Chapter 439 - 436: Netherworld Pavilion’s Suspicion
Chapter 439: Chapter 436: Netherworld Pavilion’s Suspicion
"Elder Ma Yuan and Elder Zhao Ping... were they killed as well?"
Li Wushang’s fingers tapped twice on the back of his chair, making a faint tapping sound.
His face was abnormally grim.
"The traces at the scene indicate that the enemy was extremely powerful."
Feng Yuan shook his head slightly.
"The two Elders... I’m afraid they have both perished."
Li Wushang’s face flushed with anger. Not only were the supplies stolen, but even the two Elders had been killed.
Ma Yuan was a Second Grade, and Zhao Ping was at the Late Stage of Third Grade. To be able to ambush and kill them both, the assailants were by no means ordinary.
He took a deep breath, suppressed his anger, and asked,
"Have you found any clues about the perpetrators?"
"The traces at the scene were wiped clean. It’s impossible to determine which faction was responsible from the evidence,"
Feng Yuan said, shaking his head.
A long silence fell upon the hall.
Li Wushang stood before the window with his hands behind his back, gazing at the deepening twilight outside, unmoving for a long time.
His face betrayed no emotion, but his deep-set eyes grew ever more somber.
"No clues..."
He repeated in a hoarse voice, tinged with unconcealable frustration.
Throughout all of Qingyang County, the factions capable of ambushing and killing both Ma Yuan and Zhao Ping could be counted on one hand.
And among those few factions, the one with both the strength and the motive...
He closed his eyes, and a name surfaced in his mind.
The Qingxuan Sect.
’Only the Qingxuan Sect has the motive and the capability to do something like this.’
He had no proof, but his intuition told him the Qingxuan Sect had to be behind it.
When he opened his eyes, only an icy chill remained within them.
"Elder Feng, you may go and rest."
"Yes."
Feng Yuan bowed, then turned and exited the great hall.
The sound of his footsteps quickly faded at the end of the corridor.
Only Li Wushang remained in the hall.
He stood before the window with his hands clasped behind him, gazing at the heavy night, unmoving for a long time.
The supplies had been stolen, and two Elders had been killed. The Netherworld Pavilion had suffered a heavy blow this time.
Rage burned fiercely in his heart, but he had nowhere to vent it.
...
The night was as black as ink. The convoy moved slowly along a mountain path, its wheels crunching over gravel with a soft, rumbling sound.
A dozen or so carts laden with supplies snaked along the narrow mountain road, their ruts deep. The horses panted heavily, clearly straining under the load.
Everyone’s robes were more or less stained with blood, which had dried into dark brown patches.
No one spoke.
Two consecutive days of travel, coupled with the fierce battle, had left everyone exhausted.
The occasional snort from a horse broke the silence, only to be swallowed by the night wind.
Fang Han gazed into the distance.
At the end of the mountain path, the silhouette of the Qingxuan Sect was faintly visible.
The continuous stretch of halls was built into the mountainside, leaving only a blurry silhouette in the night. A few scattered lights dotted the scene, like sparse stars in the sky.
’We’re almost there.’
Fang Han let out a soft breath, the tension that had gripped him for days easing slightly.
At the very front of the group, Jin Han led the way on horseback, her gray robes fluttering slightly in the night wind.
Her placid eyes scanned the path ahead.
After traveling for about the time it takes an incense stick to burn, the main gate of the Qingxuan Sect finally came into clear view.
The towering stone gate glimmered coldly in the moonlight, and the cloud patterns carved into its pillars shimmered with a faint luster.
The disciples on duty at the gate saw the convoy approaching and hurried forward. Upon recognizing Jin Han in the lead and the other familiar faces in the group, they stepped aside to clear the path and bowed in respect.
Jin Han nodded slightly and led the convoy through the main gate.
Fang Han followed close behind.
The ancient trees on both sides of the mountain path rustled in the night wind. An occasional leaf would drift down, spinning in the moonlight before landing on a shoulder.
