The Song Manor's Demise (Part 2)

In Chu Zheng's eyes, the Phantom Spirit Sect and the Nightlight Pavilion were all cut from the same cloth.

Immortal Sects regarded mortals as ants, while he was a person—a mortal, not an immortal.

Song Lingqing's death, along with the Phantom Spirit Sect's response, made Chu Zheng understand many things in an instant.

The Nightlight Pavilion had never made a move, yet had kept making an issue of the Song Family. They were likely aiming not for the wine, but for the hidden dragon itself—the one they truly wished to cut down was Song Lingqing.

Now that the hidden dragon had drowned in the deep sea before ever emerging from its abyss, there was naturally no need to waste further thought on the Song Family.

Whether Jiang Cunhu or Fu Quanliang lived or died no longer held the slightest meaning at this moment.

As Chu Zheng pondered, Fu Quanliang beside him had already fallen into a daze.

Destroy the Phantom Spirit Sect...

Those few short words seemed, for an instant, to set the blood in his bones ablaze.

Why did he have to die?! Was his life so cheap?!

Fu Quanliang's breathing gradually deepened. What he could not accomplish did not mean Chu Zheng could not.

Perhaps one day, he too would have a chance, just like today, to personally smash that Mission Elder's dog head apart!

"Fu Quanliang... Fu Quanliang!"

Chu Zheng called twice without receiving a response, then reached out and patted Fu Quanliang's face.

"Hey, wake up."

"Hm?"

Fu Quanliang broke free from the visions rising in his mind. He glanced at Chu Zheng and slowly calmed down.

Chu Zheng still had to rely on a sneak attack to kill a Spiritual Spring Realm cultivator. What did he have to wipe out the Phantom Spirit Sect? For all he knew, he would only drag Fu Quanliang down to die with him.

He could see it clearly now—Chu Zheng's way of thinking differed somewhat from that of ordinary people.

In any case, he was no normal person.

"Is there any way for me to enter the Phantom Spirit Sect?"

This was what concerned Chu Zheng most at present.

"When you made your move, I didn't sense any mana fluctuations. Do you have an Immortal Bone?"

Fu Quanliang hesitated. He truly could not figure out Chu Zheng's methods.

Chu Zheng immediately shook his head. If he had an Immortal Bone, he would naturally find a way to take another path.

"Without an Immortal Bone, you definitely can't become a disciple of the sect."

After considering for a moment, Fu Quanliang nodded.

"If you can hide the power inside your body and evade the inspection before entry, then display the combat power of a mortal Great Grandmaster, you could enter the Phantom Spirit Sect and get yourself a job as a menial."

The Qi Cultivation Realm was, plainly speaking, only equivalent to a Great Grandmaster, perhaps even slightly inferior.

Sects generally welcomed Great Grandmasters from the mortal world as menials. After all, they required no Cultivation Resources; a few ordinary pills and some grains and cereals were enough to keep them fed.

Some Great Grandmasters who cultivated External martial arts to temper their bodies could even accomplish things that Qi Cultivation Realm disciples could not. It was a business that brought ten thousandfold returns for a single investment.

But menials were still merely menials, not disciples. Compared with Outer Disciples, their status was worlds apart. If no one above looked after them, they would inevitably be assigned all manner of dirty and exhausting work.

In the mortal world, Great Grandmasters were revered as pillars of the realm, enjoying all the splendor and wealth of the world in carefree leisure.

Very few Great Grandmasters were willing to come to an Immortal Sect to live such a life. Thus, this type of menial was scarce—even fewer in number than Outer Disciples.

As for training Great Grandmasters, Immortal Sects would never do such a thing. It was simply too wasteful of effort: martial training required talent as well, and it could easily breed unrest.

Most young Outer Disciples possessed strength between the Qi Cultivation Realm and the Spiritual Spring Realm, with the Qi Cultivation Realm making up the majority. In a real fight, they might not necessarily be a match for a Great Grandmaster.

Once there were too many Great Grandmasters, with their strength on equal footing yet such a vast gap in status, conflicts would inevitably arise.

