Chapter Three: Schemes and Betrayals (Part Two)

Fei Chuan slowly collapsed, his eyes still wide open. The phrase “to die with eyes open” could fully encapsulate the bitterness in his heart. Only at the very end did he realize that the Black Robe’s mission to assist him was nothing but a ruse; secretly, he had already accepted the Widow of Poison’s commission.

No sooner had Fei Chuan fallen than another jet-black streak shot out from behind the woman. In that instant, the faint smoke swirling around her condensed into the image of a monstrous creature, resembling a scorpion.

Fei Chuan’s bodyguard was already scared out of his wits by the sudden turn of events, let alone the fact that his strength paled in comparison to the Widow of Poison’s. In truth, she had no need to employ her life-bound technique against him, but she wished to waste no time—this place was akin to a tiger’s den, and no one could guarantee that Fei Qi had not left other arrangements before his departure.

The room grew quiet. Ye Xin had already wiped every trace of the poison from his fingertips. He discarded the small knife, rose to his feet, and said indifferently, “Farewell.” With that, he turned and walked slowly toward the door.

“Wait.” The woman’s lips parted slightly. Her smile was radiant and beautiful, a touch of gratitude shining in her eyes. Unfortunately, Ye Xin had his back to her, unable to sense her warmth or allure.

“Is there something else?” Ye Xin halted.

“Black Robe, thank you for giving me this chance to rid myself of Fei Chuan, my gravest threat.” She paused, as if pondering something, then went on, “No more words—this time I owe you a great favor. I, Xin Xin, will never forget it. If ever you need my help, simply come to me and I will never refuse!”

“Very well,” Ye Xin replied.

The woman stepped forward, extending her hand, her smile growing even warmer. “A pleasure to work together!”

Ye Xin, whose head had been bowed all along, slowly lifted his face into the lamplight. There was a slight curl to his lips, almost as if in disdain for some unspoken reason. He turned and reached out his own hand.

At that precise instant, yet another jet-black streak darted from behind her, lightning-fast toward Ye Xin’s throat. Yet as soon as the black gleam appeared, Ye Xin had already ducked low and lunged at her waist, hurtling forward like a cannonball.

Though the woman’s attack was swift, Ye Xin had clearly anticipated it—had he waited to see the black gleam before dodging, it would have been too late. Even so, the black streak still tore through his cloak, leaving a gaping hole and fully revealing the face that had until then been shrouded in darkness.

The woman had never imagined her sure strike would miss. The Soul-Sealing Thorn was her life-bound technique and tremendously powerful. Not only those of her own level, but even warriors far her superior would find it hard to escape her ambush if caught off guard. She simply could not believe what had just happened.

But there was no time to react. Ye Xin collided with her, carrying her backward with relentless force, until they crashed hard against a pillar.

Boom—the back of her head struck the pillar, leaving a deep dent and sending chips of stone flying. Stars burst before her eyes, her internal power scattering, leaving her unable to fight back.

Ye Xin had no intention of letting such an opportunity slip by. He swung his fist, which landed squarely on her chest with a muffled, thunderous roar.

Boom—the force of his punch left the pillar crisscrossed with fresh fissures, as if it might collapse at any moment. Strangely, however, though the woman bore the brunt of the blow, she seemed unharmed, her body merely embedded deeply into the stone.

Ye Xin paused, astonished. He had always trusted his fists. Even a wild tiger of the ancient forest would have had its bones shattered by such a punch, yet this woman’s body had suddenly become as hard as iron. He didn’t understand what had happened, but his experience told him that his strike had had no effect whatsoever.

The woman’s eyes flashed with a fierce light. For a warrior of her level to cultivate even a single life-bound technique was rare enough, yet she had two! One was the Soul-Sealing Thorn; the other, the Scorpion Carapace. The Thorn’s power allowed her to defeat those of higher rank, while the Carapace granted her extraordinary defense, far surpassing ordinary body-strengthening skills.

Ordinary body-strengthening simply made one harder to injure, but the Scorpion Carapace was truly impervious to blade or spear. However, it had a fatal weakness: it could not be breached. Ordinary skills could endure several cuts or stabs with little loss of protection, but once the Carapace was pierced, its defense would vanish utterly.

No martial art was perfect, but her Scorpion Carapace was already enough to inspire awe in countless warriors.

Yet it could only guard against external attacks, whereas Ye Xin’s punches possessed a strange penetrating force. Though she was not visibly wounded, her internal organs were compressed, sending waves of agony through her and stoking her fury all the more.

