Eighth Sister Has Been Wronged

"Old Fan, this...?"

The people at Soaring Tower were initially terrified.

Those descending Sword Light were like Heavenly Punishment; no one knew if they would be the next to fall.

They instinctively huddled together around Fan Yuan, back to back, not daring to even breathe.

But gradually, they sensed something was amiss.

That invisible strike seemed to have eyes.

Each strike slays someone from the Mystic Capital Prefecture.

No matter how the opponent maneuvered and dodged, or how they blended into their ranks, the Sword Light always managed to precisely avoid their own people and only take the lives of the enemy.

So close, yet completely unharmed.

The crowd exchanged bewildered glances, their eyes filled with shock and confusion as they looked at Fan Yuan.

What exactly is this...?

"Don't panic." Fan Yuan's voice was also a little tense, but he still tried to remain calm. "It was the master who made the move."

Gentlemen?

After a brief moment of stunned silence, everyone suddenly realized.

Rumor has it that a Celestial Person stands behind Fan Yuan.

But no one had ever seen that person from the Soaring Tower, and over time, no one really took it to heart, treating it as just a legend.

Until tonight.

They then realized that the rumor was true.

Moreover, it's far more terrifying than the rumors suggest.

Although the doubts were resolved, no one dared to act rashly.

Because the Sword Light was still falling relentlessly.

With each strike, one or more people exploded into a bloody mist.

Someone, cornered like a dog, is trying to drag someone from the Soaring Tower down with them.

With a flash of Sword Light, half of the man's body was cleanly severed, while the Soaring Tower disciple he was holding remained unharmed, not even a hair on his head.

Such precision, such effortless mastery.

Fan Yuan felt a chill run down his spine.

He prided himself on having seen the world.

Such unpredictable and mysterious methods are unprecedented in my life.

Just how far has your cultivation reached, sir?

He dared not think about it, nor could he imagine it.

I don't know how much time passed.

The final glint of Sword Light quietly faded away.

Not a single member of the Mystic Capital Prefecture group survived.

The world suddenly fell silent.

The battlefield, which was just moments ago filled with the sounds of battle, is now a scene of utter devastation.

Scorched earth, cracked ground, crisscrossing sword marks, and blood mist that slowly dissipates with a gust of wind.

Only the area beneath that towering tree, spanning several feet in radius, remained completely clean.

Fan Yuan stared at the giant tree, lost in thought.

After a long while, he composed himself, straightened his clothes, and bowed deeply towards the tree.

This move by the gentleman has saved countless lives tonight and averted a dire situation for Soaring Tower.

I must find an opportunity to properly repay this kindness, sir.

I came to my senses.

Fan Yuan immediately began to take stock of his manpower and assess the current situation.

It was at this moment that a message arrived.

Upon learning of the attack on the rear, several elders dispatched a contingent to rush back and provide reinforcements!

This news made his eyes suddenly sharpen.

Mystic Capital Prefecture, in a desperate gamble, staked all its elite forces on this one place.

Now that their entire army has been wiped out, their fighting strength is depleted, and they are at their weakest point.

Such a golden opportunity must not be missed.

"The elite troops of Mystic Capital Prefecture have all perished here tonight."

"If we return to provide reinforcements now, wouldn't we be missing such a golden opportunity?"

Without the slightest hesitation, Fan Yuan spoke in a deep voice.

"Pass on the order!"

"Order the returning reinforcements to change course and head straight for the Mystic Capital Prefecture camp!"

"Follow me in my counterattack--"

"This time, it's our turn to storm their door!"

But all of this, in Zhou Heng's eyes, had a completely different meaning.

He slumped to the ground, remaining motionless throughout.

The knife wound on his neck still stung, but he couldn't care less.

The people who had just held a knife to his throat, those ninth-level experts who had just forced his master to kneel.

That's Ninth Level of Cultivators!

A top-tier expert who is only one step away from becoming Celestial Person.

In the blink of an eye, one after another, they all turned into a bloody mist.

What brought all this to light was the Jujube Pit in his pocket.

It was the Jujube Pit that Qin Wangchuan gave me.

Zhou Heng's mind was in complete chaos.

Was all of this... orchestrated by Qin Wangchuan?

How could that be?

