Suffering and Hardship

"Brother Lü! Hang in there!"

"Old Lü, stay strong. I'm taking you back to Yanxia Town right now."

Holding Lü Lianshun, whose mouth continuously gurgled with blood, Yang Lingrui circulated his cultivation method, channeling spiritual power into the old man's body.

During the moonlight strike just moments ago, Lü Lianshun had thrown himself forward to shove Yang Lingrui out of the way. Now, everything below his abdomen had been completely obliterated by the blast.

Were it not for a Spring-Returning Pill forcibly sustaining his last breath, he would have died on the spot.

"Second Young Master... Second Young Master... do not waste your effort, cough..."

Lü Lianshun struggled to focus his dilating pupils. Looking up at Yang Lingrui, he gasped, "I do not ask the main family for favoritism... I only hope... cough, cough... I hope the Lü Clan can survive. That child Fang Xuan... his nature is not bad. I beg the main family... do not abandon him... cough, cough..."

Yang Lingrui firmly gripped Lü Lianshun's hand. Sorrow touched his brow; his heart was deeply moved.

This old cultivator, nearing ninety years of age, did not spare a single thought for himself even at the brink of death. His heart held only the Lü Clan, only the younger generation of his bloodline.

"Rest assured, Old Lü, the Lü Clan will not scatter! As for that child Fang Xuan, my family will nurture him well!"

"Good... good..."

Having heard Yang Lingrui's promise with his own ears, Lü Lianshun ceased his struggling. He let out one long, final breath and peacefully closed his eyes.

"Brother Lü, have a safe journey..."

Xie Chuan, kneeling to the side and wiping away his tears, watched as Yang Lingrui handed Lü Lianshun's mutilated remains over to him.

"Second Young Master, this..."

"Take Old Lü back to Yanxia first."

Yang Lingrui's tone was flat, his gaze as cold as ice.

"Then what about you... Ah!"

Just as Xie Chuan was about to ask, he looked up and saw a black-clad figure slowly walking out from the forest.

To guarantee the success of this retaliation, the Sect had not only deployed various high-level techniques but had also spent a fortune hiring hidden contingencies.

On the back of this black-clad figure was the emblem of a dark crow with blood-red wings, laying bare his identity.

Blood Feather Hall!

Xie Chuan swept out his Divine Sense, and his heart instantly plummeted into the abyss.

Qi Gathering Eighth Layer!

How could they possibly fight against that!

"His target is me. You go first."

Xie Chuan froze at those words. Staring at Yang Lingrui's back, a crushing sense of powerlessness surged into his heart.

Earlier in the treasure land, he had been of little help. Now, in the face of mortal danger, he could only flee under the Second Young Master's protection...

Xie Chuan, oh Xie Chuan!

How can you ever face the main family!

"Xie Chuan, do not forget the Family Head's instructions before our departure."

Yang Lingrui's single sentence snapped the hesitating Xie Chuan awake.

Before leaving, Yang Lingqing had specifically commanded: "Should you encounter great peril on this journey, everyone must prioritize their own lives."

In plainer terms: when disaster strikes, run. Whoever can survive must survive. Do not allow yourselves to be wiped out entirely.

Right now, Yang Lingrui had already decided to stay behind and buy time. He needed to make a decisive choice.

"Xie Chuan understands! Second Young Master, take care!"

Cradling Lü Lianshun's broken body, Xie Chuan did not look back. He sprinted madly in the direction of Yanxia Town.

"Heh, do you really think you can run?"

The black-clad cultivator chuckled lightly. With a flick of his fingers, he summoned an object.

Then, snapping a finger, that slender object transformed into a streak of magical light, shooting straight toward Xie Chuan.

In his mind, this single casual strike would be more than enough to deal with the two people before him.

Unexpectedly, the moment the magical light flew out, it was intercepted mid-air by five wind blades.

At that moment, Yang Lingrui clearly saw the Spiritual Treasure this man was wielding-a steel needle, thick as a thumb and roughly a foot long.

"Hmm?"

A look of surprise flickered in the black-clad cultivator's eyes.

Although it was merely a casual strike, the little cultivator before him was a full two realms below him.

To be able to block it meant the boy's strength was already enough to contend with weaker Seventh Layer cultivators.

"Oh~ So you're a genius!"

The black-clad man grinned, "Well then, slaughtering ordinary mortals all day really is quite dull. Today is the perfect time to change tastes. Let me savor just what a genius feels like!"

Clang-

With a slight exertion of force, the steel needle spun sideways, violently deflecting the five wind blades.

Yang Lingrui fiercely waved the Black Sparrow Feather Fan, stirring up a violent gale that sent dust and dirt flying into the air.

