Chapter 403 - 400: Gray-White
Chapter 403: Chapter 400: Gray-White
In the distance, the dozen or so Qingxuan Sect disciples stared blankly at the scene, momentarily speechless.
From You Xin’s sudden appearance to block their path, to the two of them clashing.
From Fang Han gaining the upper hand, to You Xin using a Secret Technique to counterattack.
From Fang Han desperately holding on, to You Xin’s Secret Technique failing as he was slain by a single sword strike.
—
In that short half-hour, their hearts had been on a swing, rising and falling, suspended in uncertainty again and again.
Now, gazing at the green-robed figure of Fang Han standing with his sword, and at You Xin’s black-robed corpse lying in a pool of blood, that feeling of suspense finally settled.
"You Xin... is dead?"
A disciple muttered, his voice so quiet it was barely audible, as if afraid of disturbing something.
"He’s dead! You Xin is dead!"
Another disciple clenched his fists, his voice trembling uncontrollably.
It was a tremor born of excitement, or perhaps disbelief.
Shen Qing said nothing, his mind replaying the horrific scene at the North Mountain herb garden.
Two Stewards, twelve disciples, and dozens of servants—all turned into cold corpses overnight.
From the conversation between Fang Han and You Xin, it wasn’t difficult to deduce that the murder of their sect-mates was most likely a trap set by the Netherworld Pavilion to eliminate Fang Han.
They were pawns, bait to lure Fang Han into a snare.
"Rest in peace. Senior Brother Fang has avenged you!"
Shen Qing said, his voice choked with emotion.
At some point, the rims of his eyes had turned red.
"Senior Brother Li, Senior Brother Wang, Junior Brother Zhao..."
Beside him, a disciple who had been close to those who died at the North Mountain herb garden looked to the sky, murmuring one name after another in a hoarse voice.
"Did you see? You Xin is dead... You have been avenged..."
Before he could finish, his voice broke.
No one else spoke.
There was only the soft rustle of their clothes as the mountain wind swept past.
Fang Han sheathed his sword and slowly exhaled a turbid breath.
He glanced down at the corpse on the ground, then crouched and began his customary search.
You Xin’s body was still warm. His black robe with dark silver patterns was soaked in blood and torn in many places, revealing the high-quality black Soft Armor underneath, which was undamaged from the fight.
Fang Han reached into the robes and pulled out several Jade Bottles and a small brocade bag.
The Jade Bottles contained Elixirs: some for healing, some for restoring Inner Qi, and one bottle with a pungent, spicy smell of unknown purpose.
Inside the brocade bag were a dozen or so silver notes of varying denominations, totaling around a hundred thousand taels.
Fang Han’s brow twitched slightly.
Over a hundred thousand taels would be a huge sum for an ordinary Martial Artist, but for a celestial pride of the Netherworld Pavilion like You Xin, it was mere pocket money.
The sixth-ranked prodigy on the Celestial Pride List clearly didn’t have the "good habit" of carrying a large amount of cash on his person.
He casually stored the Jade Bottles and silver notes, his gaze falling upon the black Soft Armor and the pair of jet-black claws.
The Soft Armor was of extraordinary quality, with a faint sheen flowing across it. It had remained completely unscathed by his attacks, suggesting it was a masterpiece among Top Grade items.
The claws were dark and profound, their edges glinting with a sinister cold light. With his current eye for such things, he could tell they were very likely a Magical Soldier.
These two items together were worth at least ten million taels. It wasn’t a total loss, then.
He reached out, stripped off the Soft Armor, and removed the claws from You Xin’s hands, placing them all in his bag.
As he stood up, the dozen or so disciples approached.
"Senior Brother Fang."
Shen Qing took a step forward and bowed deeply.
His voice was still steady, but beneath that calm was a barely suppressed excitement.
The other disciples also bowed in respect.
Fang Han nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over the group.
"We can’t stay here for long."
His voice was calm but held an unquestionable decisiveness.
"You Xin must have acted under orders from the Netherworld Pavilion’s upper echelons. Once they discover his death, they will surely guess I was the one who did it."
"When that happens, they will likely ignore the tacit understanding between our sects and send an Elder Level figure to retaliate."
At his words, everyone’s expression turned grim.
An Elder Level figure.
That was an expert of the Upper Three Grades, an existence powerful enough to crush everyone present, aside from Fang Han.
"We must return to the Sect before they have time to react."
Fang Han continued, his eyes turning in the direction of the Qingxuan Sect.
"We leave now. Full speed."
"Yes!"
The dozen or so disciples responded in unison.
No one said another word. They quickly gathered their belongings, shouldering the bundles of medicinal herbs and valuables once more.
Fang Han took a Jade Bottle from his robes, tipped two Healing Elixirs into his mouth, then took out a roll of clean cloth and hastily bandaged the deeper wounds on his body.
His movements were quick and practiced.
A moment later, everything was ready.
"Let’s go."
Fang Han took the lead, and with a flicker of his body, he was already speeding away.
Behind him, the dozen or so disciples followed closely.
The road receded swiftly beneath their feet, the scenery on both sides blurring into streaks of color as the wind howled in their ears.
「The next morning.」
Two young men dressed in the servant attire of the Netherworld Pavilion left the Commandery City and headed for the mysterious stone monuments outside the city that recorded the Celestial Pride List and the Martial Artist Ranking.
Not only could the mysterious monuments rank the genius Martial Artists within the county each month, but they could also indicate whether a listed Martial Artist was still alive through the color of their name.
