Chapter 558: Releasing the Tiger Back to the Mountain

West Hong, Lady Yushan.

In the vast treasure hall, all the maids and guards withdrew.

They rarely saw the Dragon Consort act with her own hands, and to have such a bone-chilling, genuine killing intent radiating out — for a purple-maned white dragon, this was an exceedingly rare display, proof that the other party was truly furious.

"Stop."

Senior Zi Xian no longer referred to herself as ben-gong. Beneath the dragon claw covered in snow-white scales, An Tingfeng had already revealed his tiger head, and that savage, fierce skull was slowly being deformed within the sharp dragon claw.

She could see how dire the situation was on the other side.

Otherwise, this fierce tiger wouldn't have kept feeding his essence back to his clansmen.

From this, one could deduce quite a lot.

Namely, that there should be another sect master present beside Shen Yi, but most likely not Ji Jingxi — otherwise, with her equally Heaven-realm cultivation, even if this tiger sent out every drop of his essence blood, it wouldn't have amounted to anything.

Precisely because of this, Senior Zi Xian grew all the more anxious.

If An Tingfeng truly had his way, and two Nanhong Qizi Sect masters fell on her own territory all at once… how could she ever face Jingxi again?

"I told you to stop!"

In the low rebuke, Senior Zi Xian suddenly exerted force. A muffled crack rang out — fine, dense cracks instantly appeared on An Tingfeng's skull, and scarlet blood gushed forth, dyeing the white fur and black stripes on his face red.

"Heh… heh…"

Through the gaps between the dragon claws, An Tingfeng revealed that split-open great maw, letting out a strange, shrill laugh.

So it turned out that even a great demon comparable to the Heaven realm, one who had weathered a hundred-thousand-year tribulation of slaughter, once she had something to care about, became so weak — weak enough that despite possessing a realm, anyone could see at a glance what she feared.

The secret art had already been activated. Once he died, all his cultivation would be transferred to the elders of his clan.

This woman simply didn't dare gamble. She still held onto the hope that the people of the Nanhong Qizi Sect could keep their lives, and so was unwilling to add any pressure to that side.

On the contrary, the current him had nothing left to lose.

An Yi… Papa's coming to find you.

An Tingfeng bared two fangs in a vicious grin: "Dragon Consort, once this matter is settled and my daughter returns, considering those soul-sustaining treasures, Tingfeng will still work for you as before."

"You still want to live?" Senior Zi Xian's eyes narrowed slightly; she nearly laughed from sheer fury.

If something happened to the Nanhong Qizi Sect, did this fierce tiger really think he could walk out of this great hall in one piece? Probably no force in all of West Hong had ever imagined that the Eastern Dragon King — rumored to have been stabbed in the back by Xuan Qing — actually harbored a deep debt of guilt toward the Nanhong Qizi Sect.

For this reason, Father King had even forced himself to swallow his disgust, donned Princess Ziling's tiger skin, made that immortal pay no more attention to Nanhong, and at the same time intimidated the other forces, preserving the remaining six sects.

Even if slaying this Haoyue Shuanghu clan chief would make those hard-won allied forces feel uneasy and affect the greater scheme, Father King absolutely would not reproach her in the slightest.

"If you wish to act, best do it now. Once matters on that side conclude… Tingfeng certainly cannot prevail against the Dragon Consort, but having temporarily stepped into Heaven-realm cultivation, preserving my life is still no problem."

Clearly held by the skull, An Tingfeng's smile faded, yet he appeared utterly calm and composed.

"…"

Taking in his expression, and especially feeling that the aura on this fierce tiger was still diminishing, an unprecedented stifling frustration welled up in Senior Zi Xian's heart.

She closed her eyes; the dragon claws that had been steady as a boulder began to tremble with rage.

An Tingfeng's deliberately calm laughter grated on her ears.

Since coming to West Hong, this was the first time Senior Zi Xian had suffered a setback in this backwater place. She drew a deep breath, opened her eyes, and cast her gaze elsewhere: "Everything can be discussed…"

Before the words had fallen.

Senior Zi Xian suddenly noticed that the tiger in her grasp was trembling even more violently than she was.

She shifted her gaze back with a trace of surprise.

Only to find that An Tingfeng had abruptly stopped laughing. Beneath the fur soaked scarlet, those once sharp eyes had become somewhat dazed and unfocused.

He stared blankly into the void, his aura rapidly recovering.

In an instant, An Tingfeng suddenly clenched both fists, desperately trying to channel every ounce of his foundation toward the other side again — yet no matter how he struggled, not the slightest effect took hold.

His aura, beyond his control, still recovered to its peak state.

"How could this be—"

A thick panic surged across An Tingfeng's face; clearly, events had slipped beyond his grasp.

