Chapter 814: Nobody in Sight (This Chapter

Dan Chengjun’s body was torn from scalp to navel; the wound’s edges grew and stretched, tendons and bones twisted and knotted, his body rapidly healing.

Li Banfeng used Dong Ben Xi Zou again, forcing Dan Chengjun’s flesh to resist moving in a single direction; as soon as the technique activated, Dan Chengjun’s body recoiled sharply.

Li Banfeng had seen this scene before.

Under the state of Si Xin Duan Nian, when Dan Chengjun suffered severe injury, he would flee the battlefield at extreme speed.

Last time, Li Banfeng didn’t understand Dan Chengjun’s condition and hesitated slightly—Dan Chengjun had already escaped.

This time, Li Banfeng wouldn’t give him a chance to run; he poured all his strength into pursuit.

The two raced out of the willow garden and onto the main street.

A man selling roasted sweet potatoes didn’t know what was happening—he only saw Dan Chengjun walking backward down the street, then snatched up his oven, hurling charcoal and fire at Li Banfeng.

The oven was easy to dodge; Li Banfeng avoided it.

Charcoal and fire flew everywhere; Li Banfeng no longer dodged, continuing his chase with his body smoldering.

Some embers landed on the roadside, igniting several houses; people rushed to put out the fires, unaware of the cause.

Two blood-soaked men sprinted down the street—one walking backward, the other smoking—no one knew their origins.

Passersby, street vendors, shopkeepers—all paused their work and stood at the roadside to watch.

Those below a certain cultivation level couldn’t see their forms, only a sudden cloud of dust and bloodstains across the ground.

One man grew curious; he doubted the stains weren’t blood and stepped forward to touch them.

His wife stopped him: “Don’t touch—it might be poisonous.”

“Poisonous? So what? I’m not afraid.” The man was a Wu Xiu from Earth Level Two; ordinary poisons couldn’t faze him. He shoved his wife aside, touched the blood, and exclaimed excitedly: “It’s blood—real blood.”

That touch was a mistake—Dan Chengjun’s blood couldn’t be touched.

The fingertip that touched the blood instantly lost flesh, revealing bone.

The man wept in agony, crying out in pain, yet his flesh continued peeling upward along the bone, spreading toward his entire palm.

His wife grabbed a cleaver from a pork stall, chopped off his hand, and saved his life.

“Even his blood is this deadly—who were those two?”

“Who knows? Let’s stay far away—people like that could kill us with a flick of their fingers.”

Fearful as they were, some still couldn’t help craning their necks to watch.

Dan Chengjun turned the corner and encountered a book stall; he picked up a book from the ground and hurled it at Li Banfeng.

Pages scattered, turning razor-sharp, surrounding Li Banfeng from all sides.

Li Banfeng dodged with Bu Diao, but many bystanders were cut by the flying pages.

Dan Chengjun passed a tea stall, snatched up a large copper teapot filled with boiling water.

He was about to throw it—Li Banfeng struck first, using Dong Ben Xi Zou on Dan Chengjun.

Dan Chengjun fell to the ground clutching the teapot; Li Banfeng seized the chance and used Wu Ma Fen Shi.

As the two paused on the street, someone finally saw their forms clearly.

Dan Chengjun’s skull was split open, his brain matter plainly visible.

Bystanders trembled in terror, yet still couldn’t look away.

Li Banfeng had sometimes wondered: if a Dao sect were founded just for spectators, what should it be called?

Such a sect would have countless cultivators—at least as many as the Food Cultivators.

Dan Chengjun’s split skull still moved swiftly; Li Banfeng kept chasing, the two darting through every alley of Moxiang Town.

Dan Chengjun dashed into a bookhouse—unopened, empty—Li Banfeng followed inside; after a brief clash, the bookhouse collapsed.

From the ruins, Dan Chengjun emerged first, turning into a poetry society.

Li Banfeng didn’t follow him inside—the poetry society was a five-story tower, filled with recitations; if it collapsed, who knew how many would die?

He waited outside briefly; Dan Chengjun soon burst out of the poetry society and charged toward the vegetable market.

This relied on Li Banfeng’s deep familiarity with Dan Chengjun—he knew Dan Chengjun fled unconsciously, otherwise he wouldn’t have left the poetry society so easily.

At the vegetable market, Dan Chengjun stopped fleeing.

The technique failed; Dan Chengjun regained consciousness—this was his designated escape point.