Qin Wangchuan, the one he'd been bickering with for years.

How could someone possibly possess such Tongtian abilities?

But that Jujube Pit clearly came from his hand...

Zhou Heng became increasingly confused and felt a chill run down his spine.

He opened his mouth, but in the end, he said nothing.

He just stared blankly at the giant tree.

Watching it, I saw it wither away little by little at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The branches and leaves have withered, and the trunk is dry and shriveled.

The colossal creature that had just been so imposing was now hunched over and stunted, as if all its vitality had been drained away.

Could it be that... the truly formidable thing is this tree?

--

Willow Creek Town.

The Qin Clan Courtyard.

Qin Wangchuan slowly withdrew his hand from the Jujube Tree.

The massacre that took place a thousand miles away was nothing more than a matter of raising his hand across this tree.

Currently, his cultivation level is not high, and his Divine Sense cannot cover a wide area.

But it's not that there's no way.

The roots of the Jujube Tree are deeply embedded in the ground, and to him, they are like a pair of eyes that extend thousands of miles away.

It is also a channel through which Sword Intent is conveyed.

"Trees have consciousness, but they are not strong."

He murmured to himself, as if talking to the Jujube Tree.

"Even if they gained sentience, they couldn't stop so many Cultivators."

"But with me included, things will be different."

By borrowing the roots of the tree, I can see the whole scene; by handing me my sword, I will slay all my enemies.

That's all.

With that thought in mind, Qin Wangchuan turned and walked into the house.

He suddenly stopped when he reached the courtyard wall.

A faint smile played on his lips as he slowly opened his mouth.

It's late at night.

"Eighth Sister, you should get some rest too."

The words had barely left his mouth.

In a flash.

Suddenly, a head popped out from the other side of the wall.

Qin Zhaoer was caught red-handed while perched on the wall, but she showed no remorse whatsoever.

Their gazes fell on Qin Wangchuan.

At this moment, a wisp of Sword Intent, sharp and cold, still lingered around him.

He was just sitting peacefully in this courtyard, so who did he attack?

What were you doing just now?

Qin Zhaoer was caught off guard, so she simply asked the question.

"It's nothing," Qin Wangchuan said in his usual indifferent tone. "Just solved a small problem."

After saying that, he turned to go back into the house.

But they've only taken one step.

Qin Zhaoer climbed over the wall and landed steadily in front of him, spreading her arms to completely block his path.

Qin Wangchuan paused, looking up at her.

The girl's eyes had reddened at some point, brimming with tears, which she held back from falling.

"You've been hiding it from me again."

Her voice was muffled, with a slight, almost imperceptible tremor.

"Let's leave it at that time in the Immortal Court."

"But in this place... we're the closest of friends."

Qin Zhaoer pursed her lips as she spoke, as if words that had been building up for a long time were finally pouring out.

"If you have something to say, why didn't you tell me?"

"I'll cook for you every day, keep you company while you forge iron, and watch that broken tree grow up alongside you..."

"I've been so good to you."

"Yet you still treat me like an outsider, keeping everything from me."

In the end, the pool of tears that had been held back finally couldn't be held back and spilled down with a soft thud.

Qin Wangchuan stared at her, somewhat stunned.

I don't think I've ever seen my Eighth Sister cry.

That domineering, arrogant, and infuriatingly haughty Eighth Sister—

She can cry?

Just for such a trivial matter?

Thinking about it, he suddenly realized:

Eighth Sister felt wronged.

Qin Wangchuan lowered his eyes and remained silent for a moment.

He then raised his hand and gently wiped away the tear from her cheek.

"I'm not hiding it from you."

His voice was a few decibels lower than usual.

"It's really a small matter, no need for you to worry about it."

Who asked you?

Whether it's worth it or not isn't up to you to decide! It's up to me to decide.

Qin Zhaoer turned her head away and muttered something in a low voice.

"Anyway, you can't hide anything from me, do you hear me?"

Qin Wangchuan looked at her profile as she turned away; her muttered voice still carried a hint of tears, yet she remained incredibly stubborn.

His eyes flickered slightly, and the corners of his lips curved into a smile.

"... Okay, I won't lie to you."

It turns out that Eighth Sister has such a cute side.