Chapter 217: The People Came, the People Left

When luck comes, no one can stop it.

This Wu Dafu, a mid-level member of the Red Dragon Society, thought suicide would keep his secrets safe.

But he did not know that Chen Mu could read his memories.

For memories from the past three years of his life, Chen Mu used a card to freely "browse."

Quickly.

In the memories, Chen Mu found the information he wanted.

Members of the Baihuo Sect, fleeing from the Red Dragon Society's pursuit, had taken refuge in Dalong Mountain.

Dalong Mountain lies northeast of Wulong Fucheng, forty li away.

Knowing the location, Chen Mu immediately activated his Flame True Qi and burned the corpses of Wu Dafu and others to ash.

Then he headed straight for Dalong Mountain.

……

Night darkness, like ink, dyed the sprawling Dalong Mountain into a somber silhouette.

At the northeastern foothill, at the edge of the dense forest.

Hou Ping, thin and gaunt with a pointed face and monkey-like features, was an elder of the Red Dragon Society, at the peak of the Primordial Realm.

At this moment, he emitted eerie laughter, his feet littered with the corpses of several Baihuo Sect disciples, their deaths gruesome.

His short blade darted swiftly, slicing the corpses apart like a butcher dissecting an ox, then casually tossing the pieces to two massive dogs beside him—each the size of a calf, drooling saliva, eyes gleaming with malice.

"Eat! Eat more, eat your fill so you can find those hiding rats!"

"Jiejiejie~"

Hou Ping's voice was shrill and piercing, especially chilling in the night.

……

In a leeward hollow to the southeast.

Zhu Li, also an elder, though a woman, had a fierce face, a scar slashing diagonally from her left forehead to her right jawline, adding even more cruelty to her expression.

Holding a long whip like a venomous snake, she lashed it repeatedly against two captured Baihuo Sect prisoners; the whip's barbed tip raised bloody sprays with every swing.

"Speak! Where is Yang Zhu?" she demanded sharply.

The two disciples were already flesh torn open, yet they clenched their teeth, gazing blankly at the night sky, showing no reaction to the whippings or insults—as if their suffering meant nothing to them.

"Fine! Tough bastards, huh?"

Zhu Li's face twisted with rage, her chest heaving violently; she swung her whip hard at a nearby rock, sending sparks flying.

Then another lash struck one disciple's head—"Bang!"—it exploded outright.

……

On the western mountain path.

Lu Minghao, also an elder of the Red Dragon Society, wore a white robe that still looked elegant even in the dark mountain forest, but now his face was grim, devoid of his usual composure.

Hearing his subordinates repeatedly report "no trace found," he snapped his folding fan shut with a "snap," impatiently urging them on.

"Useless! Move faster! Dig down three feet if you have to—find them!"

……

In the southern stream valley.

Yu Chenghe, with white beard and hair, held a dust whisk; his bearing was the most transcendent among the four elders.

Unlike the other three, he was not frantic—calmly standing atop a green stone, his gaze like lightning scanning the dark forest, his voice low but clear to every subordinate's ears.

"Search thoroughly—not an inch left unexamined. They won't hold out much longer."

……

At the peak of a barren cliff.

Peng Qianjiao, leader of the Red Dragon Society, stood with hands clasped behind his back, his crimson robe billowing in the howling mountain wind.

Peng Qianjiao's face was ancient and rugged; when his eyes opened and closed, flashes of brilliance flickered within. Though he did not personally join the search, he merely gazed quietly at the silent mountains beneath the night sky, his ears twitching slightly to catch every unusual sound carried by the wind.

Occasionally, subordinates flew in from different directions to whisper reports on search progress; Peng Qianjiao merely nodded slightly, occasionally uttering one or two brief commands, like a hunter commanding the whole hunt.

……

Deep within Dalong Mountain, in an extremely hidden ravine completely covered by vines, there was a naturally formed narrow cave.

Inside, the air was foul, thick with the smell of blood and herbs.

Fewer than twenty remaining Baihuo Sect disciples huddled here, all wounded, weary yet alert, yet deep in their eyes burned an unyielding flame.

Each tried to suppress their own aura, like wounded beasts lying in wait.

Yang Zhu, the Sect's Guardian Dharma King, sat cross-legged just inside the cave entrance; the cloth wrapped around his left shoulder was soaked in blood, his face pale, yet his spine remained straight as a nail anchoring the sea, steadying everyone's spirits.

His mind sharply focused, constantly sensing movements outside the cave, preparing for the worst.

In one corner of the cave, Lu Ziyi leaned against the cold stone wall, her face devoid of color, her breath faint.

She closed her eyes, attempting to regulate her breath, but her mind was filled with chaotic thoughts.

'Half a month has passed… the agreed time has long since passed. He probably thinks I'm already dead.'

'The Dragon-Tiger Storm Gathering is over; he must have left and returned to Lincang Fucheng…'

This thought brought a pang of disappointment to her heart.

Yet, deep within her soul, a faint hope stubbornly flickered.

'What if he comes to find me?'

The moment this hope arose, it was immediately drowned by greater fear.

'No… he must not come! Peng Qianjiao is a Earth Altar Realm, Divine Bridge Peak cultivator, infamous for his brutality. Chen Mu may be strong, but he has not yet entered the Earth Altar Realm—if he truly comes… won't I be dooming him?'

Hope and fear, expectation and dread.

Complex emotions entangled and churned within her, seemingly worsening her already grave injuries; a thread of blood silently seeped from the corner of her mouth.

Outside the cave, the hoot of the owl suddenly grew urgent—that was the warning from the outer sentries—

Someone is coming!

The people inside the cave instantly perked up, enduring their wounds, rising one by one, grasping their weapons, preparing for battle.

Lu Ziyi also abandoned all other concerns and stood up.

Yang Zhu was even ready to step outside.

Yet the owl's hoot suddenly became calm.

It's safe!

'What's going on?'

'I don't know…'

'Should we go out and check?'

'Better not!'

…

Inside the cave, several Baihuo Sect members, under the dim light, exchanged glances.

Yang Zhu signaled to the group; the crowd maintained their battle stance.

Though the warning indicated safety, the full situation remained unknown.

Being cautious is always better.

…

Outside the ravine.

Chen Mu halted beneath a tree, muttering to himself.

'Good, Lu Ziyi is still alive, but are the Baihuo Sect members really this weak?'

'The people hidden in the cave are no more than one Innate Realm cultivator, at most Sixth Stage Innate, from their qi signatures.'

'A sect without a Earth Altar Realm expert?'

'Or perhaps the Earth Altar expert has already died in battle?'

…

After a moment of thought, Chen Mu shook his head, too lazy to ponder the reason.

Finding the person, and finding them alive, is enough.

As for not entering the cave to identify themselves, it's unnecessary for now.

The Chi Jiao Clan has too many men searching the mountains.

Any large disturbance here will draw them over.

The best course now is to strike first!

Thinking of this,

Chen Mu's figure blurred, riding the night wind, swiftly and silently departing toward the northeastern foot of Dalong Mountain.

Kill Hou Ping first!