AVL Chapter 30

Xi Jianlan stared at Sheng Jiao with a blank face.

 

Sheng Jiao said, “Want to curse?”

 

“Mm.” Xi Jianlan replied softly, “Is that okay?”

 

“No.”

 

“Oh.” Xi Jianlan looked like a scolded little wife, gently reaching out and saying even more softly, “—Dongrong.”

 

In the next instant, a chill swept the cabin as the dazed Dongrong Sword landed in his hand with a “pa!” Xi Jianlan didn’t even blink as he mercilessly slashed at Sheng Jiao’s brow.

 

Sheng Jiao: “…”

 

Dongrong: “…”

 

This man’s face-changing speed was too fast.

 

Xi Jianlan never played around when fighting; he truly meant to strike. The Dongrong Sword was razor-sharp, and even without spiritual power, its swing brought a terrifying whoosh.

 

Sheng Jiao’s protective barrier flashed, forcibly blocking Dongrong Sword.

 

Dongrong started up again: “Aaaah—”

 

Xi Jianlan was always strict with others and lenient with himself. He could tease and provoke others, but when it was his turn, he’d get angry and slash with his sword.

 

A wave of embarrassment roared in his heart, making him want to jump off the riverboat and die, but on the surface he remained expressionless, shattering the barrier with his sword.

 

Dongrong Sword’s intent was icy, slicing straight for Sheng Jiao’s neck.

 

Sheng Jiao suddenly grabbed the cold blade an inch from his throat.

 

Xi Jianlan, after all, had no spiritual power, so the blade wouldn’t move another inch.

 

The two were deadlocked.

 

Sensing the murderous intent, Sheng Jiao suddenly asked, “Back then, what did Rang Chen say to you?”

 

Xi Jianlan’s hand froze. He replied coldly, “He said I’m actually your real father, and you’ll have to carry my coffin at my funeral.”

 

With that, he kicked out.

 

Sheng Jiao reacted quickly, grabbing his ankle and yanking hard. Xi Jianlan staggered to his knees, nearly falling into Sheng Jiao’s arms.

 

Dongrong Sword slipped from his grasp and was caught by Sheng Jiao.

 

A flash of cold light.

 

Sheng Jiao expressionlessly pinned Xi Jianlan to the cushion, Dongrong Sword scraping past his neck and stabbing straight into the floor, the sword’s hum making the tassel tremble.

 

Killing intent pressed against Xi Jianlan’s neck, instantly frosting over the pendant on his ear.

 

Xi Jianlan didn’t know the meaning of “admit defeat.” Even when pinned down, he remained arrogant, struggling to grip Sheng Jiao’s knee with all his strength.

 

His fingertip pierced his palm, and poisonous blood oozed out.

 

Because of Heng Yudu’s “Exchange for Bright Moon,” the two, standing on opposite sides, were like spiders on a thread high above, barely maintaining a fragile peace.

 

Now, a small breeze broke that delicate balance.

 

Sheng Jiao looked down at him from above. The riverboat had just broken through thick clouds, and a sliver of moonlight slipped through the ivory window, shining on his cold face like a blade’s edge.

 

“So… what he said was, I would one day kill you, right?”

 

Xi Jianlan’s pupils shrank, his face full of fear. He ignored the sword at his neck, struggling to kick at Sheng Jiao.

 

“Get off!”

 

Sheng Jiao coldly withdrew the sword and stood up.

 

Xi Jianlan quickly retreated a few steps, but the cabin was too small. Unable to stop in time, he stumbled out, his lower back hitting the frosty corridor railing, sharp ice slicing a bloody line in his palm.

 

Sheng Jiao frowned and stepped forward, as if to help him.

 

Xi Jianlan hissed, clutching his hand, cold sweat breaking out from the pain.

 

He was just about to curse when he looked up—and suddenly froze.

 

In the corridor outside their cabin, at some point dozens of masked men in black, armed with blades, had quietly gathered at the wooden door. Their posture—

 

Looked like they were about to launch a sneak attack or assassination.

 

Xi Jianlan and the men in black stared wide-eyed at each other, all at a loss.

 

After a while, Xi Jianlan glanced at the puppet talismans from Ying Zhuo on their weapons, and the corner of his mouth twitched: “You’re here on Qiao’er’s orders to kill Sheng Jiao?”

