"Four is more than enough."
The speaker was a tall woman wearing a veil. Her voice was calm and even as she spoke, her slender fingers pressed against her waist.
"Dongqing, do not overstep your bounds. The young palace master is, after all, your master." The remaining three looked on with apprehension, pressing down on her hands, their tone filled with eager excitement as well as uneasy uncertainty.
Leng Wuqing laughed even more heartily, and simply bent down, leaning his whole body on Wu Shilang's back, as if affectionately wrapping his arms around Wu Shilang.
“You can all come together. It’s been a long time since I’ve encountered anything interesting,” he said, his body trembling slightly. Cold sweat frequently seeped from his body, which was lying on Gyuro’s back, soaking a large area of her back. But the smile on his face became even brighter. “One by one, I don’t have that much time.”
Outside the stables, all was silent, with the four men standing there, their expressions complex and frozen in a tense standoff.
Inside the stable, the cold, merciless sweat was increasing, and there was a strong possibility that he was about to collapse. Isoro endured it for a long time, but finally couldn't help it and moved his body slightly.
"He's bluffing," the one named Dongqing suddenly shouted, pointing at Leng Wuqing who was lying on Wushilang's back. "Look, that kid just moved a little, and he can't stand up straight anymore."
Leng Wuqing's eyes narrowed, he gave a cold laugh, straightened up, and said, "That's right, I was indeed bluffing. Senior brothers and sisters, why don't you come in and have a chat?"
His words shocked everyone except for Wu Shilang. Even the clamoring Dong Qing didn't dare to be careless and maintained a serious expression, confronting him.
All around was silent, except for the occasional neighing of horses and the sound of everyone breathing.
Before anyone knew it, a thin yellow mist, carrying a sweet fragrance, gradually began to rise from outside the stables and drifted in little by little.
The cold-blooded man, who was resting on Goruro's shoulder, immediately turned cold and his muscles stiffened.
The aroma was sweet, with a hint of pastry. Ishiro couldn't help but sniff it again and again. She was already hungry, and the sniff made her stomach rumble.
Leng Wuqing could no longer laugh and said seriously, "Cover your mouth and nose. This smoke is poisonous." As he spoke, he gritted his teeth and tried to cover Wushilang's mouth and nose.
Wu Shilang stupidly ducked his head and reflexively pushed him. As soon as his shoulders and back were separated from Leng Wuqing, he immediately lost his support and fell down weakly.
"Damn it!" By the time Ichiro realized what was happening, he had already fallen onto the firewood. He glared at me angrily, but when he saw Ichiro's frustrated expression, he suddenly burst out laughing. "Alright, alright, you've ruined all my hard work on this performance."
The four men outside the stable, seeing him fall, were overjoyed and looked at each other with smiles.
"Senior Brother, he was just bluffing after all."
The man at the head of the group, with his white hair and eyebrows, smiled smugly: "Not bad, not bad. As expected, Junior Sister is the most intelligent. I never thought that Leng Wuqing would have such a day."
The situation changed drastically, and he no longer even addressed him as "Young Palace Master."
Leng Wuqing leaned against the hay with a smile, not answering his question.
"Senior Brother, why are you arguing with him? Go up and kill him, then you can seize the treasure-refining manual." The woman in black raised her eyebrows, pressed two fingers to her waist, pulled out a strand of cloud silk, wrapped it around her fingertip, and said triumphantly, "This brat has always been cunning, manipulating all of us fellow disciples. Now, I will cut off his flesh inch by inch, so that he will know the pain of those fellow disciples who died violently in the past."
Leng Wuqing was still smiling, looking very relaxed. He said with a grin, "I knew that Junior Sister cared about me the most. As the saying goes, it is hardest to bear the kindness of a beauty. To be remembered by such a beauty as you, I, the Palace Master, am very gratified."
His flippant tone only fueled the woman in black's anger.
