Chapter 81: The Crimson Snake Woman, Ghost Mask Dao (Request Follows, Bonus Chapters Available)

“Did something happen to the Zhu family?!”

Li Rui’s heart jolted.

Among the city’s major families, the Zhu family was among the top tier, with three or four ranked household martial instructors guarding their estate—definitely not an easy target.

If the Ghost Ming Sect chose to strike the Zhu family, they’ve only themselves to blame.

“Good luck to them.”

Li Rui had not the slightest intention of visiting the Zhu family.

He had been their stable hand.

The favor was repaid the moment he gained his freedom, even though Zhu Ping later tried to mend ties with him.

But between them, it was purely a business relationship.

Business is business.

Would you sincerely visit a business partner who’s fallen on hard times?

Obviously not.

Even if he went, it would be only after the storm had passed.

Going now would be foolish—it might draw fire onto himself and make him a target of the Ghost Ming Sect.

In the end, their bond simply wasn’t that deep.

Even if he helped, the Zhu family might not be grateful—it’d be effort wasted.

Outside the city, deep in the mountains, a ruined temple.

A fat, burly man cursed:

“Damn it, do they really think the Ghost Ming Sect is easy to bully?”

“Today, I’ll reclaim every inch of ground we lost!”

“Last night was just the beginning.”

Ghost Mask Dao, Fu Yanzhuo grinned widely, feeling a surge of satisfaction, then glanced at the woman beside him, a flicker of revulsion in his eyes:

“You bitch, can’t you stop messing with those disgusting things in front of me?”

A slender woman, her face scarred by a horrific wound that made her appearance grotesquely unnatural and deeply unsettling, moved gently, caressing a human skin as if it were silk.

Precisely, a face’s skin.

These several skins still bore blood—clearly freshly peeled from human faces.

“You brutes simply can’t appreciate beauty.”

The woman’s soft, sweet voice drifted out.

Fu Yanzhuo couldn’t suppress a shiver.

Beauty?

Beauty my ass!

The Ghost Ming Sect had plenty of monsters, and he knew he wasn’t a good man either—he’d committed atrocities too numerous to record, and even infants would stop crying at his name.

But compared to this woman, he felt like a saint.

His blade slid half an inch from its sheath, then slid back.

He truly wanted to slash her.

If not for this woman, Sun Xuan, being a disciple of the Ten Thousand Ghosts Mother, an eighth-rank who dared be this repulsive—he’d have cut her down long ago.

“This disturbance was too big. You and I should lie low for a while.”

“The Tangs and the Penglis aren’t to be trifled with.”

Last night, he crippled one of the Blood Tiger Gang’s vice-chiefs and clashed with Peng Hu.

This woman was even worse.

She infiltrated the Zhu family using disguise, slaughtered over ten of them—if Tang Sheng hadn’t arrived, the Zhu family would’ve been wiped out entirely.

Sun Bixuan carefully selected a face-skin.

Last night, Tang Sheng destroyed several of her most cherished human skins with a single palm strike—this grudge must be repaid.

Her gaze grew cold.

“Tang Sheng. Heaven’s Alliance.”

The Blood Tiger Gang’s vice-chief was ambushed on the road—meaning the branch headquarters was safe.

Evening fell.

Li Rui practiced martial arts in the courtyard, movements slow and deliberate, like an old man in a park doing Taiji.

He hadn’t left the estate all day.

Dinner had been eaten.

Wang Zhao and Yang Yong had each returned to their rooms in the back courtyard.

The estate’s size was a drawback.

There were only three people in the household, yet Li Rui had to pass through three doors just to find them.

Originally, the master should reside deepest inside.

The front courtyard housed the guards.

But given Li Rui’s status, neither Yang Yong nor Wang Zhao could serve as guards—it made no sense.

Li Rui living in the front courtyard saved him time commuting.

They’d all been lowborn—no aristocratic pretensions.

Suddenly!

A knock came at the gate.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

When Li Rui opened the door, he saw a young man in Heaven’s Alliance uniform standing with a girl of about sixteen or seventeen.

“Master Li, this girl claims to be from the Zhu family, says she knows you—I brought her.”

The young man spoke with flattery.

Li Rui was known throughout the Qinghe branch.

A Tangyi Hall chief wouldn’t command such respect—it was mainly his “11” badge and the power he’d displayed on the fighting arena.

Heaven’s Alliance revered strength.

Whoever had the strongest fists earned admiration.

Li Rui stared at the girl.

He sighed inwardly.

This girl was Zhu family’s fifth daughter—he’d seen her at birth, had watched her grow up.

“I do know her. Thank you, young brother.”

The young disciple had planned to punish her if she was a fraud, but didn’t expect she truly knew Elder Li.

He gained a favor for free.

“Master Li, I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

The young disciple had good instincts.

He delivered her and immediately turned to run off.

Only Li Rui and Zhu Ling remained at the gate.

“Little Ling, what do you need from me?”

Zhu Ling’s face still bore tear tracks, exhausted—she clearly hadn’t slept all night.

Of course.

Who could sleep after what happened last night?

“Uncle Li, our home was raided last night—my eldest brother, second brother, and Lady Da all died, Father was severely injured and still unconscious. I don’t know who else to turn to. Uncle Li, please, for the sake of our past bond, help our family.”

Zhu Ling, voice trembling with sobs, dropped to her knees.

In ancient times, though men were told their knees held gold, Zhu Ling was a noblewoman, raised in luxury—her kneeling before Li Rui was more than enough sincerity.

Li Rui remained unmoved, staring thoughtfully at Zhu Ling’s chest.

Zhu Ling’s face flushed crimson.

“If Uncle Li will help, I’ll give you anything.”

The word “anything” hadn’t even finished.

Her eyes shut, her body went limp, collapsing against Li Rui.

She must have been worn out from the night’s ordeal.

The tension in her nerves finally snapped.

Li Rui raised his hand to catch her.

Suddenly!

Zhu Ling’s eyes flew open—but now, the innocence of a girl was gone.

Cunning. Brutal. Cruel.

A flash of cold light.

In her hand, a sharp dagger had appeared, thrusting toward Li Rui’s waist.

But when she saw the abnormality in Li Rui’s palm,

Her pupils shrank sharply—she couldn’t believe it:

"Knife qi!"

Li Rui’s face showed no sign of panic; around his raised palm, air seemed to steam, the space subtly warping.

Forming a knife with the palm!

Zhu Ling: "!!!!"

"Zhu Ling" was dead.

For killing, Li Rui was long accustomed.

He was just headachy.

How could he perfectly destroy the body and erase all traces?

Li Rui crouched down.

A dense golden light flickered on "Zhu Ling"’s chest—the manifestation of spiritual matter—while other spots across the body also showed traces of spiritual matter.

He reached out and groped over "Zhu Ling"’s face.

He pulled.

A beautiful yet grotesque face appeared before him.

First, thank you, discerning readers, for liking this book. The writing process has been rocky, but thanks to your support, I’ve made it this far. Monday’s follow-up reads are vital for this novel—I hope you’ll take a moment to scroll to the end. I’ll also add an extra chapter at noon; my sincerity is already offered. The rest is up to you!

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(End of chapter)