Chapter Ninety-Nine: Struggle

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Inside the room, the occupants watched quietly, while those outside beneath the tree’s shade remained unaware of what had been said. One thing was certain: Yun Xingyu had released Su He.

Su He tidied his slightly disheveled robe and said, “Though the person was not killed by my hand, fundamentally, it is I who have implicated him. If you, Brother Yun, seek to avenge him, I bear no grievance.”

With that, he looked at Yun Xingyu calmly.

Yun Xingyu was not unreasonable; he understood that Su He was not at fault. Yet, the undeniable truth remained that the man had died because of him.

After a long pause, as if making a firm decision, he said, “My master wants me to follow you, and there must be a purpose behind it; thus, I shall not defy his wishes. But I will witness with my own eyes all that you do. Should you stray from the right path even slightly in the future, I will take your life.”

Hearing this, Su He straightened his robe, rolled up his sleeves, and replied indifferently, “I welcome your guidance, Brother Yun.”

“Go back now; I imagine they are growing impatient,” Yun Xingyu said, unwilling to linger on the matter. Though he harbored a desire to seek revenge against Hua Zhongying and Yu Su’er’s informant, the time was not right.

His gaze then swept toward the main hall, uncertain how much sincerity remained among those present.

But how much could such sincerity endure under strain?

Su He seemed to catch the underlying tone but only paused briefly before gesturing for Yun Xingyu to follow. Returning to the main hall, Yun Xingyu had already sensed a strange atmosphere between Zou Jiren and Huai Yin, but he did not reveal it. If Su He could not manage such matters, there was no reason to continue accompanying him. It might be better to end things decisively.

Yet Su He smiled silently, never mentioning the cause of their discord. Instead, he proceeded with the others to finalize the details concerning Liu Xinzhai.

Yun Xingyu leaned back in his seat, observing quietly. His eyes accidentally met with Que Yunzi’s, and in that moment, he understood something, choosing not to speak further.

Elsewhere, Fan Si and others had their plans sabotaged by Su He and Zou Jiren. They gathered by a trickling stream to rest briefly, parched after their exertions.

Two or three had already waded into the water, plunging their faces deep, emerging after a moment to wipe their faces and return to the shore.

“Fourth Brother, Sixth Brother, what should we do now? The sun’s almost down. If we don’t hurry, the master of the Manor won’t spare us,” one said anxiously.

Fan Si squatted by the bank, cupping water to drink, wiping sweat from his brow, and staring at the shimmering surface. A fiery impatience burned in his eyes. “You’re right.”

He glanced at Liu Kouzhang. “Old Six, any thoughts?”

Liu Kouzhang weakly lifted his straw hat, woven from twigs, and tilted his head toward Fan Si. “At this stage, it doesn’t matter if she’s old or young, as long as she’s female, even if she’s a mere fledgling. If we delay any longer, forget about the fledglings—we might not even get any females at all.”

Indeed, they had been discovered by the brutes from White Gourd Mountain. To succeed now would be a fool’s dream.

White Gourd Mountain was home to formidable experts. Having stirred up trouble there, their prospects looked bleak.

Not just within ten miles, but even a hundred miles away, few could be caught, let alone the remaining ten they sought.

Thinking so, Liu Kouzhang could no longer lie still. He rolled up and sat up straight. “Why did you even think to run to White Gourd Mountain? If we had gone elsewhere, perhaps we wouldn’t be facing this mess.”

He had promised to explain on the way but had been too occupied with chasing and fleeing to say anything.

At this point, not only did he feel unlucky, but several present also harbored silent grievances.

Fan Si rolled up his sleeves, scooped water to his face, then rose and stood beside Liu Kouzhang. “Do you know who did this at Yuzhen Peak?”

“Who?”

Mentioning Yuzhen Peak immediately dispelled Liu Kouzhang’s scattered thoughts.

“I’ll write it down; take a look,” Fan Si said, drawing in the dirt with a stick.

After finishing, he looked at Liu Kouzhang. “Understand now?”

Liu Kouzhang stood frozen, taking a long moment to collect his wits and untangle his tongue. “Re… really?”

He glanced nervously at the others, touching his neck as if seeking reassurance.

Thankfully, those who ate were still alive.

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“No mistake,” Fan Si confirmed.

“That’s easy enough to understand, but why choose White Gourd Mountain over other places?”

“That’s because Yuzhen Peak is closest to White Gourd Mountain, which is no stranger to female immortals. The two places have long had exchanges. Given the deeds we committed, could they have been unprepared?”

“So you mean the two factions had secret dealings all along? That’s why you sent us to White Gourd Mountain—to count on them learning about Yuzhen Peak?”

“Exactly. Yuzhen Peak is mostly female immortals. If trouble arises, most from White Gourd Mountain would come to assist. That leaves vacancies—our chance. But we didn’t expect that brute Geng Ci to suddenly lead men back and ruin everything.”

Truly infuriating.

“Yeah, we had some success at White Gourd Mountain before. Why didn’t they show such strength earlier? Or did they learn from their mistakes?”

“Hmph, who knows?” Fan Si snorted coldly, staring at the sunset sinking into the valley. His eyes flashed with ruthless determination. “Let’s go catch them. We must gather the sacrifices before nightfall.”

