The horse's mane flew wildly as Tang Lici spurred his steed into a frenzied gallop, his sleeves flapping like banners in the wind.
The distance between Jiang Family Manor at Ox Head Mountain and Soul Prayer Mountain's Drifting Eyebrow Garden spanned a thousand li—a journey impossible to complete in ten days with just one man and one horse.
But Tang Lici was faster than the fastest steed.
Setting out from Soul Prayer Mountain, he first rode from horse to horse until there were no more horses to change. Then he continued on foot at breakneck speed.
Even the swiftest horse, galloping without rest, would take five days to reach Jiang Family Manor. Yet Tang Lici arrived in just two.
Besides riding, he also leaped off cliffs.
Along the way, he encountered numerous towering peaks and precipices. Without hesitation, he scaled the heights and then plunged downward, the crimson silk ribbon at his waist unfurling in the wind—vivid as blood, radiant as sunset clouds, seemingly stretching to the heavens.
Over those two days, many mountain villagers witnessed a flash of red vanishing into the abyss amid the white clouds and misty peaks. It resembled both a mystical mountain apparition and a spectral haunting, giving rise to tales of the Mountain Wraith.
By the time he reached Jiang Family Manor, the raging flames had already died down, leaving only smoldering embers that sent wisps of black smoke curling into the air. The courtyard walls had collapsed, and charred corpses littered the ground. As Tang Lici approached slowly, he saw two dead men at the center of the ruins—one lying prone, the other seated upright.
Mo Ziru's blood had long since dried to a dark brown. His body and sword bore a gruesome array of wounds—slashes, palm strikes, and poison—so numerous that Tang Lici couldn't determine which had ultimately killed him. Any one of them could have been fatal.
Mo Ziru lay sprawled on the ground, his sword thrust through Shui Duopo's heart.
In contrast to Mo Ziru, Shui Duopo, seated serenely beside him, bore almost no injuries apart from the fatal wound to his chest. His long hair cascaded over his shoulders as he sat with eyes closed, leaning on his sword. A faint trace of blood lingered at the corner of his lips, though it had been meticulously wiped clean. Given Shui Duopo's martial prowess and medical expertise, even a sword through the heart shouldn't have killed him instantly.
Yet for some reason, Shui Duopo was dead—and judging by his expression, he had died in perfect peace.
Tang Lici stood frozen before the two men.
Apart from these two corpses—and countless enemy dead—there was no one else left.
Liu Yan, Yu Tuan'er, the three hundred disciples... and even Pu Zhu, whom he had entrusted to Mo Ziru and Shui Duopo—all had vanished without a trace.
Tang Lici stared at Mo Ziru and Shui Duopo, his eyes filled with profound confusion, as if grappling with a thousand unanswered questions—or perhaps as if he had already understood something, yet couldn't bring himself to believe it. The drifting smoke brushed past, staining his exquisite crimson robes... Today, he had chosen to wear red.
Red as blood.
Now sullied by the ashes of devastation.
A long moment passed before he suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood before the two corpses.
"Ha!" A faint, mocking laugh echoed from the distance. "To think the day would come when Young Master Tang is driven to rage-induced illness—what a rare spectacle. I doubt Mo Chunfeng and Shui Qiqi ever dreamed that besides slaughter and psychological torment, Tang Lici actually possesses a shred of genuine feeling."
Wiping the blood from his lips, Tang Lici turned. His cheeks were flushed, his complexion seemingly healthy—as if the blood he had just spat bore no relation to him at all. With a faint smile, he said, "Sir has been waiting here for me for quite some time, it seems."
On the ground lay the corpse of "Gui Mudan," yet from the smoldering ruins emerged another Gui Mudan, clad in a black robe embroidered with intricate patterns.