The convoy continued slowly up the mountain path, finally stopping at a wide-open plaza on the mountainside.
"Unload the cargo. Take inventory and move it to storage."
Jin Han’s voice was as stiff as ever, but it held a touch more weariness than usual.
The group acknowledged the order and began to get busy.
Some began unloading crates of supplies from the carts, while others carried the bodies of their fallen comrades toward the other side.
Fang Han stretched his slightly stiff muscles.
The days of travel had inevitably left him weary.
"True Inheritor Fang."
Jin Han’s voice sounded beside him.
Fang Han turned to find the elder standing before him.
She glanced at Fang Han, a flicker of complex emotion in her stern eyes, and spoke, her voice still stiff:
"Follow me to report to the Sect Leader."
"Yes."
Fang Han nodded slightly and followed her up the bluestone path toward the mountain’s peak.
The night was deep. The only sounds on the mountain path were their two sets of footsteps and the occasional chirp of insects in the distance.
Moonlight spilled through the gaps in the leaves and branches, casting dappled shadows on the ground.
Before long, the outline of the Sect Leader’s Hall appeared in their view.
The wind lanterns in front of the hall were already lit, their dim yellow light casting the three large characters for "Sect Leader’s Hall" in shifting light and shadow.
The disciple on duty saw them approaching and quickly bowed in greeting. "Elder Jin, Senior Brother Fang, the Sect Leader has been informed of your return and is waiting for you in the hall."
Jin Han nodded slightly and stepped into the hall.
Fang Han followed close behind.
The hall was brightly lit. Chen Tianyuan sat at the head seat, holding a scroll, which he was reading with rapt attention.
Hearing their footsteps, he looked up, a hint of relief flashing in his gentle eyes.
"You’re back."
He set down the scroll and motioned for the two of them to sit.
Jin Han and Fang Han sat down in the chairs below.
A maid served fragrant tea and then retreated silently.
"How was the mission?"
Chen Tianyuan asked, his voice calm.
Jin Han shifted slightly in her seat and recounted the entire mission from beginning to end.
From setting the ambush at the designated location, to the surprise attack when the convoy appeared, to Fang Han slaying Zhao Ping, and finally to the two of them joining forces to corner and kill Ma Yuan...
Her account was concise, without embellishment or omission of key details.
When she mentioned that Fang Han, with his Early Third Grade cultivation, had slain the Late Stage of Third Grade Zhao Ping in just over a dozen moves, Chen Tianyuan nodded slightly, a look of gratification in his eyes.
When she described how Fang Han had joined her to surround and kill Ma Yuan, using a Sword Intent Spiritual Shock at the critical moment to stun Ma Yuan and create an opening for her, the faintest smile appeared on Chen Tianyuan’s lips.
"As for the Hundred Treasures Pavilion, Lan Yuexin delivered the letter to me personally. The intelligence was accurate, with no errors."
After Jin Han finished, Fang Han spoke up, briefly adding a few details about how he had obtained the intelligence in Pinggu City.
"So, you’re saying no one from the Netherworld Pavilion escaped?"
Chen Tianyuan asked slowly after listening to their reports.
"Correct."
Jin Han nodded, her voice firm.
"Ma Yuan, Zhao Ping, and the thirty-some Steward Disciples accompanying them were all killed in the ambush. Not a single one escaped."
"The traces at the scene have also been erased. Even if the Netherworld Pavilion sends people to investigate, they won’t be able to confirm that our Qingxuan Sect was responsible."
Chen Tianyuan nodded in satisfaction and leaned back in his chair, a flash of delight in his gentle eyes.
"The supplies were intercepted, and not a single person was allowed to escape. Good, very good."
He paused, then continued.
"This batch of supplies from the Netherworld Pavilion was quite valuable. This loss will be enough to make them sting for a long time. As for whether they’ll guess it was our Qingxuan Sect..."
The corners of his mouth lifted in a very faint arc.