 

The group hesitated, then nodded.

 

“Idiots!” Xi Jianlan, finally finding an outlet, vented all his earlier shame and embarrassment on these wooden puppets, sharply scolding, “Then what are you standing around for? If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss this year’s Ghost Festival! Go on, get to it!”

 

The group: “…”

 

They’d originally planned to quietly drug the people in the cabin before making a move, but since Xi Jianlan had exposed them, the men in black simply stopped hesitating and charged at Sheng Jiao with their blades.

 

“Truly useless.”

 

Xi Jianlan sat on the railing with a huff, not bothering to watch the bloody fight.

 

Beyond the railing was bright moonlight, a sea of clouds, and wild wind. The wooden rail was so thin that even a slight misstep could send him plummeting thousands of feet, beyond the help of even immortals.

 

But Xi Jianlan seemed to know no fear, swinging his legs leisurely, tearing a strip from his robe to wrap his wounded palm, hissing with pain every time he tied it.

 

After ten hisses, he bit down on the cloth, tied a messy knot, and looked up again.

 

…The whole corridor was now littered with bodies, their fate unknown.

 

Sheng Jiao was completely unharmed, coldly flicking Winter Snow Sword and meeting Xi Jianlan’s gaze with icy indifference.

 

Xi Jianlan: “…”

 

Sheng Jiao strode over with a grim face.

 

Xi Jianlan turned, letting his legs dangle outside the riverboat, and said warily, “Just stay there. Let’s talk.”

 

Sheng Jiao stopped, frowning: “Come down.”

 

“You guessed right.” Xi Jianlan didn’t even hold the rail, his thin body swaying in the wind, voice cold, “Six years ago, Rang Chen used his xiangwen to foresee my death—Lord Heaven’s Will, you’re the one who’ll kill me.”

 

Sheng Jiao’s pupils shrank.

 

Xi Jianlan’s voice seemed about to vanish in the wind.

 

“If I want to live, I have to kill you.”

 

By rights, “Exchange for Bright Moon’s” ‘listen, obey, protect’ could make Sheng Jiao do anything, but Xi Jianlan had always been cautious, afraid Sheng Jiao’s cultivation was too high and would break free if pushed too far.

 

If that happened, Sheng Jiao, having faced a threat to his life, might strike him down without a second thought.

 

Xi Jianlan didn’t dare gamble.

 

“‘Glimpsing Heaven’s Secrets’ never errs. If I’m destined to die by your hand, then it’s only right I try to kill you first to save myself,” Xi Jianlan murmured. “Lord Heaven’s Will, you’d understand, right?”

 

Sheng Jiao: “…”

 

How did Xi Jianlan have the nerve to say things like this without blushing?

 

And so self-righteously.

 

As if Sheng Jiao was the one in the wrong for taking it seriously.

 

A vein throbbed on Sheng Jiao’s forehead. He raised a hand: “Come down.”

 

“Lord Heaven’s Will, I just want to—”

 

“Xi Jianlan.” Sheng Jiao suddenly said.

 

—It was the first time he’d called Xi Jianlan by his courtesy name.

 

Xi Jianlan was stunned.

 

Sheng Jiao’s dark eyes seemed to see right through him. Coldly, he said: “I don’t want to keep exposing your lies. Enough—come down.”

 

Xi Jianlan: “…”

 

Xi Jianlan cursed under his breath, wiped the feigned expression from his face, and lightly jumped down from the railing.

 

“If you don’t believe me, why ask?!” Xi Jianlan snapped, “If you want to know what Rang Chen told me, go ask him yourself.”

 

Sheng Jiao, seeing he’d finally come down, turned his gaze away coldly.

 

Xi Jianlan kicked one of the fallen puppets, muttering “useless,” and deliberately bumped Sheng Jiao’s shoulder as he walked past.

 

But Sheng Jiao was tall and unmovable as a mountain; Xi Jianlan just bounced off to the side.

 

“You…”

 

Xi Jianlan glared at him, wanting to start trouble again, but his gaze accidentally landed on Sheng Jiao’s hand, which looked like it had been chewed by a dog, and he suddenly wilted.