"Senior Brother, Seventh Brother, Ninth Brother, no need to say more to him. Let's all four of us attack together and take him down first. After that, Baochan Palace will be ours."
When she spoke of her triumphs, she threw her head back and laughed, her veil billowing and rippling. In the quiet night, her voice was sharp and piercing, like a sharp blade cutting through the night sky. Leng Wuqing, who was half-lying in the stable, also laughed in a low voice, which was hoarse from being dry for a long time and sounded even more magnetic.
“Not bad, not bad. You have truly grasped the essence of Baochan Palace. My position as Palace Master is indeed one that the capable should hold. When the old Palace Master was in power, he also employed people based solely on their talents.”
He actually looked quite appreciative. At this point, even the most foolish person would realize that the current situation is extremely serious.
Cold sweat slowly seeped out of Goruro's body. He half-squatted down, turned his head to look at Leng Wuqing, and said with a bitter face, "I think I won't get involved in resolving internal disputes within your palace."
Leng Wuqing glanced at her sideways, finding it quite amusing, and said leisurely, "We share the sky as our blanket and the earth as our bed, living and sleeping together. Under the current circumstances, do you think I can distinguish between you and me?"
Such ambiguous words immediately enraged the few people outside the stable. "Young Palace Master, you are really a flirt. Even in your current state, you can still flirt with him."
Isoro immediately shut up and slowly moved further into the stable.
"Young Palace Master, do you all feel weak all over and short of breath?" The eldest senior brother asked in a sinister tone, his small eyes flashing, as he stepped on the dry firewood in the stable, which immediately made a crisp, small cracking sound.
"Hmm, I've always felt weak all over." Leng Wuqing lay quietly on the hay, smiling slightly. "As for your rapid breathing, your influence is far less than that of the young lady over there."
With that casual gesture, everyone's eyes immediately turned to Igarashi, startling him so much that he jumped out from the shadows while hiding in the corner.
Upon hearing Leng Wuqing's words, the four people who were slowly walking immediately froze in place.
The senior disciple, who was in the lead, twitched his face and it took him a long time to regain his composure: "Truly, a true master doesn't reveal his abilities. We overlooked you, young lady. We wonder which school you belong to."
Despite being supposed to be poisoned, Goruro was full of energy and had a rosy complexion. Apart from the occasional gurgling sounds coming from her stomach, all signs indicated that she was doing very well.
That energetic jump just now made it clear to the four that she was not poisoned at all.
Isoro scratched his head and chuckled awkwardly, then waved his hand shyly and said, "My masters are all my own concubines, fifty in total. I don't know which one you're asking about."
She wasn't lying at all. The fifty concubines in the Xiao family came from all over the country, and each of them had taught her something, such as needlework or how to dress...
As expected of a grand sect, even the concubines each possessed profound martial arts skills. The four who were frozen in shock were all taken aback and gripped their weapons even tighter.
Leng Wuqing, lying on the ground, twitched at the corner of his mouth. After a long while, he pretended to be surprised, forced a smile, and said, "I didn't know you were so low-key and concealed your martial arts family background so thoroughly. No wonder you had no reaction to our sect's number one poison."
His words made the four who were standing frozen even more frightened. They stared at Igarashi with wide eyes, looking on guard, and their attention was focused on Igarashi.
Isoro was immediately speechless and could only rouse himself to look over.
Both men in the standoff were drenched in cold sweat and dared not even blink.
"Senior Brother, do you all feel weak all over and short of breath?" Leng Wuqing, who had been half-lying on the ground, slowly stood up and was leisurely tidying his graying robe. "I've calculated that it's about time. This Palace Master really doesn't have time to watch you bunch of idiots glaring at each other."
As soon as he finished speaking, the four men who had been standing upright bent over in cold sweat, veins bulging on their necks, hands gripping their necks, and hoarse, struggling sounds coming from their throats.
