Fu Zhumei fell silent as the iron prison cart came to a halt. Someone lifted the entire iron cage, straining to move it inward. He silently counted the number of people—eighteen in total—shifting the heavy iron box. With a loud shout, the cart jolted violently, the instruments of torture inside clattering noisily as the cage was slammed heavily onto the ground. The eighteen men stepped back a few paces, drew their weapons, and formed a circle around the iron prison cage.
A-Li was severely injured, and he himself was shackled—yet these people were still being so cautious.
Ah, right—A-Li was severely injured. But how could he be so badly hurt? Logically, any injury on him should heal quickly! Fu Zhumei suddenly realized he had been led completely astray from the main point. He had only spoken of his own ordeal, not a single word about A-Li’s.
Just as Fu Zhumei strained to peer through the darkness, trying to discern what had happened to Tang Lichen, the iron cage creaked open on all sides.
The four iron walls of their prison slowly swung outward.
Light poured in from all directions, illuminating every detail—the bloodstains on the iron frame and the fine hairs on their bodies.
Squinting in the harsh light, Fu Zhumei finally saw clearly—Tang Lichen was clad in red.
Clad in red, his injuries were indiscernible, but layers of dried blood had turned half his crimson robe black.
Like Fu Zhumei, he was suspended from the frame by shackles, his hands and feet locked in place with poisoned spiked chains, several Major Acupoints pierced by long needles to block his qi.
Yet A-Li raised his head, looking at the figure approaching the cage with a faint, mocking smile.
"Abbot Chunhui, long time no see."
The gaunt old man approaching slowly wore cloth shoes and monk’s robes, his skin dark, his eyes sharp and bright—Abbot Chunhui of Tianqing Temple. Beside him stood a bald man in a yellow robe, whom Fu Zhumei recognized.
This was the man who, while Fu Zhumei was desperately trying to save Xue Xianzi, had stood by making cold remarks, leading Xue Xianzi to shatter his own skull—and Fu Zhumei, devastated, had been captured in his moment of distraction.
Next to the yellow-robed man stood a woman in green robes, her face veiled in black gauze, silent.
Though she said nothing, Fu Zhumei recognized her at a glance—Zhong Chunji.
This was Xue Xianzi’s own daughter, the renowned heroine of the martial world, Zhong Chunji.
Abbot Chunhui clasped his hands together at the bloodied Tang Lichen. "Amitabha. This old monk renounced his position as abbot years ago and is no longer part of the Buddhist order." Though he claimed to have left the clergy long ago, he still wore monk’s robes, still chanted Buddhist prayers—who knew if he was deceiving others or himself.
"Oh? Abbot Chunhui left the clergy years ago? Who, then, is the newly appointed abbot of Tianqing Temple?" Tang Lichen asked softly.
Chunhui sighed. "There is no new abbot." He looked at Tang Lichen, his gaze almost kind and serene. "Young Master Tang, do you know on what day this old monk left the clergy?"
The chains on Tang Lichen clinked faintly as he sighed. "The day Liu Yan stormed into Tianqing Temple with the Wangsheng Pu ."
Chunhui smiled faintly. "Young Master Tang is astute." He turned to the yellow-robed man. "This gentleman is—" He paused slightly, and the yellow-robed man spoke up himself. "This one’s surname is Huang. You may call me Xie Yaohuang or Huang Yaoxie." He bowed slightly to Tang Lichen. "Had Young Master Tang not forced Master Fang to study the Wangsheng Pu , how could we—mere dust and chaff, blunt knives and feeble horses—ever have dreamed of wielding such earth-shattering arts to gain the power for revenge?"Tang Lizhi asked slowly, "Revenge? For whom?" He stared at "Xie Yaohuang," "If it's for the former dynasty's Chai family, why did you sow discord and massacre Baiyungou? Were the people of Baiyungou not loyal to the Chai family? Did they not wish to restore the kingdom?"
"After the late emperor's tragic demise, all who remained loyal to the Chai family longed for revenge and restoration," the yellow-robed man who called himself "Xie Yaohuang" or "Huang Yaoxie" spoke slowly. "And none are unfit for the task of restoration. Baiyungou stubbornly supported the Sixth Prince, but that wolf-hearted, dog-lunged wretch harbored no thoughts for his fallen kingdom. As we pursued our great cause, Baiyungou, bound by Chai blood ties, would inevitably oppose us. By eliminating Baiyungou first, Chai Xijin could be made to serve our purpose. Surely you understand this, Young Master Tang?" He fixed his gaze on Tang Lizhi. "With your brilliance and wisdom, you should be my soulmate in this world."
Fu Zhumei stared blankly at this enemy, utterly bewildered by his words. He actually called A'Li his soulmate? He understood nothing! A'Li... he wasn't like that at all.
"With Mr. Xie's intelligence, was inviting Tang here merely to find a soulmate?" Tang Lizhi smiled faintly. "You harbor grand ambitions of restoration, possessing rare poisons and divine arts—why not raise an army and act openly, instead of lurking behind Fengliudian and Shaolin Temple?"
"I wish to invite Young Master Tang to join our cause. What say you?" The yellow-robed man spoke calmly. "Arms are instruments of ill omen, to be used only when necessary. As a noble of the current court, peerlessly brilliant and discerning, you would make an ideal soulmate for me."
