Chapter 255: The Interrogation from Old Jiang (Part One)

"This... is killing intent?!"

The black-clad man’s expression froze instantly, his pupils shrinking to needle points.

Before shock or fear could reach him, Jiang Ye’s fist arrived.

Boom—

That withered fist, faintly glowing golden, slammed into the black-clad man’s chest like a falling meteor.

He instinctively tried to sidestep, but his body froze for a fatal instant beneath the weight of killing intent.

That instant.

Jiang Ye’s fist struck his chest.

The protective true qi barrier shattered like paper.

Then—

Crack...

Amidst the grating sound of snapping bones, the black-clad man’s chest caved inward.

The force hurled him backward over ten meters, slamming him hard against the cave wall, leaving a deep human-shaped dent in the stone.

"Cough... cough..."

The black-clad man slid down the wall and collapsed among the rubble, coughing violently, each spasm spewing dark red froth mixed with fragments of internal organs from his lips.

Before he could draw another breath, Jiang Ye’s figure appeared soundlessly before him like a ghost, and another kick landed squarely on his abdomen.

"Ugh..."

Struck again, the black-clad man curled up like a shrimp with its tail stepped on, trembling uncontrollably, struggling to force out a few hoarse words:

"Don't... don't hit me..."

"I... I surrender..."

He had wanted to beg for mercy the moment the first punch landed.

But that punch’s force was too terrifying—it left him unable to even catch his breath.

This second kick made him feel as if all his organs had shifted out of place.

If he didn’t surrender now, the next blow might kill him.

Seeing the black-clad man surrender outright, Jiang Ye’s eyes flickered with something strange.

Couldn’t even withstand two strikes?

Such a cowardly demon lord is rare indeed...

With this little backbone, he’s nothing compared to the original “Six Demons of Yunling.”

But seeing how the black-clad man was writhing in agony, Jiang Ye didn’t press further.

He had sensed it—the man was a True Qi cultivator, but extremely fragile.

Jiang Ye bent down and carefully felt the black-clad man’s pale face.

Time to reveal the truth.

He wanted to see what the infamous flower-snatcher truly looked like.

Soon, he felt slight irregular wrinkles along the man’s cheekbones and pressed his fingertips lightly.

The delicate mask was torn clean off.

The next instant.

Jiang Ye froze, his aged pupils locking rigidly in place.

Because the face beneath the mask...

Was Yin Qingqing—the woman he’d seen in the Tian Shu Hall?!

The personal disciple of the Danling Peak’s peak master, the “kind-hearted, beautiful” Sister Yin who healed the injured without charge.

The dream woman of every male disciple in the Upper Sect—was she the flower-snatcher?

Jiang Ye’s first reaction: impossible.

Not because her status was extraordinary.

But because she was a woman.

How could a woman be a flower-snatcher?

What would she even use to pick them...

"Could this also be a false face? The flower-snatcher disguised himself as Yin Qingqing..."

Jiang Ye’s mind flashed this thought, and he reached out again, meticulously tracing every inch of Yin Qingqing’s face.

From forehead to cheekbones, from nose to jawline—he probed every patch of skin, even the areas behind the ears where masks were most often hidden.

After minutes of searching, he found no trace of disguise whatsoever.

This face was almost certainly real.

Jiang Ye slowly withdrew his hand, disbelief etched on his face, then lowered his hand further.

"Mmm..."

The helpless black-clad man let out a faint, barely audible whimper.

Jiang Ye snatched his hand back immediately, his brow tightening further.

Still unwilling to accept it, he lifted the black-clad man’s thigh and ignited twin crimson-gold flames in his eyes.

The full truth lay bare before him.

Moments later.

Jiang Ye’s breathing grew slightly heavier, and he quickly shut off the Fire Eyes.

This time, he was certain.

The black-clad man was unquestionably a woman...

And her barrier was still intact...

She was still a virgin.

Meaning—the black-clad man’s true identity was Yin Qingqing.

Jiang Ye slowly stood up, staring at the limp, gasping Yin Qingqing slumped beneath the cave wall, his mind racing.

This woman was shrouded in too many mysteries.

How could a woman possibly be the flower-snatcher?

And how, if she targeted men, had she remained a virgin?

More crucially—she knew insect sorcery.

That was a secret art unique to the Miaozhou Cultivation Sect.

How had it ended up in the hands of a Danling Peak disciple from the Upper Sect in Linzhou?

For a moment, Jiang Ye felt this seemingly gentle, harmless woman was far more enigmatic than he’d imagined.

He wasn’t in a hurry to interrogate her—he simply stood quietly, arms folded, looking down at her.

After a long while.

Yin Qingqing finally regained her senses.

She struggled to lean her back against the cave wall; each movement sent sharp pain through her sunken chest, yet on her paper-white face, she forced a wan smile and sighed:

"This is fate..."

"A senior official of the Upper Sect... is actually from the Seven Kill Cult."

Her insect sorcery was devastating against True Qi cultivators—except against killing intent.

Because killing intent shatters all arts.

And yet, today she’d run straight into it.

Jiang Ye smiled faintly:

"Using killing intent doesn’t mean I’m from the Seven Kill Cult."

"But Sister Yin—you, personal disciple of the Danling Peak’s master, are secretly the infamous flower-snatcher."

"That’s the real shock."

Yin Qingqing tilted her head, gasping for breath, her naturally gentle face still bearing two faint dimples as she smirked:

"Brother Jiang, even if you drag me back to the Upper Sect, no one will believe I’m the flower-snatcher."

Jiang Ye nodded slightly.

True...

With Yin Qingqing’s status in the Upper Sect, who would believe she was the infamous flower-snatcher?

If he brought her back, he wouldn’t get the twenty-thousand contribution points—he’d likely get himself into trouble first.

But now that she was in his hands...

He had plenty of ways to make her pay.

Jiang Ye stepped forward, speaking calmly:

"Chit-chat is over."

"From now on, I ask one question—you answer one."

"If you refuse to cooperate, you know what my methods are."

From Yin Qingqing’s earlier reaction, he knew this woman was extremely sensitive to pain—her bones were soft; a little physical pressure would break her.

As expected, the moment she heard the word “methods,” Yin Qingqing shuddered violently, raising both hands in surrender, her pale face twisting into a pitiful, helpless smile:

"Brother Jiang, ask anything—you’ll get the full truth from me."

"Just stop moving, it really hurts..."

Jiang Ye asked first the question that mattered most to him: "How did a woman like you pick flowers?"