Immortal Seeds were hard to find. Should large-scale bloody clashes break out, it would be a loss for an Immortal Sect.

Even a Low-grade Immortal Bone was worth far more than ten Great Grandmasters. It was not worth taking such a risk.

"What does this entry inspection examine?"

Hiding his strength was no difficult matter for Chu Zheng. For a short time, dissolving the Primordial Qi in his Dantian into his flesh was effortless for him.

The only thing requiring attention was the inspection before entry.

"Immortal Bones and cultivation—only those two things. There's a Spirit Array before the sect. You can't bring any of your belongings in; you enter naked. Once you pass the Spirit Array's inspection, menial clothes will be provided."

"You go through this every time you enter or leave the mountain gate?" Chu Zheng was somewhat puzzled. This was a bit too strict.

Fu Quanliang shook his head. "Of course not. This only applies to menials. Disciples leaving the sect go through another, more complicated process."

The methods of the immortal path were countless, and every time a disciple entered or left was a potential risk. Whenever they returned, an elder would personally verify their identity, guarding against possession, altered forms, or evil demons of foreign paths concealing themselves within secret treasures and returning to the sect alongside a disciple.

Throughout the ages, immortal sects destroyed by trouble from within had been beyond counting.

Immortal sects with long inheritances would more or less possess methods left behind by their forebears and patriarchs as foundations. Yet many such foundations could only guard against external enemies, not traitors within.

At this thought, Fu Quanliang could not help feeling a little excited. If he could truly bring Chu Zheng into the Phantom Spirit Sect, it would be like burying a dark thunderbolt there. Perhaps one day, it really could blast the Phantom Spirit Sect into the sky.

After weighing it for a moment, Chu Zheng made his decision. "Then we depart tomorrow."

Now that they had the information, the sooner they set out, the better.

Nightlight Pavilion might not care about a single Jiang Cunhu, but some fellow disciples on good terms with him might come looking for him.

In the blink of an eye, it was noon.

After receiving word from the Phantom Spirit Sect, Song Tonghai had not shown himself.

Upon learning that Chu Zheng intended to leave tomorrow, Song Lingxue stepped forward and dismissed everyone in the manor.

In an instant, only a scant few people remained in the entire Song Manor, making it exceptionally desolate and cold.

That afternoon, Chu Zheng went out and made a circuit around Luofeng City.

Quite a few martial artists were still lying in wait nearby. Their channels for news were nowhere near as swift as Fu Quanliang's, and they had no idea that the situation had already changed.

Chu Zheng tried to reason with them, but the process was far from pleasant. In the end, he returned with many mangled corpses, men and women alike.

Night fell.

Chu Zheng sat cross-legged on the couch, packing for the journey. He dug up the Immortal Sect Scriptures he had originally buried underground and put them into his Storage Bag.

The Storage Bag could not be brought into the Phantom Spirit Sect. He would need to think of a way around that when the time came...

Whoosh—

The door was suddenly pushed open. Song Lingxue stepped slowly into the room, her expression calm.

"Where are you going when you set out tomorrow?"

"The Phantom Spirit Sect." Chu Zheng did not hide it and answered truthfully.

Having killed Jiang Cunhu and gone this far, all debts between him and the Song Family had been settled. The next step, naturally, was to do what he himself wanted to do.

Besides, the Song Family's situation was no longer as difficult as before.

Song Lingxue seemed somewhat surprised upon learning his destination. "Why are you going to the Phantom Spirit Sect?"

"To take revenge."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Chu Zheng gave it some thought, then added an explanation to avoid any misunderstanding:

"This has nothing to do with the Song Family. I've already cleared out everyone who set up blockades near Luofeng City. You can leave directly tomorrow."

Avenging Fu Quanliang had merely been something he did along the way.

The only reason he had chosen the Phantom Spirit Sect was that it looked far weaker than Nightlight Pavilion. Of the several immortal sects in the area, it appeared to be the easiest target.

