Ambushing Xiang Yang had both benefits and drawbacks. If it succeeded, there would naturally be nothing but benefit; if it failed, the disadvantages would be no small matter, and might even affect the great plans the Demon Sect had laid.
Li Xiaolin had actually leaned toward a more conservative approach. Yet for some reason, whenever he thought of Xiang Yang's origins in the Divine Constable Gate, an urgent impulse arose within him to make Xiang Yang disappear. Either Xiang Yang had to leave, or he had to die. In any case, Li Xiaolin did not want to see him.
"Fine, then it's settled. Since Xiang Yang came to seek my guidance and exchange moves, he should never expect me to tamper with his food and drink. Handle this matter discreetly.
"Once the Blood Curse takes effect, I'll seize the chance to strike him dead. Afterward, we'll announce to the outside world that it was an accident. That should be enough to muddle through."
There was not the slightest trace of guilt or shame on Shen Ao's face, as though scheming against others had long become as commonplace as eating and drinking, incapable of stirring any emotion in his heart.
In the martial world, the victor was king, and the defeated were bandits.
Take the former Purple Robe Chief Constable of Yongzhou. In terms of martial arts, Shen Ao might not necessarily have been able to defeat him. Yet now that man was dead, while Shen Ao was not only alive, but living well. This showed that what mattered in this world was the result, not the process. What people cared about was only the result.
Meanwhile, Xiang Yang sat cross-legged with his eyes closed in a side room filled with cloying incense, restoring his spirit.
From the Great River Alliance's