Through the gaps between the dragon claw's fingers, he stared fixedly at Senior Zi Xian, the composure gone from his voice: "Dragon Consort, Dragon Consort! You just said discuss…"

"Discuss what?"

Senior Zi Xian raised an eyebrow and finally loosened her grip — only to see this tiger demon, whose realm faintly surpassed the peak of Earth realm, now staggering backward, his steps unsteady.

She immediately understood: "Did I say that?"

An Tingfeng didn't flee; instead, he hurriedly stepped back to block her path, anxiously saying: "It is Tingfeng who wishes to discuss with the Dragon Consort. Just return my daughter to me, and I will fight for the Dragon Consort, willing to die ten thousand deaths without regret!"

Watching this bizarre scene, the stifling frustration in Senior Zi Xian's heart vanished entirely, replaced by considerable curiosity.

What on earth had happened to cause such a tremendous change in this fierce tiger?

But no matter what, since he had suffered a loss, it meant the Nanhong Sect master had gained the upper hand.

That kid surnamed Shen — his life really is tough enough… not bad, not bad! He's truly helped me regain face!

The slight displeasure she had previously felt toward that Weixiaoshen Sect master because of Ji Jingxi now dissipated like smoke.

Thinking of this, Senior Zi Xian slowly withdrew her gaze: "My apologies, but I have no habit of discussing things with the dead."

Based on what this tiger had done today, dying ten thousand times would not be excessive.

Does he really take the Eastern Dragon Palace for some great philanthropist!

As her words fell, she flung her sleeve violently; surging demon force raged forth. Compared to the casual strike that had knocked Ke Laoqi off Lady Yushan last time, this one clearly carried killing intent — aimed to take his life.

An Tingfeng's mind was already in turmoil, and coupled with the fact that his realm was far inferior, before the next word could leave his mouth, his powerful body was sent flying backward with a thunderous crash!

The demon force, like a gale of razor wind, shredded his mystic-white great cloak with irresistible force, and even his formidable demon body split open with gaping wounds, exposing ghastly white bone.

Without any restraint, Senior Zi Xian finally displayed just how terrifying the crushing dominance of a Heaven-realm cultivator over an Earth-realm one truly was.

She stepped forward again; the dragon claws transformed back into slender jade hands, though now a long dragon-scale sword had appeared in her palm.

Just as she was about to take this tiger's life, Senior Zi Xian's brow furrowed slightly and she slowly halted her steps.

Only after An Tingfeng crashed through Lady Yushan did a scroll emerge from the clear waters, swallowing him whole—the landscape within the painting trembled violently several times, completely dissolving the demonic energy.

The next moment, the scroll hurled An Tingfeng back into the hall.

"Tsk, what's wrong with Senior Zi Xian? Such a fit of rage."

Before An Tingfeng, several figures had appeared out of nowhere; their leader wore a golden-yellow long robe, a color so striking it somehow exuded nobility rather than vulgarity.

The middle-aged man gently stroked his goat-like beard, smiled faintly at Zi Xian, then bowed: "Junrui came uninvited; I hope Senior Zi Xian will forgive my intrusion."

He did not address her as Dragon Consort, but called her Zi Xian—his tone subtly carried disdain for Yu Nanhong.

"Situ?"

Zi Xian, recognizing the attire of the newcomers, flickered with displeasure: "So, you've broken through to the Breakthrough Realm? How dare you come to my Yushan?"

Remember, the Eastern Dragon Palace treats all Northern Hong forces equally—with equal hatred!

"Just a little short. Just a little short."

Situ Junrui smiled again, waving his hand: "My Liangdaohuang Sect has come to Yu Nanhong on business; I thought it proper to notify Senior Zi Xian, lest we disturb the harmony between our sect and the Eastern Dragon Palace."

"Harmony?" Zi Xian curled her lips, glancing down at the junior with mockery.

This man was the Zongzhu of the Sixteenth Branch of the Liangdaohuang Sect—and the youngest among them, aside from Xue Yan.

Yet as a top-tier Northern Hong power, every one of their branch Zongzhu had once ranked among the top three in the Dao Bing Records during their youth—in other words, each was a top-tier Hongze prodigy who had crossed the Fourth Tribulation.

"Perhaps there were misunderstandings in the past, but relationships are built gradually."

"Like now."

Situ Junrui lowered his gaze to the tiger demon at his feet: "Junrui has no objection to carrying out this killing for you, Senior, sparing your hands—everyone knows the White Dragon with Purple Beard dislikes bloodshed. This vile beast, let me handle him."

At this, Zi Xian fell silent for a moment, then coldly laughed: "Say it straight—you're hunting demons for Xue Yan. Don't pretend you're doing me a favor. Our relationship hasn't reached that point."

"That's true. The Liangdaohuang Sect will remember this favor of yours. But if word spreads that you killed him yourself, it may damage your reputation."