"Young Palace Master, please, give us an antidote!" Before long, those who had collapsed to the ground began to roll around violently, large beads of sweat streaming down their faces, their complexions gradually turning dark purple. Seeing Leng Wuqing smilingly watching them suffer, they crawled over, desperately pleading, "Please, Young Palace Master, give us a quick death."
"I don't ask for an antidote, I only ask the young palace master to give me a quick death!" It was the eldest brother who spoke. His eyes were deathly gray, and he still had a breath left. It was as if the words that came out of his mouth had taken away most of his life force.
"I am not an unreasonable person," Leng Wuqing said, her eyes as cold as ice, a smile playing on her lips, her voice icy, "I have always believed in the principle of the capable rising to the top..."
He paused, smiling as he waited for the four on the ground to come to their senses.
The eldest disciple, lying on the ground, suddenly ignited a flame in his eyes and asked in a hoarse voice, "What does the young palace master mean...?"
Leng Wuqing smiled at him and nodded, saying, "Senior Brother is truly intelligent. No wonder the Old Palace Master doted on you the most back then."
The four on the ground trembled upon hearing Leng Wuqing's words. They struggled to their feet, glared at each other, gritted their teeth, and soon began to fight like trapped beasts.
Leng Wuqing patted his clothes and saw that Wushilang was sneakily reaching out of the stables not far away. He was pleased and couldn't help but smile slightly. Suddenly, he raised his voice and said, "Wushilang, come and serve this master."
Isoro was quite annoyed when he was stopped, so he could only pout and slowly move towards him.
"I hate those who have offended me the most," Leng Wuqing said through gritted teeth with a smile.
His arrogant tone made the listener feel very uncomfortable. Isoro immediately stopped in her tracks, her extreme anger making her forget the fight that had made her tremble with fear, ignoring the blood splattering around her, and angrily retorted, "This young lady also hates those who offend this lady."
Leng Wuqing's face darkened, his eyes grew cold, and he glared at them with a sinister look. Wu Shilang was enraged by his stare and glared back, raising his eyebrows as if he were about to put his hands on his hips and stare back at them.
"You're not afraid of me?" He laughed angrily, reaching out to grab Wu Shilang. His face, which looked exactly like Leng Wushuang's, was filled with loneliness and a cold laugh in the pale moonlight.
It has an indescribable, yin-like beauty!
Isoro turned away, dodging her hand, and looked at him stubbornly, angrily saying, "Why should I be afraid of you?"
Leng Wuqing glanced at her coldly, but smiled without saying a word, and slowly squatted down. The four people who had fought amongst themselves earlier were all lying down. Except for the eldest brother, whose chest was rising and falling slightly, the others were already cold and stiff, but could not breathe their last.
"Young Palace Master, give me a quick death, don't make things difficult for my family." The eldest disciple, who was lying on the ground barely breathing, suddenly opened his eyes, grabbed Leng Wuqing's sleeve, and begged with his last bit of strength.
"Oh? How do you interpret 'heart-wrenching'?" Leng Wuqing tilted his head and smiled, slowly drawing the Mandarin Duck Curved Sword from his waist and casually slicing it across the elbows of his senior brother's arms, saying, "Is that so?"
With one slash, the wound went deep enough to see the bone, and the dark red muscles burst outwards, with black liquid gushing out and quickly covering the ground.
"Still like this?" His knife moved slowly, settling on the man's femur, and slowly pierced deep inside. His pair of curved knives, each inch of thrust, were withdrawn half an inch before being pushed in again. The blade scraped against the senior brother's flesh, causing him excruciating pain, making him wish he could die instantly. "Or perhaps, because of your abilities, I could grant you the antidote and spare you this time? However, I really do want to help you." As he spoke, he took out a small porcelain bottle from his waist, crushed a tiny grain, and sprinkled it evenly on the wounds. Soon, black smoke hissed from the wounds, and after the smoke, small clumps of maggots crawled out from the wounds.
