Chapter Sixty-Four: Rescuing Tang Yi and Song Mo from Grave Injuries, Retreating the Shadow Demon as Wan Yi Steps In

The celestial officer summoned the Six Ding, and thunder and lightning descended to capture the foe.

A bolt of purple lightning, as thick as a thumb, tore through the black mist that Master Xiaoshan had conjured. Through the rent cut open by the lightning, Song Mo and Xia Yu widened their eyes, peering anxiously into the darkness. Yet, no matter how hard they searched, they could not spot any sign of Tang Yi. Song Mo quickly cast an inquiring glance at Xia Yu, whose face was equally filled with confusion and panic.

“Could it be that Master Xiaoshan has spirited him away to some other place again?” Song Mo began to grow truly anxious.

Suddenly, a flash of white light dazzled before their eyes.

When they looked again, the missing Tang Yi was reappearing, moving at an astonishing speed, blade slashing straight for Master Xiaoshan’s throat.

This time, Tang Yi’s footwork transformed, his steps in harmony with the Willow Leaf Blade, becoming even more ruthless and deadly.

“The Nine Palaces Eight Trigrams Step? You have some skill after all,” a flicker of surprise flashed in Master Xiaoshan’s eyes, but it was soon replaced by chilling intent to kill.

If before he had harbored some apprehension about Tang Yi and Song Mo’s identities as Demon Suppressors—especially the phantom of the Qiongqi looming behind Song Mo—now he was wholly resolved to kill.

Master Xiaoshan had long heard of the Demon Suppression Bureau’s fearsome reputation. If even a whisper of this incident were to escape, the entire Sheep’s Gut Mountain would be drowned in blood.

The Daoist Seven Stars Step was defensive, as steady as a boulder. The Nine Palaces Eight Trigrams Step, however, balanced offense and defense—like an open alchemy furnace, liable to leak true fire at the slightest misstep.

Tang Yi was fighting in earnest now. The Willow Leaf Blade in his hand had but one technique: speed.

So swift that it left no trace, so swift that it needed no form—an ambush that filled the air with killing intent.

Even with Song Mo exerting all his invoking arts, Tang Yi’s blade was still nearly impossible to track.

All Song Mo saw was a white dragon’s tail flicking, shining cold and keen, stabbing straight for Master Xiaoshan’s throat.

“Pity, you’re still too inexperienced, and that blade is far from enough,” Master Xiaoshan snorted coldly.

Just as Tang Yi’s blade was about to strike, Master Xiaoshan moved.

His motion appeared slow—at least to everyone else.

But in Tang Yi’s eyes, Master Xiaoshan seemed to flit like a ghost behind him, his previous form dissolving into mist.

In truth, Master Xiaoshan was not slow, but so fast that he had left an afterimage behind!

Tang Yi’s heart lurched with terror. He forced his footwork to its very limits, barely managing to shift his stance, the Willow Leaf Blade slashing once more at Master Xiaoshan without losing its momentum.

With a metallic clang, Master Xiaoshan’s right-hand wrist blade blocked the Willow Leaf Blade with ease.

“Be careful—my brother wields twin blades!” Suddenly, the usually silent Zhao Yueshu called out in alarm.

“What? Twin blades?” Song Mo realized too late that something was wrong.

Those who use wrist blades as their weapon often fight with two; Master Xiaoshan had only used his right hand, causing the three to overlook the possibility. It was not that he couldn’t wield two blades, he simply disdained to do so!

At that moment, Tang Yi too realized the peril he was in, but it was already too late.

“Hmph!” Master Xiaoshan grunted, the crimson patterns on his right wrist blade glowing fiercely, as ghostly blue demonic fire burst forth.

Tang Yi’s vision was obscured, but trusting his instincts, he raised his blade to parry.

A sharp crack rang out—the Willow Leaf Blade snapped cleanly in two.

“Brother, please, don’t shed more blood—they are innocent!” Zhao Yueshu cried out, desperate to stop him, but with murder in his heart, how could Master Xiaoshan let this opportunity slip by?

The Willow Leaf Blade was broken, and Tang Yi was left with only half a blade. He quickly retreated, executing the Nine Palaces Eight Trigrams Step.

