Chapter 682

By the banks of the Smoke Water River, in a small grove of trees.

The wounded Overriver Dragon knelt on the ground.

Cheng Mo and the other three stood facing their opponents, looking solemn.

The golden-clad young master, with his proud expression and brocade robes adorned with gold thread, sneered coldly; six or seven young cultivators stood beside him, all wearing hostile expressions.

This golden-clad young master and his companions were all, without exception, Foundation Establishment mid-stage cultivators.

Mo Hua, hidden and crouched on the tree, thought for a moment, but still did not reveal himself rashly.

Cheng Mo had been ambushed by the golden-clad young master; though he blocked the sword light, his blood qi still churned, and he roared angrily:

"Who are you people?"

The golden-clad young master sneered, "You're not worthy to know."

Situ Jian's gaze sharpened, and he said gravely, "It's the Duanjin Gate. Just now, that sword qi was the Duanjin Sword Art."

Situ Jian cultivated sword arts and had some knowledge of the more prominent sword sects in Qianxue Province.

Many sword techniques with distinct features, though he had never learned them, he still knew a little about.

Mo Hua, hiding in the tree, froze in surprise.

Duanjin Gate?

No wonder…

He had felt that sword qi was strangely familiar—it was the Duanjin Gate's signature sword art, the Duanjin Sword Art, which he had obtained from Brother Jiang.

He had even practiced it himself…

But he wasn't a sword cultivator; the Duanjin sword qi he'd hastily learned was too weak, like a fake—it was nothing like the sharp, potent sword qi just now wielded by this golden-clad cultivator, which was why he hadn't recognized it at first…

"Duanjin Gate…"

Mo Hua's gaze swept over the golden-clad young master and his group, his expression thoughtful.

Having his identity exposed, the golden-clad young master grew even more arrogant.

"Oh? You recognize the Duanjin sword qi? You've got some insight."

Yang Qianjun snorted coldly, his eyes sharp:

"So what if you're from Duanjin Gate? We're carrying out a Dao Ting Si bounty, acting on our sect's orders. Are you trying to rob us?"

The golden-clad young master scoffed, "You're after the bounty? Are we not?"

He swept his sleeve aside and pointed at Duan Jiang Long:

"This vile beast, we've been tracking for days, had already cornered him, ready to net him—only for you brats to interfere, snatch him first, steal our credit. Isn't that your kind, lacking all sense of propriety?"

Seeing them twist the truth, Cheng Mo cursed:

"You're full of shit! You've been tracking nothing! You just want to steal the credit, and you even have the nerve to put gold on your ass—no, to paste gold on your ass that looks like a face!"

The golden-clad young master's face flushed red, his expression furious and ashamed.

Born into nobility and a top-tier figure in his sect, he had never endured such humiliation; his eyes now held a cold, sharp edge.

"You brat, you're asking for death!"

Cheng Mo remained unafraid; Yang Qianjun gripped his spear, and Situ Jian declared proudly:

"You're a noble scion, and so are we. You have a sect, and so do we! What? You plan to kill us out here in the wilderness?"

The golden-clad young master hesitated, his face twitching.

He truly dared not…

If they were ordinary cultivators, he could kill them and be done with it—even if Dao Ting Si came knocking, he'd just sacrifice a lackey as a scapegoat.

There were plenty of ways to clear his name.

But if he killed a noble cultivator, a sect disciple, this matter wouldn't be so easily settled.

Beside the golden-clad young master, one young cultivator flattered him:

"Young Master Jin, killing them would soil your hands. Let us handle it—break a few of their ribs, give them a proper humiliation…"

"Even if they go back to complain, they'll only bring shame upon themselves."

Another nearby chimed in sarcastically:

"Exactly. Let these greenhorn brats learn that when you roam the world, you must keep your eyes open—you can't offend those you shouldn't."

The golden-clad young master, addressed as "Young Master Jin," nodded and looked down condescendingly:

"Fine. I'm not a petty man…"

He glanced coldly at the kneeling Overriver Dragon and snorted, "Leave us your 'prey,' apologize to me, and I'll let you go unpunished. Otherwise…"

Young Master Jin's smile twisted; faint golden, razor-sharp sword qi rose and fell around him, "Don't blame me for taking it upon myself to discipline you on behalf of your sect."

Cheng Mo couldn't stand his haughty, overbearing demeanor and was about to curse him again when the Tai Xu Token trembled. He pulled it out and saw one character:

"Go."

It was from Mo Hua.

Situ Jian and the others had received it too.

They exchanged glances, communicated silently with their eyes, and all gave slight nods.

Young Master Jin had also seen their tokens and frowned, "You're disciples of Tai Xu Gate?"

When on missions, Cheng Mo and the others usually wore ordinary clothes, not Tai Xu Gate robes.

