Volume One: The Dragon Rises from the Wild Chapter Seventy-Eight: A Bit Insane
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Yu Ye stepped outside.
Night had fallen.
The courtyard blazed with light.
At the center of the courtyard stood four cultivators, proud and imposing.
Not far from them gathered a crowd—among them the innkeeper, clerks, doorman, cook, and guests—all shrinking back in fear.
Dozens of men from the martial world encircled the courtyard, brandishing lanterns and torches, their eyes glinting with menace, their stance aggressive.
“Hey, young man, over here—”
A clerk waved from among the crowd.
Yu Ye gripped his wooden staff and walked over, head bowed.
There were only seven or eight guests at the inn—some were traveling merchants, others mountain folk journeying abroad—all glancing around in confusion.
Yu Ye, a fellow lodger, joined the merchants.
The clerk continued, “As the Daoist instructed, I have called out all the guests. The entire staff of the inn is here—no one is missing!”
A middle-aged cultivator, who had introduced himself as Gan Xing, nodded slightly and declared—
“The villain is cunning and vicious, with a thirst for blood. To prevent him from hiding among us and harming the innocent, tonight I shall search every corner of Lingjiao Town—nothing and no one will be overlooked, not a room, not a person, not even a beast, and that includes the Feilong Inn and those present here!”
Another middle-aged cultivator stepped forward, gesturing to the innkeeper. The innkeeper, as if granted amnesty, nodded gratefully and withdrew. The clerk, the doorman, and the cook followed suit, each slipping away. In the blink of an eye, only nine guests remained to be examined.
“You—” Gan Xing had been scrutinizing the crowd in the open space. Suddenly, he pointed and barked, “Why are you wearing a bamboo hat at night? Raise your head!”
All eyes turned.
Only one man in the dark wore a bamboo hat. Not only that, but he also held a staff several feet long. Yet he remained unmoved, still hiding at the rear of the group, head lowered.
The middle-aged cultivator circled the crowd and strode up, reaching out to seize the hat. “Lift your head—” he commanded. But just as he tossed the hat aside, a flash of light blinded him. Instantly, he was paralyzed. A sharp pain seized his waist and abdomen as a surge of murderous energy shattered his spiritual core, snuffing out his life force in an instant.
Everyone present was struck with horror.
Gan Xing, too, was stunned—
“Yu Ye?”
His companion was frozen in place, while behind him stood a youth, face uncovered, no longer ducking his head—a boy of fifteen or sixteen with a strange air and ruthless hand. If he was not the infamous Deathbringer, who could he be?
“It’s me!” Yu Ye remained behind the cultivator, the two almost back-to-back.
The moment the man reached for his hat, Yu Ye had unleashed his sole Dragon Subduing Talisman, and in the instant it trapped his foe, struck with his Seven-Kill Sword Qi. He had not acted before, but when he did, his blow was deadly.
“So it is you!” Gan Xing was both shocked and incredulous. He had not expected to capture the boy upon first arriving in Lingjiao Town. He raised his hand, summoning a sword light, his voice fierce: “Seize and kill the little thief—”
But before he could finish, his face stiffened.
Yu Ye seized the corpse of Gan Xing’s companion, lifting it high and declaring boldly, “I am Yu Ye of Yujia Village in Xingyuan Valley!”
Yu Ye of Yujia Village!
For the first time, he proclaimed his name with such strength, such resonance!
The dead cultivator was about his size, and Yu Ye hoisted the corpse as if it were a banner, proclaiming his resolve to live or die and his utter fearlessness.
“I have always dealt kindly with others and avoided trouble, yet a band of corrupt cultivators from Qizhou framed me, staining my name. Here and now, I swear: Bu Yi and his co-conspirators have deceived the heavens, destroyed the Da Ze Daoist Sect, and brought chaos to Da Ze. I will not rest until I have vengeance—this is a fight to the death!”
His voice rang out, forceful and stirring!
He stood proud, shaking the hearts of all around!
“Hmph, arrogant!”
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A mere boy with meager cultivation dared publicly to insult the cultivators of Qizhou and challenge masters of the Foundation Establishment—sheer arrogance and lawlessness!
Gan Xing’s patience snapped. “Don’t let him escape—”
Yet the brazen youth did not flee. Instead, he charged at Gan Xing, brandishing the corpse and shouting provocatively, “Isn’t Bu Yi searching for me everywhere? If he has the courage, let him wait for me before the Xuanwu Pavilion on Mount Beiqi—I promise him an ending!”
“Hmph…” Gan Xing, speechless with rage, formed a spell and pointed. His two companions also unleashed their flying swords. The martial men surrounded the courtyard, brandishing blades and shouting, while the inn’s staff and guests screamed in terror, scrambling to escape.
Sword light flashed—“Bang!”—blood and flesh flew.
Gan Xing was taken aback.
Their swords had only shattered the corpse—Yu Ye had vanished.
“Invisibility! Be careful—” Gan Xing warned his companions, sending out his spiritual sense in search.
The courtyard was chaos—figures darted everywhere.
“Boom—”
The eastern wall of the courtyard suddenly collapsed. Frightened horses broke their reins and bolted.
“He’s escaping on horseback—”
Gan Xing and the other cultivators rushed after him.