For this reason, many major powers sent people to check on them daily.
Of the two young men, one was thin with a sallow complexion, his eyelids drooping with the languor of a hangover.
The other was chubby-faced, his small eyes habitually narrowed, and he was currently tilting his head back to let out a long yawn.
"YAAAWN—"
The thin servant rubbed his eyes and grumbled.
"I’m dead tired. I knew I shouldn’t have drunk so much last night..."
"You say that every time."
The chubby-faced servant shot him a look, at a loss for words.
Chatting as they walked, the two soon arrived at the mysterious stone monuments and looked up at the two crystalline steles standing there silently.
The steles were several hundred feet tall and completely translucent, like two small mountains.
On the left stele, a hundred names were arranged on its surface, each preceded by a corresponding number—
That was the Martial Artist Ranking, which recorded the ranks of all Martial Artists in Qingyang County.
On the right stele, there were also a hundred names—
That was the Celestial Pride List, which only included members of the younger generation under the age of thirty.
"Speaking of which, Yue Lingtian should be aging off the list soon..."
the chubby-faced servant said.
"When that happens, Senior Brother You Xin’s rank on the Celestial Pride List should move up one spot."
"One more spot up, and he’ll be fifth,"
the thin servant replied casually, clearly having memorized these details.
"Tsk tsk, top five then."
"Hey, look at Senior Brother You Xin’s name. Are my eyes playing tricks on me?"
As they were talking, the chubby-faced servant suddenly rubbed his eyes and spoke.
The thin servant followed his gaze.
The crystalline stele still emanated a soft glow, the names on its surface still shining brightly.
First: Yue Lingtian.
Second: Liu Bai.
Third: Mad Saber.
Fourth: Wu Xiang.
Fifth: Xu Qing.
Sixth: ...
His gaze landed on the sixth-ranked position.
And then, his pupils contracted abruptly.
The sixth-ranked position had originally been engraved with the name: "You Xin (Netherworld Pavilion)."
That name, just as he remembered it, should have been shimmering with a faint light.
But now—
The light was gone.
In its place was a deathly gray-white.
Gray-white.
It was a rather rare color to see on the Celestial Pride List.
As the keepers of the mysterious crystalline steles, they knew all too well what it represented.
"This is impossible!"
The thin servant couldn’t help but blink, thinking it was a trick of his eyes.
But the glaring gray-white color remained, unchanged.
"Looks like I wasn’t mistaken... It’s real!!!"
The chubby-faced servant’s voice trembled uncontrollably.
"Quick, we have to report back!"
the thin servant said, his voice shaking.
"Right, report back! We have to report back!"
The chubby-faced servant snapped back to his senses and said hastily.
Without bothering to check for any other changes on the crystalline steles, the two of them scrambled back toward the Commandery City.
「East District, Commandery City. The Netherworld Pavilion’s residence.」
It was a sprawling complex of buildings with high walls, deep courtyards, and a towering gatehouse.
Wind lanterns hung on either side of the gatehouse, their shades adorned with dark flame patterns drawn in ink.
On either side of the main gate stood two disciples dressed in black, their weapons at their waists and their gazes sharp.
The sound of rapid footsteps approached from the distance.
The two servant disciples came stumbling over, their faces pale and covered in sweat.
"It’s... it’s terrible!"
They reached the gate, barely able to stand, and gasped for breath while leaning against a pillar.
"What’s the cause for alarm?"
one of the gate guards demanded with a frown.
"The Celestial Pride List... The Celestial Pride List..."
The thin servant disciple lifted his head, his voice trembling so much it was almost inaudible.
"Senior Brother You Xin... Senior Brother You Xin’s name... it’s turned gray-white!"
The moment he said this, the faces of the four gate guards turned deathly pale.
Gray-white.
On the Celestial Pride List, that meant death. It was the color of death.
"What... what did you say?!"
The lead gate guard grabbed the servant’s collar and lifted him off the ground.
"Say that again!"
"We... we went to check the Celestial Pride List this morning..."
The thin servant disciple was choked so badly he could barely breathe, but he didn’t dare struggle, only speaking in fits and starts.
"Senior Brother You Xin’s name... turned gray-white... We saw it with our own eyes... We wouldn’t dare lie..."
The lead gate guard’s hand slowly loosened.
The thin servant collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.
The chubby-faced servant, who was a step behind the thin one, broke out in a cold sweat from fear.
No one spared them another glance.
The four gate guards stood frozen in place, their faces pale, their eyes filled with utter disbelief.
Senior Brother You Xin.
Sixth on the Celestial Pride List.
The strongest disciple of the Netherworld Pavilion’s current generation was actually dead.
How was this possible? How could this be possible?
"Report this... report this immediately!"
The lead gate guard snapped back to his senses, his voice hoarse.
"Send a message to the Sect by the fastest means possible!"
「A quarter of an hour later.」
A streak of black light shot up into the sky from the Netherworld Pavilion’s residence.
It was a jet-black falcon, several times larger than an ordinary one, with a wingspan of ten feet.
It circled once to get its bearings, then transformed into a black bolt of lightning, streaking toward the Netherworld Pavilion’s main Sect.
A small copper tube was tied to its talons.
Inside the tube was an urgent letter.
The letter contained only a short message—
"Urgent report: On the Celestial Pride List, True Inheritor You Xin’s name has turned gray-white. He is presumed dead."