Si Xin Duan Nian was a technique Dan Chengjun used only in dire emergencies; if he suffered excessive injury while under its effect, it meant he was at life-or-death brink.

Thus he embedded an escape technique within it: once injured beyond a threshold, Dan Chengjun under Si Xin Duan Nian would instantly flee along a fixed route to a predetermined location.

In unfamiliar terrain, Dan Chengjun chose secluded spots to escape; in cities, he chose crowded places.

Few cultivators could force Dan Chengjun into such a corner—those who could were secretive and avoided public appearances; Dan Chengjun charged toward crowds, then vanished among them, likely escaping easily.

But today, he hadn’t expected Li Banfeng to chase him all the way.

This put Dan Chengjun in a bind.

As for fighting—he wasn’t afraid—but he didn’t want to expose himself in public.

“Li Qi, can’t we fight somewhere else? Being watched by so many people isn’t appropriate.”

BOOM!

Li Banfeng stomped, churning dust and flinging shattered stones across the market.

It was a warning to buyers and sellers: leave now—if you still want to watch, bear the consequences yourself.

Most people in the market had fled; only a few stubborn vendors, unwilling to abandon their goods, scrambled to salvage their stalls.

Li Banfeng released his wine gourd; it spat fire at the remaining vendors, who immediately dropped everything and ran.

Dan Chengjun looked at his wounds, then raised his head at Li Qi: “I never thought you could reduce me to this—what technique did you use? Tell me.”

Li Banfeng shook his head: “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand. Your brain’s nearly dried out—I’ll just show you again.”

Dan Chengjun reattached his skull, found a hemp rope on a stall, and tied his head tightly.

"Li Qi, today we must settle this matter of life and death, right?"

Li Banfeng shook his head: “No need to settle—I must kill you.”

Dan Chengjun sized up Li Qi, then glanced behind him: “You’re wounded too, your Xiao Huoche Legs are gone—what do you plan to fight with?”

Li Banfeng smiled: “You couldn’t beat me even with Si Xin Duan Nian—and now you’re still boasting?”

Dan Chengjun picked up a wine jar, rinsed his wounds with liquor: “Li Qi, I’m not weaker than you. When I use Si Xin Duan Nian, I flee the moment I’m injured enough—if I’d been conscious just now, you’d already be dead in my hands.”

“Still, you and Yu Bu Zhu both know Yu Xiu techniques. Without Si Xin Duan Nian, I’d still be outmaneuvered by both of you—so this fight is indeed hard for me.”

Li Banfeng nodded: “If you know it’s hard, don’t fight—end it yourself now.”

“No, I don’t want to die!” Dan Chengjun drank a sip, set the jar down. “Yu Bu Zhu isn’t here, your Yu Xiu technique isn’t perfected yet. I admire you, young man—I’ll let you die with dignity.”

“I’ll kill you in three strikes, then kill Yu Bu Zhu. You two die together—how’s that?”

“Three strikes?” Li Banfeng lifted his hat brim. “I’ll give you thirty. Let’s see who dies first.”

As he spoke, Li Banfeng studied Dan Chengjun’s wounds—now washed clean, the damage was starkly visible.

Dan Chengjun’s wounds healed rapidly.

Li Banfeng activated Wu Xing Jie Xian and Gao Zhen Wu You—yet even then, Dan Chengjun’s healing outpaced him.

What technique was this?

Dan Chengjun grabbed several pastries, shoved them into his mouth, mumbled: “Li Qi, let me give you one last warning.”

“I only came to retrieve a contract. If I can’t get it, I’ll leave. Dying over this? Not worth it.”

Li Banfeng thought, then asked: “Were you telling the truth just now?”

Dan Chengjun nodded: “Absolutely. Heartfelt truth.”

“On Xue Ya Mountain, you can’t lie, right?”

P

Dan Chengjun nodded: “Exactly! Every word on Xue Ya Mountain is true.”

Li Banfeng said: “Then answer me—your rapid healing—is it tied to the Xue Ya Monster? To Food Cultivators? Don’t lie!”

“Of course it’s tied! The Xue Ya Monster eats exceptionally well—and after eating, she produces amazing things. She’s given me many such things, so this—” Dan Chengjun spat, staring at Li Banfeng.

“Li Qi, you just used a Yu Xiu technique on me again.”

“No I didn’t! You’re imagining things!” Li Banfeng feigned innocence.