The eldest brother on the ground was in so much pain that he was speechless. His small eyes were wide open, his face was ashen, and his whole body was trembling uncontrollably.
Isoro, who was standing to the side, could no longer bear to watch. Seeing the white patch on the bloody, mangled wound, he felt like vomiting up his stomach contents.
Leng Wuqing turned his head, glanced at him sideways, handed over the knife, and suddenly laughed happily, "Do you want to play?"
Isoro completely broke down, waving his hands repeatedly and saying, "Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself." Recalling the angry glare they had exchanged earlier, a layer of fine sweat broke out on his body.
"So, those who offend this Palace Master never have a good ending." Leng Wuqing looked at him with a smile, stood up, clapped his hands, and looked very bored. "I originally had a brilliant plan worth tens of millions that could make his death more painful, but unfortunately I left in too much of a hurry and all those props were left in the palace."
The number of worms on the senior brother's wound was increasing. It was no longer just those white maggots, but also some insects whose names he did not know. They flew in one after another and began to gnaw and spread from the wound.
He couldn't even groan; the muscles in his face trembled violently, tears and snot streaming down his face as he cried out in a trembling voice, "Give me a quick death, give me a quick death!"
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The above is equivalent to the first twelve chapters of the published text.
Chapter 13 to the end were hand-typed by the Orange Garden Hand-Type Team.
[Produced by the Orange Garden Hand-Typed Team. Welcome to visit ]
Chapter Thirteen: Accompanying Like Family
Isoro was so frightened that his hands and feet turned ice cold.
Leng Wuqing smiled, and only gradually stopped smiling when the maggots had gnawed his senior brother down to a skeleton.
Under the moonlight, his white robes were stained with black blood, his jet-black hair cascading over his shoulders, and he was enveloped in a faint halo, possessing an otherworldly, sinister allure. After a long silence, he turned his head slightly, his eyes darting around, and seeing the deathly pale-faced Isoro, he smiled knowingly and said, "You're the first..."
When Goruro recalled how he had just tortured his senior brother to death, his eyes rolled back and he almost fainted.
Upon seeing this, Leng Wuqing immediately roared, "If you dare to faint, I'll turn you into a pool of blood!"
Isoro's heart skipped a beat, his mind cleared instantly, his eyes widened as he stared at the scene, biting his lip and remaining silent.
"You're the first person to frankly say they hate me." Leng Wuqing smiled, tilting his head, his eyes deep and unreadable.
Standing in the stable, Isoro was caught between a rock and a hard place, his heart pounding with fear that the man before him might turn him into blood in a moment of whimsy.
"He was also the first person to sing for me."
Speaking of singing, Ishiro immediately felt a chill run down his spine. He remembered how he had watched himself shout "Eighteen Touches" over and over again on the cart with a look of despair on his face, and he couldn't help but shudder.
"And he was the first person to meet my gaze and hurl insults." He looked at Igarashi with a half-smile, a mocking expression on his face, "So..."
Wu Shilang was immediately overcome with grief, raised his hands above his head and cried out, "Young Master, a hero doesn't fight with a woman, and a magnanimous person doesn't hold a grudge against a petty person. I was wrong."
She understood the simple truth that a wise man doesn't suffer a loss in front of him.
She wailed for a long time without shedding a single tear. She could only raise her sleeve, her eyes darting around under it as she pondered how she could escape this demon and set off alone to find Wushuang.
Leng Wuqing looked over with a smile, very gently: "I didn't mean to make things difficult for you. It's just a minor offense. I'm in the mood for playing, so you might as well play with me for a bit."
Isoro's face immediately fell.
"On the other hand, what are you worried about? I promised you that I would accompany you to find Leng Wushuang, so you can rest assured about that."
Isoro's expression softened slightly, his eyes glancing at Leng Wuqing, and he said timidly, "After all, I saved your life... Let's even out the debt for what I did to you."