 

He silently climbed onto the soft couch, grabbed Sheng Jiao’s neatly folded outer robe, wrapped himself up, and curled up to sleep.

 

“Does Sheng Wuzhuo have some magic treasure that sees through people’s hearts?”

 

Otherwise, how could he always tell which of Xi Jianlan’s words were true and which were lies?

 

Xi Jianlan couldn’t figure it out, and, breathing in the scent of osmanthus on Sheng Jiao’s robe, drifted off to sleep.

 

The two parted in a huff.

 

They didn’t speak a word until the next morning when the riverboat descended.

 

Dawn broke.

 

Sleepy-eyed, Xi Jianlan, draped in a Xiezhi-patterned robe, walked along the sunlit corridor, gaze drifting downward.

 

The sunlight was fierce, and the thick frost on the riverboat’s outer layer melted inch by inch, dripping down like a light rain.

 

They had arrived in Central State.

 

Six years ago, Xi Jianlan had fled Central State’s three territories in disgrace, falling from a favored son of heaven to having nothing; he’d wandered everywhere, but because of the Xiezhi Sect’s warrants, had never dared approach Central State.

 

But after all this time, he had returned.

 

Cultivators streamed out of the riverboat in droves, but Xi Jianlan didn’t disembark, instead leaning on the railing with a bright smile, lost in thought.

 

Sheng Jiao didn’t rush him, silently standing to the side.

 

After a while, Xi Jianlan suddenly let out a short laugh.

 

Sheng Jiao asked, “What is it?”

 

Xi Jianlan seemed to be looking through the crowd of ants at all living beings, the corner of his lips curving as if anticipating a grand show about to begin.

 

“How wonderful.

 

“I’m back.

 

“Tonight in Central State… I’m afraid many people won’t be able to sleep.”

 

***

 

Xi Jianlan originally thought Sheng Jiao would take him to Xiezhi Sect and was racking his brains over how to use “Exchange for Bright Moon” to escape, but after walking for quite a while, he realized belatedly—

 

They were actually heading toward the Sheng family.

 

Xi Jianlan sidled up to Juan Xunfang, who was the easiest to get information from, and grinned, “Lord Juan, does Sect Master Sheng usually live at the Sheng family?”

 

Juan Xunfang glared at him: “Don’t try to cozy up to me! I won’t say a word, stay away!”

 

Instead of backing off, Xi Jianlan leaned in even closer, shamelessly saying, “I imagine Lord Juan can see right through what sort of people the Sheng family are. Those short-sighted parasites must have made your sect master suffer a lot over the years, right?”

 

At these words, Juan Xunfang’s resentment toward the Sheng family instantly outweighed his dislike for Xi Jianlan, and he began grumbling bitterly.

 

“Those dogs…”

 

Juan Xunfang seemed about to curse, but catching sight of Sheng Jiao ahead, he swallowed it down and muttered, “Those petty rats, even calling them that dirties my mouth. If it weren’t for the sect master, the Sheng family would have been begging on the streets long ago—how would they be living in such glory now?!”

 

Xi Jianlan asked with interest, “Glory?”

 

The Xi family had once been too glorious and was destroyed for it. With that lesson, would the Sheng family really dare show off?

 

“In front of the sect master, of course, they don’t dare. But in private, who knows how many dirty deeds they’ve done without leaving evidence.” Juan Xunfang scowled. “The sect master lives at Xiezhi Sect year-round, sometimes not returning for two or three years, but every festival the Sheng family comes to pester him… Oh, now the Sheng family head is the sect master’s deadbeat father, always using his elder status to pressure him.”

 

Xi Jianlan was amused: “He still counts as an elder? And what does your sect master think of that?”

 

“He has no attitude.” Juan Xunfang grew more frustrated. “As long as the Sheng family doesn’t make some unforgivable mistake, with the sect master’s nature, he won’t be the one to strike first.”

 

Xi Jianlan made a thoughtful “oh.”

 

If Sheng Jiao’s residence was already set at Xiezhi Sect, why bring him back to the Sheng family?

 

Juan Xunfang was still grumbling, but soon brightened: “But this time, with the Xiangwen trading scandal, we’ve finally caught them red-handed. Going back to the Sheng family now, the sect master will definitely be able to put those parasites in their place!”

