Chapter 206: Keep the Trouble Away from Old Man Me

Deep night, a dark alley without lamps.

Two exquisitely beautiful figures stepped through the alley choked with sewage, utterly out of place.

He Lan, or rather, Number Nine,

occasionally turned her head to look back, her eyes filled with flickers of struggle and reluctance.

There, just barely visible, was a corner of Zui Xian Pavilion, its large red lanterns hung proudly in festivity.

As a charm slave, she had long learned to see through a man's heart—He Shan truly loved her.

"What?"

"You've been ridden by hundreds of men, and now you've fallen in love?"

Liu Jiaoniang's eyes brimmed with mockery.

"Master, your slave dares not."

Number Nine quickly turned her head, bowing it low until her chin touched her chest, daring not to speak another word.

"Dares not?"

Liu Jiaoniang sneered: "You're my creation. You should know I despise men—and I despise women who lose themselves for them."

Number Nine snapped her head up, eyes wide with terror, involuntarily stepping back half a pace.

Liu Jiaoniang advanced, her voice icy:

"Let me tell you plainly: the potion I gave you wasn't medicine—it was poison. Your lover has been dead for a long time."

"What?!"

Number Nine's eyes widened.

She stared at Liu Jiaoniang in disbelief—this was the first time she had looked her directly in the face: "You told me it wasn't poison."

"One stole a sacred treasure from our sect, the other dared to seduce my charm slave—both deserve to die!"

Number Nine's body went limp.

She nearly collapsed into the sewage, her eyes instantly dulled, whispering to herself:

"Did I… kill him?"

Seeing this, Liu Jiaoniang felt an unprovoked surge of rage.

Killing intent surged in her eyes.

Pfft!

A soft sound.

Number Nine seemed to lose all strength, slowly lowering her head to gaze at the arm piercing her chest, crimson blood oozing from her lips.

She gave a bitter smile.

"The debt I owe you—I'll repay it in my next life."

Liu Jiaoniang clearly heard her words, her brows furrowed, a sharp hum escaping her lips.

The arm plunged into Number Nine's chest was yanked out violently—her five viscera and six bowels destroyed in an instant; even a celestial immortal could not save her.

Her delicate body crashed to the ground, splashing a wide spray of sewage, the world before her turning pitch black.

She was dead.

Liu Jiaoniang cast a disgusted glance at Number Nine's corpse, then walked away without looking back, heading toward the city gate.

Zui Xian Pavilion.

The room was deathly silent. Li Rui slowly rose, straightening his disheveled clothes.

There was not a trace of poison.

He first checked He Shan's breath.

"Hmm, not dead."

Then he stepped onto the windowsill and leapt down from the tenth floor.

His feet lightly tapped the roof tiles, his figure swift as a kite hawk, agile and light.

Moments later,

he arrived at a narrow alley.

Before him lay the corpse of a woman, surrounded by rats, some parts already gnawed away.

"I gave you a chance."

Li Rui gazed coldly at He Lan's corpse.

Everything that happened today was a trap he deliberately set—to deceive Liu Jiaoniang, or rather, the Ghost Ming Sect.

He bore the Wisdom Eye.

Almost the moment he left He Shan's residence, the smoke had already triggered a warning.

He had been on guard from the start.

He Lan thought her secret meeting with Liu Jiaoniang went unnoticed—but everything had been seen by Li Rui.

Including her meeting with the Thousand-Faced Rakshasa.

The Thousand-Faced Rakshasa, Liu Jiaoniang, was not one of the hidden identities among the Twelve Blood Disciples. Li Rui had memorized the traits of all six hidden ones—and instantly recognized Liu Jiaoniang's identity. He also deduced that the Ghost Ming Sect had likely come for the Immortal Qi.

Others might not know of Immortal Qi, but the Ghost Ming Sect knew it well.

As long as the Immortal Qi remained unrecovered, they would never give up—the trouble would never end.

So Li Rui decided to return the Immortal Qi.

The Immortal Qi had already been absorbed—he could not retrieve it. But he could condense a trace of Immortal Qi from Immortal Xuan Qi. The substance Liu Jiaoniang took was precisely this condensed Immortal Xuan Qi, indistinguishable from true Immortal Qi—the Ghost Ming Sect would never detect the fraud.

Though condensing even a trace of Immortal Qi cost him immense effort, the Immortal Qi could be nurtured again over time.

He simply could not bear to be watched by the Ghost Ming Sect any longer.

Too much trouble.

As for the woman before him—

Li Rui had sensed the wine was poisoned while at Zui Xian Pavilion.

Asking He Lan to switch wines was an intentional hint.

Had He Lan truly switched to the wine he suggested, he might have found a way to save her life. But she never switched—and brought Liu Jiaoniang instead.

Li Rui could no longer save her.

He recalled rumors from the martial world—this woman was surely one of Liu Jiaoniang's charm slaves.

"Charm slave."

Though pitiable, he would not let compassion overwhelm him—he would not save someone who sought to kill him.

Li Rui lightly tapped his foot.

Then he returned the same way to Zui Xian Pavilion, resuming his act of poisoning.

The next morning,

when the owner of Zui Xian Pavilion discovered the anomaly in the room, he immediately reported it to the Anning Guard.

After treatment by the Anning Guard's divine physician,

the two poisoned men barely survived.