Young Master Jin had guessed they were sect disciples, but hadn't known which sect until now.

Cheng Mo lifted his chin, "Correct. Now you're afraid, right?"

Young Master Jin sneered, "Tai Xu Gate? It's not even one of the Sida Sect. Do you think we Duanjin Gate fear you?"

"Besides…"

Young Master Jin smiled meaningfully, "Your Tai Xu Gate's rules are lax, your disciples lack ambition, your sword skills decline every year—you're no longer worthy to rank among the 'Eight Gates.'"

"If this continues, one day we'll be replaced by the Golden Sword Sect..."

Cheng Mo cursed: "You golden sack of shit, dreaming impossible dreams—go dream them in your mother's womb!"

The Young Master Jin's eyes slowly hardened.

Sister Situ immediately grabbed Cheng Mo's arm and whispered:

"Don't stir up trouble. Let's leave first."

Cheng Mo reluctantly fell silent.

The others across from them were numerous and of higher cultivation—clearly senior disciples of the Golden Sword Sect. Facing such disadvantage, direct confrontation was truly unwise.

Cheng Mo kicked the fallen Guojialong once more, then the four gathered close, gripping their spiritual weapons tightly, watching the Young Master Jin's group warily as they slowly retreated toward the forest's edge.

As they were about to vanish from sight, one of the Golden Sword Sect disciples beside the Young Master Jin asked:

"Young Master, should we…?"

The Young Master Jin's expression was cold. "We can't touch the Grand Void Gate disciples lightly. If things get truly out of hand, even the Golden Sword Sect can't protect us—not like those minor sects..."

The disciple bowed. "Yes, Young Master."

Then the Young Master Jin and his group simply stood there, sneering, watching Cheng Mo's group depart.

After Cheng Mo's group exited the forest and put more distance between them, their expressions were all furious.

"Assholes of the Golden Sword Sect!"

"So shameless!"

"We worked our asses off to catch him, and they just swooped in and stole him thanks to their numbers!"

"Six hundred merit points!"

Cheng Mo felt a sharp pang in his chest.

Sister Situ and the others sighed.

All that hard work, finally securing the merit points—and now they were gone.

Yang Qianjun frowned. "Wasn't this mission ours? How did the Golden Sword Sect even know?"

"Did they not even take the mission, just want to grab him and deliver him to Dao Ting Si for the bounty?"

"Or did they just happen to pass by, saw we were weak, and decided to snatch him on the spot?"

Cheng Mo and the others all shook their heads, baffled.

Sister Situ suddenly froze. "Where's Mo Hua?"

He looked around, thinking Mo Hua must be hiding nearby, unseen, and whispered:

"Senior Brother~"

But the surroundings were empty—no one was there.

Hao Xuan pulled out the Grand Void Token, glanced at it, then looked up. "Senior Brother told us to go ahead—he'll meet us at the ferry."

Cheng Mo frowned. "What's he doing?"

Hao Xuan shook his head.

He couldn't fathom Senior Brother's thoughts.

"Do we head to the ferry?" Cheng Mo asked.

Sister Situ thought for a moment, unable to guess Mo Hua's intent, then shook his head:

"We wait here. It's close to the small forest—if Mo Hua's in danger, we can still lend support."

"The Golden Sword Sect has numbers, but even if they capture us, they won't dare kill us—we'd just suffer some pain."

"But if Mo Hua is alone and caught by them… that's another matter entirely..."

Though Mo Hua was a Grand Void Gate disciple, his public background was merely that of a lone cultivator—with no family to rely on.

The Golden Sword Sect people might not hesitate.

Cheng Mo and the others nodded solemnly.

…

Inside the small forest, Mo Hua still crouched atop the big tree, peering down stealthily.

Night fell. The sun set behind Luoshan, its glow fading; the forest grew dimmer.

With Cheng Mo's group gone, only the "Young Master Jin" and his band of "cronies" remained—alongside the captured Guojialong.

The Young Master Jin kicked Guojialong over, then stepped on his chest, his gaze cold.

"Wretched beast, you've amassed countless sins—do you know your end has come?"

Guojialong spat blood. "Useless sect trash, hypocritical beasts—dare you bully your own grandfather?"

The Young Master Jin pressed down harder. Guojialong groaned, swallowing the rest of his curses.

The other Golden Sword Sect disciples all looked furious.

"Young Master, no need to waste words with this beast. Crush his throat, break his meridians, and dump him at Dao Ting Si for the reward."

"How dare he insult the Golden Sword Sect? Does he not know the meaning of 'death'?"

The Young Master Jin kicked Guojialong again. "Wretched beast! Speak! Where are your accomplices?"

Guojialong spat blood—but said nothing.

The Young Master Jin frowned and ordered the disciples: "Scatter and search. See if there are any accomplices nearby."

"Yes, Young Master!"