Hearing this, Zi Xian paused, then said nothing—implicitly accepting the arrangement: "..."

Situ Junrui bowed again, then slowly knelt down. Though his realm was nearly equal to An Tingfeng's, he now moved as if caressing a harmless little beast, gently patting the tiger demon's forehead: "Good boy. I have urgent matters to attend to. Go find a place to heal. Don't cause trouble again. I'll come for you later."

An Tingfeng could not speak.

When the Jiangshan scroll had swallowed him, countless talismanic shadows had formed on his body, pinning him to the ground—only when Situ Junrui raised his hand did he regain the strength to stand.

Compared to the earlier crushing of his realm, this situation revealed a gap in technique.

Before the Liangdaohuang Sect, the demon clans of Yu Nanhong were no different from country bumpkins.

"Go."

Situ Junrui waved with a smiling face.

An Tingfeng's expression was blank. He gave one long look at the figures in the hall, then turned and walked toward the exit.

Once his figure vanished completely,

Zi Xian returned to her throne: "Now, tell me what you want."

"Senior Zi Xian need not worry—we have no intention of asking for your help. We merely came to pay our respects."

Situ Junrui smiled warmly, though his eyes gleamed sharply: "Our disciples dying outside is common enough—it's part of their training. But for it to stir up the entire Yu Nanhong, for everyone to know... even for word to reach our Northern Hong? That's rare."

"If we do nothing, they'll think the Dao Huang Sect can be trampled on."

"Of course, we won't escalate things. Rest assured, Senior Zi Xian—we only seek justice."

"I take my leave." With that, Situ Junrui bowed again, then led his disciples out of the hall.

The hall grew empty once more.

Zi Xian leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples with mild headache—she was now, in effect, half the ruler of Yu Nanhong, yet she couldn't fathom why everything had suddenly descended into chaos.

But she had no intention of intervening.

The Liangdaohuang Sect likely came for the Wan Yao Dian—neither of these factions concerned her, nor the Seven Sons of Yu Nanhong. Let them fight.

Thinking of the Seven Sons of Yu Nanhong, Zi Xian's face finally softened slightly. Next time she met the Weixiaoshen Zongzhu, she must ask exactly what had happened—surviving an attack by the Haoyue Shuanghu clan, even with protection from other Zongzhu, was no small feat.

The Weixiaoshen Zongzhu was indeed unlucky—just after quarreling with that young tiger demon, the Baoyue Grand Tomb went awry, bringing him this undeserved disaster. She wondered what expression he wore now.

With that thought, Zi Xian shook her head with a faint smile, then vanished from the hall.

Meanwhile,

Outside Yushan, the Liangdaohuang Sect group swiftly darted out of the waters.

Situ Junrui's face bore no trace of his earlier humility. He casually waved his hand, summoning the vast Jiangshan scroll, then his body turned to a streak of light and landed upon a cushion.

"Huh."

He sat cross-legged, his gaze fixed ahead.

There, within the Dao Huang Palace, an old man, battered and bloodied, was bound to a massive pillar—his face twisted in agony, his aura weak, clearly subjected to inhuman torture.

"To enter my Dao Huang Palace is a fortune earned over several lifetimes."

"I advise you to recount every detail. I'll grant you the chance to return to your sect, to be buried with your comrades. Otherwise... you'll be swallowed into my Jiangshan scroll."

Though the old man's face was a ruin of blood and flesh, his features were still faintly recognizable.

It was Yang Yunheng, Grand Elder of the Banshan Sect.

"I... I showed you... the jade slip..." Yang Yunheng whispered.

"Oh?" Situ Junrui stroked his beard again, amused: "You mean that thing every Yu Nanhong person has? Do you think I need to take it from you?"

"There's... nothing else." Yang Yunheng forced his eyes open.

"Good." Situ Junrui nodded slightly: "Then tell me—who recorded that jade slip? Your Zongzhu? Or your Daozi?"

At this, Yang Yunheng's heart leapt. He clenched his teeth for a long time, then finally said: "I recorded it myself."

"Then describe what you saw," Situ Junrui continued, teasingly: "For instance, what did the master of the Xuanjin Light look like? What realm? What was he wearing?"

Yang Yunheng fell silent again. His face shifted through fear and hesitation. He glanced warily at the Jiangshan scroll, then closed his eyes once more: "Everything's in the jade slip. I saw nothing else."

"Ha—"

Situ Junrui suddenly burst into loud laughter, laughing until he was out of breath, rubbing his eyes as he said to the several disciples, "He is treating me like a fool to coax me... You all tell him how the Liangdaohuang Sect handles matters."

Several disciples of the Liangdaohuang Sect stood hanging their hands, responding indifferently, "If the true culprit cannot be found, then leave not even a chicken or dog alive."

(End of this chapter)