"It’s just speculation. Without proof, the Qingxuan Sect will naturally admit nothing."
Jin Han and Fang Han exchanged a glance but said nothing.
Chen Tianyuan’s gaze fell upon Fang Han, his tone softening slightly:
"Fang Han, you’ve worked hard on this trip. Go back and get some proper rest. The minor merit award for the mission will be credited to your name tomorrow."
Chen Tianyuan then looked at Jin Han and nodded slightly:
"Elder Jin, you’ve worked hard as well. Rest early. The mission reward will also be credited to your name tomorrow."
Fang Han and Jin Han rose, took their leave, and exited the Sect Leader’s Hall to return to their residences.
Stepping out of the hall, the night wind brushed against their faces, carrying the unique coolness of the mountains.
They didn’t speak on the way. They simply nodded to each other at a fork in the road and went their separate ways.
Although Elder Jin had been objective and not deliberately targeting Fang Han, her personality was genuinely a bit strange, and Fang Han had no desire to interact with her more than necessary.
Not long after, Fang Han returned to Villa Thirty-Five.
Moonlight spilled down, and the bamboo grove rustled in the night wind, casting dappled shadows.
Qiu Lan was waiting under the covered walkway with two other maids. Seeing Fang Han return, she hurried forward to greet him.
"Senior Brother, the hot water is ready. Would you like to wash up?"
A disciple had already come by to announce Fang Han’s return.
"Yes."
Fang Han nodded.
He had been sleeping in the wild for the past few days. Although he had occasionally washed up in streams, nothing could compare to the comfort of a proper hot bath.
He stepped into the room, shed his robes, and climbed into the tub.
The warm water enveloped his body, slowly melting away the exhaustion from days of travel.
He closed his eyes and leaned against the side of the tub, letting the warmth seep through his skin and into his very bones.
He soaked for the better part of an hour.
By the time he rose from the tub and changed into clean inner clothes, it was late in the night.
’Finally, I can get a good night’s sleep.’
He didn’t meditate or cultivate, but walked straight to his bedroom and fell onto the bed.
After days of travel, his mind and body were exhausted to the extreme. The moment his head hit the pillow, a tide of sleepiness washed over him.
He fell into a deep sleep.
...
「The next day.」
Sunshine streamed through the window lattice and into the room, casting bright patterns of light on the floor.
Fang Han opened his eyes and stared blankly at the beams above, feeling a bit dazed for a moment.
Outside the window, birds chirped crisply, the bamboo grove rustled in the morning breeze, and the faint sound of a distant, resonating bell could be heard.
He lay there for a moment before slowly sitting up.
He had slept extremely deeply, without dreams.
The fatigue from days of travel was finally swept away after several hours of deep slumber.
He felt refreshed and invigorated, his entire body suffused with an indescribable feeling of comfort.
He got up and pushed open the door to his room.
Sunlight rushed to meet him, carrying the unique warmth and brightness of early summer.
In the courtyard, the bamboo grove was a lush, vibrant green. A few unknown wildflowers bloomed quietly in a corner by the wall, their petals still adorned with crystal-clear dewdrops.
Qiu Lan was tidying up under the walkway with two other maids. Hearing the door open, she looked up and quickly bowed.
"Senior Brother, you’re awake. Would you like breakfast?"
Fang Han looked up at the sky. The sun was already high; it was probably close to noon.
A faint smile appeared on his lips. It was rare for him to sleep in.
"Bring it in."
"Yes."
Qiu Lan acknowledged and turned to give the order.
Before long, several exquisite side dishes and a bowl of steaming Blood Rice were placed on the table in the side hall.
The dishes were simple, but they were prepared with extreme care, and one could tell at a glance that a lot of effort had gone into them.
Fang Han sat down and ate slowly.
After his meal, he hung the Cloud Splitting Sword at his waist, left the courtyard, and followed the bluestone path toward the Library Pavilion.
His destination, naturally, was to exchange for the Grandmaster Body Technique!