“This isn’t Xue Ya Mountain—you didn’t activate a technique. Why did I tell you so many truths?”

Li Banfeng said: “Maybe you’re just an honest man.”

Dan Chengjun nodded: “True. I’m honest. Your scheming ways disgust me. Let’s fight now—I promise: three strikes, I kill you. One more? I’m cheating.”

As he spoke, Dan Chengjun plunged his hand into his own wound, snapped two ribs free, one in each hand.

Li Banfeng stared in horror: “If you need a weapon, there are cleavers nearby—don’t mutilate yourself.”

Dan Chengjun raised the ribs, pointed at Li Banfeng: “Three strikes. Count them yourself.”

Li Banfeng saw bright red marrow on the broken ends—unlike ordinary ribs, Dan Chengjun’s marrow was unusually abundant.

His blood could invade Shen Shen Ju; his marrow’s quality must be even superior—Li Banfeng must guard against it.

Strike first—or wait for his move?

Li Banfeng prepared to strike first—Dan Chengjun’s form vanished.

He might possess a Huan Xiu magic treasure or another technique; Li Banfeng instantly maximized Jin Qing Qiu Hao, Dong Xi Ling Yin, Bai Wei Ling Long, and Qu Ji Bi Xiong.

Danger approached—Li Banfeng first smelled blood, then heard footsteps; by the time he saw the form, Dan Chengjun stood at the leek stall.

The leek stall was only five steps away—but five steps were enough.

Li Banfeng moved first, using Duan Jing Kai Lu to line up the leeks in a row, blocking Dan Chengjun.

Dan Chengjun didn’t grasp Li Banfeng’s intent—how could leeks stop him?

He tore through a large patch of leeks, thrusting the two ribs toward Li Banfeng’s head—but the blow missed.

He couldn’t hit Li Banfeng; Li Banfeng kicked him square in the face, solid and true.

Dan Chengjun’s cheek twisted out of shape; he rose to strike again, only to find two blades of garlic chives stuck in the ground.

The purpose of cutting the path was to plant those two garlic chives upright; now that the hundred-step grid was complete, Li Banfeng could strike Dan Chengjun, but Dan Chengjun couldn’t touch him.

Dan Chengjun bent down to pluck the garlic chives.

Li Banfeng hooked his sickle into Dan Chengjun’s spine; the glove lunged forward and snatched the two ribs from Dan Chengjun’s hands. Without weapons, Dan Chengjun fought desperately to pull the garlic chives free—Li Banfeng brought down the Blood-Soaked Pendulum, splitting Dan Chengjun’s skull open.

He struck again along the same crack, since it had only just healed and wasn’t yet firm.

He used the Blood-Soaked Pendulum because it would suck out Dan Chengjun’s brain matter; without a brain, let’s see how Dan Chengjun would fight!

Then again, maybe without a brain, he’d fight even better.

Whatever the case, better to suck it out first.

The pendulum was about to touch Dan Chengjun’s brain matter when Li Banfeng’s hand suddenly rose, turning the pendulum toward his own brow and bringing it down.

Just before impact, the pendulum slammed on the brakes: “Master, what are you doing?”

Li Banfeng grabbed his right hand with his left; he didn’t want to cut himself, but his right hand wouldn’t obey—and it was stronger than his left.

The glove realized something was wrong; he circled behind and saw a bone lodged in Li Banfeng’s right shoulder—Dan Chengjun’s rib.

He yanked the rib out immediately.

But it was too late; Dan Chengjun’s bone marrow had already seeped into Li Banfeng’s flesh.

The glove panicked: there were only two ribs total—he’d stolen both already. How could another one appear?

Dan Chengjun pointed to his own side: “Li Qi, guess how many ribs I have? You cheat me, but I can’t cheat you?”

Dan Chengjun was the first Wu Xiu in history—and the strongest.

He could turn anything into a top-tier weapon; if he wanted to fight with his own ribs, he didn’t need to prepare them in front of Li Banfeng—he could summon them whenever he wished.

But because he’d plucked two ribs right before Li Banfeng’s eyes, Li Banfeng formed a rigid mental pattern: Dan Chengjun’s weapons were those two ribs; take them away, and he had none left.

So he’d let his guard down—and got ambushed by the third rib.

Dan Chengjun walked slowly toward Li Banfeng: “I said I’d kill you in three moves. Picking garlic chives was one. Sticking the rib in was two.

One move left. Guess how I’ll kill you?”

