Chapter 290: Film Studio (Bonus Chapter, Requesting Monthly Votes)

Duan Shaohong sat in the Lu family mansion, wailing loudly: "Sister, have mercy on your elder sister—let me take Huaiyi away, or I won't have a way to live!"

Lu Maoxian had already struck hard against the Zhang family; Zhang Huaiyi's nominal father, Zhang Bochu, had been beaten half to death.

Duan Shaohong was adamant, telling Lu Maoxian's men: "Beat them however you like—we won't bow down."

But she hadn't expected Lu Maoxian's men to beat her too.

Beating Zhang Bochu didn't matter—she didn't care.

But being beaten herself? That was real pain—agonizing pain.

The couple hadn't just been beaten—their house was burned down, all their property seized, and even her father, Elder Duan, was implicated.

All she cared about was Lu family property; she never realized how ruthless the Lu family could be.

Lu Maoxian sent men to order the entire family to leave that same day; Duan Shaohong dared not disobey—she rushed to the Lu mansion to beg Duan Shaoxia.

Sending someone over was easy; taking them back? Hard. The "Zhang Huaiyi" now isn't Zhang Huaiyi anymore.

Duan Shaoxia comforted her: "Sister, the harder things get, the more we must stand tall—we must show the Duan family's backbone!"

"There's no backbone left—I've had several bones broken," Duan Shaohong shook her head. "Sister, have mercy on your elder sister—pretend I never mentioned this. Let it pass. Can you do that?"

Duan Shaoxia slammed her fist on the table: "I won't swallow this insult. Come first day of the month, we'll still hold the banquet—we must settle this."

"Don't hold it, please don't…" Duan Shaohong clung to Duan Shaoxia. "If you do, you'll be burying your sister and her whole family!"

Duan Shaoxia frowned: "This is settled—it won't change. Xiao Qiu, how's the banquet preparation going?"

Qiu Zhiheng looked troubled: "The Elder has summoned the entire clan and announced the matter publicly—now no one will even accept an invitation."

Duan Shaoxia fell silent, displeased with Qiu Zhiheng.

Duan Shaohong quickly chimed in: "Sister, listen to Manager Qiu—don't defy the entire Lu family. If the whole Lu clan rejects it, holding the banquet won't help."

"Sister, just let me take Huaiyi away—I beg you, please?"

Duan Shaoxia sighed: "We'll delay the banquet—but Huaiyi is my son now. He will live in the Lu mansion from now on."

"Then… what about me?"

"Why not go home first?"

Duan Shaohong exploded: "Where do I go? My house is burned down! Sister, are you really leaving me no way to live? At least let me stay here for now!"

Reluctantly, Duan Shaoxia let Duan Shaohong stay temporarily in the Lu mansion.

That night, Duan Shaohong wanted to see her son.

Zhang Huaiyi claimed he was unwell and refused to meet her.

…

Lu Maoxian sat in the hall, smashing several teacups.

The film theater incident had blown up.

A ten-minute clip had been released—everyone now knew Lu Maoxian was still vigorous, still potent.

That wasn't the worst part.

The key issue: many now knew Lu Maoxian's peculiar habit—he liked to film the whole thing.

Lu Maoxian was an Elder of the Qingshou Society, studied the teachings of the sages, preached virtue—but he secretly filmed it, then showed the recordings to everyone.

Is this the ultimate secret of the sages?

This wasn't rumor—it was printed in the papers.

The Ling family newspaper claimed: the sages' ultimate teaching lies in honesty.

The new publication "Ye Lai Xiang" also claimed: the sages' secret lies in frankness.

Was this film really made by Lu Maoxian?

Of course not.

Lu Maoxian liked young women, but despised film. The events shown were real—but he didn't film them.

Ling Miaoying had used her Kuixiu technique to observe them, then used a magic treasure to embed the footage into the film.

Lu Maoxian was furious. That night, he summoned over twenty trusted men, ordering them to track Ling Miaoying's movements—kill her the moment an opportunity arose.

He wouldn't spare Ling Miaoying's film company either—every actor, every crew member, would be dealt with, so no one would dare work for her again.

He'd also strike hard at the movie theaters: anyone who dared screen "Bloodblade Detective" would have their theater burned down.

He'd long wanted to do this—it was the sages' own order, and the sages would cover his back.

Now that he'd fully broken with the Ling family, better to cut ties now than wait for them to strike first.

At ten at night, Lu Maoxian received word: Ling Miaoying and the top actress Tu Yinghong were at the company, reviewing a script.

Lu Maoxian immediately led his men to the film studio. He knew Ling Miaoying was a high-level Kuixiu —open attack would trigger her defenses. He first sent Xu Huairong, a seventh-layer poison cultivator, to poison the building's vicinity.

Xu Huairong had killed many Kuixiu —he knew their techniques and habits. Dozens of meters from the building, he set down a bamboo basket and sat on the roadside, smoking a pipe.

To ordinary passersby, he looked like an old man resting. Against Kuixiu, stealth alone wasn't enough—any slight movement would alert them. He had to appear openly, strike secretly.

Inside his bamboo basket, a colorless, invisible serpent spirit slipped silently toward the building.

The serpent spirit opened its mouth and released poison. The several guards patrolling the building suddenly went blank-eyed.

They were poisoned—but showed no obvious change in behavior, still circling the building on patrol.