The mask on his face was dusted with ash, confirming that he had indeed been waiting here for a long while—though he himself remained oblivious to it."I never believed that someone as astute as Young Master Tang would allow Liu Yan to pass on the antidote and method for the Nine Hearts Pill to so many insignificant youths," Gui Mudan said with a sinister tone. "Liu Yan and his three hundred disciples are hardly inconspicuous. I suspect Young Master Tang either pulled off a grand deception or set a trap. But seeing your fury today, the antidote and method... could they actually be real?" He threw his head back and laughed. "Hahahaha, did you truly believe Mo Chunfeng and Shui Qiqi could protect Liu Yan and those three hundred children? 'Tattered Robes' Mo Chunfeng, 'Sword Emperor' Shui Qiqi—had it been twenty years ago, had Shui Qiqi not been poisoned, their presence would indeed have been an impenetrable fortress. But now?" Gui Mudan sneered at Tang Licí. "They're dead."
Tang Licí's face flushed with anger. Hearing Gui Mudan's words, he sighed softly and murmured, "This is indeed the first time in my life I've misplaced my trust..." He raised his eyes to meet Gui Mudan's gaze. "Had I known Senior Shui was afflicted with a deadly poison, I would never have made such arrangements. But even in death, those two upheld their promise—they protected Liu Yan and the antidote for the Nine Hearts Pill." He spoke slowly, "Three hundred youths capable of countering the Nine Hearts Pill's poison, scattered into the martial world... at least a few will survive and master the antidote. From now on, the martial world will no longer suffer under the Poison Affliction of Fengliudian. The two seniors died, but not in vain."
"Compared to 'freeing the martial world from Fengliudian's Poison Affliction,' making Young Master Tang miscalculate is a far worthier death," Gui Mudan snarled. "Rest assured, I won't spare a single one—neither Liu Yan nor those three hundred brats."
Tang Licí extended his hand. Gui Mudan took a step back, expecting an attack, but instead, Tang Licí steadied himself by gripping the sword Shui Duopo had been leaning on, swaying slightly. Gui Mudan was taken aback. Had it been anyone else showing such weakness, he would have struck without hesitation. But seeing Tang Licí wobble while holding onto a sword, he retreated another step after the first.
Noticing Gui Mudan's retreat, Tang Licí smiled faintly. "More than Liu Yan, I’d like to know where Xue Xianzi and the Imperial Plum Blossom Saber have gone." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "You didn’t come from Haoyun Mountain—the one who did lies dead on the ground. Both of us arrived too late, missing the final act here." His gaze sharpened. "The deaths of the two seniors were unexpected—not just by me, but by you as well... Care to elaborate, Ghost Venerable? What was your original plan for 'Tattered Robes Mo Chunfeng' and 'Sword Emperor'? Did you send 'Lamp Summoner' to do the deed, or..." He lifted Shui Duopo's sword gently and murmured, "Was it 'Requiem Score'?"Gui Mudan wore a mask, making it impossible to discern any change in his expression. Yet in an instant, the aura around him shifted subtly. Tang Lichen slowly raised his sword, his grip seemingly unsteady—the blade trembled erratically, its gleam flickering and elusive.
"Nine Hearts Pill, the leather-winged men, the 'Ghostly Pearl Breath' of Kuang Lanwuxing, Yu Konghou and Fu Cui's 'This Body Is Not My Own'... the art of plucking strings to seize lives... You—or rather, 'you all'—obtained The Rebirth Tome from Liu Yan. That is a wicked scripture." Tang Lichen spoke slowly. " The Kaputibhumi Rebirth Tome records bizarre and sinister techniques, every manner of evil from murder to arson. Practicing too much of it drives one mad... Yet it is far too alluring. It grants one limitless power..." His voice softened. "Once a person becomes omnipotent, does madness even matter?"
"Young Master Tang knows much about The Rebirth Tome . The only pity is that the version you’ve seen consists of a single volume, whereas I have laid eyes upon three." Gui Mudan burst into laughter. "Bai Nanzhu defied all morality to steal one volume from Ye Xianchou’s study, yet he never realized that accursed place held two more. Bai Nanzhu’s volume was merely the foundation."
Tang Lichen held his sword, its blade still trembling incessantly. With a light cough, he asked quietly, "I know the first volume—you obtained it from Liu Yan. But where did the other two come from?"
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