Chapter 60: Both Laughed Happily

Xiao Yu pushed open the wooden door and stepped out of the wine cellar into the vast, thick fog. Guan Zhong gradually regained his composure and hesitated, “Master, it’s chaos outside right now—even if we found the Red Smoke Steed, we couldn’t escape!”

“Take it one step at a time. With the Red Smoke Steed beside us, the moment an opportunity arises, we’ll break free from this cage—no mortal or immortal could catch us.”

“I won’t sit here and wait to die.”

“This rotten wine cellar will never be the grave of Guan Huchen!”

Huchen closed his eyes again, pouring all his spirit into guarding the last thread of life in his chest.

Guan Zhong fell silent for a moment, then whispered, “Since Master is so gravely wounded yet still refuses to give up, still possesses the will to fight to the death, why not carry the Nine-Turn Bone-Transformation Pill with you?”

Huchen spoke weakly, “If we don’t use the Bone-Transformation Pill, will that bunch of bastards let us go? Besides, if Xiao Yu swallows it, it’s not wasted. The more extraordinary she becomes, the greater her chance of catching the Emperor’s eye.”

Just as Xiao Yu once advised me to abandon the Bone-Transformation Pill: when her great future in Xianyang becomes reality, what divine medicine or precious elixir could ‘Lord Guan’ possibly lack?”

As he said this, he smiled proudly.

Guan Zhong froze. “You don’t know? The Emperor is dead. We can’t send Miss Xiao Yu to Xianyang anymore.”

Only after speaking did he realize: before Lei Yuanzi had shouted “The Emperor is dead,” Huchen had already slipped into near-death unconsciousness.

He’d only just been roused when Li Shangfu sliced open a layer of skin on his neck.

“What?” Huchen, on the brink of death, sat bolt upright, eyes blazing red, shouting fiercely: “The Emperor is dead? How? When—pfft~~~”

Before he finished speaking, his wounds burst open, spewing a mouthful of blood. His final breath left him.

“Master! Master, don’t die! Waaahhh!” Guan Zhong froze for an instant, then threw himself onto Huchen’s body, wailing loudly, slapping his own already swollen face as he cried, “Master, your humble servant is to blame! I’m a fool! I’ve doomed you...”

“Guan Huchen actually held on until now? I thought he’d been dead long ago.”

A cold, surprised voice suddenly appeared behind Guan Zhong.

Guan Zhong, lost in endless grief and self-reproach, kept sobbing, never turning around.

Hunter-Flag Immortal Kong Zan had merely uttered a remark out of surprise—he didn’t truly care whether Huchen lived or died.

His sharp gaze swept over the scattered corpses on the cellar floor, his expression growing grim.

Eight men total, all clad in full iron armor—elite cavalry of the Lu Ye Guard...

Even if he’d encountered them suddenly without activating his Flag Gate Escape, it would’ve taken him considerable effort.

After all, piercing armor is too hard, too exhausting.

Yet now they were all killed by a single sword thrust, their fatal wounds all exposed necks and faces... though even the back and sides of the neck had iron plating.

“It’s like a performance...” Kong Zan murmured.

Through the wounds and corpse positions, the Hunter-Flag Immortal roughly reconstructed the battle.

One word to describe it: fake!

Three words: too fake.

It was as if they’d cooperated with the swordsman in a play—everyone attacked him with ferocious moves, yet every technique had one purpose: to present every unprotected vital point directly to his blade, letting him stab at will.

But even a fool could see: no one would sacrifice their life to act in someone else’s play, turning themselves into a clumsy clown.

So, one word to describe it: divine!

Three words: the Divine Swordsman!

“Where is the Nine-Turn Bone-Transformation Pill?”

Kong Zan had already noticed the small porcelain bottle beside Huchen while observing the corpses.

The bottle was empty.

“Of course the Master swallowed it! We’re not fools—we knew someone was coming to steal the divine pill, so why hide it and wait for someone stronger to break in? Waaahhh, Master...”

Guan Zhong still didn’t turn, still weeping over Huchen’s corpse.

“Lying! Guan Huchen is dead—how could he have swallowed the Bone-Transformation Pill?” Kong Zan said coldly.

“If he hadn’t swallowed it, how could he have burst into blood? Waaahhh...”

Indeed, Huchen’s mouth spewing blood, his wounds splitting and soaking his cloak, his final wide-eyed stare—looked exactly like someone who’d taken a fierce, blood-burning medicine despite grave injuries.

Kong Zan’s mind grew unsettled. “Damn it! How could Guan Huchen be so stupid? With injuries this severe, barely clinging to life is already miraculous—why take the Bone-Transformation Pill now? Does he want to die faster?”

“Heh, you’ve been fooled. This old servant is loyal—and cunning.”

Zhou Lang, the Bo Yue Hermit, walked forward slowly, sneering: “The Nine-Turn Bone-Transformation Pill has divine power to rival heaven and earth because its ingredients are all essence of heaven and earth.”

Before opening the pill, its essence is tightly contained—plain in appearance, no scent leaks out.”

But if the pill’s essence cannot be digested and absorbed, vast quantities of herbal qi immediately spill out—filling the entire cellar with fragrance so potent it intoxicates.”

Yet now, there’s only bloodstink—not a trace of medicinal aroma.”

Kong Zan nodded in sudden understanding. “Correct. If Guan Huchen had no other choice, perhaps he’d be driven to gamble his life—but he had no need to—”

—because there’s still a “Divine Swordsman” here!

Before he finished speaking, he retreated rapidly, fleeing past the cellar door and vanishing into the fog.

“Damn!”

Zhou Lang cursed, his calm expression replaced by agitation, hurrying after him.