When he spoke of "my soulmate," it might have sounded sincere—if Tang Lizhi weren't shackled in an iron cage, covered in blood, and if he hadn't just glanced back at Fu Zhumei, into whom some unknown poison had been injected.
Tang Lizhi pondered briefly before coughing lightly. Fu Zhumei could hear the blood in his lungs and was terrified beyond measure. What did this... bizarre person before them actually want? He vaguely sensed the man was forcing A'Li into some earth-shattering scheme, though he couldn't fathom what.
"You've infiltrated Shaolin Temple and subdued Abbot Puzhu because Shaolin is extremely close to the capital and has always been the nation-protecting temple—'Hu Deng Ling' Wang Lingqiu lurked there for over twenty years, eliminating Shaolin as your obstacle," Tang Lizhi said slowly. "Yet our dynasty's wars have just ended, troops remain mobilized, and the people abhor further conflict. To restore your kingdom—you lack both military strength and popular support. Even if the 'Wangsheng Manual' could forge an extraordinary force from the Martial Arts World, against the capital's two hundred thousand imperial guards, it would be like throwing eggs against stones. You couldn't even withstand the imperial secret service's tens of thousands of spies. Even if you spread the Nine Hearts Pill poison among the imperial guards and secret service, without extraordinary strategy, it would be like trying to extinguish a burning cartload of firewood with a cup of water—utterly futile." Finally, he raised his head and straightened his back, staring intently at this mysterious yellow-robed figure before him. "So you—""Master Tang truly is my confidant." The man in yellow robes laughed heartily, "Hahaha..." He strode forward, gripping Tang Licizhi's chin and lifting his face from the torture device. "So what I need is a great battle—the bigger, the better. It doesn’t matter who wins or loses—I need a great battle! A plague! I need many people to die—preferably, many good people!" He tightened his grip on Tang Licizhi’s throat. "Enough deaths to make the local troops lose control of the situation, forcing the capital to dispatch the imperial army to quell the chaos. Tell me, where do you think the poison of 'Queen Bee Congealed Frost' and the 'Nine Hearts Pill' will be used?"
Tang Licizhi licked the blood in his mouth and struggled slightly backward. The slippery blood allowed his neck to slip free from the yellow-robed man’s grasp. Calmly, he asked, "Where will they be used?"
The yellow-robed man looked at Tang Licizhi, whose face was smeared with blood, feeling an immense satisfaction. With a sinister grin, he replied, "Naturally, they’ll be used on those who deserve it... Imagine thousands of mindless monsters chasing and biting the living, rotting corpses writhing on the ground—among them, perhaps some deranged martial arts masters, maybe even the precious princess he dotes on. Wouldn’t that be enough to compel His Majesty to mobilize the cavalry or infantry to suppress the chaos?"
"A calamity of unprecedented scale," Tang Licizhi remarked. "With the capital’s defenses shifting and garrisons reduced, new faces wouldn’t raise suspicion. And you—you just need one opportunity."
Using disaster as bait to force the capital to redeploy troops, infiltrating the palace amidst the chaos of the imperial army, rallying under the banner of Chai Xijin, and relying on the sinister techniques of the "Rebirth Score" to pressure the current emperor to restore the throne to the Chai family. If the plan failed, the numerous experts cultivated over the years by Tianqing Temple and Fengliudian could still wage war in the capital.
If it succeeded, this so-called "avenger," Master Xie, would wield the power to rule the world.
This was the shadow behind Fengliudian.
So shallow, so vile, so cowardly, so insane, and so utterly self-righteous.
Fu Zhumei finally understood. He just couldn’t comprehend—why had so many people died for this madman’s delusion without even knowing the reason? And this lunatic had never considered that everyone has their own choices. No one would act according to his twisted logic just because of his wild fantasies.
This man had merely unleashed a nightmare... one that no one could stop.
Fengliudian wouldn’t act according to his designs—Yu Konghou wouldn’t, Bai Suche wouldn’t either. They were merely borrowing strength from this madman to pursue their own paths.
The Central Plains Sword Assembly wouldn’t either. Those with firm convictions and beliefs rarely made choices based on someone else’s "schemes," because they all had their own ideas.
He watched as Tang Licizhi listened to this madman’s grandiose plan, the corners of his eyes slightly curved. "Your calculations are flawless. So, what exactly do you propose to collaborate with me on?"
"You and I will work together to turn the battle at Soul Prayer Mountain into a bloodbath, filling it with demons and monsters. Once the imperial army mobilizes... I’ll help you slaughter Fengliudian inside and out, clearing your name of any association with evil, and making you the foremost figure in the Martial Arts World." The yellow-robed man continued, "Master Tang has spent his fortune and traveled thousands of miles—isn’t it all to stand above all others and be revered by the masses? I’ll help you reach the summit, and you’ll help me achieve my grand ambition. And you—all you need to do is ensure the Central Plains Sword Assembly sends more forces to Wandering Eyebrow Manor and recall the antidote crafted by Liu Yan.""Do I not need to persuade my father to assist you in restoring the kingdom?" Tang Lizhi coughed again, still wearing that half-smile.
"Persuade? Assist?" The yellow-robed man burst into laughter. "Is he even worthy?"
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