 

Xi Jianlan thought, “Put them in their place? I doubt it.”

 

Sheng Jiao’s temperament didn’t seem the type to show off.

 

A short while later, the four arrived at the Sheng family.

 

The Sheng family was no longer the shabby little household of a few years ago. Now it was a grand, extravagant estate, shrouded in a semi-transparent blue barrier, with the aura of a spirit-gathering array faintly in the air.

 

Sheng Jiao entered with a blank expression.

 

A servant saw him return and greeted respectfully, “Sect Master, the family head has been waiting for you.”

 

Sheng Jiao said nothing.

 

Xi Jianlan suddenly leaned over to Juan Xunfang and whispered, “That list of Xiangwen traders—who else have you shown it to?”

 

Juan Xunfang wanted to snap “None of your business,” but then paused, looking at him in surprise.

 

“Go check, Lord Juan,” Xi Jianlan said lazily. “Your sect master only cares about justice, nothing else. I’m afraid Xiezhi Sect is riddled with spies from all the noble families.”

 

Juan Xunfang shuddered.

 

Passing through pavilions and corridors, they could see from a distance that the Sheng family’s main hall was packed with people. Xi Jianlan squinted, and upon spotting someone, suddenly bounced with excitement.

 

He’d been in a foul mood since yesterday, not giving Sheng Jiao a good face, but now he was suddenly overjoyed, as if he’d spotted a lover, moving lightly with eyes shining.

 

Sheng Jiao followed his gaze coldly.

 

The entire hall was filled with nothing but a pack of the Sheng family’s cronies.

 

“Who did you see?” Sheng Jiao asked.

 

Xi Jianlan’s smile deepened, and he murmured, “An… enemy.”

 

His tone was so gentle, as if meeting a long-lost lover, his eyes like water, genuine joy with not a trace of pretense.

 

Sheng Jiao suddenly remembered what Xi Jianlan had said on the riverboat…

 

“If anyone humiliates me like that, I’d risk my life just to see them dead.”

 

Xi Jianlan stared at someone in the hall, his fingertips trembling with excitement.

 

“He hasn’t left Central State in so long.” Xi Jianlan pressed his trembling fingertips to his lips and bit down hard, the pain instantly stopping the tremor. He licked his fingertip and said softly, “I really missed him.”

 

His state was clearly off—so unhealthy it was chilling.

 

Sheng Jiao suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him back, saying coldly, “Go rest at my place.”

 

“It’s early morning, why rest?” Xi Jianlan smiled. “What, afraid I’ll kill someone on the spot?”

 

Sheng Jiao said nothing.

 

“Relax, I have no spiritual power now, even if I have grudges I couldn’t act on them.” Xi Jianlan lazily withdrew his hand. “Look, your dad looks like he’s about to eat you alive. If I don’t go with you, you and those two blockheads Juan Xunfang and Shang Yuan will definitely suffer.”

 

Sheng Jiao: “I won’t.”

 

Xi Jianlan knew those people were here to beg Xiezhi Sect to spare the Xiangwen traders, but he also knew Sheng Jiao would never give in.

 

Xi Jianlan, always vengeful, certainly wouldn’t let those rotten-hearted villains of the Sheng family off easy.

 

“Nagging. I’m helping you out and you still complain so much.”

 

Xi Jianlan grabbed Sheng Jiao’s hand in return and happily jogged up the steps.

 

As soon as Sheng Jiao entered the hall, all eyes turned to him, filled with fear, resentment, pleading, and deep estrangement.

 

They definitely weren’t looking at family.

 

The Sheng family head was named Sheng Zhongfeng. He sat in a chair, and when he saw Sheng Jiao approach, he just drooped his brows, putting on the airs of an elder, waiting for Sheng Jiao to bow.

 

To his left and right were the branch uncle Sheng Biyan, and a man who looked five or six tenths like Sheng Zhongfeng.

 

“What was his name again?” Xi Jianlan tilted his head, thinking, “Oh right, Sheng Zehuai.”

 

His gaze swept around the room, finally settling—cold and silent—on a man in the corner.

 

Ordinary-looking, like a frail scholar, but Xi Jianlan would recognize him even in death.