The others obeyed, forming groups of two or three, gradually spreading out into the forest.

The forest fell silent—only the haughty Young Master Jin and the battered Guojialong remained.

A faint night mist spread, enveloping the woods.

The Young Master Jin's gloomy gaze swept the empty forest; his spiritual sense scanned the area several times before finally lifting his foot from Guojialong's chest and casually tossing him a pale red pill.

"Ate it."

The River Dragon took the pill and swallowed it; his complexion improved instantly.

Mo Hua, hidden in the tree, paused in surprise, softly murmuring, "Oh~"

"These two... actually know each other..."

Young Master Jin, watching the River Dragon's disheveled state, frowned and said, "What a waste!"

The River Dragon opened his mouth to say something.

Young Master Jin said, "Wait."

He casually pulled out two array flags, flicked his sleeve, and drove them into the ground like throwing darts.

Spirit energy flowed along the flags; a faint, unremarkable white barrier rose, enveloping Young Master Jin and the River Dragon.

Soundproof array?

Mo Hua blinked, muttering to himself:

"Quite cautious..."

But playing such petty tricks before me was like showing off swordplay before Guan Yu.

He swept his spiritual sense across it, performed a subtle calculation, and immediately found the gaps in the array's spirit flow, exposing its flaws.

His powerful, hidden spiritual sense pierced through the soundproof barrier in an instant.

Yet the River Dragon and the other remained utterly unaware.

They were speaking their "secret" words.

"... Waste!"

"... It's not that I'm incompetent—it's just those brats were too strange..."

"Net, array... everything..."

"I let my guard down, got caught in the net, dragged ashore, then pulled into the woods and ambushed by those brats..."

"It wasn't carelessness on my part—it's just their methods were too Zhou Mi."

The River Dragon said, "I suspect someone ordered this—someone hiding in the shadows, plotting secretly, vile and treacherous, ruthless and cunning..."

"Enough!" Young Master Jin sneered. "Failed? Admit it. Don't make excuses—you're not a greenhorn."

Young Master Jin's face darkened. "If you truly messed things up, do you think the 'Young Masters' will listen to your explanations?"

Mo Hua froze.

Young Masters...?

There are more Young Masters?

And plural?

Is this Young Master Jin not the real one?

Upon hearing the words "Young Masters," the River Dragon turned pale, his eyes filled with terror.

"I... I was careless, slipped up, fell for those brats' tricks, nearly ruined the Young Masters' plans."

"I'm stupid..."

The River Dragon spoke, trembling with fear.

Young Master Jin finally nodded in satisfaction, but after a moment, he frowned again. "How did those sect brats find you?"

The River Dragon's face twisted in bitterness. "I don't know..."

He cultivated the White Wave Scripture; in water, he moved freely, stirred up storms, and did as he pleased.

Yet today, inexplicably, someone tracked him down, set an ambush, and dragged him straight out of the river.

As the River Dragon recalled the events in detail, his heart sank. "Could it be... someone's been watching me?"

Young Master Jin's expression was grim too, but after a moment's thought, he shook his head.

"Unlikely..."

"If someone truly wanted you, they wouldn't send brats to catch you."

"More likely, they took a sect bounty to earn merit points... but if they caught you, these brats have some skill."

Young Master Jin sneered, then coldly glanced at the River Dragon and scolded:

"I told you to keep a low profile—just kill one person. Why were your hands so sloppy you got caught by Dao Ting Si?"

"If not for that, how would those sect brats have targeted you?"

The River Dragon sighed. "I didn't want to. I only meant to sink their boat, drag them into the water, and let the water demons eat them..."

"But that Lin fellow carried a Water-Repelling Pearl—none of the water demons could kill him. I had no choice but to use the Three Shark Hooks to slit his throat, leaving traces that Dao Ting Si found..."

Mo Hua's expression shifted.

A "Lin"?

Among the six, the dead young master was named "Lin"?

Mo Hua silently noted the surname, then listened as Young Master Jin continued:

"The heat's on right now. I'll send you to Dao Yu. You'll 'die' inside—Dao Ting Si will close the case, seal your Juan Sect file. When things calm down, you'll change your face and name, and keep serving the 'Young Masters'..."

The River Dragon said, "Thank you, Young Master Jin, but..."

Young Master Jin growled, "Speak."

The River Dragon lowered his voice, his face uneasy:

"Why has the situation turned so bad lately?"

"Those sworn brothers—one by one—are either captured, killed, or hiding like stray dogs..."

"Now, the only ones still breathing and able to operate on the streets, you could count on two hands..."

"Even the Venerable... one step from Jin Dan, terrifying in his arts—he too..."

The River Dragon's eyes filled with terror, his body trembling uncontrollably.

