Wang Jiaojiao and Wang Aotian were at a stalemate. Finally, Wang Jiaojiao pulled out her hairpin and threatened him with her life. Father, if you do not agree to give me this body, I will die right in front of you!
No, stop!
Wang Aotian turned deathly pale from fright.
He had lived for hundreds of years and changed countless bodies. Perhaps because his cultivation truly damaged his karma, in all those centuries, Wang Jiaojiao was his only daughter.
If Wang Jiaojiao died, his bloodline would be completely severed.
Wang Jiaojiao pressed the hairpin closer to her neck. Father, are you going to agree or not!
Alright, alright, alright, Father agrees, Father agrees, okay?!
Wang Jiaojiao revealed a triumphant smile and finally lowered the hairpin.
Actually, there was no suspense in this dispute.
Wang Jiaojiao relied on being Wang Aotian's only child to act lawlessly and recklessly. No matter how unruly and willful she was, Wang Aotian would eventually compromise.
Just like this confrontation today.
So the disciples in the room were not actually nervous about who would win today's father-daughter clash.
For some reason, the eldest disciple could not help but pay attention to Mu Bai's every move. He noticed Mu Bai glancing at the sky outside the window.
The sun was about to set; it was dusk.
Then, he heard Mu Bai's voice, Have all the disciples in the sect returned?
Although the eldest disciple did not understand why Mu Bai was asking this, he still answered honestly, Once the hour of You arrives, all disciples outside must return to the sect. It is currently the hour of You, so everyone should be back.
That is excellent.
The eldest disciple was confused. What is exce—
Before he could finish speaking, his vision suddenly shifted.
It was not until he heard a thump and realized it was the sound of his own head hitting the ground that he understood his vision had not shifted; his head had rolled off his body.
The head rolled a few times and stopped at Wang Jiaojiao's feet.
She looked down. Before she could clearly see what it was, at the very moment she lowered her head, a cold gleam flashed. With a bang and a spray of blood, her head smashed onto the floor.
Jiaojiao!!!
Wang Aotian screamed in horror.
A wisp of blue light, like a lightning bolt or a venomous snake, darted through the entire room. Before anyone could cry out in alarm, a series of muffled cracks echoed in the air.
Blood mist exploded in the hall, and the sound of shattering bones and flesh rose and fell. The people who were alive just a moment ago were torn to pieces and fell to the ground before they could even let out a complete scream.
Out of instinct, Wang Aotian violently summoned his natal life-saving artifact. Golden light suddenly exploded, and a single longsword multiplied into a hundred, tightly wrapping him in the center.
This was his life-saving trump card cultivated over a hundred years, named the Myriad Tribulations Returning Heart Sword. The layers of sword shadows were like a wall of iron and bronze; even the residual might of a Heavenly Tribulation could be forcefully resisted by thirty percent.
Wang Aotian looked up again, his expression ruthless. Who exactly are you!
From beginning to end, Mu Bai did not say a word, only slowly stepping down the stairs.
His posture was as straight as a cold pine, his black clothes trailing on the ground. His steps were light and slow, yet they carried a crushing sense of oppression.
With every step, the bloody foam on the ground trembled slightly. Blood mist swirled around him, but not a single drop stained his black robes. Instead, it made his ordinary features look cold and detached, like a banished immortal descending to the mortal realm, or an Asura coming to the world.
Is my wife someone the likes of you can covet? Since you harbored wicked thoughts, you shall pay with your tongues. Since you dared to have evil intentions, you shall pay with your lives.
The wide-eyed heads of Wang Jiaojiao and the eldest disciple were struck by a chilling intent again; their tongues were severed and fell to the ground, adding a bit more cruelty and gore.
Ah—! You truly deserve to die!
Wang Aotian took out the life-borrowing post, wanting to use it to make Cangshu Bai die and his soul dissipate, but he saw the words Mu Bai on the post turn into ink stains and disappear.
Wang Aotian realized it too late and roared fiercely, Your name is not Mu Bai! You have been scheming against me from the start!
Mu Bai stood amidst the sky full of sword shadows, his black clothes fluttering without wind, his face not showing a single ripple of emotion.
The overlapping Myriad Tribulations Returning Heart Sword, claimed to be unbreakable for a century, was nothing but a candle in the wind in his eyes.
The blue light was fast and fierce. Wherever it passed, it left spots of frost, and an invisible force exploded with a bang.
A crisp shattering sound echoed from the deepest part of the sword array. The golden light and sword shadows cracked inch by inch like glass, fragments flying everywhere, shattering Wang Aotian's spiritual foundation along with them.
Wang Aotian's pupils shrank violently. Just as he wanted to retreat, to beg for mercy, to burst out with his last ounce of strength...
Mu Bai had already stepped in front of him.
With a casual flick of his fingertips, a cold gleam pierced straight through his brow.
No screams, no struggles.