“Agreed.” Liu Kouzhang stood, clapping his hands. “Get up, get up, let’s get to work. Once this is done, we can enjoy ourselves properly.”

“Alright, let’s go! Hurry up and follow.”

“Wait for me; I need to put on my shoes…”

As night fell, Lin Mao sat silently in the flower hall, awaiting in stillness.

In truth, he had maintained this posture since Fan Si and the others left and had not changed it upon their return.

“Master of the Manor,” Fan Si and Liu Kouzhang approached cautiously, stealing glances at the uneven group of sacrifices.

There were young children, plain women, even aged ones with white hair like withered cranes.

At a glance, they ranged from young to old, each different.

There was no fault in their choice; these were the ones they had forcibly gathered.

Unexpectedly, Lin Mao did not become angry. Instead, he nodded calmly, instructing them to send the captives through the crescent moon gate for immediate sacrifice.

Why the urgency? One, because the demon lord had issued a death order; two, because sacrifices took time.

Normally only a few were sacrificed at a time, but this was several times that number, requiring much more time.

For Fan Si and the others, this was routine.

To them, people were no different than goods.

They first chose a robust, ordinary-looking woman. In their words, her blood was plentiful, so the sacrifice would last longer.

The elderly and the young—one too old with weak blood, the other too young to endure—would be done quickly.

The woman resisted, but as helpless prey in the hands of butchers, no amount of hatred or unwillingness could save her life.

After being roughly handled, she was led to the execution block.

The moment her blood dripped down marked the start of the final contest.

Only nine remained, their faces filled with sorrow. None knew if they would be next.

If tears have an end, it is when the heart dies.

If not, it must be because there remains some attachment to this world.

But trapped in this sunless Temple of the Goddess, surrounded by demons, who could hear their screams?

Heaven? It did not answer. If it had, how could they be suffering so?

Earth? It dared not respond. If it could, why would they weep together in despair?

Liu Kouzhang, annoyed by their cries, barked, “Why cry? Whoever cries next is next.”

Immediately, an old woman covered a nearby girl’s mouth, tears silently streaming down her wrinkled face. She trembled as she spoke, “Gentlemen, children don’t understand. Please don’t take it to heart. If there’s a next, let this old woman go. I’ve lived long enough, seen enough, and enjoyed what I could. It’s time.”

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“What’s the rush? If it’s your turn, just sit quietly,” Liu Kouzhang barked. For some reason, the old woman’s tears stirred an unnameable restlessness within him.

After scolding everyone back, he focused on Fan Si and the others.

The old woman held the little girl tightly, whispering, “Don’t be afraid. Nothing will happen.”

Hearing this, the girl’s tears spilled over, dropping onto the old woman’s hand, shattering into pieces, burning her heart with pain.

Such cruelty…

Looking at the others, their faces were mournful and spirits withered.

Tears flowed like rivers, tangled with sorrow.

Meanwhile, Geng Ci and Scar Three rushed back to White Gourd Mountain.

They summoned many immortals, first clearing Su He’s name, then revealing their plans for the night.

The assembled immortals were enraged, eager to confront Lin Mao, who had deceived them and made them suffer difficulties with Baili Su He.

To let the true culprit roam free while putting themselves at others’ mercy was intolerable.

Seeing the situation, Geng Ci hastily instructed Scar Three to hold back the crowd. “Everyone, please calm down! We have a plan and cannot allow him to continue his misdeeds. There is one matter needing your help. Please hear me out before deciding.”

The crowd halted. Someone urged, “What is it? Speak quickly.”

“I have letters addressed to our fellow immortals harmed outside White Gourd Mountain. I need a few volunteers to deliver them,” he said, producing a stack of letters from his sleeve.

Though called a few, there were at least ten.

Tian Hannian and others stepped forward. “Leave them to us.”

Geng Ci was pleased, handing over the letters with a strict warning: “Be swift and careful!”

“We understand,” Tian Hannian said, patting his chest. Then he asked, “Where is Yuzhen Peak? I recall Lan Xianzi and Miss Rongrong from there are also victims. Why were they omitted?”

Scar Three replied, “Hannian, you don’t know. Yuzhen Peak… is no more. Lan Xianzi and Miss Rongrong—their spirits have departed.”

Tian Hannian staggered back, shocked. “Why has no one mentioned this?”

Geng Ci was about to explain but was interrupted by Bian Qing: “You were in a crucial stage of cultivation. I know you cared for Lan Xianzi. We concealed this to protect you—not to withhold information. If you blame anyone, blame me.”

“You…” Tian Hannian could not find words to blame Bian Qing. They had grown up together, and Qing’s actions were meant for his good.

But still—Lan Xianzi… sigh.

Bian Qing took the letters from his hand, tucking them into his bosom. “If you don’t want Lan Xianzi’s death to be in vain, deliver these letters quickly. Once the Liu Xinzhai matter is resolved, I’ll explain everything.”

“Very well.”

Tian Hannian turned, his steps heavy yet urgent, leaving with the others.

Geng Ci, seeing matters settled, gathered the group to select those heading to Liu Xinzhai tonight.

He arranged the remainder to guard White Gourd Mountain, to prevent an enemy attack on their own base.

He said, “Come forward all of you. Tonight, we shall…”