates offense and defense, excelling at both close and long range. I hope you choose your path carefully.”
How annoying these young sword cultivators were.
Fu Yun gave a thin, insincere smile and grunted in response it sounded more like a cold snort.
At this point, Xie Lingjun and Fu Yun had nothing more to say to each other. Just as Xie Lingjun was about to leave, Fu Yun stopped him. “Junior Brother Lingjun, I also have a word for you.”
With someone like Xie Lingjun, if you didn’t defeat him, you weren’t qualified to offer advice. But if you did defeat him, even if you spoke nonsense, he would have to listen with a sour expression.
“Not everyone has a path to walk,” Fu Yun said. “And not everyone has to walk the same path as you.”
After a few breaths, Xie Lingjun replied, “I’ll remember that.”
After he left, only the wind, flowers, and moonlight remained.
During the fight, his hair crown had loosened. Fu Yun untied it and tossed it aside. He washed a wooden branch with water-element spiritual energy, tied up his hair, and secured it in place. Then he began taking stock of his spoils.
The Xie family truly lived up to their reputation as a great clan. The medicinal ointments and artifacts were first-rate. The more Fu Yun examined them, the more pleased he became. Sensing his mood, the wooden hairpin bloomed with even more flowers.
Suddenly, he heard a noise from behind and paused.
Footsteps approached from his rear. Xie Lingjun had returned. “Senior Brother Fu Yun, there’s unusual movement five hundred meters southeast of the camp. The spiritual energy fluctuations are abnormal something might be wrong.”
He tilted his chin, signaling for Fu Yun to follow him and investigate.
Xie Lingjun strode ahead, with Fu Yun trailing a few steps behind. Glancing at the smooth neck of the person in front, Fu Yun suddenly launched a sneak attack. Unfortunately, the other’s cultivation level seemed higher than his. The figure only grunted from the blow, without sustaining serious injury.
Xie Lingjun turned around, shocked and furious. “Senior Brother Fu, what is the meaning of this?!”
Fu Yun had already retreated several meters. He thought to himself, That kid would never call me “Senior Brother Fu.”
Xie Lingjun either addressed him directly as “you” or simply as “Senior Brother,” never bothering to include his surname.
But that was only a secondary clue. The key was the other’s unblemished neck.
Fu Yun had cut Xie Lingjun’s throat earlier, but Xie Lingjun usually didn’t bother healing such minor wounds, let alone removing scars.
The illusion dissipated, revealing a man dressed in moon-white gauze robes, with an enchanting, almost demonic face.
A barrier of spiritual energy blocked Fu Yun’s escape.
Fu Yun observed the flow of spiritual energy around him Nascent Soul stage, but the aura was unstable and fluctuating.
In the secret realm where disciples from various sects trained together, Fu Yun observed the man’s words and actions, speculating about his identity: “A disciple of the Joyful Union Sect? Are you planning to drain me?”
In an instant, the man closed the distance between them. “What draining? It’s dual cultivation. The moonlight is lovely tonight. Why not join me in practicing the Joyful Secret Art and share in the ultimate pleasure?”
Fu Yun’s eyes flickered.
The man’s words were laced with seductive techniques, enchanting and disorienting. Fu Yun struggled briefly but ultimately succumbed to the temptation, involuntarily leaning closer.
The man’s smile deepened, but before he could seize his prey, a blade of spiritual light shot toward his throat. By the time he dodged and looked up again, Fu Yun was already several zhang away.
Unfortunately, the gap between Golden Core and Nascent Soul was a major realm. Fu Yun barely managed to release a spiritual bird to call for help before the man intercepted his escape route.
The man asked, “How did you break free from my seductive technique?”
Fu Yun stalled for time with idle talk. “Perhaps because you’re too ugly.”
The man laughed in anger. “What a sharp tongue! I originally planned to use you once and then grant you a swift death. But now. I’ll turn you into a human swine, leaving only your tongue!”
“To think the Joyful Union Sect would produce a wicked cultivator like you!” Fu Yun declared righteously, a recording stone flashing within his sleeve.
The man chuckled. “What of it? Among the five great immortal sects today, which one hasn’t risen atop piles of corpses? The plaques of immortal sects are no different from the signs of brothels!”
Fu Yun moved with agility, dodging without engaging, infuriating the Joyful Union disciple, who cursed him repeatedly as a “coward!”
Their chase led them near the Moonlight Tree. Fu Yun smiled faintly. “Take a look at yourself.”
The man had no intention of lowering his guard. He continued his assault, aiming directly for Fu Yun’s dantian. Unable to evade a full-force strike from a Nascent Soul cultivator, Fu Yun shuddered, coughing up blood.
Seeing him weakened, the man finally spared a sliver of spiritual energy to probe his own chest.
The wooden branch that had lain dormant behind him for so long sensed the foreign spiritual energy and instantly pierced through him.
The man slowly lowered his head, gazing at the blood-stained branch protruding from his chest and a hand.
Fu Yun hadn’t expected this cultivator to be so weak.
He intended to crush the man’s Golden Core but found nothing there. The man pleaded, “It hurts Stop stirring. I’m only at Foundation Establishment. I temporarily boosted my cultivation through draining…”
Fu Yun sighed softly. “Draining techniques are ultimately not the righteous path.”