Even an old woman eating persimmons knew to pick the soft ones to squeeze. Besides, he had Fu Quanliang as an insider to help him—the Phantom Spirit Sect was practically the best choice.

Of Chu Zheng's words, Song Lingxue believed only the part about revenge.

There was hardly any enmity between Chu Zheng and the Phantom Spirit Sect. She preferred to believe that those words, "take revenge," were for Song Lingqing.

With that thought, she slowly stepped forward, reached the bedside, and pushed Chu Zheng onto the couch.

Chu Zheng: "?"

Before he could speak, Song Lingxue had already climbed onto the couch and straddled his waist.

Looking down at Chu Zheng, she casually tugged loose her hair ribbon. Her raven hair cascaded down like a waterfall as she spoke with concise finality:

"Take it off."

Chu Zheng glanced at the moonlight outside the window and pondered. "How about tomorrow? I prefer daytime."

Absorbing Moonlight Essence at night increased the Yin Qi within his body, which affected his combat strength to some extent.

Song Lingxue said nothing more. Lowering herself, she bit down on Chu Zheng's neck.

Before dawn had broken.

A carriage slowly rolled out from the rear courtyard of Song Manor. Song Lingxue wore fitted blue-and-green martial attire and a bamboo hat as she urged the horse onward.

Inside the carriage, Song Tonghai sat with his head lowered. His hair was completely white, and his eyes, once bright and sharp, had become clouded as he muttered to himself:

"Qing'er... my Qing'er..."

He held several spirit tablets in his arms. One of them was brand-new, spotless and free of dust.

The next morning.

When Chu Zheng woke, there was no one beside his pillow.

Song Manor stood empty, not even a ghost in sight.

A letter lay on a table in the main hall, left behind by Song Lingxue.

Its contents were simple: she hoped Chu Zheng would give up on going to the Phantom Spirit Sect, choose somewhere else, and live well. He and the Song Family no longer owed each other anything, so there was no need to waste his time on meaningless matters.

Chu Zheng's face remained expressionless. A faint glow ignited in his hand, and the letter turned to ash in an instant.

No longer owed each other anything?

She made it sound so simple. His Primordial Yang was immensely precious; Song Lingxue owed him far more than that.

Thinking of last night, Chu Zheng could not help but sigh. In the end, he only had the body of a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old—hot-blooded and brimming with vigor, his self-control still lacking.

Having released his Primordial Yang so early, he would have to put in more effort later to maintain the balance of yin and yang within his body.

As for regret, there was none to speak of.

Fu Quanliang entered the main hall with a longsword on his back and asked, "Leaving now?"

"Let's go."

Chu Zheng turned and walked toward the gates of Song Manor. Raising a hand toward the sky, he sent Primordial Qi surging from his palm, shooting straight into the heavens and turning into a blazing ball of fire in the blink of an eye.

The instant the two stepped beyond the gates, the fireball overhead suddenly exploded, becoming a rain of flames that blanketed the entire Song Manor in the time it took to snap one's fingers.

At the Spiritual Transformation Realm, one comprehended the flow and transformations of qi. A minor spell like this came as easily as lifting a hand.

To avoid leaving too many traces and prevent pursuit, burning everything clean was the safest course.

The corpses brought back yesterday now served a purpose as well. At the very least, they could create the illusion of a household massacre.

Tongues of flame leaped several yards high, slowly devouring the gilded plaque above the gates.

Watching the century-old residence gradually vanish amid the firelight, Chu Zheng's brow furrowed faintly, his fingertips trembling.

He had never thought that one day, to conceal what had happened here, he would personally destroy a century-old relic like this.

As an Antiquities Restorer, he had personally buried a piece of history.

Though, to the world as a whole, that piece of history was utterly insignificant.

"Let's go."

Chu Zheng turned around and casually asked, "How far is this place from the Phantom Spirit Sect?"

"Not far. There's a branch sect twenty thousand li away. Once we get there, we can take a Flying Boat back to the main sect."

"How long did it take you to get here?"

