Before Yuan Zhong could finish speaking, Wanqiu and Lanxuan, Tang Hua’s two maids, moved with lightning speed, positioning themselves protectively in front of Tang Hua. Step by step, they retreated toward the door, only stopping when they reached it. Clearly, these maids had undergone strict training. Although mortal, their movements were exceptionally swift and precise.
Yuan Zhong’s face was pale, clearly struggling to keep himself from succumbing to the effects of the drug.
Tang Hua remained calm as he watched him. After a long moment, he finally spoke, “You’ve been too reckless, carrying our clan’s greatest treasure and refusing to follow orders. Ding Xu was kind enough to let you go, but I couldn’t stand it any longer. Ever since you were young, you’ve been protected by Monk Xinyou and Elder Ding Xu. You never revealed your true face, even to our own people, and you’ve never even disclosed your real name. Hmph, Ding Xu knew you’d made enemies, afraid someone might use a curse to kill you. But Yuan Zhong, I went through every confidential record and finally discovered your true name.”
Yuan Zhong tried to pull himself upright but collapsed back down, his breathing heavy as he fought against the drug's effects. His voice trembled slightly, “...I never imagined that my own people would turn on me. Do you hate me that much?”
Tang Hua had grown up with Yuan Zhong, both raised by Elder Ding Xu. Ding Xu was known for being harsh and suspicious, and most of those he trained inherited his suspicious nature—except for Tang Hua, who was the exception. Tang Hua had always been kind, so much so that the maids he kept were spoiled beyond measure. Even when they made mistakes, Tang Hua would only sigh and never utter a harsh word. He was so kind that while the other people of Fangwai Mountain avoided Yuan Zhong because of his strange temper, Tang Hua still maintained some relationship with him, though Yuan Zhong often angered him.
Even now, Yuan Zhong found it hard to believe that Tang Hua, of all people, would be the one to poison him. If anyone were to hear about it, they wouldn’t believe it either.
Tang Hua shook his head, clearly unwilling to discuss it further. He signaled to Wanqiu with a glance, and she immediately understood.
Wanqiu, usually gentle and poised like a noblewoman despite being a maid, always wore long flowing sleeves. Now, she stepped forward, drawing a short knife from her sleeve. The blade was as clear as autumn water and as cold as shattered ice.
She took several steps toward Tan Yin, her target clearly not Yuan Zhong.
Yuan Zhong suddenly spoke, “What? Your target isn’t me?”
Tang Hua’s face darkened as he replied coldly, “Kill the woman! Leaving her by his side will only cause disaster in the end.”
Tan Yin could only watch as Wanqiu approached her. Though her consciousness was unaffected, her body was completely paralyzed, and she couldn’t summon her divine power. The suffocating sensation in her chest wasn’t entirely unfamiliar, but in her panic, she couldn’t recall where she’d felt it before.
In a matter of moments, Wanqiu reached her. Her beautiful face remained expressionless as she raised the knife and aimed directly at Tan Yin’s chest. Fast, ruthless, and precise—without hesitation.
With a sharp clang, the knife struck a thin golden barrier, almost bouncing out of Wanqiu’s hand. A golden light flashed, forcibly disarming her. Wanqiu’s face paled, and she retreated several steps with a quick leap, refusing to engage the golden light.
The golden light fell to the ground and revealed Yuan Zhong’s figure. He moved his arms and legs as if nothing had happened, the earlier weakness gone. As Tang Hua looked at him in surprise, Yuan Zhong gave a small smile, his eyes turning cold. “Your Chill’s Edge incense and Melancholy Soul tea were quite novel. Thank you for that. But Tang Hua, don’t forget—I’ve been a monk for three cycles of sixty years. If I hadn’t been cautious, how could I have survived until now?”
Yuan Zhong had long been wary. He only used incense he made himself and drank tea he personally brewed. Tang Hua had broken both of those habits upon arriving, so Yuan Zhong had been on guard from the beginning. He had invited them to his cave dwelling, but never intended to fully trust them. Still, he hadn’t expected the combination of incense and tea to be so potent that even Tan Yin was affected.
Tang Hua’s face hardened. “I knew you wouldn’t be so easy to deal with...”
Yuan Zhong raised a hand, stopping him. He stared directly at Tang Hua, his voice low. “Tang Hua, we’ve known each other for three cycles of sixty years. Why today?”
The Fox Clan wasn’t like the battle-hungry war spirits; it wasn’t a clan of warriors. The people of the Fox Clan loved crafting incense and brewing wine, living peaceful and elegant lives. It was understandable that Tang Hua would disapprove of Yuan Zhong keeping Ji Tan Yin by his side, especially considering the treasure in Yuan Zhong’s possession. But for Tang Hua to actually harm someone was something else entirely. Moreover, Tang Hua must have known that, if it came to a fight, even ten Tang Huas wouldn’t be a match for Yuan Zhong.
Tang Hua said nothing. He raised his hand, pointing at Ji Tan Yin, who lay motionless on the ground.
Suddenly, Lanxuan, standing in front of him, moved. From her sleeves, she pulled out two short daggers—artifacts of unknown origin. Even unsheathed, the daggers emitted an almost maddening sound of slaughter.
The moment Yuan Zhong heard that sound, his expression subtly changed.
It was rumored that the master of Xiangqu Mountain loved collecting rare treasures, and Yuan Zhong had seen these very daggers at one of the grand festivals on the mountain. It was said they were capable of killing gods, relics left behind by demons from the ancient war between gods and demons. How Tang Hua had gotten hold of them, Yuan Zhong couldn’t imagine.
Lanxuan was fast. One dagger was thrown immediately, silently striking the golden barrier, which shattered like a bubble. The second dagger flew directly toward Tan Yin’s chest.
But it collided with yet another barrier. As the barrier shattered, the dagger was flung to the ground. Yuan Zhong, now glowing with golden light, scooped Tan Yin into his arms and, in a flash, appeared behind Lanxuan. Despite her agility, she was still a mortal, and before she could react, Yuan Zhong delivered a swift blow to the side of her neck, knocking her unconscious.
Tang Hua moved to intervene, but suddenly felt a biting chill in front of him. Yuan Zhong’s left hand, now bare of its black silk glove, hovered just three inches from Tang Hua’s throat. The palm, dark red with a faint glow, was a hand blessed by the gods.
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