The man laughed. “As expected of an immortal sect disciple, you speak so lightly! Do you know I was born a cauldron slave? If I hadn’t joined the Joyful Union Sect, I would have died long ago on someone’s ”
His smile was both enchanting and tragic. Fu Yun snapped out of his momentary daze and slapped the man. “Stop using seductive techniques on me.”
“Why target me?” Although the Joyful Union Sect was known for its flamboyant ways, they wouldn’t dare directly confront a major immortal sect.
The man grinned playfully. “Because you’re beautiful. Your bone structure is excellent. Even your skeleton would be lovely after death.”
Fu Yun remained calm. “Hand over the draining technique, and I’ll spare you the agony of soul-searching.”
The man’s smile vanished, replaced by a flicker of fear, struggle, and hesitation before settling into calm resignation.
“The sect showed me kindness Say no more. Just do it.”
Fu Yun placed his hand on the man’s forehead and, as his last breath faded searched his soul.
A flood of chaotic information and fragmented memories poured into Fu Yun’s mind. Unmoved, he extracted one draining secret technique after another.
Unfortunately, this disciple had come to the practice halfway and never had the chance to learn more advanced dual cultivation techniques. Unable to withstand the soul-searching, his memories gradually grew chaotic, breaking off entirely when he reached the part about discussing with his teammates to intercept disciples from other sects first bedding them, then killing them.
Fu Yun only stopped after thoroughly extracting the dual cultivation techniques.
The man still had a faint breath left, murmuring repeatedly: “The past life is but a trace, the next life a new path.”
“Past life a trace, next life a path,” Fu Yun whispered the words once. “If there is no path in this life, why seek it in the next?” With that, he crushed the soul, eliminating any possibility of possession.
Fu Yun closed the man’s unfocused eyes.
In the end, he still left a wisp of remnant soul, allowing it to proceed to the next life.
The moonlight was pale and ghastly, outlining Fu Yun’s calm yet chilling silhouette. The blood splattered beneath his eyes added an eerie allure, yet when he lowered his gaze, his expression was almost dignified and solemn.
While disposing of the body, Fu Yun suddenly felt a sharp pain in his hand.
It was a small vine demon hidden on the man’s body, currently in its flowering phase. Rows of sharp thorns within the tiny buds, like teeth, pierced through the fleshy part of Fu Yun’s hand between the thumb and index finger, immediately taking root and sprouting, threatening to penetrate his entire palm.
“Hmm?” After dealing with the vine demon, Fu Yun examined the substance it had released.
It seemed like pollen, dissolving into the mist the moment it was expelled. Fu Yun reached out and guided a wisp of the pollen-laden mist toward himself. Surprisingly, it caused a brief dizziness.
Mist perpetually lingered everywhere in the secret realm, something cultivators had grown accustomed to, and Fu Yun hadn’t paid it much attention.
Now, it appeared this mist was anything but ordinary. It seemed to require mixing with the pollen of demonic beasts to induce hallucinations.
As Fu Yun studied the mist, the system spoke up: “Host, get a little closer to the pollen mist. I can scan its components!”
A few minutes later. “The mist itself isn’t just hallucinogenic, but when mixed with pollen, it produces several hallucinogenic substances. You wouldn’t know their names even if I told you, but basically, they affect people’s nerves… uh, their brains.”
So the pollen only became effective when combined with the mist.
But the mist was unique to the secret realm. Even if collected, it would likely dissipate once taken out.
Fu Yun lightly flicked a fire talisman onto the corpse of the Joyful Union Sect disciple, then surrounded the area with a water barrier to prevent the fire from spreading through the forest and drawing attention.
The system, both fearful and curious, asked, “You’re really skilled at killing people, huh?”
Fu Yun replied, “When you’ve done enough dirty work, you naturally become proficient.”
His utterly matter-of-fact tone sent a shiver through the system.
The ashes mingled with the soil, leaving no trace. After carefully inspecting the area, Fu Yun finally stood up, ready to return to camp.
The wind had ceased, the leaves were still, and the mist flowed slowly under the tranquil moonlight.
Only the startled cries of birds, the crisp snapping of branches, and the rustling of grass broke the silence.
The moment he turned, Fu Yun hurled a wooden branch toward the forest from which the startled birds had flown. Mid-flight, the branch seemed to hit an invisible wall, bouncing off and falling to the ground.
Someone was there.
Fu Yun’s pupils contracted slightly. Having expended too much spiritual energy today, he had no desire for another fight and immediately planned to retreat. Yet, a heavy pressure descended, enveloping him.
The newcomer meant no good.
Fu Yun curled his palm, hiding the wound, while a smile spread across his face. He raised his voice and called out, “The moonlight is splendid tonight. Why not show yourself, fellow cultivator, and bask in this clear radiance, washing away the shadows you carry?”
The air began to twist and ripple, like a reflection in water disturbed by a tossed stone. A figure emerged from the void ripples, growing from faint to solid.
If it were someone from another sect, at most an apology and sharing the spoils would suffice. If it were a member of the Joyful Union Sect, someone who had watched their own disciple be killed from the sidelines, there might still be room for negotiation.
But this person was.
The spiritual pressure from the other side felt like frost-covered pine needles cold and piercing. Fu Yun slowly uttered the name “Xie Yun.”