Young Master Jin's expression turned solemn, his gaze sharp as he said:

"Mr. Tu suspects we've been manipulated…"

"For all these years, nothing ever went wrong, and not a whisper leaked out—but in this short year and change, one blood oath member after another has been wiped out, more than half gone…"

"... They all left traces, sloppy hands, and the Dao Ting Si caught on, then issued bounties for sect disciples to capture them in exchange for merit."

"Even stranger: the Dao Ting Si posts the rewards, but those who take them are ordinary sect disciples—they likely know nothing at all."

"And on the surface, there's no sign of anything amiss."

Young Master Jin's tone grew cold:

"Therefore, I suspect… there must be an invisible, enormous 'black hand' pulling the strings behind all this…"

Young Master Jin spoke with finality.

Mo Hua, perched in the tree, couldn't help glancing down at his own pale, delicate hands, blinking in confusion.

The River Dragon's face was pale, his voice hoarse as he asked:

"Can we not find out who this 'mastermind' is?"

Young Master Jin's gaze sharpened slightly. "Mr. Tu didn't say, but I already have a suspect…"

Mo Hua, curious, perked up his ears.

Young Master Jin said gravely: "This person is very likely the Dao Ting Si's Diansi…"

Young Master Jin paused, his eyes piercing:

"... Gu Changhuai!"

Mo Hua froze.

Young Master Jin continued: "The Gu family has served in the Dao Ting Si for generations, rigid and old-fashioned, not aligned with us."

"This Gu Changhuai is the Gu family's direct heir, a Jin Dan cultivator, reclusive, moody, and impossible to read."

"His cultivation and arts are top-tier—his strength cannot be underestimated."

"He even possesses forbidden techniques—legend says the Fire Sovereign, invincible among second-grade prefecture Jin Dans, fell to Gu Changhuai's hands!"

Young Master Jin's gaze burned with hatred and wariness.

"Even if Gu Changhuai isn't the mastermind himself, he's certainly a crucial 'pawn' in the hands of whoever is behind it all!"

"This man is our mortal enemy!"

The River Dragon believed him, nodding solemnly.

Mo Hua didn't know what to say…

Young Master Jin glanced at the River Dragon and said coolly:

"Remember my words—these days, you must act with extreme caution."

"Times have changed; we can't leave any traces. If you bring fire upon yourself and drag the Young Masters into it, ruin everything—you won't even be allowed to die easily."

The River Dragon clenched his lips and nodded, trembling.

Young Master Jin wasn't satisfied—he added:

"And… keep your mouth shut."

"No matter who asks, you say nothing. If they press you hard, just…"

Young Master Jin extended two fingers, slashing across his own throat, signaling the River Dragon.

The River Dragon turned deathly pale.

Young Master Jin patted his shoulder and said:

"Death of the flesh isn't true death. You've seen things—you should understand…"

The River Dragon's eyes filled with dread; he remained silent.

Young Master Jin nodded in satisfaction. "Remember what I said…"

Movement stirred beyond the woods—someone was approaching.

Young Master Jin flicked out two sword qi, shattering the two soundproofing array flags, then kicked the River Dragon to the ground.

The River Dragon fell, feigning unconsciousness.

After a while, the Duanjin Sect disciples sent to search returned, bowing respectfully:

"Young Master, there's no trace of this beast's accomplices nearby."

Young Master Jin's face darkened; after a moment, he sighed. "Enough. Capturing this one is enough. Send two men to escort this 'River Dragon' to the Dao Ting Si—split the reward evenly."

All the Duanjin Sect disciples brightened, bowing:

"Thank you, Young Master!"

Young Master Jin gave a slight nod, cast one last contemptuous glance at the River Dragon, then walked off haughtily.

The other disciples followed him, leaving only two to drag the "unconscious" River Dragon toward the Dao Ting Si.

Soon after, the small grove emptied, silence settling over all.

Mo Hua, who had been hidden all along, leapt down from the great tree, slipping away unseen and unheard.

He'd planned to head straight to the ferry to meet Cheng Mo and the others—but no sooner had he left the grove than he ran into Cheng Mo and his group.

Cheng Mo and the other three were hidden in the grass, eyes fixed intently on the grove—as if waiting for him.

Mo Hua's heart warmed slightly, and he revealed himself.

Cheng Mo and the others were startled, all asking at once:

"Mo Hua, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Mo Hua said.

"I'm fine," Mo Hua said.

Everyone exhaled in relief, then Cheng Mo asked, "Are we going back to the sect now?"

His expression was somewhat disheartened; Sister Situ and the others also looked gloomy.

The people were taken, and the original 120 merit points per person were gone.

Mo Hua shook his head and said, "Not yet—we can't have come all this way for nothing."

Everyone froze, turning to look at Mo Hua.

Mo Hua declared firmly, "A gentleman seeks revenge before nightfall—they dared rob us, so we'll rob them right now!"

(End of Chapter)