“Boom, boom—”
Two bursts of fire exploded among the frantic crowd, instantly incinerating over a dozen martial men. The flames leaped to a towering tree by the gate, crackling as they raced into the night sky.
“Ah, he’s creating a diversion—”
Gan Xing abandoned the chase and spun back. Yet his spiritual sense found no trace of Yu Ye—only blood, chaos, roaring flames, and choking smoke.
The burning tree, a pillar of fire, soared skyward like a dragon ascending.
Gan Xing looked up, helpless.
The boy had escaped in the confusion!
Still, at least he had forced him into the open...
...
Dawn.
The valley lay silent.
A stream wound its way through.
A man and a horse halted by the water.
Yu Ye dismounted, washed his face in the stream, drank a few mouthfuls, still breathing heavily. The horse, too, was drenched in sweat, foaming at the mouth, clearly exhausted, and bent to drink. Yu Ye patted its head and found a rock to sit and rest, his mind replaying the events of the night before.
Though Jiao Ying had urged him to flee the inn, he had ignored her. As she had said: “If you haven’t suffered as others have, don’t counsel them to be kind.” Yu Ye’s actions required no one’s approval. Besides, his plan was not reckless—merely bold.
He had first drawn attention with his bamboo hat, then ambushed his foe with the Dragon Subduing Talisman and sword qi, then used the corpse as cover to activate the Armor Breaking Talisman, toppled the wall to startle the horses, and finally created chaos with the Fire Talisman, escaping under cover of darkness. Even if the three cultivators wished to give chase, the stampede of dozens of panicked horses thwarted them.
He had not only escaped Lingjiao Town—he had taken his horse with him.
Of course, it was not for the horse’s sake. His real purpose was to lure the Qizhou cultivators away, to make all believe he would seek out Bu Yi on Mount Beiqi—so that his family in Yujia Village would be spared disaster.
After fleeing Lingjiao Town the night before, he had ridden nonstop until he reached this valley, finally pausing for breath. He reckoned he’d covered several hundred miles and shaken off pursuit for now.
“Well done!” came a voice in his mind.
“To strike and kill at once, to intimidate the assembly—brave and clever, and you escaped whole. However…”
Yu Ye gazed at the colorful valley, lost in thought.
Jiao Ying’s voice hesitated. “The cultivators of Qizhou may not have harmed your kin. You risked everything alone—was it worth it…”
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Yu Ye shook his head, cutting her off. “You don’t understand!”
“Heh, you hold a grudge because I used to call you dull and stupid. Now you say I don’t understand—”
“Has anyone ever died for you?”
“Well… perhaps.”
“Have thirty-two people ever faced the knife for you, refusing to yield, dying one after another? Have you ever seen a village in mourning, orphans crying, widows wailing?”
“Sigh, you’re right—I don’t understand…”
Jiao Ying’s voice faded, subdued.
It was not that she failed to grasp the world’s cruelty and the fickleness of human nature, but rather that she did not understand the heart of this boy; she once thought she knew his every thought, but today she realized how much of a stranger he was to her. Perhaps she lacked his experiences, and thus could not comprehend the stubbornness and raw emotion of his mountain folk.
“What will you do next?” Jiao Ying changed the subject.
“Go overseas!”
“But aren’t you going to Mount Beiqi to settle things with Bu Yi?”
“If I don’t, how will he ever stop hunting Yujia Village? If I don’t, how can I seize the chance to leave Da Ze?”
“Heh, what a grand deception! When an honest man schemes, it’s truly fearsome!”
“Jiao Ying, you’re from Yan Prefecture, aren’t you?”
“…”
“No one in Da Ze Daoist Sect knows Yan Prefecture exists, yet the other day you told me to go to Qizhou and Yan Prefecture to seize spirit stones. Was that a slip of the tongue, or did I mishear?”
“Mmm, terrifying!”
“Don’t play games with me—tell me the truth.”
“I’ve been worrying about you this whole time—let me rest a moment…”
“Jiao Ying?”
“…”
...
Within a cave.
Bai Zhi opened her eyes from meditation.
She exhaled a breath of turbid air, glanced at the fragments of spirit stones on the ground, and stroked her delicate, jade-like cheek. A trace of delighted smile appeared at the corner of her lips. After calming her mind, a small, exquisite short sword appeared in her hand. With a spell, the sword rose gently, gleaming as it flew through the air. With a flick of her hand, the sword spiraled back, its light dissipating as it landed softly in her palm.
Three months in seclusion, three spirit stones consumed—she had raised her cultivation from the peak of the third level to the fifth, mastering the art of sword flight!
Throughout the Da Ze Daoist Sect, few cultivators could command a flying sword!
Now she was among the elite, and surely her master’s spirit would be proud.
Bai Zhi put away her sword, her thoughts shifting as another, smaller sword—three inches long, deep purple-black—appeared in her hand.
She gazed at it, her eyes shining faintly.
This must be a legendary magical treasure: rare, precious, unknown even to her master. She hoped that one day she could truly claim it as her own.
Now three months had passed—had he escaped Lingjiao Valley? Had he gone to the Feilong Inn in Lingjiao Town?
At the thought, Bai Zhi’s face grew uneasy. She pondered a moment, then swept up her sleeve and hurried out of the cave…