Li Banfeng adjusted his stance, still trying to fight—but how could he fight under these conditions?

His right hand had rebelled: unresponsive, and constantly trying to strike him.

The bone marrow seeping into his right shoulder kept spreading; if it reached his spine, it wouldn’t just control his right hand—it would control him entirely.

Dan Chengjun picked up a meat cleaver from the butcher’s stall, testing the edge: “You were right—there’s no shortage of weapons.

This cleaver’s perfect. I’ll chop you to pieces with it.”

“How can you be so foolish? I told you to stop, yet you keep clinging. What’s your worth? How dare you tangle with me? Do you know how great a fortune it is to have survived my hand once?”

Dan Chengjun swung the cleaver at Li Banfeng’s neck.

Li Banfeng dodged with Step of the Void—but his right hand yanked hard, disrupting the step; the blade still cut his neck.

Ssssh!

Dan Chengjun slit Li Banfeng’s neck, smiling: “Does it hurt?”

The blade came again; Li Banfeng dodged with Free and Easy Wandering—but his right hand surged forward, throwing off his balance; the technique failed, and the blade stayed on his neck.

“I asked you—does it hurt?” Dan Chengjun carved another gash across Li Banfeng’s neck.

Li Banfeng tried to use Horse-Gazing-at-Flowers to create distance—but his right foot tripped his left, and he crashed to the ground.

Dan Chengjun’s bone marrow expanded its control; Li Banfeng’s right foot also went limp.

Li Banfeng sat on the ground, unable to rise.

Dan Chengjun drove the cleaver into Li Banfeng’s chest: “I’m asking you—why silent? Does it hurt?”

Su Shenju lunged to pull Li Banfeng away; Dan Chengjun watched him and smiled: “You care? Want to save him? Come on!”

Li Banfeng raised his left hand, signaling Su Shenju not to approach.

Dan Chengjun crouched before Li Banfeng, cleaver in hand: “Do you want a quick death—or a few more words with me?

Talking to you’s quite entertaining.”

Li Banfeng smiled: “Let’s talk another day. Today’s enough.”

He raised his left hand—a small object shot toward Dan Chengjun’s eye.

Dan Chengjun caught it mid-air: “At this point, still trying to use hidden weapons? Let’s see what this is.”

He opened his palm—it was a key.

Dan Chengjun studied the key for a moment, then grinned: “This is the key to the little steam train, isn’t it?”

Li Banfeng said nothing; all his focus was on the key and Dan Chengjun.

Dan Chengjun walked dozens of steps away with the key.

Su Shenju, bound by his nature, felt drawn to follow the key.

The old man opened the valve, lowered the steam pressure, and locked the brakes so the wheels couldn’t move.

Dan Chengjun returned, smiling at Su Shenju: “Uncomfortable? Don’t want to come with me? Standing your ground won’t help—when he dies, you’ll still belong to me.”

Su Shenju replied: “Belong to you? Why don’t you piss on a mirror? Do you even qualify?”

Dan Chengjun tapped the key against Li Banfeng’s face: “He’s helpless now. Why protect him? Even if you lock him in your carriage, you’re just waiting for me to kill him.”

As he spoke, Dan Chengjun walked away again with the key.

Su Shenju whispered to Li Banfeng: “Don’t worry—I can hold out. I’m just putting on a show for him.

Soon I’ll pull you into the carriage. You take me far away—farther the better.”

Su Shenju wasn’t entirely bound to the key; if Li Banfeng entered him now, he could guide Su Shenju with his mind.

But Li Banfeng had no intention of fleeing—he kept his eyes locked on Dan Chengjun.

The key bore a spiritual seal; when Dan Chengjun took it, the Xuan Guang Zhu Xie technique should trigger.

The technique would cost Li Banfeng some cultivation base—but the brilliance of Tian Guang could severely wound Dan Chengjun.

How badly Dan Chengjun would be hurt, Li Banfeng didn’t know—but it was the only method he could think of.

The problem: Li Banfeng had only learned half the technique; the second half was theory, never practiced.

Under current conditions, the Xuan Guang Zhu Xie technique wouldn’t trigger automatically.

Li Banfeng tried to trigger it manually—wanted to channel chaotic power through the seal onto Dan Chengjun—but after countless tries using the Copper Lotus’s teachings, nothing worked.

Shine!

Why won’t the Tian Guang appear?

Dan Chengjun’s figure vanished suddenly.