 

—It was the former Xiezhi Sect adjudicator, Qu Xiangren.

 

Sheng Jiao walked over at a measured pace, only nodding and saying coldly, “Family Head.”

 

Sheng Zhongfeng’s face twitched, and he slammed the table in anger: “Well, now that you’ve grown wings, you don’t even recognize your own father?!”

 

Sheng Jiao didn’t even blink, as if he’d only come to inform Sheng Zhongfeng, and turned to leave with Xi Jianlan.

 

Sheng Zhongfeng’s face turned green.

 

Xi Jianlan’s gaze slid past Qu Xiangren as if he were just a stranger passing by, and he smiled, “Uncle Sheng, don’t be angry.”

 

Wearing Sheng Jiao’s oversized Xiezhi-patterned robe, Xi Jianlan was so quiet he was almost invisible. Everyone assumed he was just one of Sheng Jiao’s subordinates and hadn’t spared him a glance.

 

But as soon as he spoke, several gazes shot toward Xi Jianlan.

 

When they saw that unfamiliar yet familiar face, everyone froze.

 

Qu Xiangren’s pupils contracted slightly, a flash of ruthless coldness flickering in his eyes.

 

Xi Jianlan had always looked younger than his peers, and after six years, his face had lost its childishness but still looked like a youth untouched by the world. When his eyes curved and he crisply called “Uncle Sheng,” Sheng Zhongfeng’s lips twitched, an inexplicable sense of foreboding rising in his heart.

 

Back then, whenever Sheng Jiao was punished by Sheng Zhongfeng, if Xi Jue happened to be there, he’d always chatter away, never using a single curse word but infuriating Sheng Zhongfeng to the point of smoke coming out of his ears.

 

And at that time, Young Immortal Lord Xi’s status was so noble he couldn’t be scolded or hit—Sheng Zhongfeng could only swallow his anger.

 

Now…

 

Before Sheng Zhongfeng could speak, an old white-bearded elder from the Qu family turned pale and shouted harshly, “Sect Master Sheng, why haven’t you locked up this traitor who slaughtered the entire Xi family in Xiezhi Sect? How dare you let him roam free?!”

 

By now, almost all of Central State knew that Sheng Jiao had captured the fugitive Xi Jianlan after six years, but no one expected that not only had Sheng Jiao not tortured or restrained him, he had even brought him openly to the Sheng family.

 

Everyone’s gaze at Xi Jianlan was strange.

 

Some were fearful, some guilty, some even trembling.

 

Sheng Jiao shot the elder a cold look.

 

The Qu elder shuddered as if struck by heavenly thunder, unable to utter another word.

 

Xi Jianlan didn’t care about the Qu family’s nonsense, focusing on infuriating Sheng Zhongfeng. He grinned, “Uncle Sheng, my condolences. It’s tough to have to arrange two funerals in the family at once.”

 

The two Sheng family members involved in Xiangwen trading hadn’t even been sent to Xiezhi Sect yet, let alone sentenced to death.

 

No one was dead—what funerals?

 

At these words, Juan Xunfang and Shang Yuan, who’d been bracing for more trouble, struggled to hold back their laughter.

 

Sheng Zhongfeng was so shocked by the words “my condolences” that his eyes nearly popped out. He roared, “What do you think you are? Get out of here!”

 

“Hee, I won’t.” Xi Jianlan was even more at ease than Sheng Jiao, leisurely picking a seat, crossing his legs, and calling for a servant, “There’s a good show today, bring me some osmanthus tea—I want to enjoy it, and add some honey.”

 

The servant was stunned.

 

Sheng Jiao glanced at him, and the servant quickly nodded and hurried off to get the tea.

 

Sheng Zhongfeng seemed to realize something, his face dark as he turned on Sheng Jiao, saying coldly, “Do you really feel nothing for your own blood?”

 

Sheng Jiao said nothing, answering with silence.

 

“Fine, fine.” Sheng Zhongfeng laughed in rage, repeating “fine” twice. “Sect Master Sheng, you really are upright and just, sacrificing even your own kin for the greater good!”

 

Sheng Jiao wasn’t one to argue; he lowered his gaze and said nothing.