Suddenly, Ye Xin produced a small knife and drove it hard at her abdomen. There was a sharp clang as the blade snapped, slicing a bloody line across his own hand.

The woman grinned savagely, her scattered energy beginning to stabilize. She needed only a moment to recover her full strength.

Ye Xin tossed aside the broken knife. His right hand closed into a blade, and with lightning speed, he thrust at her throat, his fingertips tearing through the air with a piercing whistle.

This finger-blade was even more vicious and domineering than any saber, plunging four fingers deep into her throat with a sickening squelch. Yet still, he could not break the Carapace’s defense. The power that could shatter stone and metal could not so much as pierce her skin.

The pain nearly brought her to tears, her vision darkening as the violent compression of her throat forced her tongue out between her lips.

Suddenly, Ye Xin’s left hand shot upward, slamming into her chin. Boom—her head snapped back, her skull smashing against the crumbling pillar once again. But that was the least of it: her clenched jaws, like two rows of blades, instantly severed her protruding tongue, sending a spray of blood and half her tongue flying through the air.

The next moment, Ye Xin beckoned, and Fei Chuan’s war spear leaped into his grasp. With a single hand, he raised it and drove it straight at the woman’s face.

Her energy scattered again; despair filled her eyes as she watched the spear draw near.

She had been wrong—so very wrong. During their negotiations, she had used the most subtle of means to gauge the Black Robe’s strength, which was why she devised this plan: to kill Fei Chuan and frame the Black Robe. Yet events had unfolded far beyond her expectations.

The youth before her, though still touched with childishness, was like an ancient demon drenched in battlefield blood. Not only was he cunning to a terrifying degree, seeing through her murderous intent from the start, but his adaptability and judgment were almost inhuman. In a split second, he had deduced the Carapace’s fatal flaw and, with a move beyond comprehension, shattered her defense.

She was utterly convinced of her defeat, filled with regret. Of all her miscalculations, the worst was ever thinking she could outwit this youth.

Crack—the spearpoint pierced her face, burst through the back of her skull, and continued through the pillar. The battered column could bear no more; it collapsed in a roar.

But her body did not fall, for Ye Xin’s grip on the spear never loosened. The steel weapon, along with the Widow of Poison’s corpse, hung suspended in the air as if in a painting.

After a long while, Ye Xin let out a soft sigh. “Was it really necessary…? Was it worth it…?”

“Hurry, don’t let the energy dissipate!” An aged voice suddenly rang out. Yet in the entire room, only Ye Xin remained standing; the voice’s appearance was eerie in the extreme.

Ye Xin approached the corpse, then opened his mouth and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

The smoke seeped into the Widow’s corpse. Gradually, her flesh began to grow translucent. After some time, Ye Xin inhaled deeply, drawing the smoke back out from her body.

Suddenly, pain contorted Ye Xin’s face. He clutched his chest, the corpse and spear collapsing to the floor as he staggered back seven or eight paces before regaining his balance.

“It worked! It worked!” The aged voice was ecstatic. “After so many attempts, we’ve finally succeeded!”

Ye Xin had no time to respond. He sat cross-legged in the blood, regulating his breathing. Almost half an hour passed before he slowly opened his eyes.

“You’re bold indeed, daring to cultivate here. If the warriors of Dragon’s Maw Hall burst in, even a hundred lives wouldn’t save you!” the old voice snapped.

“Then why didn’t you warn me?” Ye Xin smiled.

“You… you’d already begun channeling your energy—any warning then would have sent you into a deadly deviation!” The old voice grew even more irritable. “You have a brain of your own—why not use it?!”

“Because I’d already thought it through, that’s exactly why I dared to cultivate here,” Ye Xin replied. “Fei Chuan would never have allowed anyone to discover the Widow of Poison. He’d have long since ordered that no matter what happened, the warriors of Dragon’s Maw Hall were not to barge in.”

“How can you be so sure?” the old voice asked.

“It’s simple,” Ye Xin said with a slight smile. “The mission Fei Chuan posted was never canceled, and the few warriors of Dragon’s Maw Hall who knew I’d taken the job all vanished mysteriously. Clearly, Fei Chuan was making arrangements to clear his own name, so I was on guard from the start. Heh… I despise being lied to most of all.”

“And just for that, you dared act with such recklessness?” the old voice pressed.

“Isn’t that reason enough?” Ye Xin retorted.