Wuliang Sword Sect
A middle-aged man in his forties sat upright on a meditation cushion, circulating his cultivation. A thin strand of beard hung beneath his chin.
Though he was cultivating, his sallow face and listless bearing made it obvious at a glance that he was unwell.
This man was Zuo Zimu, leader of the Wuliang Sword Sect's Eastern Branch.
After a long while, Zuo Zimu ended his cultivation and sat there listlessly, a trace of helplessness on his face.
"Still no good. That little brat's mink is too poisonous. There's no way to neutralize it with internal force."
At the thought of the mink's poison in his body, and how he would drop dead within days without the antidote, killing intent appeared on Zuo Zimu's face.
"That little bitch! Once that brat brings back the antidote, I'll have the two of them hacked to death by a flurry of swords!"
As for his vow to release them, Zuo Zimu had never taken it seriously.
Come to think of it, he had been unlucky too.
A few days earlier, while the Wuliang Sword Sect's Eastern and Western Branches were competing for five years' possession of Sword Lake Palace, the Shennong Gang had taken advantage of the chaos to attack.
That would normally have been nothing. Fighting and killing were part of life in the martial world: today you fought me, tomorrow I fought him.
Though the Shennong Gang used strange methods and excelled at poisoning, his Wuliang Sword Sect was no soft persimmon either. But just as the fighting was getting heated, a foolish brat and that damned girl had shown up.
"Damn it!"
The thought sent another surge of anger through Zuo Zimu, and he slapped the meditation platform hard.
At once, one half of the platform, built entirely of old-growth timber, collapsed.
He had spent decades in the martial world, only to end up wounded by a little mink-and a highly poisonous one at that.
Over the past few days, whether it was all in his head or the poison really was so overbearing and impossible to cure, his complexion had worsened day by day, even though he used his internal force to tend his meridians daily.
That damned brat. Once that little bastard finds the antidote, not only will you two die, I'll wipe out your whole families.
After another vicious round of cursing inwardly, Zuo Zimu reached for the medicinal tea beside the platform.
But the tea had already been knocked over when he angrily struck the platform. Suppressing his anger, he called toward the door:
"Someone, bring me some tea."
"Sect leader, sect leader, something terrible has happened!"
Before anyone could answer, a panicked voice came from not far away and quickly approached the side hall where Zuo Zimu lived.
"What are you panicking about?" Hearing the voice, Zuo Zimu lowered his voice and roared back.
Too much had happened in the Wuliang Sword Sect these past few days, leaving everyone on edge. Hearing someone cry out in alarm outside only displeased him further. He grabbed the treasured sword from the wall and bounded out in a few strides.
"Are you Zuo Zimu?"
Before Zuo Zimu could rebuke the panicked disciple, a voice came from high above.
A figure stood suspended in midair, a black robe covering his body and leaving only his face exposed. That face was gaunt and as terrifying as a skeleton in a tomb!
"Are you a man or a ghost?!"
Even a veteran of the martial world like Zuo Zimu could not help thinking of ghosts and spirits when he first saw Xu Xiao's face.
But the moment he spoke, he struck Xu Xiao's reverse scale.
Another blind fool.
The words had barely left Zuo Zimu's mouth when he realized they were inappropriate.
In the martial world, strange and extraordinary people like this were the last ones to provoke. He had only blurted it out because he had been troubled and distracted lately.
Unfortunately, there was no medicine for regret in this world, and he was not a protagonist like Duan Yu who could receive special treatment.
Swish!
Spinning pieces of iron flew from a pocket in Xu Xiao's robe and shot toward Zuo Zimu with the speed of lightning, too fast for him to cover his ears.
This is bad!
Zuo Zimu was a skilled fighter with some renown in the martial world. Unlike Duan Yu, who could not even see the iron pieces move, he could make out dark shapes flying from Xu Xiao.
But seeing the dark shapes was all he could do.
Before Zuo Zimu could draw the long sword in his hand, the dark shapes had already pierced through him.
Blood spurted from his body, and five glaring wounds appeared on his still-standing form.
"So... so fast... hidden weapons..."
Zuo Zimu glanced down at the bloody holes in his body and fell to the ground, dying with his eyes open. This time, he had paid for his slip of the tongue.
"You've been in the martial world for years, yet you still can't keep your mouth shut. Then you should pay the price for your actions."
Xu Xiao spoke coldly from high above.
For him, killing had already become a habitual way of settling matters.
In the apocalypse, everyone killed without cease for a mouthful of food or a warm place to stay.
But that had been for survival. Now Xu Xiao killed simply because he was displeased.
Though it sounded a little excessive, wasn't this precisely the privilege of the strong?
Wasn't it precisely why he had risked his life to obtain power?
If he did not want to be casually crushed to death over a single remark, then he would become the one who could easily crush others to death.
That was also why Xu Xiao worked so hard. He did not want to be at the bottom, where anyone could dispose of him at will.
The servants attending Zuo Zimu nearby had long since fled in terror, leaving only the disciple who had come to report to him.
Seeing Zuo Zimu become a corpse in a single exchange with Xu Xiao, the disciple on the ground did not even dare run.
"Sect leader!" the disciple who had come to deliver the news wailed. Then he hurriedly dropped to his knees and kowtowed desperately to Xu Xiao.
"Immortal, spare me! Immortal, spare me! It was my sect leader who misspoke, not me!"
At the Wuliang Sword Sect's entrance just now, this fellow had already seen a fellow disciple killed by Xu Xiao for speaking rudely.
He had rushed in, panicked, to report to Zuo Zimu, never expecting him to meet the same fate.
"All right, stop kowtowing. I won't kill you," Xu Xiao said from the sky.
He was just a minor lackey, after all; there was no need to kill him. Besides, Xu Xiao's main reason for being at the Wuliang Sword Sect was still to find Zhong Ling.
Time was life. Xu Xiao had just begun learning the Northern Darkness Divine Art, and this was when he was most absorbed in martial arts.
He could hardly wait to find Zhong Ling so he could return and properly follow Duan Yu in cultivation.
"Where's the young girl surnamed Zhong that you captured? Take me to her."
"I know, I know! Immortal, please follow me."
Hearing that Xu Xiao would not kill him, the Wuliang Sword Sect disciple on the ground was overjoyed and hurriedly led the way to Zhong Ling.
At the same time, he thought to himself,
If we'd known that little grandaunt had someone this formidable backing her, why would we have locked her up?
Unfortunately, there was no knowing beforehand in this world. If you provoked someone you should not have, you had to pay the corresponding price.
Everything went smoothly. In a side room of the Wuliang Sword Sect, Xu Xiao soon found Zhong Ling, whom Duan Yu was worried about.
She was a young girl with bright eyes and gleaming teeth. Though she was locked in a room, she looked full of life.
Zhong Ling was fast asleep; it was not yet time for her to get up.
The Wuliang Sword Sect disciple smartly stepped forward and opened the lock. Xu Xiao walked straight up to Zhong Ling and gave the sleeping girl a shake:
"You're Zhong Ling, right? Duan Yu asked me to..."
"A ghost!"
Zhong Ling woke groggily from her dream and looked up to see Xu Xiao's face. Her eyes rolled back, and she fainted on the spot.
Seriously! Do you people have to be such cowards?!
Another one scared unconscious!
Xu Xiao felt his forehead throbbing. Without caring that she was still unconscious, he swung her onto his shoulder and walked away with a dark face.