Wang Aotian's body stiffened in place, his eyes wide open, his face full of unwillingness and fear.
Then came another bang. Wang Aotian's head exploded like a flower, and his headless body immediately crashed heavily into the pool of blood, devoid of life.
Mu Bai slowly withdrew his hand. His black clothes remained spotless, and the fingertips hanging by his side were not stained with even a speck of blood.
He lowered his eyes to sweep over the corpses on the ground, his eyes filled with nothing but dead silence and indifference.
Does scheming against you even require effort?
A blood moon had appeared in the sky at some unknown time. The territory of the Changqing Sect was covered by an invisible force. The people inside could not escape, and the people outside were unaware that a massacre was taking place within.
Whether it was the disciples of the Changqing Sect or those elderly customers, all of them turned into exploding blood mist.
And those disciples wrapped from head to toe all knelt before the man, only begging for death.
They were said to be Wang Aotian's personal disciples, but in reality, they were tools raised by Wang Aotian.
Wang Aotian cut out their tongues, forbidding them from telling outsiders the truth, and then borrowed lifespan from them. In just a short time, though young in age, they were full of wrinkles and old.
Yet Wang Aotian would not let them die; he wanted to squeeze out their lives until the very last moment.
As they wished, the cold blade gave them a quick end.
Countless translucent phantoms slowly floated up from the corpses. Those were the people who had died tragically because of those who sought immortality. Now that the people occupying their bodies were dead, their imprisoned souls could also find freedom and enter reincarnation.
At the very moment these countless phantoms ascended, a gentle and vast power faintly emerged from his body.
That was the merit of heaven and earth, formless and immaterial, yet as heavy as the mountains and seas.
He had done it unintentionally, never thinking of saving the suffering or delivering souls, nor seeking the slightest reward. He only wholeheartedly wanted to eliminate the obstacles that might destroy his happy life.
But this thought of protecting his own, this thought of slaying evil, happened to coincide with the compassion of the Heavenly Dao. The merit automatically entered his body, flowing through his meridians to his limbs and bones.
His already unfathomable cultivation actually began to stir faintly under the nourishment of this golden light.
The aura around him suddenly became vast, his robes billowing without wind, his hair flying lightly. A pressure far exceeding before slowly dispersed, and even the air seemed to be slightly distorted by the weight.
There were still people kneeling on the ground begging for mercy, but in the next instant, they died without an intact corpse.
The black-clad, black-haired man was clearly still in the midst of a bloody massacre, yet at this moment, he was surrounded by immortal aura, actually showing signs of breaking through and stepping into a higher realm.
A snow-white hand quietly reached toward the mangled limbs and flesh on the ground. Before it could even touch the blood-stained jade pendant among the remains, it was enveloped by a tall, dark shadow.
A black boot stepped onto the jade pendant.
Mu Ran crouched behind a rock, her entire body trembling. She knew that cultivators had always killed decisively, without needing any reason.
She did not dare to look up, her breath shuddering. A premonition filled her heart that she would not make it out of here alive; perhaps her husband had also died in this massacre.
Under that deathly still and terrifying gaze, she finally could not hold on any longer. Her voice was weak and trembling, laced with a sob, yet she tried with all her might to squeeze out a sentence:
"This... is my husband's jade pendant..."
The man dressed entirely in black crouched down and picked up the jade pendant from the flesh and blood. As his fingertips brushed over it, the bloodstains vanished without a trace. He looked at the top of her head and lowered his voice.
"Is it very important?"
Mu Ran nodded. "Very... very important."
The satiated faint blue light transformed back into the shape of a fish. It returned to its master's side, watching this scene with curiosity.
Its master, wearing a remarkably ordinary face, said, "But I don't want to give it to you. What should we do?"
Han Yu was ecstatic.
Its murderous master had finally stood his ground and would not just mindlessly coax the mistress to make her happy anymore!
Wonderful! He must have recovered his two-hundred-year-old murderous intent through this slaughter!
He finally understood that women were not important!
The girl kept her head lowered, tears suddenly rolling down and falling into the pool of uncoagulated blood by her feet.
One drop, two drops, gently breaking into tiny ripples on the dark red, viscous surface of the blood, before instantly being swallowed by the scarlet, leaving not a single trace behind.
Its master's expression suddenly changed. He hurriedly reached out to wipe the tears from her face, but his fingers inexplicably became stained with smudged black. This man, who was usually the biggest neat freak, actually did not care at all about getting his hands stained black.
He pulled her stiff body into his embrace, kissing the top of her head and coaxing her in a low voice.
"Don't cry. I'll give you whatever you want."
Han Yu rolled its eyes.
It knew it! Expecting its master to stand his ground was like expecting a pig to climb a tree!
However, looking again at its master holding the familiar mistress while wearing an unfamiliar face, why did it suddenly feel the urge to turn green?
