An Qiniang did not receive an imdiate answer, as the figure slowly turned around.
There was no light, yet it did not hinder An Qiniang from clearly seeing the man’s face before her.
What a face it was, cold and profound, with phoenix eyes below the brows that remained calm and slightly lifted.
Thin lips like a knife exuded coldness, and even darkness couldn’t conceal the dominating aura and sharpness emanating from him.
He was a man whose re glance could make one’s soul tremble.
And at this mont, the man was gazing at An Qiniang with a chilling look, his hands clutching sothing.
An Qiniang focused her gaze, it was a pair of strangely charming flowers.
The flowers, their colors vibrant, with golden petals dazzling like the scorching sun, stung An Qiniang’s eyes; those flowers were more beautiful than any she had seen in all her life.
Such flowers, such a man, t in such night, An Qiniang felt a strong chill in her heart.
"Who exactly are you?"
An Qiniang had not realized that her voice was trembling slightly.
It was an inexplicable fear of a Lower Position People toward a Superior.
"You hurt my people and still want to walk away unscathed; tell , how should you die?"
In the dark night, the man sneered, his voice like a snake hissing with venom, chilling from the skin to the bone.
As his voice fell, the flower pistil in his hand suddenly turned red, blood-red.
An Qiniang knew things were not right and wanted to make a move.
Just as she heard a "zing," her eardrums vibrated.
Several shadows swept past her eyes, like a gust of wind, An Qiniang only felt her body, like a falling leaf, flying up.
There was the sound of rushing winds in her ears, whether it was sword wind or Gang Qi, she could no longer distinguish.
Her throat rolled as she attempted to produce a sound, but no matter how hard she tried, the aura within her couldn’t be expelled.
Eight swift sword qi pierced into her limbs, body, and head, nailing her dead to the wall.
An Qiniang’s eyeballs gradually stopped moving, turning a lifeless gray.
Drip, drip, that was the sound of blood hitting the ground.
"It’s a pity that the monk of Namo Mountain isn’t here, otherwise he could recite a Rebirth Mantra for you."
Wu Zhong sneered coldly.
An Qiniang should have died long ago.
Unfortunately, the appearance of Nan Jiu allowed her to live for an additional hour.
After dealing with An Qiniang, the remnants of Hunyuan Sect and Yaochi Immortal Pavilion should also be dealt with together.
Wu Zhong flicked his sleeve, ready to chase Chen Mu and the Great Elder Chang Luo.
Tap, tap—
A series of hurried footsteps accompanied by the sound of clothes flapping ca from outside the courtyard.
Chang Luo Great Elder’s lodging in this inn, the largest in the city, had a courtyard booked just for himself for convenience.
Ordinarily, people at the inn would not dare to intrude rashly.
Could it be, Chen Mu’s group is returning?
So be it, saves him a trip.
Wu Zhong’s sleeve moved, his five fingers forming a palm, as he stealthily approached the tightly closed door like a ghost.
He could crush the intruder’s skull with one palm as soon as he steps in.
Yet just as Wu Zhong’s hand was re inches from the door.
He heard a burst of quick breathing and sensed a faint, familiar fragrance, so deeply familiar it’s unmistakable, contrasting vividly with the thick scent of blood in the courtyard.
Wu Zhong’s brow twitched, his heart seemingly struck and halted.
He swiftly withdrew.
At the mont the courtyard door was pushed open, Wu Zhong hid behind a pillar.
The door creaked open.
Outside the door, Ye Lingyue gasped for breath, her dark eyes fixed on the dark courtyard.
Her pupils shrank sharply, seeing An Qiniang’s corpse on the wall.
An Qiniang’s blood was still warm, sticky and flowing everywhere.
The eight Heavenly Quee swords, like pillars, nailed An Qiniang to the wall, with blood splattered all over.
Her eyeballs bulged out in death, unresolved in her passing.
Dead.
Ye Lingyue swallowed hard, glancing around the courtyard.
The door to the house was open, she had seen Chen Mu and the Great Elder Chang Luo leave Sifang City on her way here.
That person killed An Qiniang shortly after they left.
Wu Zhong... it was Wu Zhong who killed.
The eight Heavenly Quee obtained from the Taiyi Secret Realm are still here.
Monts ago, as she prepared to open the door, she distinctly sensed a swift killing intent.
At that mont, she hesitated briefly.
In her mont of hesitation, the killing intent dispersed quickly like a flood, leaving no trace.
In her ears, she heard shallow breathing.
Ye Lingyue’s gaze moved towards a pillar.
She moved her feet, with difficulty, step by step towards that pillar.
Behind the pillar, Wu Zhong’s body was rigid in fear.
He had already heard that familiar breathing, growing ever closer.
In this life, Wu Zhong had never been as tense as he was tonight.
He did not even dare to move his hand to remove his golden ghost face mask, for he was still wearing Feng Xun’s clothes.
How would he explain to Ye Lingyue that he was wearing the ghost mask and Feng Xun’s clothes, having killed the Half-step Divine Power Realm powerhouse An Qiniang.
She was inevitably going to find out.
Wu Zhong is Feng Xun, Feng Xun is Wu Zhong... How would she react upon knowing?
One is the Feng Xun she loves, the other is the Wu Zhong she despises.
And these two people are the sa person.
Wu Zhong leaned against the pillar, his heart sinking little by little.
She would be angry, turn away and leave, never to pay him attention again.
While Wu Zhong was caught in countless thoughts, Ye Lingyue’s forward-moving feet halted.
She suddenly turned away, quickly running out of the courtyard.
Wu Zhong’s body softened, and he slumped to the ground against the pillar in defeat.
He smiled bitterly and walked out.
In the courtyard, An Qiniang’s corpse remained, Wu Zhong waved his hand, retrieving the eight Heavenly Quee swords.
The cold moonlight filled the courtyard, Ye Lingyue’s abrupt intrusion disrupted Wu Zhong’s plan, and he pondered for a while, choosing not to pursue Chen Mu and the others, but to return swiftly to the inn.
Ye Lingyue ran out of the inn.
In her mind, the scene just now echoed repeatedly.
Despite not seeing the figure behind the pillar, she glimpsed a familiar hem.
That’s Feng Xun’s clothes, the very one he wore during the day.
Ye Lingyue’s mind was in chaos.
An answer was screaming crazily in her head.
"Impossible, impossible, how could Feng Xun be..." Ye Lingyue shook her head vehently, as though trying to dispel that increasingly ingrained thought.
Yet there was a voice in her heart, continually whispering.
"You’ve suspected it for a long ti, why deceive yourself?"
In her mind and heart, two starkly different voices waged a Heavenly Person conflict, endlessly for an hour, until Ye Lingyue finally cald a bit.
She walked back to her lodging inn, only to see a familiar figure pacing near.
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