To make the act complete, Li Rui and He Shan's poisoning was real—otherwise, how could the Ghost Ming Sect believe it?

But the poison was not Liu Jiaoniang's—it was self-administered by Li Rui upon his return.

The toxicity was fierce, yet the dosage was precisely controlled.

It would not kill.

That same day,

He Lan's corpse was found in the alley.

He Shan stared at his wife's body, heartbroken, vowing to find the true killer.

Li Rui did not reveal the truth.

If He Shan learned that their past affection had all been a performance by He Lan, he might take his own life.

Better to live in suffering than to die—better to let hatred sustain He Shan's will to live.

Time heals all wounds. In just a few days,

He Shan went to Cao Wei, resigned from the military.

Before leaving, he specifically sought out Li Rui to say goodbye. According to He Shan, after leaving the Anning Guard, he would return to being a blade master and hunt down his wife's killer.

Li Rui did not persuade.

Advice was useless—like a heart demon, only the self could resolve it.

"Deep affection stirs bitter indifference."

Watching He Shan's retreating back,

Li Rui sighed.

"That's why—women only slow down your path to strength."

"Brother Li, don't you think it might be some lust-crazed flower thief who coveted He's wife's beauty?"

=9+book_bar

"I heard she was even more beautiful than the courtesan queen of the entertainment bureau."

"Possible."

"I think so too."

Li Rui lay on his bed, listening to the big-headed men chatter one after another, silently exasperated.

"Is this how you treat your patients?"

To the outside world.

He is still in critical condition from poisoning.

So Ning Zhongtian invited Wei Ming, Ge Hong, and Tan Hu to visit him.

They said little in comfort.

Their focus was entirely on the wife.

Wei Ming sighed deeply: "What a pity—I heard He Shan and his wife were deeply devoted, a perfect match, something to envy—but alas…"

Clearly.

Wei Ming was dreaming of ideal love.

Li Rui sneered inwardly.

A charm slave.

In his past life, she was a female spy—someone who had woken beside countless men, wearing green horns, always plotting to take your life.

Something to envy?

Even if he sensed He Lan might harbor deeper feelings for He Shan, the essence remained unchanged.

Women—what matter are they compared to martial cultivation?

In that case, a certain sword art called Biexie might have some merit—cutting off mortal roots entirely, eliminating such distractions, making one terrifyingly strong.

As they spoke.

Li Rui closed his eyes to rest.

More precisely, he observed the mist under his Wisdom Eye's view.

It had turned nearly pure white.

From that day until now, four full days had passed; even if Liu Jiaoniang walked slowly, she should have reached the Ghost Ming Sect's headquarters.

The mist had changed.

Which meant the Ghost Ming Sect now believed the Immortal Qi had been recovered.

Naturally, they would no longer send more agents to Qinghe.

"Finally, some peace."

Li Rui leaned back comfortably.

Now that he had the Immortal Qi and Great Dream Immortal Travel, aided by spirit pills, diligent cultivation alone would carry him to the fifth rank.

"Let troubles stay far from me."

For the Peacekeeping Guard, this was merely a minor incident.

No one died.

It drew no attention from powerful figures or major factions, barely stirring a ripple.

Except that a quiet man had vanished from the third floor of the Ding-shaped armory.

Everything seemed unchanged.

Li Rui heard from Lianghe that He Shan's house had soon been assigned to another officer—a Platoon Leader.

Completely unlike He Shan's nature.

That Platoon Leader was extremely popular, especially with women—nightly revelry, his concubines' birthdays nearly covered all twenty-four solar terms.

Still, Li Rui preferred the quiet man more.

Even if he lived this life again, he would do the same.

Some things were never meant to be complete from the start.

He Lan was a charm slave—her intentions were never pure the moment she approached He Shan; the tragedy was already sealed, unchangeable.

With the Ghost Ming Sect's threat gone.

And outwardly still a bedridden patient, Li Rui had more time to study his cultivation arts.

Late at night.

Li Rui lay on the bed, feigning sleep, but his consciousness had long been drawn by Great Dream Immortal Travel into another world.

In the dream.

He sat cross-legged atop a cloud shaped like a meditation cushion.

Since it was a dream, he had long mastered the most comfortable posture for enlightenment.

"The dragon lies hidden, neither attacking nor defending—only when attack and defense are seamless can one truly slay the enemy."

After the first technique of Six Dragon Slashes—Hidden Dragon, Do Not Use—was created,

Li Rui did not grow complacent or move on to create the second technique; instead, he spent immense time refining the first technique, Hidden Dragon, Do Not Use.

Until it reached his ideal state.

Six mediocre sword techniques are inferior to one.

Sword techniques aren't silver—they're not better the more you have.

Suddenly,

Li Rui leapt down from the cloud, clenched his right hand, and the Obstructing Blade, Concealed Edge, appeared in his grip.

Instantly, blades of light erupted.

Cloud masses, swept by the wind of his blade, began swirling around Li Rui, coalescing into a two-winged Ying Dragon, coiled atop the Cloud Platform.

Its head bowed, restrained yet unyielding, with no flaw to exploit.

Wasn't this the true essence of Hidden Dragon, Do Not Use?

"This is the feeling!"

His eyes flashed with brilliance.

Hidden Dragon, Do Not Use had finally reached his satisfaction.

Li Rui felt his thoughts flow clear—he shouted toward the mist before him:

"Come!"

(End of Chapter)