"One of my senior sisters brought me here. It took less than two days. As for the two of us... if we walk like this, we'll get there in about half a month."

"Was your senior sister pretty?"

"Of course she was..."

Under the glow of the towering blaze, the two figures gradually disappeared down the street, leaving no trace behind.

The fire burned for an entire day and night. From then on, Wuyang Commandery had one fewer century-old noble family.

Several days later, more than a hundred Iron Cavalry galloped over and stopped before the ruins.

"We were still one step too late! What a pity."

Gazing at the crumbling walls before him, Zhao Yunheng, clad in a Python Robe, let out a long sigh. Upon learning that Song Lingqing had been ambushed, he had immediately returned from the capital, hoping he might yet fulfill his earlier wish.

Yet despite racing all the way here, he had still arrived too late.

"Missing it may not be a bad thing."

At his side, Zhao Jichang shook his head. "The Song Family likely could not bear such heaven-sent fortune. With troubles tangled all around them, it's better not to touch them."

"That's right."

Zhao Yunheng laughed and cursed, "You brat married four noble ladies from the capital in one go, every night like a wedding night. Of course you don't care about Song Lingxue anymore."

"Is this Song Manor?"

Before Zhao Yunheng had finished speaking, a question suddenly came from nearby.

At some unknown point, an additional figure had appeared amid the ruins. He wore a green robe and looked to be around twenty. His skin gleamed like polished jade, and a dot of blood-red cinnabar between his brows added a hint of seductive menace to his otherwise refined features.

"And you are?" Zhao Yunheng frowned slightly.

"Answer me. Is this Song Manor?" The man frowned faintly and repeated his question, seeming somewhat impatient.

"How presumptuous!"

The sounds of swords and sabers leaving their sheaths erupted in succession. Such an insolent attitude instantly enraged the hundred-plus Iron Cavalry behind Zhao Yunheng.

Pfft—

A muffled burst rang out. In an instant, every Iron Cavalryman who had drawn a weapon, men and horses alike, split flesh from bone and turned into pools of bloody pulp.

In the blink of an eye, only Zhao Yunheng and his son remained.

Zhao Jichang trembled all over, his face suddenly turning pale. For a moment, he was speechless.

"This place is indeed Song Manor. I was lax in disciplining my men; my subordinates acted thoughtlessly and offended the Supreme Immortal. I beg the Supreme Immortal not to take offense."

Zhao Yunheng's expression was grave. He dismounted, subtly shielding Zhao Jichang behind him, then bowed in apology. "I beg the Supreme Immortal, for the sake of our descent from the Zhao Family, to spare my father and son."

Hearing this, the man slowly narrowed his eyes. "You're using a dead man to pressure me?"

"Where is Zhao Tingxian now?"

"Zhao Tingxian? Zhao Tingxian? Zhao Tingxian!"

His voice rose higher and higher, shaking the four wilds and sending ripples through the void.

Rumble—

Before the echoes had faded, rolling thunderclouds suddenly surged across the heavens, condensing into a Thunder Giant Eye devoid of the slightest emotion.

Deep within that eye was a haze of chaos, with Yin-Yang Qi faintly churning within.

The instant the thunderclouds appeared, the blue-robed man's face turned deathly pale, his expression changing drastically.

Before he could speak, a Thunder Giant Sword descended from the sky. Like heavenly punishment falling upon him, it slashed down toward the crown of his head.

Buzz—

Not far away, Zhao Yunheng merely felt a light breeze brush across his face. When he opened his eyes again, every trace left behind by the Song Family had vanished, leaving only a bottomless Heavenly Abyss.

News of the Song Family's annihilation spread rapidly. Within days, it had traveled throughout Great Zhou, becoming fodder for martial folk's after-dinner chatter.

Yet the upheaval within the cultivation world of the surrounding nations was far more intense than anything in the mortal realm.

Fu Quanliang's feat alone—defying the order of cultivation, crossing realms to kill Jiang Cunhu—had stirred some reaction among the lower-ranking disciples of several nearby sects.