Where was he going?

Dan Chengjun’s laughter echoed from afar: “Li Qi, not seeing me must be driving you mad. When you stole my contract, do you know how desperate I felt? Today I’ll let you taste it.”

He flashed before Li Banfeng—then vanished again.

It looked like he was taunting Li Banfeng—but only seasoned warriors could see his true intent: he was guarding against Li Banfeng’s hidden moves.

He found the key-throwing suspicious; if he rushed to kill Li Banfeng now, he’d likely fall into a trap.

So he chose to slowly grind him down—cut by cut, until Li Banfeng bled out.

He guessed right: Li Banfeng had many hidden moves.

Inside Su Shenju, the Second Chamber’s Shadow Cultivator was preparing; Li Banfeng could summon him anytime—but his strength was vastly inferior to Dan Chengjun’s.

Besides the Second Chamber, there was Yuan Miaoping. Li Banfeng didn’t know which side she belonged to, but she likely wasn’t aligned with Dan Chengjun—though that was only his guess.

If Yuan Miaoping couldn’t be relied on, he’d have to consider the most extreme option: releasing Tong Lianhua and Lai Wuju.

They might hold off Dan Chengjun—but what price would they exact? No one could say.

The safest method was to defeat Dan Chengjun with Xuan Guang Zhu Xie—but Dan Chengjun kept darting in and out, slashing Li Banfeng at random, then vanishing; Li Banfeng couldn’t lock onto him long enough.

“Master, movement!” The Thread-Ear Earring alerted him—she sensed Dan Chengjun’s position.

Following the Thread-Ear Earring’s judgment, Li Banfeng used Jin Qing Qiu Hao technique and saw Dan Chengjun darting through the vegetable market. His speed was astonishing—Li Banfeng caught only a blur—but in that instant, he marked him.

Dan Chengjun was about to strike another blow when he suddenly noticed his body glowing.

“Zhu Ju Ye Xing?” Dan Chengjun frowned. No need to hide anymore.

Once marked by Zhu Ju Ye Xing, his body emitted light—no matter where he hid nearby, he’d be visible to Li Banfeng.

Dan Chengjun stepped close to Li Banfeng: “Li Qi, you’ve learned so many obscure techniques. Isn’t your master someone obscure? You lit me up—what are you trying to do? Afraid I’ll run? I don’t need to run—you’re the one who should run—”

As he spoke, Dan Chengjun suddenly felt his tongue grow heavy, his body weak.

Li Banfeng stared closely at Dan Chengjun—his body glowed intensely.

He’d used Zhu Ju Ye Xing on He Jiaqing before—but He Jiaqing’s glow was nothing compared to this.

Li Banfeng knew this light well—he’d been illuminated by it twice.

Tian Guang!

Dan Chengjun was bathed in Tian Guang!

Who illuminated him?

Li Banfeng felt it—the Xuan Guang Zhu Xie technique had succeeded; the seal had responded.

But he checked himself—no Tian Guang emanated from him. He saw nothing, felt nothing.

Tian Nü?

Li Banfeng looked up—the sky held no Tian Guang.

The Tian Guang on Dan Chengjun had no source—could he have generated it himself?

“Old Seven, go!”

Suishenju kept calling out, and Li Banfeng used it to return home.

The old man opened a car window but didn’t leave yet—the key was still in Shan Chengjun’s hands.

Li Banfeng watched the scene outside: Shan Chengjun was desperately suppressing the heavenly light within his body, frantic, desperate to flee, but his body refused to obey—he’d taken only two steps when his legs stiffened and he collapsed onto the ground.

With this fall, Shan Chengjun lost all control; his entire body blazed with blinding light, illuminating through Suishenju so intensely that Li Banfeng couldn’t open his eyes.

When the light dimmed, the vegetables in the market withered instantly, beef and mutton exploded one after another, spraying fragments everywhere.

To Li Banfeng’s surprise, Shan Chengjun’s body remained largely intact.

“No good—I must reclaim the key!” Li Banfeng rose, hopping on one leg toward the door.

Suishenju refused to open: “Aqi, first use Gao Zhen Wu You to neutralize Shan Chengjun’s technique.”

Gao Zhen Wu You was still active, but Shan Chengjun’s marrow was hard to suppress—his right arm and right leg still moved uncontrollably.

Shan Chengjun twitched on the ground, as if trying to rise; Li Banfeng grew anxious—then suddenly, Shan Chengjun’s appearance changed.

