Chapter 111: The Purple Boss Appears!

"I’ve never smelled this scent before..."

Zheng Hui stared intently at Jiang Ye’s figure, her dark eyes filled with confusion. “Strange, so strange.”

“I’ll ask Elder Jiang later.”

After much hesitation, Zheng Hui decided to wait until fewer people were around, then quietly ask Jiang Ye.

Suddenly—

She caught a pungent stench of blood; her confused little face turned instantly pale.

“Brother, I smelled a strong scent of blood from that direction, and also a medicinal odor...”

Zheng Hui hurried over to Zheng Feng’s side, lowering her voice as she tightly gripped his sleeve.

“Huh?!”

At this, Zheng Feng’s expression changed slightly.

From his sister’s description, it was highly likely someone had fought over spiritual herbs.

In an instant, he secretly transmitted the news to Jiang Ye using true qi.

“Oh?!”

Jiang Ye’s eyes lit up.

They exchanged a glance, each seeing eagerness in the other’s eyes.

Whether it was the Sunfire Blossom and Golden Core seeds they had obtained, or the Heavenly Heart Ice Lotus that Liu Yiyi had ingested, none were ordinary spiritual herbs.

Especially that Heavenly Heart Ice Lotus—it was top-grade, nearly extinct.

Judging by this, every single herb in this ruin must not be missed.

“Go!”

In an instant, the two reached an unspoken agreement and nodded simultaneously.

Jiang Ye carefully placed the sleeping Liu Yiyi on a flat rock, then turned to Xie Tang and said, “Elder Xie, please watch over this girl for me. I have a small matter to attend to with Zheng Zhenchuan—I’ll be right back!”

“Of course. Elder Jiang, go without worry.”

Xie Tang nodded with a smile.

He wisely refrained from asking what Jiang Ye and Zheng Feng were going to do.

Zhu Ying, standing nearby, had just opened her mouth to ask—when Jiang Ye and Zheng Feng, with Zheng Hui in tow, vanished swiftly around the fork, leaving only a lingering afterimage.

“Brother, over there, over there!”

Under Zheng Hui’s guidance, Jiang Ye and Zheng Feng moved with blazing speed through the branching paths.

Zheng Hui’s nose was better than any guide; the thick scent of blood acted like an invisible thread, guiding the three through labyrinthine corridors.

Soon, a faint glow appeared ahead.

A cave emitting a soft radiance came into view.

“That’s it!”

All three’s eyes brightened; they accelerated instantly, darting into the cave like arrows.

The moment they stepped inside, Jiang Ye and Zheng Feng both froze slightly; Zheng Hui couldn’t help but gasp, instinctively shrinking behind Zheng Feng.

Inside the cave lay several corpses, scattered haphazardly, their deaths gruesome, blood still oozing and staining the ground a dark crimson.

All wore the tight-fitting uniforms of the Cold Sword Sect—some disemboweled, others with snapped necks, still others with caved-in chests, clearly crushed by powerful blows.

Beside the medicinal plot in the cave’s center stood an elderly man with white hair.

A grotesque scar ran across his face, like a centipede coiled on his cheek, twitching slightly with each breath, adding to his ferocious aura.

His hands were caked in blood as he held a small, green sapling no bigger than a palm, its leaves lush and vibrant, dripping with emerald life—even from afar, its potent vitality could be felt.

Clearly, the corpses on the ground were his handiwork.

The moment Zheng Feng saw the old man, his handsome, refined face twisted with rage, his eyes nearly blazing with fire.

He glared at that monstrous face, forcing out three words through clenched teeth:

“Bai Laosan!!!”

Indeed, the man before them was none other than Bai Laosan of the “Six Demons of Yunling.”

The very bandit Zheng Feng had longed to kill with his own hands.

Last time in Anxi County, this old devil had slipped from under his nose, shaming him—and it remained a thorn in his heart ever since.

“Oh? So this is Bai Laosan...”

Jiang Ye raised an eyebrow, a flicker of interest in his eyes.

The old man’s aura was merely at the peak of Qi Condensation—nothing compared to the two Golden Core cultivators before him.

But his attention was fixed entirely on the small sapling in Bai Laosan’s hand.

The vitality radiating from it was denser than any spiritual herb he’d ever seen—he couldn’t tell what treasure it was.

“Oh? If it isn’t Zheng Zhenchuan of Tianqing Sect!”

Surprisingly, Bai Laosan showed no panic upon seeing the two Golden Core cultivators; instead, he smirked at Zheng Feng, his grin dripping with provocation.

He calmly slipped the sapling into his robe, even took time to dust off his sleeves, before raising his head with a toothy smile. “Fancy meeting you again!”

“Bai Laosan! Today is your death day!”

Zheng Feng roared, his true qi surging violently, his aura skyrocketing to its peak.

He thrust out a palm—its rush of wind howled, warping the air with heat.

“Palm of the Pacifying Flame!”

He struck with lethal intent.

A torrent of crimson true qi erupted from his palm, coalescing midair into a massive handprint over a zhang long, fingers distinct, veins clear, radiating an aura of total annihilation as it slammed toward Bai Laosan.

“Tsk tsk. Still such a hothead, young man.”

Facing this furious blow, Bai Laosan merely shook his head with a smirk, his ferocious face showing no fear—not even a hint of evasion.

He simply stood there, smiling, as if the palm print capable of shattering stone had nothing to do with him.

In an instant, the giant fire palm struck him.

“Did I hit him?!”

Zheng Feng’s face was about to break into triumph.

The next moment—it froze.

