Chapter 347 - 344: Duan Wuya
Chapter 347: Chapter 344: Duan Wuya
"Fang! Han!"
The two words were practically ground out from between Wan Yuntian’s teeth, laced with bone-deep hatred and icy coldness.
Being forced to bow his head to the power of the Qingxuan Sect already had him seeing red.
Now, hearing Fang Han’s blunt reprimand, the venom in his heart became a wildfire doused in hot oil, blazing so fiercely it threatened to burn away his reason.
’He must pay the price... He must...’
A crazed light flickered in Wan Yuntian’s eyes as his mind raced, calculating.
Fang Han himself was currently in the spotlight, his strength unfathomable. Ordinary methods would likely be ineffective.
He needed a sharper, more lethal "blade"—one that wouldn’t fear retaliation from the Qingxuan Sect...
Suddenly, a ruthless and resolute glint flashed in his eyes as a name he had heard not long ago leaped into his mind.
"Wanfu," he said, his voice hoarse.
Wanfu, who had been waiting by the door with his head bowed, not daring to breathe too loudly, hurried forward. "Young Master."
"Go to my secret chamber and carefully wrap up that five-hundred-year-old Blood Coral."
Wan Yuntian turned around. The twisted rage on his face had been replaced by an extreme coldness, leaving only his terrifyingly deep and dark eyes.
"Young Master, that’s..."
Wanfu was stunned. That Blood Coral was the young master’s most prized personal treasure, worth a fortune.
"I’m going to pay someone a visit."
The corner of Wan Yuntian’s mouth curved into a chilling, humorless smile.
"Young Master, who do you plan to visit?"
Wanfu asked.
"Duan Wuya."
"The forty-fifth on the Celestial Pride List, Duan Wuya?"
Wanfu gasped.
That was a notorious figure from the Netherworld Pavilion who had risen to fame in recent years. It was said that he had a penchant for slaughter and was a feared name even on the Celestial Pride List.
’The young master is actually going to seek him out?’
"That’s right."
Wan Yuntian walked to the copper mirror and straightened his slightly disheveled collar. The eyes reflected in the mirror held nothing but pure gloom and calculation.
"Fang Han already has a deep-seated grudge with the Netherworld Pavilion. There’s the matter of Gong Xing, the revenge for their slain Steward, and the feud over the Xuanwu True Skill... The Netherworld Pavilion probably wishes him dead already."
Facing the mirror, he slowly revealed a cold, confident smile.
"This Duan Wuya is greedy, brutal, and bloodthirsty. His cultivation is profound, making him the perfect candidate to deal with Fang Han."
"Even if it’s investigated afterward, it will be a feud between the Netherworld Pavilion and the Qingxuan Sect. What does that have to do with my Ten Thousand Treasures Building?"
A chill ran down Wanfu’s spine as he listened, but he dared not say more. He could only bow and reply.
"Yes. This old servant will go and prepare at once."
...
The night was as black as ink, so thick it seemed tangible.
In the East District of Qingyang Commandery City, a sprawling complex of buildings stood silently in the darkness.
High walls enclosed deep courtyards, with upturned eaves on the roofs. Wind lanterns hung on either side of the gatehouse, their shades adorned with dark, ink-drawn flame patterns—this was the Netherworld Pavilion’s residence in the Commandery City.
Unlike the overt luxury of the Ten Thousand Treasures Building or the elegant subtlety of the Hundred Treasures Pavilion, this place was steeped in a grim and solemn atmosphere.
A carriage stopped before the gate. The curtain was lifted, and Wan Yuntian bowed as he stepped out.
He wore a set of tight-fitting, dark purple clothes, covered by a jet-black cloak. His hood was pulled low, obscuring most of his face.
His steward, Wanfu, followed closely behind, holding a purple sandalwood box about a foot long.
The box was intricately carved with cloud patterns, and its clasp was inlaid with a pigeon-blood-red gemstone that gleamed faintly in the dim lamplight.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
Wanfu stepped forward and rapped his knuckles three times on the heavy, black-lacquered wooden door.
After a moment of silence from within, the door creaked open, revealing a narrow gap.
A Netherworld Pavilion disciple dressed in black poked his head out. His gaze lingered on Wan Yuntian’s face for a moment before sweeping over the wooden box. He asked:
"What is it?"
