"Got it."

"Who?"

Jiang Shangli said, "You go."

Qin Tu widened his eyes and said, "Me? I can't beat him!"

Jiang Shangli sighed and said:

"That's why it's better for you to die than for me to die."

After a long while, Jiang Shangli slumped his face, his brows furrowed deeply.

A while later, he asked:

"Where did that person go?"

"Seems like… Moon Viewing Tower. Brought a woman with him."

Jiang Shangli was startled and said, "Isn't that Lifeng Pavilion's base?!"

Qin Tu suddenly remembered and said, "County Magistrate, didn't you negotiate with Lifeng Pavilion's people a few days ago…"

"Brought a woman? It can't just be for pleasure…" Jiang Shangli slammed the table and said, "He's going to kill someone. How many is he going to kill?!"

............

"Seventeen."

Chen Yi counted the corpses.

Seven men and ten women in total, all assassins hidden within Moon Viewing Tower from Lifeng Pavilion, and all skilled in martial arts.

But regrettably, today they all died here.

Beside him, Lu Ying's face was pale as she stepped back and bumped into the splintered remnants of a sandalwood chair.

She still remembered, after Chen Yi's disguise as the so-called "Muddy Blade Sisters" was exposed, he had smashed a chair into the shopkeeper's face. Splinters flew, the chair legs cracked into four pieces, and he pushed one of the broken legs forward, piercing through the man's throat.

That manager, in his dying moments, flailed his hands, recalling Chen Yi's words just before he acted:

"You shouldn't have exposed me."

Yin Sword Mountain practiced Taoist and Martial Dual Cultivation. Lu Ying knew these assassins were all people who tread the edge of life and death, each with more than a few lives claimed by their hands.

But under Chen Yi's hands, it was as easy as slaughtering chickens.

His movements were fluid and effortless; his sword darted like a dragon or snake, cutting among the shadows. Wherever the blade passed, remnants of bloodshed followed, echoes of splattering still lingering in Lu Ying's ears.

"They're all dead." Chen Yi casually grabbed a section of a torn silk curtain, wiping the blood off his sword.

Lu Ying stood frozen, unable to respond for quite some time.

Chen Yi patted her on the shoulder and said, "Lu Xian Gu, what's wrong with you?"

Yin Sword Mountain practiced Taoist and Martial Dual Cultivation, a sect not unfamiliar with blood, and Lu Ying was the top disciple of Sword Armor. While the scene was gruesome, it shouldn't have left her trembling like this.

She delayed her reaction but finally said, "You… you… how did you wield those swords?"

Chen Yi dragged his voice and said, "Oh?"

Lu Ying replayed those moments in her mind. The flashes of swordlight seemed to remain before her eyes.

This was Yin Sword Mountain's Living Sword…

He was only five or six years older than her, yet somehow… every strike of his seemed incredibly refined…

Chen Yi noticed the change in Lu Ying's expression.

Yin Sword Mountain practiced Taoist and Martial Dual Cultivation, but Lu Ying excelled in Taoism more than in martial arts. She reached the Core Formation Realm at seventeen, but her martial skills were still stuck at Ninth Grade.

As Sword Armor's top disciple, it was natural for her to feel ashamed.

Now, seeing his mastery of the Living Sword, it was only normal for her to feel some admiration.

They bore no grudges across lifetimes. If she wanted to ask for guidance, Chen Yi certainly wouldn't refuse her—after all, she was the senior disciple.

Lu Ying's lips moved slightly.

Chen Yi prepared himself to tease her with a few remarks before teaching her a move or two.

But instead, he heard her say:

"Are you… lonely?"

"Lonely?" Chen Yi was momentarily stunned.

With the Living Sword, he had single-handedly slaughtered ten people. Yet Lu Ying asked him if he felt lonely?

Before Chen Yi could make sense of the question, he suddenly heard faint sounds—like footsteps approaching.

Chen Yi turned his head and said:

"Oh, another one has slipped through the net."

Before his words even settled, his sword was already extending. In the pavilion stained red by blood as if painted with ink, a chilling frosty light leapt forth.

Sword Qi surged violently; the cold blade aura from the three-foot Sword Gang was sharp and fierce.

One strike aimed directly for the face, but the newcomer abruptly dropped to both knees and shouted:

"Hold on, hero! It's me, Qin Tu, remember when we fought!"

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