Senior Brother Zhang Would Not Let Up

"Good. You are indeed straightforward, Fellow Daoist. Might I ask your honored name?"

The pavilion master's beautiful eyes shifted as she looked Li Ping'an up and down.

Li Ping'an cupped his hands in salute and said,

"My Daoist name is Qingyangzi. I am an independent cultivator wandering the lands. Recently, I have been serving as a guest elder at a sect nearby. Every so often, I come down the mountain to gather some materials and refine a few pills along the way."

"Oh, I see."

The pavilion master did not ask further. She took a sheet of paper from her robes and handed it to Li Ping'an.

"I find you quite agreeable, Fellow Daoist, so I'll sell you this formula for eight hundred spirit stones."

Eight hundred spirit stones!

Li Ping'an was secretly startled.

Then he remembered that this was a formula for a third-tier medicinal pill.

If she had not thought there was a chance he could refine third-tier pills, she might not have sold it to him at all.

Thus, Li Ping'an put on an indifferent expression and said,

"Oh, then thank you, Fellow Daoist, for selling it to me so cheaply."

Without changing expression, he took out eight hundred spirit stones and handed them to the shop attendant, Zhao Tiezhu, beside him.

Seeing this, Zhao Tiezhu's eyes lit up.

The old master really was an old master. He was truly rich, casually taking out eight hundred spirit stones. Without real strength, one simply could not make such a grand gesture.

"Damn it!"

"Why is Li Ping'an that bastard fine again?"

At the servant affairs office, Wang Steward crouched trembling on the ground, not daring to speak.

Senior Brother Zhang Lu was smashing the office's furnishings, venting the fury in his heart.

How could he not be furious?

He was the dignified chief senior disciple of the Heaven-Piercing Sword Sect's inner sect, his cultivation profound and his strength immense.

Other than those inner sect elders, who did not treat him with utmost respect upon seeing him?

Whatever he wanted, who would not immediately offer it up with both hands?

Yet Li Ping'an, that lowly damned servant—he merely wanted the man dead.

Why had he failed time and time again?

It enraged him beyond measure. He had always held himself in high regard, and whatever he set out to do had to be accomplished.

Even though Li Ping'an himself posed no threat to him and had never done anything to offend him.

So long as Li Ping'an remained alive, however, it felt like a fishbone stuck in his throat—a tremendous humiliation.

"Wang Steward, I don't care! I am giving you one final ultimatum!"

"No matter what method you use, if Li Ping'an is still alive in three days, bring your head to see me!"

After venting his rage, he directly assigned this crushing task and imposed a time limit.

This troubled Wang Steward terribly.

My ancestor, Li Ping'an hasn't even offended you. Why are you clamping down on him and refusing to let go?

You clearly possess such formidable abilities, yet you refuse to act personally. You insist on making little lackeys like us do your dirty work.

Though resentment filled his heart, he kept nodding and agreeing aloud.

"Senior Brother Zhang, rest assured. Three days. Within three days, I will absolutely send that old bastard's soul back to the Western Heaven."

"Good!"

Zhang Lu gradually calmed his anger and said,

"Do not disappoint me. If you accomplish this, I will report it to my master and have you promoted to the inner sect."

Hearing this, Wang Steward was overjoyed.

The outer sect and inner sect were worlds apart.

The inner sect had far richer resources, and one could also meet many more people.

If he entered the inner sect, perhaps he could even take some elder as his master, cast off the label of servant in one stroke, and become a true inner sect disciple.

He would have his own cave abode and receive vast amounts of resources.

At this thought, all the displeasure in Wang Steward's heart vanished like smoke in the wind.

He immediately thumped his chest in assurance.

"Senior Brother, rest assured. Leave this matter to me. I will spare no effort."

"Fine!"

Senior Brother Zhang nodded and said,

"But remember this well. There cannot be the slightest trace of evidence, and it absolutely must not lead back to me. Do you understand?"

"Rest assured."

Wang Steward pounded his chest until it boomed.

"This matter has not the slightest relation to you. I simply dislike the sight of Li Ping'an and want to kill him!"

"Good, very good!"

Senior Brother Zhang was still quite satisfied with Wang Steward.

This fellow was utterly loyal to him. Though he was somewhat incompetent at handling affairs, he still made a decent lackey.

"Very well, I am leaving now. Take this and keep it safe, lest something go wrong again when the time comes."

Before leaving, Zhang Lu took an item from his robes and tossed it to Wang Steward.

Wang Steward caught it and looked at it, immediately overjoyed.

It was a tiny long nail, appearing like a small jet-black blade.

But Wang Steward knew that this was a renowned assassination artifact in the cultivation world.

The Soul-Piercing Nail!

So long as spiritual power was injected into it and it was thrown at the target, the Soul-Piercing Nail would automatically lock onto the target's aura.

It would not rest until it had pierced straight through them.

Moreover, once activated, even ordinary cultivators in the Foundation Establishment Realm might not be able to withstand it.

Such an item was therefore extremely sought after in the cultivation world and sold for over a thousand spirit stones on the market.

Senior Brother Zhang had actually been so generous as to casually reward him with the Soul-Piercing Nail.

Now, killing Li Ping'an would be even more convenient.

Wang Steward even began scheming to himself. Perhaps he would not need to use the Soul-Piercing Nail at all to kill Li Ping'an.

Once Li Ping'an was dead, would that not mean he had gained a Soul-Piercing Nail for nothing?

At this thought, Wang Steward was beside himself with joy.

"Fine, Li Ping'an. Now, all that remains is you."

Wang Steward muttered, his eyes brimming with killing intent.

Inside the Waste Hall, the disciples had just finished a day of labor.

Every one of them was covered in grime. They sat on the steps, chatting idly in fits and starts.

At that moment, the doors were pushed open.

A middle-aged man in brocade robes stepped into the Waste Hall.

The man had a full beard and upturned eyes.

He always looked down on others, his mouth turned downward, giving off the impression that he was difficult to get along with.

When everyone saw this middle-aged man enter, they could not help feeling puzzled.

None of them knew who he was.

Yet after entering, the middle-aged man swept his sharp gaze across the room, a hint of disdain appearing at the corner of his mouth.

"Is this how the disciples of your Waste Hall usually conduct themselves?"

Without warning, the middle-aged man suddenly spoke.

His voice was shrill and cutting, deeply unpleasant to hear.

"Who are you?"

A tall, powerfully built Waste Hall disciple stood up and demanded.

He had noticed the middle-aged man the instant he entered. Greatly displeased by his lofty, superior manner, he immediately rose to question him.

"Who am I?"

The middle-aged man stared at the servant disciple and sneered.

Then, without warning, he raised a hand and struck at the burly disciple with a palm from afar.

A surge of spiritual power condensed in his palm and blasted into the burly disciple's chest.

"Pfft!"

With a muffled impact, the burly disciple spat out blood and was sent flying backward, collapsing to the ground without rising again.

"Ah... ah..."

The disciple groaned in agony.

At this sight, everyone sprang to their feet.

Their faces were filled with vigilance and shock.

No one had expected this middle-aged man to suddenly attack.

And judging by the strength he displayed, his cultivation was at least at the fifth level of Qi Refinement.

"You! You..."

A slightly older servant disciple said in a trembling voice,

"What do you mean by this?"

"Hmph!"

The middle-aged man flicked his hand and coldly glanced at the burly man groaning in pain on the ground.

"I am your new steward, Xu Yan," he said coldly.