Ji Xuan's Scheme, Secretly Watching

The silver-haired girl received Mu Chen's response, her eyes, clear as glazed glass, brimming with smiles. Even the corners of her exquisitely beautiful eyes curved like crescent moons.

"Luo Li, since we are already good friends, why don't we get a little closer?"

Mu Chen poked at the dying campfire and made his suggestion.

The silver-haired girl in the black dress paused for a moment, then pursed her lips, smiled, and said yes. She rose and walked toward the human youth who had opened his arms wide.

One step, two steps, three steps.

With only an inch between them, the two figures, about to embrace, suddenly erupted into motion. Like rabbits bolting and falcons striking, they lunged into the darkness behind one another, summoning their respective god-tier spiritual weapons.

After a flurry of metallic clashing, the two who had vanished reappeared.

In each of their hands, they dragged two corpses that had long since lost their vitality, their faces still frozen in expressions of lingering terror. Their wounds were all fatal, single-strike penetrations.

Having disposed of the bodies, the youth and the girl sat back down by the campfire, asking in unison before sharing a smile, "Do you have enemies?"

Although the slaughter within the Spirit Road was incredibly cruel—where there were no grudges, only interests—the two-year trial was nearing its end. The fierce reputation of the Black and White Duo, King Mu and King Luo, had already spread across most of the plane, with portraits even circulating abroad.

Under these circumstances, few who were not blind would dare to provoke them.

The four or five ambushers they had just dealt with were not weak; they were all experts possessing level five or six spiritual bodies. Logically, they shouldn't have been this foolish.

The only explanation for this irrationality was a vendetta born of old grievances.

"I've provoked too many enemies. Even if it's not a thousand, it's at least eight hundred."

"Who knows which old friend with a long memory wants to reminisce? If I knew, this Mu would certainly have to return the favor."

Mu Chen indicated that he had made too many enemies to distinguish between them.

"I've killed at least several hundred people; I can't count them either."

The silver-haired girl shook her head as well, her eyes showing a trace of confusion.

Do not be fooled by how Luo Li looked as beautiful as a celestial being, with her ethereal temperament and crisp voice.

The savage words spilling from her red lips were no less intense than those of the young prince.

"Forget it, why bother worrying about it? Whoever comes, we'll just knock them dead."

Mu Chen waved the primitive battle staff in his hand, swinging it to create bursts of sonic booms.

"Go get some rest; I'll keep watch."

"Mm."

The silver-haired girl gave a soft hum, gathered her long dress, and clutching her divine sword, she darted up the ancient tree as silently and nimbly as a leopard. She leaned against a thick root and closed her eyes.

Under the moonlight, whether it was an illusion or not, the corners of the beauty's mouth curled up slightly.

Over the next half-month, Mu Chen and his companion were attacked by more than a dozen groups of powerful individuals. They were intercepted on the road, ambushed in the shadows, or lured into traps—every possible method was employed.

The two gradually realized that everything happening lately was by no means a coincidence.

"Bang, bang, bang."

Accompanied by a dense series of metallic clashes, the fighting in the dense forest came to an abrupt halt.

Amidst the corpses littering the ground, the silver-haired girl held the Luo God Sword in her slender hand, the long, black blade resting against the neck of the last survivor, leaving him not daring to move a muscle.

Mu Chen dragged over a man who had been knocked unconscious. "Luo Li, leave one alive."

As the words fell, pfft, a cold sword light swept across the man's throat, sealing his breath with blood.

A long line of blood sprayed into the air, announcing the death of the unlucky fellow.

Luo Li sheathed her sword and stood, shaking the crimson blood droplets from the blade.

Seeing this, Mu Chen clicked his tongue in disbelief.

Good heavens, the princess of the Luo God Clan had a heavier thirst for blood than he did.

He had originally intended to keep two alive for separate interrogations to cross-verify their stories and prevent collusion.

Forget it, one survivor would have to do. He casually slapped the unconscious man awake.

"Mu Chen, you cannot afford to provoke the people behind me."

"If you're smart, you'll let me go immediately."

The human youth in the grey robe woke up groggily.

When he recalled what had happened, he immediately sneered at the two who were looking at him with unfriendly expressions, threatening viciously: "Otherwise, hiss."

"What are you doing?"

The human youth, who had been rambling on about how powerful the forces behind him were, suddenly felt a sharp pain in his lower limbs.

He looked down and saw Mu Chen holding a dagger, slicing through the muscles of his leg.

"Ah, it's nothing, just cutting for fun. Do go on."

Mu Chen replied without even raising his head.

He continued to cut into the wound, widening the gash as fresh blood flowed freely.

The intense agony triggered a violent stress response in the grey-clad youth, causing cold sweat to pour down his face, his skin to flush crimson, and his body to convulse as he hissed in pain.

"Haha, do you really think a mere torture like this will make me submit?"

"Hmph. Keep dreaming."

Believing himself to be made of iron, the grey-clad youth gasped, putting on a brave front: "Even if I, Wang Ze, were to die from the pain, I would never—hiss, what are you doing now?"

With the pain intensifying throughout his body, his speech became fragmented.

His tone grew increasingly irritable; was this guy sick?

What other methods did he want to use to torture me!

Mu Chen crouched by the man's leg and retrieved a jade bottle from his storage artifact, releasing a jet-black insect with wings as thin as cicada silk, which danced upon his fingertip.

Black Fire Flying Ant, a low-level spirit beast.

A single one might be insignificant, comparable at most to a warrior in the early Spirit Movement stage, but they always appeared in swarms of thousands, possessing terrifying offensive power.

Even high-level spirit beasts could be reduced to a pile of white bones if they encountered them.

"Oh, I saw your thigh was covered in blood and didn't know what kind of villain had wounded you. I couldn't bear to watch, so I thought I'd find a spirit beast to help you lick the wound clean."

"It's fine, keep talking, keep talking."

Mu Chen guided the spirit insect, carefully placing it into the wound.

The taste of fresh blood undoubtedly stimulated the insect; the jet-black Black Fire Flying Ant was instantly agitated, opening its mandibles to tear at the muscle as it burrowed desperately into the depths.

"Black! Fire! Flying! Ant!"

The grey-clad youth, his face filled with horror, recognized the origin of the spirit insect immediately.

With the pain reaching its peak, he gritted his teeth and shouted, word by word.

"It's just a low-level spirit beast."

After saying this, the grey-clad youth felt as if he had exhausted every ounce of his strength.

But the very next moment, his gaze went blank.

Mu Chen released a dense swarm of small spirit insects from the treasure bottle, forming a black cloud that surged toward the wound in a massive, overwhelming wave.

"It's okay, it's okay, just endure it, just endure it."

Sensing the gaze upon him, Mu Chen looked up and spoke in a gentle, soothing tone.

Then, with a sudden wave of his hand, the swarm went berserk.

"Ahhh, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts!!!"

The moment the black cloud descended, an indescribable, searing agony swept through his entire body. Curled into a ball, the grey-clad youth begged for mercy in a hoarse, tearful voice:

"Don't release any more, I'll talk! I'll talk! I'll talk!"

"I, Wang Ze, will tell you everything!!"