The serpent spirit entered the building and released more poison. Xu Huairong sat on the ground, drenched in cold sweat. He spent over ten minutes draining all the poison mist—his strength was completely spent.

Inside the film studio, everyone's eyes went blank—but their work continued.

The accountant still counted accounts, fingers fumbling randomly over the abacus beads.

The screenwriter still revised the script, scribbling wildly on the page.

The set technician still repaired props, hammering aimlessly.

Ling Miaoying still discussed plot details with Tu Yinghong—the changes were fewer, but the depth remained intact.

Poison cultivator Xu Huairong gave Lu Maoxian a slight nod—signaling success.

Lu Maoxian pressed his palm downward, signaling him to recall the poison mist.

Xu Huairong tapped his pipe, sat quietly for a moment, then slung the basket over his back and left the building.

He recalled the serpent spirit—and the poison mist.

For safety, Lu Maoxian waited several more minutes before ordering his men upstairs.

He himself wouldn't enter the building—he didn't know what traps might be inside. Lu Maoxian never took unnecessary risks.

Lin Zhixiao, a sixth-layer Wu Xiu, led over a dozen men into the film studio. Ignoring everyone else, they headed straight to the top floor.

They pushed open Ling Miaoying's bedroom. Tu Yinghong stood in front, Ling Miaoying behind—both had blank eyes, yet continued speaking.

Lin Zhixiao drew his short blade and lunged forward, slicing off Ling Miaoying's head.

Ling Miaoying's body froze. Blood gushed from the severed neck like a spring, drenching Tu Yinghong.

Tu Yinghong seemed unaware—her body still swayed back and forth.

Lin Zhixiao laughed: "Old Xu's poison is powerful!"

As he spoke, he slashed Tu Yinghong's throat and ordered his men: "No survivors in this building—kill them all."

The men drew weapons and began slaughtering from top to bottom—anyone they saw, they killed.

Lin Zhixiao killed the accountant and noticed a hidden door in the room.

He pushed it open—inside were several more people, eyes blank, counting money.

It was the vault.

After killing them, Lin Zhixiao found another hidden door inside the vault.

This film studio had more rooms than expected.

…

Lu Maoxian waited quietly downstairs, awaiting news from inside.

"Elder, there's movement," one guard heard faint screams.

Lu Maoxian froze—he heard it too.

Lin Zhixiao was a famed assassin—he shouldn't be making this much noise.

Lu Maoxian glanced around. Night had fallen, the street empty—but if anyone noticed, it could ruin everything.

A rickshaw puller passed by—seemed to hear nothing.

A beggar rummaged through trash—also seemed deaf to the sounds.

Lu Maoxian frowned, waiting for Lin Zhixiao to finish quickly.

How many people could be in this building?

They were all poisoned. He was a sixth-layer Wu Xiu, with dozens of men—why was this taking so long?

"What's that boy doing?" Lu Maoxian muttered, glancing around.

One guard said: "He's on the third floor—I saw him."

Saw him?

Lu Maoxian looked up at the film studio—and saw Lin Zhixiao.

He was cleaning up a few set workers on the third floor.

The building had become transparent!

Was the building fake?

No—trapped!

Lu Maoxian stepped back to flee—when suddenly Ling Miaoying's voice whispered beside him: "Elder, where are you going? The film isn't over yet."

Ling Miaoying's figure suddenly appeared before Lu Maoxian, Tu Yinghong standing beside her.

Lu Maoxian nodded, praising: "Ling Boss, impressive—you made an entire building vanish!"

Ling Miaoying shook her head: "This isn't fake—it's real. Your men are killing people inside this building. There are endless people in this tower. Ask Lin Zhixiao—are the people here real or not?"

"These people can speak, walk, bleed when cut, show symptoms after poisoning—dare you say they aren't real?"

Lu Maoxian had no reply.

He had lived this long and had never seen such a technique.

Ling Miaoying pinched Tu Yinghong's peach-like cheek, pointing to the "Ling Miaoying" and "Tu Yinghong" inside the tower: "Look—they've come back to life. Their severed heads have grown back. Look, they're starting again. They're immersed so deeply—how can this not seem real?"

Tu Yinghong shook her head: "I don't think it's real. They're not immersed enough yet. I'll show you what true immersion looks like in a moment."

Ling Miaoying pinched Tu Yinghong's face. Taking advantage of the moment, Lu Maoxian suddenly activated a technique—a feathered arrow pierced his left cheek and exited through his right.

Lu Maoxian spat out a mouthful of blood and pulled a brush from his robe, ready to write.

A short blade descended from above, severing his forearm at the elbow.

Lu Maoxian gritted his teeth against the agony, stepped back several paces. Several Zhigua surrounded him—some shielding him, others rushing to fight Ling Miaoying.

The Zhigua who reached Ling Miaoying could not touch her or Tu Yinghong—they were mere illusions.

Ling Miaoying gazed calmly at Lu Maoxian and spoke slowly: "Ever since the company burned and my film reels were destroyed, I've invested heavily and prepared thoroughly. Old Master Lu, let me ask you—was it you who set fire here before?"

Lu Maoxian shook his head.

"Won't admit it?" Ling Miaoying sneered. "I'm about to shoot a new film. You won't live to see it."

PS: He Jiaqing ordered Ling Miaoying to spare Lu Maoxian's life, but Ling Miaoying had no intention of doing so.

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(End of Chapter)