 

Juan Xunfang nearly exploded with anger, but Shang Yuan quickly pulled him back.

 

“How strange, Family Head Sheng,” Xi Jianlan said without a care, propping his head on his hand as if puzzled. “Wasn’t it you who once complained Sheng Jiao was too emotional and couldn’t distinguish right from wrong, so you sent him to Shentian She for two months? Now you want him to bend the law for personal reasons? How come you get to have it both ways?”

 

Juan Xunfang, who’d been fuming, suddenly felt a surge of satisfaction and found Xi Jianlan much more pleasing to the eye.

 

That mouth really could talk—as long as it wasn’t aimed at him.

 

Sheng Zhongfeng was instantly choked: “You! You!”

 

Xi Jianlan pointed at himself: “Ah, me, me, what about me?”

 

Sheng Zhongfeng completely lost his composure, cursing, “You little bastard!”

 

Finally, Sheng Jiao spoke coldly: “Juan Xunfang.”

 

Juan Xunfang, struggling not to laugh, bowed his head: “Sect Master.”

 

“Sheng Zehuai, take him to Xiezhi Sect. The rest, arrest them all within one day.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Sheng Zhongfeng’s face changed completely.

 

The other nobles who had come to plead for mercy couldn’t sit still, quickly standing up and pleading in low voices—even Qu Xiangren frowned, sensing things were going badly.

 

“Sect Master Sheng, please calm down. This… let’s discuss it. No one was actually killed, is it really necessary to be so ruthless?”

 

“Yes, yes, Sect Master, please reconsider.”

 

“At least spare a life. We’ll make sure to teach them a lesson!”

 

Sheng Jiao was unmoved.

 

Even the always calm Sheng Zehuai was shocked, turning to Sheng Zhongfeng and stammering, “Brother, save me!”

 

He’d been caught with evidence of Xiangwen trading—a serious crime.

 

Now, being sent to Xiezhi Sect was as good as a death sentence.

 

“Sheng Wuzhuo!” Sheng Zhongfeng slammed the table. “Are you rebelling?!”

 

The Sheng family members nearby all drew their swords.

 

The usually quiet Shang Yuan’s eyes flashed with a hint of red killing intent, and she silently pressed her hand to the sword at her waist.

 

Sheng Jiao looked at all the blades pointed at him and suddenly said, “Fine, no need to take them to Xiezhi Sect.”

 

Juan Xunfang panicked: “Sect Master!”

 

Sheng Zhongfeng silently let out a breath of relief.

 

Sheng Zehuai was drenched in cold sweat, his heart pounding with the terror of having just escaped death.

 

The tense atmosphere in the hall finally eased; the swords were no longer drawn.

 

As long as Sheng Jiao could be persuaded, everything would be fine.

 

Sheng Jiao’s face remained expressionless. His fingers moved ever so slightly in his sleeve, and just as Xi Jianlan was happily sipping his osmanthus tea, he suddenly felt his earring twist and all sound around him vanished again.

 

Suddenly, a blinding flash of lightning cut across his vision.

 

Xi Jianlan was so startled his hand shook, nearly spilling his tea.

 

Sheng Jiao’s Tianyan pearls spun rapidly on his wrist, all 106 beads stopping on “Execute.”

 

As the last bead settled, a deafening thunder penalty crashed down from the heavens, piercing straight through the hall’s roof and beams, striking Sheng Zehuai squarely on the crown of his head.

 

In that final instant, his face still wore an unfinished smile—he didn’t even feel any pain before he silently turned to dust, scattering to the floor.

 

A small mound of hot ashes slowly gathered.

 

Everyone was stunned by the earth-shattering heavenly thunder.

 

Sheng Zhongfeng stared dazedly at the spot where his brother had just stood, now nothing left, standing dumbly amidst the ruins, unable to recover for a long time.

 

Sheng Biyan, who had always been uneasy around Sheng Jiao since his youth, had been waiting for Sheng Zhongfeng to handle things. But now, seeing the still-warm ashes and broken white bones, his face went deathly pale. He could no longer hold himself up and collapsed to the ground, filled with terror and despair.

 

Sheng Zehuai…

 

Had committed the same crime as his son.

 

If Sheng Jiao would kill his own uncle, what mercy could he have for a distant branch brother?