Zhao Yueshu’s plea distracted Master Xiaoshan for an instant, so his next strike came too late. Instead, he thrust out his palm, sending a wave of demonic energy that struck Tang Yi squarely between the shoulder blades.

Tang Yi’s footwork faltered, and he stumbled to the ground.

Master Xiaoshan, intent on killing, kicked the broken blade on the ground, sending it hurtling toward Tang Yi.

Having taken a full-force blow, his footwork disrupted and suffering internal backlash, Tang Yi was in no state to dodge.

At that critical moment, a figure flashed before Tang Yi.

A broken sword pierced through his chest—clean through.

With two muffled sounds, the two talismans bound to Song Mo's legs burned instantly to ashes.

His Spirit Steed Talisman had been pushed to the brink and destroyed. Having not yet offered thanks to the spirits, who knew what punishment he might face.

But Song Mo had no time to worry about that now, for the broken blade had pierced his right chest, blood gushing forth.

Had it not been for the recent tonic of ginseng fruit replenishing his energy, he would surely have bled to death in that instant.

Master Xiaoshan’s brows knitted, but inwardly he relaxed—such a grave wound and still no sign of the Qiongqi. Clearly, what happened that day had been mere coincidence.

With this thought, Master Xiaoshan began to stride toward Song Mo and Tang Yi.

“That’s enough! Must you stain your hands with even more blood, brother?” Zhao Yueshu now stood before Song Mo and Tang Yi, her voice quivering with emotion as she bit out the word “brother.”

Tears streamed down her face, sorrow overwhelming her features.

“Fox Sister, if I don’t kill them, there will be endless trouble. Have you forgotten how those people treated us all those years ago?” Zhao Yueshu’s grief struck a chord in Master Xiaoshan’s heart, his eyes tinged with helplessness.

“Brother, they are not the same as those people back then. I won’t let you kill them,” Zhao Yueshu said, standing firm before him.

Master Xiaoshan’s expression darkened, lost in thought, yet for the moment he did not attack.

Blood still fresh at the corner of his mouth, Tang Yi fumbled at his waist for the pouch of treasures, soon producing a packet of medicinal powder.

“Hold on—it’ll hurt,” Tang Yi murmured as he poured the powder onto Song Mo’s wound. With a sizzle, white smoke rose as if the wound were set aflame.

“Is that gunpowder?” Song Mo grimaced in pain, but could not resist a jest.

He knew it was no gunpowder—there was a faint floral scent, reminiscent of honeysuckle or saffron.

“Why did you save me?” Tang Yi ignored the joke, lowering his head to ask softly.

“Because I owe you a life,” Song Mo replied, feigning nonchalance.

“So it’s only that?” Tang Yi whispered, disappointment in his voice. Song Mo, his head down, neither saw nor heard it.

“Fox Sister, step aside,” Master Xiaoshan finally made his decision.

He was still intent on killing Song Mo and Tang Yi.

“No!” Zhao Yueshu refused to move.

“Steward Shu, remove Fox Sister,” Master Xiaoshan ordered sharply.

Shu Mingli hesitated, unsure whether to drag Zhao Yueshu away or not.

“What are you waiting for, Shu Mingli?” Master Xiaoshan’s anger flared, and Shu Mingli, with no other choice, stepped forward to pull Zhao Yueshu aside.

“I’m sorry, Fox Sister, but you’ll understand,” Master Xiaoshan turned away, not meeting her eyes, and advanced step by step toward the fallen Song Mo and Tang Yi.

“Aren’t you afraid the Demon Suppression Bureau will come for you?” Tang Yi threatened coldly.

Master Xiaoshan sneered, “The Demon Suppression Bureau? What are they to me?”

But just then, someone burst into the mountain manor, sword in hand, charging into the rear garden.

“The Bureau is full of people who can end your life!”

With a crisp declaration, a flying sword forced Master Xiaoshan back.

Tang Yi breathed a sigh of relief, “You’re finally here.”

The newcomer was none other than Jiang Wanyi, third rank of the Yellow Order, Demon Suppression Envoy.