"Please inform True Inheritor Duan Wuya that Wan Yuntian of the Ten Thousand Treasures Building has come to see him."
Wan Yuntian’s voice was kept extremely low, but it was clear.
"Wait here."
The black-robed disciple’s gaze lingered on the purple sandalwood box for another breath before he spoke slowly.
The wooden door closed again.
Wan Yuntian stood silently outside the gate. The night wind, carrying a chill, swept across his neck, making him shiver involuntarily.
After about the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea, the wooden door opened again.
"True Inheritor Duan has agreed to see you. Follow me."
The black-robed disciple stepped aside to clear the way, his voice still flat and emotionless.
Wan Yuntian nodded slightly and stepped over the threshold with Wanfu.
The courtyard was deep and vast. They passed through three moon gates before arriving at their destination.
A man was sitting in a room.
He appeared to be about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, dressed in the True Inheritance Robe of the Netherworld Pavilion. The collar and cuffs were embroidered with the Netherworld Pavilion’s insignia in silver thread.
His face could be considered handsome. He was leaning casually against the back of his chair, his right leg bent with his foot resting on the edge of the seat.
In his hand, he held a four-foot-long, dark-red saber with a narrow blade and a strange curve. He was slowly and methodically wiping the blade with a piece of snow-white silk.
The dark-red patterns on the blade looked like dried blood scabs, enough to make one’s scalp tingle.
This was the True Disciple from the Netherworld Pavilion, currently ranked forty-fifth on the Celestial Pride List, renowned for his vicious Saber Technique and violent temperament—Duan Wuya.
Hearing someone enter the room, Duan Wuya didn’t stop wiping his blade; he didn’t even lift his eyelids.
Wan Yuntian took a few steps forward, stopping about thirty feet from the obsidian chair, and spoke.
"Wan Yuntian of the Ten Thousand Treasures Building pays his respects to True Inheritor Duan."
Duan Wuya continued to wipe his long saber as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.
Only after he had polished every inch of the blade to a cold, dark gleam did he toss the silk cloth into a nearby brazier.
HISS—
The silk cloth instantly caught fire, turning into a wisp of green smoke.
He slowly raised his eyes.
His gaze swept over them, like a physical blade scraping across skin, carrying an undisguised cruelty and scrutiny.
"The young master of the Ten Thousand Treasures Building?"
Duan Wuya spoke, his voice hoarse and low, like grinding stones.
"We don’t have any particular relationship. What do you want from me?"
Wan Yuntian took the wooden box from Wanfu’s hands, stepped forward, and gently placed it on the tea table in front of Duan Wuya’s seat. He opened the lid himself.
WHOOSH—
The moment the lid was opened, a gentle yet immense medicinal aura instantly filled the air.
Inside the box, nestled on a bed of deep purple velvet, lay a coral stalk.
The coral was about a foot tall, and its entire body was a translucent, crystalline blood-red, as if fresh blood were slowly flowing within it.
Its surface was naturally formed with overlapping, lotus-like patterns, its luster contained within, making it appear extraordinary and divine.
It was the five-hundred-year-old Blood Coral!
This was one of Heaven and Earth’s Wondrous Treasures, born in the depths of the sea, absorbing the essence of the earth’s ley lines for five hundred years to take form.
If a Martial Artist consumed it, they could directly refine it into pure Inner Qi, strengthening their Inner Qi, increasing their cultivation, and it had a wondrous effect on breaking through bottlenecks.
Its value could no longer be measured by ordinary gold and silver.
Duan Wuya’s dark-red pupils suddenly contracted. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locked onto the Blood Coral.
"A five-hundred-year-old Blood Coral..."
Duan Wuya’s hoarse voice carried a trace of irrepressible fervor.
"Young Master Wan, what a grand gesture. A treasure like this would be considered precious even in the secret vaults of my Netherworld Pavilion. What have you brought it here for today?"
He leaned back in his chair again, his gaze shifting from the Blood Coral to Wan Yuntian’s face. Though still ferocious, his expression now held a hint of scrutiny and amusement.
Wan Yuntian knew the crucial moment had arrived.