 

The entire hall was now a ruin, scorched black by thunder, with only the ground beneath Xi Jianlan’s feet left clean.

 

Sheng Jiao stood on the burning, cracked earth, his eyes devoid of emotion, not even bothering to move his lips.

 

“Family head, anything else?”

 

Sheng Zhongfeng’s eyes were bloodshot with hatred, his voice low and guttural like a cornered beast: “Sheng Wuzhuo! How dare you?!”

 

Sheng Jiao was a stone that could never be warmed or melted, utterly ignorant of emotion.

 

The terrifying thing was…

 

Such a heartless, soulless monster was made by their own hands.

 

Sheng Jiao nodded.

 

No, it seemed there was nothing else.

 

He looked at Xi Jianlan.

 

Xi Jianlan’s earring was working again. He probably hadn’t expected Sheng Jiao to kill so decisively, and now sat there trembling, clutching his osmanthus tea for comfort, his legs no longer crossed, looking utterly well-behaved.

 

The hall was silent; no one dared speak.

 

Soon, Xi Jianlan finished his tea in small sips.

 

Sheng Jiao said, “Let’s go.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Xi Jianlan, like a little chick, obediently followed wherever Sheng Jiao went.

 

In the hall, Sheng Zhongfeng’s gaze at Sheng Jiao was venomous, his hand at his side clenched so tightly that his bones cracked.

 

Just as Sheng Jiao reached the steps, Elder Qu suddenly found the courage to rush forward, shouting, “Sect Master Sheng! If you’re so impartial and righteous, what about Xi Jue?!”

 

Sheng Jiao paused.

 

Elder Qu pointed at the innocent-faced Xi Jianlan, gritting his teeth: “Back then at Xiezhi Sect, it was clearly his own fault that his spiritual-level xiangwen was destroyed, but he pinned it on my Qu family, ruining us! Three years ago, my elder brother was killed in the Southern Territory—he did it too!”

 

Xi Jianlan blinked, then suddenly laughed: “You’re really going to try that trick right to my face? I’m a cripple now, how could I have killed your elder?”

 

Elder Qu was furious: “It was definitely you!”

 

Sheng Jiao looked at him coldly: “Evidence.”

 

Elder Qu was speechless.

 

The corpse that had been so hard to recover…

 

Had no lingering spiritual power, only that the heart had been crushed by hand.

 

Xi Jianlan sighed: “You want me to confess without a shred of evidence? That’s so unfair. If I were a bit more hot-tempered, I’d sue Xiezhi Sect for slander and ruining my reputation.”

 

Elder Qu was so angry his beard nearly flew off!

 

This bastard—what reputation does he have left?!

 

Sheng Jiao turned to leave.

 

Juan Xunfang and Shang Yuan hurried after him.

 

For once, the two felt completely satisfied, striding out with beaming faces.

 

Elder Qu trembled with rage, his eyes like knives as he glared at Xi Jianlan’s back, wishing he could tear him to pieces.

 

But no matter how angry they were, none dared act in front of Sheng Jiao.

 

Just then, as Xi Jianlan brought up the rear, he suddenly turned sideways.

 

On his beautiful, striking face appeared a strange, bewitching smile, dazzling in the morning sun like a blooming poppy.

 

Xi Jianlan stretched out his slender finger, pointing twice—once at Elder Qu, and once at Qu Xiangren by the threshold.

 

Qu Xiangren’s whole body radiated barely concealed killing intent, staring coldly at him.

 

Xi Jianlan’s every move was as elegant as an orchid in the wind. He delicately pinched his fingertips at his own chest, as if grasping someone’s heart.

 

Suddenly, his long fingers spread open, as beautiful as a snow lotus in bloom.

 

Xi Jianlan’s brows curved with a hint of spring, his red lips moving lightly. Like a mischievous child, he smiled and mouthed silently:

 

—“Pop.”

 

Elder Qu and Qu Xiangren’s pupils contracted sharply.

 

It really was him!

 

Sheng Jiao seemed to sense something and turned to look.

 

Xi Jianlan cheerfully withdrew his hand and skipped over, like a happy, obedient little deer.

 

##

 

---

 

 (advanced chapters available on kofi)