The massive fire palm had passed clean through Bai Laosan’s body and slammed into the cave wall.

Chit-chit-chit...

The stone wall couldn’t withstand the heat; a palm-shaped crater, several inches deep, formed, its edges charred black, wisps of smoke curling up.

Yet Bai Laosan’s figure appeared several steps away, completely unharmed.

He still wore that smug smile, even took the time to brush nonexistent dust from his sleeve.

His every motion dripped with mockery, making Zheng Feng even angrier.

“This body technique...”

Jiang Ye’s interest surged; a sharp gleam flashed in his eyes.

No wonder Zheng Feng had let a Qi Condensation cultivator slip away before.

This old devil’s body technique had real merit.

“Damn it! He dodged again!”

Zheng Feng snarled, his true qi coiling again, desperate to chase and strike another blow.

“Hehe, Zheng Zhenchuan, Third Uncle’s got business today—can’t play with you little brat!”

Bai Laosan chuckled hoarsely, turned on his heel, and fled without hesitation.

His figure vanished like a wisp of smoke, erratic and elusive, covering dozens of feet in an instant.

“Think you can escape? Don’t dream it!”

Zheng Feng wouldn’t let him go—he sprinted after him.

Jiang Ye said nothing, carrying Zheng Hui close behind.

The three darted through the branching paths, swift as ghosts.

Bai Laosan’s body technique was uncanny—each turn came without warning, slippery as an eel.

But Qi Condensation was still Qi Condensation; against Zheng Hui’s razor-sharp sense of smell, every time he pulled ahead, the two would immediately re-lock onto him.

He panted heavily, face pale, yet could never shake off the two figures growing ever closer behind him.

“Damn it, why are they sticking so tight...”

Bai Laosan glanced back furtively; a ruthless glint flashed across his scarred face.

He’d pushed his speed to its limit—but the gap between Qi Condensation and Golden Core couldn’t be bridged by technique alone.

Being caught was only a matter of time.

“If only I knew where the boss was... otherwise, it’d be you two who’d be dead...”

He gritted his teeth in a low curse, eyes hardening with resolve.

“No choice—I’ll have to use that technique!”

Bai Laosan drew a deep breath, then bit hard on his tongue.

A burst of blood flooded his mouth; his face instantly withered, his gaze dimming.

But he didn’t dare delay—he tore off a strip of cloth from his robe and spat his tongue’s essence-blood onto it.

The next instant.

Bai Laosan's figure split eerily into two.

Two identical Bai Laosan fled down left and right forked paths, their running postures and panting sounds utterly identical.

“What?!”

“A body duplication technique?!”

At this sight, all three paused slightly, shock flashing across their faces.

This is a technique of a Hua Jing martial artist?

“Xiao Hui, can you tell which one is the real body?”

Zheng Feng and Jiang Ye both turned to Zheng Hui.

Zheng Hui strained to sniff, her small face turning red, but after a moment, she frowned and shook her head: “No, both sides carry his scent...”

“Elder Jiang, let’s each take one side!”

Zheng Feng decided instantly.

“Agreed!”

Jiang Ye gave a slight nod.

The two exchanged a glance and lunged forward simultaneously. Zheng Feng, with Zheng Hui, chased the left path; Jiang Ye alone vanished into the dark right fork.

“The one chasing is that old man...”

Bai Laosan, his face pale and weary, glanced back and saw the unfamiliar white-haired elder pursuing him; he secretly sighed in relief.

This old man never lifted a finger in the cave—he must be a fraud...

“I should easily shake him off...”

The moment this thought crossed Bai Laosan’s mind, he instinctively glanced back.

Behind him—empty. Not a soul in sight?!

“Where did he go?!”

Bai Laosan froze, his pace slowing half a step.

He was a master of body manipulation; in Yunling Prefecture, he ranked among the top for escape techniques.

Yet he never imagined one day his own evasion would be outmaneuvered.

A sense of dread rose from his core.

He instinctively tried to accelerate...

Behind him—a sharp, piercing rush of air exploded!

“When did this old bastard get behind me...”

As Bai Laosan’s heart lurched, he shifted his internal force, his body appearing three steps away in a grotesque twist.

“Hmph, trying to ambush me? Dream on...”

The thought had barely formed in his mind.

Another sharp rush of air came from behind him.

“My evasion was seen through?! How is this possible...”

Bai Laosan’s face turned pale with horror, his eyes filled with disbelief.

No time to think—he pushed every ounce of strength to dodge.

But it was too late!

Roar—!!!

A bone-chilling tiger’s roar shattered the narrow tunnel.

Bai Laosan felt searing pain in his chest; he looked down to see a withered fist piercing clean through his torso.

The overwhelming force hurled him backward, slamming him hard against the cave wall with a dull, heavy crash.

“How... how did you see through my evasion...”

As he neared death, he struggled to lift his head, his scarred face twisted with shock and confusion.

He did not beg. He did not even glance at his wound—only stared fixedly at Jiang Ye, desperate for one answer.

Jiang Ye walked forward slowly, his aged eyes glowing with slow-rising crimson-gold flames, his pupils glowing like twin suns.

He did not answer Bai Laosan’s question, only looked down at him as one would at a dying ant.

Clearly, he had no intention of letting him die with understanding.

At that moment—

“Elder Jiang, could you grant me a favor and spare this subordinate of mine?”

A muffled, indistinct voice drifted from the shadows.

Jiang Ye halted, turning toward the sound.

From the deep shadows of the cave, a figure clad in purple robes slowly emerged.