The middle-aged woman, who had been hurling insults at them just a second before, instantly changed her expression, rushing forward in a fawning bow, "Madam, what brings you to such a dirty place? You could have sent a servant with a ssage if you needed sothing."
The white-robed woman didn’t even glance at her, her eyes sweeping over the n. No one dared to et her gaze, and everyone lowered their heads, filled with trepidation.
Yang Xiao sneaked a look at her: a very young woman with chiseled features, sword-like eyebrows and starry eyes, full of heroic spirit. A sword hung at her left waist, and on the right, under a white jade fastening, dangled a bright green token carved with words and patterns.
"Is everyone here?" the woman asked coldly.
"Yes, Madam, everyone is here. For this autumn tribute, all sects and nearby prefectures have presented 60 handso n, excluding the 5 who t an early death, leaving 55 here."
The heroic woman nodded, raising her left hand as the attendant behind her quickly extended a tray containing two inverted warm-colored wooden tokens.
The woman picked up a token, glanced at the engraved words, and promptly announced, "Summon Little Pear Blossom into the chamber for service!"
With these words, the n below breathed a sigh of relief, glad to temporarily escape the clutches of the female demon, though so rejoiced while others lanted. The man nad collapsed in despair, crying and shouting as if losing his mind.
At the sa ti, following a signal from the overseeing woman, two sturdy won charged into the crowd and, like eagles catching chicks, dragged the chosen man out.
The n watching were horrified, yet none dared to intervene. They knew far too well what this place was. Once they walked through these doors, their lives were no longer their own, reduced to re playthings of the terrifying female demon.
"Ah!!" Suddenly, one of the burly won clutching the man’s clothing scread.
In the next mont, blood stread from her abdon through her fingers.
"You beasts! I’ll fight you!" The man, having sohow acquired a dagger, abruptly stabbed the woman holding him, then charged at the white-robed woman.
The white-robed woman raised her hand, stopping her guards, and just watched the man rush at her with the dagger. As they were less than three steps apart, a cold light flashed, and Yang Xiao heard a sword hum. The next mont, the woman sheathed her sword.
A head flew into the crowd, landing at Yang Xiao’s feet. Remarkably, the headless body stumbled forward for two steps, collapsing powerlessly before the white-robed woman.
This move stunned everyone present. Yang Xiao hadn’t even seen her draw the sword; he was certain that this white-robed woman was an Angel Envoy — a very high-rank one — and that sword was her Magic Artifact.
"Despicable wretch, daring to offend the master, deserved to die!!" cursed the overseeing middle-aged woman. "Fetch him out, chop up his corpse, and feed it to the dogs at the back mountain!"
Soon, the man’s body was hauled away, leaving a thick trail of blood on the ground, while the head remained abandoned, its eyes wide open, full of unwillingness.
This was silent intimidation; everyone present felt precarious, and Yang Xiao even heard soone quietly sobbing.
"Which house sent this person?" The white-robed woman, who had slain the man with one stroke, lifted her head, her icy face devoid of emotion.
"Madam, he is from the Wang Family of Diancang Sect, Jingzhou Prefecture; this person is the Sect Leader’s legitimate grandson," replied the overseeing middle-aged woman after checking the records.
"Send this head to their doorstep, have the Sect Leader exchange it with his own head."
"Madam is benevolent; if it were , I’d slaughter the entire Wang Family," the middle-aged woman sneered coldly, saying this to the remaining n present.
The white-robed woman took a handkerchief to clean her hands, then leisurely picked up the other token from the tray. The n’s hearts were in their throats.
"Don’t call , don’t call , I just arrived, surely I won’t be that unlucky," thought Yang Xiao, anxious.
"Summon Little Begonia into the chamber for service!"
With the white-robed woman’s announcent, Yang Xiao’s heart sank.
Two brutish won stord in, roughly dragging him away, their hands thoroughly searching him to ensure he had no Ominous Instrunt after the previous incident.
Yang Xiao, now completely devoid of spiritual power, was helpless before the two fierce won; he cooperated fully to avoid unnecessary physical suffering.
But even if he had spiritual power, it wouldn’t help; others might not know, but the white-robed woman was soone he couldn’t handle, at least at the sa level as his Martial Uncle.
To the limits of Yang Xiao’s imagination, the Opera Robe Ghost in life was undoubtedly a Netherworld-level peak Angel Envoy, a powerful vassal reigning alone. He clearly heard the won’s dialogue earlier — forcing Jianghu Sects to offer tribute was one thing, but commanding local prefectures to present handso n was rebellion.
Moreover, using the term as if an imperial selection — selecting handso n, playing around like Emperor himself.
His presence here must be the Opera Robe Ghost’s doing. Yang Xiao wanted to see what tricks she intended to play.
Being brought to a similar world wasn’t his first ti; he had so experience by now, and dying here shouldn’t happen. At most, he’d face so hardship.
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