At last, Guan Zhong turned around, staggered to his feet, and ran toward the cave entrance, shouting desperately: “Come back! The divine pill was really swallowed! It’s useless now! The pill’s gone, gone!”

The world fell silent—only his own panting and sobs remained.

“Ahhhh~~~”

Xiao Yu, walking the “Ghost Path” beside Duan Yuhuan, suddenly stopped and cried out.

“What happened?” Duan the Old Ghost turned back, concerned.

Xiao Yu’s eyes filled with tears. “My adoptive father... he’s gone.”

Duan Yuhuan frowned. “Though General Guan was severely wounded, he seemed fine just now—could’ve held on for a long time. How did he die so suddenly? And how do you know? He’s far away in the wine cellar.”

Xiao Yu wiped her tears, voice thick with sobs: “Perhaps it’s the bond of blood between father and daughter—heart-to-heart resonance. The moment he died, I felt as if a huge piece of my soul had been torn out—emptied, hollow.”

—The newly upgraded Great Annihilation Dad had been rapidly deducing the “Yin Killing Immortal Tiger Technique,” when he suddenly stopped. The tiny figure of Huchen drawn in violet lines within her purple palace vanished.

Though this was her first experience of such a thing, she didn’t need to think hard to guess the reason: Huchen was dead.

Even Duan Yuhuan, a gentle, scholarly old ghost, now twisted his ghostly face: That’s your adoptive father! You’re a desert savage, he’s a Shu man—how could you share blood?

Yet he didn’t doubt Xiao Yu was faking. Bloodline might not be linked, but father-daughter heart connection? Totally normal. After all, the Guan family was known for filial piety and deep emotional bonds.

Hmm. That’s the way of the benevolent seeing benevolence, the wise seeing wisdom.

Duan Yuhuan himself was a filial son and a loving father.

When his own father died, he’d felt a sharp pain in his heart.

So he truly believed in filial piety and heavenly resonance.

“What now? Should we still approach the camp and call for General Guan’s thousand-li divine steed?” Duan Yuhuan asked.

Xiao Yu wiped her tears, wiping away her sorrow too—sigh. Performing before honest people was exhausting—physically, and morally.

“Even if my adoptive father is dead, Xiao Yu must fulfill his final wish—to return his remains home as soon as possible, so his spirit may rest in peace.”

Her voice was firm now, her watery eyes filled with resolve, her face radiating fearless determination.

Duan Yuhuan was deeply moved. His own eyes hardened, his tone decisive: “Good. Miss Xiao Yu, with such filial devotion, if heaven has any sense, it will protect you. I, Duan, will spare no effort—even die ten times over—”

Duan Yuhang leaned forward to peer carefully behind Xiao Yu, then said anxiously, “Miss Yu, hurry and go—someone’s coming this way.”

Duan Yuhuan peered behind Xiao Yu again, tense: “Miss Xiao Yu, hurry! Someone’s coming this way!”

Xiao Yu turned—but saw nothing.

Yet she trusted Duan. She immediately stepped forward, following him.

After two steps, she stopped. “Uncle Duan, who’s coming? Do you know?”

“Can’t make out details—only that he’s tall, terrifying, terrifying even to ghosts.”

Duan Yuhuan performed a “Ghost Turn Back,” then gasped again: “He hasn’t lost us—he’s still behind! Miss Xiao Yu, don’t stop—run!”

—Sigh. Can’t escape anymore. The one coming is almost certainly Hunter-Flag Immortal Kong Zan himself!

Xiao Yu had already realized: Li Qing and Wang Bao had passed through the fog and entered the wine cellar before her—not by luck.

Either their master possessed great divine power, predicting the Flag Gate Escape before it activated and giving them a countermeasure—

Or the Hunter-Flag Immortal noticed their odd behavior, deliberately letting them go find Guan Huchen.

Once Li Qing and Wang Bao obtained the Bone-Transformation Pill, he’d use the invisible blade he’d earlier used to ambush her to cleanly kill them... or even subtly manipulate the space around them, making them deliver the pill to him themselves.

Xiao Yu guessed the latter was far more likely.

Li Qing and Wang Bao’s master was a senior Fire Crow Army commander—he might have guessed the Hunter-Flag Immortal was hiding nearby after Lei Yuanzi appeared, but he’d never let Wang Bao and Li Qing leave.

Because the Flag Gate Escape didn’t just scramble space and direction—it unleashed invisible blades.

Even if you found the right direction, unless you’d immediately followed Old Duan into the Ghost Path, Xiao Yu herself might’ve been cut to pieces by endless invisible blades. How could Wang Bao and Li Qing—mere “miscellaneous troops”—evade them?

If the Hunter-Flag Immortal had manipulated events to use Wang Bao and Li Qing to retrieve the pill, after she killed Li Shangxian and the others, could he still sit back and wait?

He came. He came himself.

She’d expected it—but she still had one question: Didn’t he know the pill had already been swallowed?

“It’s my father!”

A thousand thoughts exploded like fireworks in an instant. Xiao Yu immediately wore an expression of hope and excitement, turning back toward the direction she’d come.

“Hey, Miss Xiao Yu, what are you doing?” Duan Yuhuan panicked. “Don’t go! The villain’s over there!”

“That’s not a villain. That’s my father.”

“Miss Xiao Yu, have you lost your mind? You already sensed General Guan’s death.”

“Even if he were alive, with his injuries, how could he walk so briskly?” Duan Yuhuan cried urgently.

“My father is dead—but his soul remains! Just like you, Uncle Duan—my father’s soul has come to find Xiao Yu.”

She whispered quickly, then shouted at the top of her lungs: “Father! Father! Father—is that you?”

“Of course it’s me,” Hunter-Flag Immortal Kong Zan smiled.

Xiao Yu smiled too, inside her heart.