His jet-black hair turned half-white in an instant; his once-smooth skin wrinkled into a mass, sagging loosely over his emaciated frame.

From his face, Shan Chengjun had once looked about fifty.

Now, his age was impossible to judge—even the dried corpses soaked in Gui Jianchou’s medicinal solution looked better than him.

Qiansi Earring couldn’t understand: “Master, how did he become like this? What technique did you use?”

Li Banfeng didn’t know what technique he’d used—but Suishenju had figured it out.

“He lost his cultivation base—now he probably doesn’t even have enough for Yun.”

Zhongbai still didn’t understand: “Why did he lose his cultivation? Master, what did you do?”

Li Banfeng hadn’t yet explained the process, but the old man seemed to grasp it—because Suishenju had gained two new rooms.

“Aqi, Xuan Guang Zhu Xie uses your own cultivation to form Xuan Guang and kill enemies. The technique you just used—I’ve never seen it before. You turned Shan Chengjun’s cultivation into Xuan Guang.”

Li Banfeng recalled the sequence of the technique.

He’d given the key to Shan Chengjun, successfully triggering the spirit seal.

Then he’d tried to release Xuan Guang—but failed repeatedly.

Then he’d used Zhi Ju Ye Xing to ignite Shan Chengjun—and suddenly, Shan Chengjun blazed bright. Li Banfeng suddenly laughed: “I burned his cultivation?”

Suishenju laughed too: “Yes—burned it!”

“Then what are we waiting for? This time, we kill him!” Li Banfeng hopped to the door, ignored the old man’s protests, and burst outside.

But when he stepped outside, he didn’t move.

Because someone had arrived.

Shan Chengjun struggled to rise, seeing a woman standing before him.

Shan Chengjun slowly lifted his head—his eyesight was poor; he could tell it was a woman, but couldn’t make out her face.

“Shan Chengjun, do you remember how many times you slashed me?”

“How many?” Shan Chengjun now recognized her. “You’re Yu Bu Zhuo—”

Jiu’er looked up at Li Banfeng and asked: “Aqi, did the old man ever tell you why I live in Room Nine?”

Li Banfeng shook his head.

Jiu’er smiled: “Because I chose it myself. Do you know why I chose Room Nine?”

Li Banfeng shook his head again.

Jiu’er lowered her head, staring at Shan Chengjun: “Because he slashed me nine times. Each time he cut me, he’d ask, ‘Does it hurt?’ I remember every single cut.”

Hearing this, Li Banfeng drew his sickle and handed it to Jiu’er.

Shan Chengjun looked at Li Banfeng: “Li Qi, I lost to you—I want to die by your hand. She doesn’t deserve it.”

Li Banfeng pulled his hat lower and said to Shan Chengjun: “First repay those nine cuts. If she can’t kill you after nine cuts, then she truly doesn’t deserve it. But if you can’t survive nine cuts, then you’re the one who doesn’t deserve it.”

Shan Chengjun suddenly rose, dragging his decaying body, ready for a final desperate strike.

Jiu’er slashed his right leg, then his left leg.

“Old bastard, does it hurt?” Jiu’er tapped the blade against Shan Chengjun’s face.

Shan Chengjun collapsed, grabbed a handful of dirt, and tried to retaliate.

Jiu’er slashed his left hand, then his right hand, reclaimed Suishenju’s key, and handed it back to Li Banfeng.

“Old bastard, I asked you a question—does it hurt? Are you mute?”

Without hands or feet, Shan Chengjun still struggled to rise. Jiu’er swung her sickle—fifth cut severed his spine, sixth cut severed his throat, seventh and eighth cuts gouged out his eyes.

Shan Chengjun was blind—but Jiu’er’s tears fell.

“Aqi, did you see? These nine cuts fell on me exactly the same way!”

Li Banfeng pulled out a handkerchief: “Don’t cry.”

“I have to cry!” Jiu’er wailed loudly. “Shan Chengjun, your life is over—your next life is gone too!”

Jiu’er slashed off Shan Chengjun’s head.

Her sobs changed pitch; her eyes bled tears.

A great cloud of dust fell from above the market, burying Shan Chengjun’s corpse.

PS: Thank you, Patron Feng Ci Tu Shen—our third patron. Thank you for your tremendous support!

I spent ten hours writing this chapter, six hours revising it. It’s now 3:30 a.m. I dedicate this chapter to all my readers.