He straightened his back, met Duan Wuya’s gaze, and spoke slowly:
"I’ve heard that True Inheritor Duan’s Saber Technique is divine and your name is renowned on the Celestial Pride List. I’ve long admired you and have specially prepared this humble gift to express my respect. In addition... there is indeed a matter I wish to ask for your assistance with."
"Speak," Duan Wuya said succinctly.
"The True Inheritor of the Qingxuan Sect, Fang Han."
Wan Yuntian uttered the name, his tone calm, but the fists inside his sleeves quietly clenched.
"This man is arrogant and domineering, and I have had some run-ins with him. I also hear that he seems to have some unsettled scores with your esteemed Pavilion..."
He didn’t finish his sentence, but the meaning was self-evident.
Upon hearing the name "Fang Han," the hideous scar on Duan Wuya’s face twitched slightly. An undisguised killing intent and... excitement flashed in his dark-red eyes.
"Fang Han..."
He repeated in a low voice, his mouth splitting into a cruel grin that revealed his stark white teeth.
"Young Master Wan, your information is quite good. Indeed, this man has a significant grudge with my Netherworld Pavilion. I didn’t expect he also has a considerable feud with you."
"For the sake of the 500-year-old Blood Coral, I’ll agree to it."
The heavy stone in Wan Yuntian’s heart finally fell. A look of joy appeared on his face as he said:
"Then I’ll be counting on you, True Inheritor Duan."
Duan Wuya laughed, the sound echoing in the empty hall with a grating, metallic quality.
He reached out and grasped at the air. An invisible suction force emerged, and the Blood Coral, along with the purple sandalwood box, floated lightly into his hand.
He carefully examined the crystalline, blood-red coral in his hand, feeling the immense Essence Qi within it. The satisfaction in his eyes deepened.
"I’ve accepted the item. Young Master Wan, you may leave."
He said with a wave of his hand.
"I will take my leave. I wish True Inheritor Duan great progress in your cultivation and an early ascent to a higher rank on the Celestial Pride List."
Wan Yuntian left the room with Wanfu.
Not until the heavy door closed behind them, shutting out the suffocating presence in the room, did Wan Yuntian let out a long, turbid breath. The back of his robes was already soaked with cold sweat.
Interacting with such a vicious man had put him under immense pressure. If not for his desire for revenge against Fang Han, he would never have approached this fiend.
"Young Master, we..." Wanfu’s voice still trembled.
"We’re going back," Wan Yuntian said in a low voice, his eyes glinting with a cold, expectant light.
...
「The morning of the twenty-fifth day of the twelfth lunar month.」
After several consecutive days of severe cold, the weather cleared up slightly. The lead-gray clouds split open in a few places, allowing some bleak sunlight to filter through.
However, a relaxed and festive atmosphere permeated the Qingxuan Sect.
The end of the year was approaching, and the Sect was on holiday.
Disciples, except for those with assigned missions, were free to leave the Sect and return home to reunite with their families.
At the mountain gate, carriages rumbled and the flow of people was like a weaving shuttle. Friends called out to one another amidst laughter and clamor.
Courtyard Number Thirty-Five.
Fang Han placed a blue cloth travel bag at his feet. Inside were the five Middle Grade Cultivation Techniques he had redeemed for his family, as well as some elixirs for cultivation.
The gifts he had bought for his parents, little sister, and others, as well as luggage like spare clothes, had already been sent to the carriage.
He carried the Cloud Splitting Sword on his back and wore a silver-striped cyan robe. His long hair was tied up with a wooden hairpin, giving him a clean and sharp appearance.
In the courtyard, Qiu Lan stood with the other servants, their hands respectfully by their sides.
"Thank you all for your care during this time. This is just a small token of my appreciation, a bonus for the new year. Go home and have a good reunion with your families."
Fang Han held several prepared red envelopes and handed them to Qiu Lan and the other servants one by one.
"Thank you, Senior Brother!"
"Thank you for the reward, Senior Brother! I wish you a peaceful New Year!"
"Please be careful on your journey, Senior Brother!"
The red envelopes felt quite heavy in their hands. Qiu Lan and the others hurriedly bowed and accepted them, their faces filled with gratitude and joy.
Fang Han nodded slightly, said no more, picked up his bag, and strode out of the courtyard gate.