Next, he activated both a Spirit Shield Talisman and a Divine Movement Talisman simultaneously, darting away in the opposite direction from Xie Chuan.

Thrum-

"Damn it!"

Yang Lingrui had only taken a single step before the trembling hum of the steel needle pierced his ears.

"Vajra Body Protection!"

He triggered his first Vajra Talisman, blocking the strike.

Yet, when he looked up, he saw the black-clad cultivator standing right in front of him, a savage sneer on his face.

Boom!

A single punch was thrown, and the golden light shattered on impact.

Yang Lingrui held nothing back, immediately activating a second one.

The black-clad cultivator threw a second punch, his face devoid of expression.

With a crack, the golden light shattered once more.

The inferior-grade Vajra Talismans broke instantly before this person. They simply could not hold.

Using two of them hadn't even bought him three breaths of time.

Yang Lingrui pinched his final high-quality Vajra Talisman. In the exact moment of its activation, he reversed his grip on the Black Sparrow Feather Fan, concealing a compressed wind cone beneath it.

"High-quality? You little cultivator really aren't simple, are you!"

After saying that, the excitement in the black-clad cultivator's eyes deepened. He grabbed the steel needle and viciously thrust it forward.

The golden light barrier shrieked under the assault. As the man continuously poured in more force, fissures finally began to spiderweb across the shield.

"A mere Talisman-break!"

Crack!

The instant the golden light collapsed, the black-clad cultivator's third punch hurtled forward.

And in that split second of lightning and flint, Yang Lingrui unleashed the strongest strike he had been brewing.

Boom!

Slash.

The black-clad cultivator's third punch directly caved in Yang Lingrui's right chest, sending his body tumbling backward through the air.

As for Yang Lingrui's wind cone, the black-clad man had narrowly twisted away from a fatal blow at the very last moment, leaving only a bloody gash across his cheek.

But even so, a look of profound disbelief flashed across the black-clad man's face.

He touched the blood on his cheek, feeling a slight, stinging pain.

He never expected to actually be injured by a mere Sixth Layer cultivator. Every trace of a smile vanished from his face, replaced by a dark, surging fury.

Leaping up, the black-clad man landed squarely in front of Yang Lingrui. He reached out and violently seized his ankle.

Smack! Smack! Smack!...

Gripping Yang Lingrui by the leg, he hoisted him into the air and slammed him brutally into the ground, again and again.

After smashing him over a dozen times, seeing that Yang Lingrui's consciousness was slipping yet he still refused to utter a single sound, the venomous light in the black-clad cultivator's eyes grew even more vicious.

He tossed Yang Lingrui to the ground. Then, with a light tap of his fingertip, the steel needle spun out, piercing straight into the knee joint of Yang Lingrui's right leg.

"Ah!!!"

The bone-deep agony finally forced a miserable scream from Yang Lingrui's throat.

The black-clad cultivator sneered savagely. As if still feeling this wasn't enough to vent his anger, he grabbed the hilt of the steel needle and violently twisted it outward.

Crack!

The flesh and bone in Yang Lingrui's leg were completely pulverized. He gritted his teeth so hard they nearly shattered, only managing to let out heavy, ragged breaths from his nose.

The black-clad cultivator yanked out the steel needle. Watching Yang Lingrui convulse on the dirt, he finally felt his rage subside.

He then pinched the steel needle, aiming the tip squarely at the space between Yang Lingrui's brows.

"A genius. Nothing more."

He murmured softly. Then, his fingers loosened, and the steel needle fell.

At that moment, Yang Lingrui felt as though time had slowed to a crawl. Scenes of his short life began flashing rapidly before his eyes.

"Alas... I'm a bit... unwilling to accept this..."

Carrying that sliver of regret, Yang Lingrui slowly closed his eyes.

But a breath later, realizing his consciousness had not faded, he opened them again.

He saw that the steel needle, halted a mere inch from his brow, was clamped firmly within the grip of a golden, manifested palm.

The black-clad cultivator was equally horrified. Jerking his head up to stare into the distance, he roared, "Who goes there!?"

Yang Lingrui turned his head with tremendous difficulty, only to see a cultivator wearing a painted mask stepping out from the shadows.

This person was clad in the distinct blue-grey armor of the Zhuhu Wangchao, a dark red longbow slung across his back.

"Zhuhu, Demon-Slaying Bureau, Zi He."

The cultivator spoke his name, the familiar hint of lazy nonchalance in his voice echoing in Yang Lingrui's ears.

He glanced at Yang Lingrui lying broken on the ground, then shifted his gaze, his tone growing distinctly cold. "Fellow Daoist is so vicious, you must be quite capable in a fight. It just so happens that my techniques have seen some recent improvement. Today, I'll use you to verify my Dao."

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