Chapter 143: The Qin Clan's Gambit

The middle-aged man shook his head, showing no expression: "The young lady ordered that you must be summoned today." The few people behind him stepped forward, not hurried nor slow, but that posture was an iron barrel formation.

"Summon?" Zhang Jun pondered the word; today he probably couldn't just let it go.

Lin Xue's body jerked violently.

Surrounded, forced……

In her mind, the figure on the altar being dragged upward with all its might, wailing in heart‑rending anguish, overlapped instantly with the several expressionless faces before her.

A wave of icy cold she couldn't control exploded from within her soul with a boom!

Profound Yin Internal Force went completely out of control!

Violent cold surged forth like a river released from a gate, spreading in all directions! The ground beneath his feet instantly cracked with a crack‑crack, forming a thick layer of white frost, the air so cold it could freeze a person into a lump of ice!

The two Qin Clan members nearest to them didn't react at all, their faces instantly covered in white frost, shouting as they were frozen and kept retreating; looking over at Zhang Jun and Lin Xue, their eyes were filled with shock.

"Go!" Zhang Jun seized the rare opportunity, hoisting the nearly unconscious Lin Xue, who emitted terrifying cold that even he found bone‑chilling, into a horizontal hold; he pushed off with his feet and shot forward like a cannonball, bursting through the gap the Qin Clan had been forced back by the cold, and vanished in an instant into the deeper darkness.

The middle‑aged man watched the direction they disappeared, then lowered his head to look at the frost still spreading on the ground; his face turned ashen.

Inside the dilapidated residential building, a choking dust smell assailed them. Zhang Jun backhandedly locked the peeling wooden door; the latch's fall rang especially loud in the silence. Lin Xue in his arms was limp as boneless, yet her body was icy enough to make one's heart ache, like a piece of jade just fished from an ice cellar. The uncontrolled Profound Yin Internal Force still hadn't fully dissipated, ricocheting inside her body, and even a thin layer of white frost coated her skin, a sight that made one's chest tighten.

Zhang Jun gently laid her on the only sofa that still looked relatively intact. Lin Xue's face was as white as paper, her lips turned bluish, and her body trembled uncontrollably. He dared not delay; he pressed his palm to her back, releasing Pure Yang Energy slowly and gently, like warm water seeping inward, hoping to envelop the rampant cold and soothe it.

As his fingertips touched her, Zhang Jun felt the severity and purity of that cold, mixed with an indescribable chill and despair that seemed to have been passed down from ages past. Lin Xue let out a muffled groan from her throat, her brows knotted tight, and she forced out broken words: "Jar… black stone… blood… flowing down… that mark… inside the jar…"

Zhang Jun kept his ears perked, not daring to miss a word, quickly piecing together these fragments with what Liu San ye had said, the black jar shards on the ground, the runes in the stone chamber of White Pagoda Temple, the reaction of the hot copper piece in his pocket, and the crystal in Lin Xue's pouch. The clues twisted and turned, finally forming a rope that pointed to a place—the old residence of White Pagoda Temple, underground, a spot deeper and more sinister than the stone chamber they had previously entered.

This place surely hides a great secret, and also great danger.

Just then, "thump, thump, thump." came a knocking, unhurried and rhythmic. In the silent, ruined building, the sound seemed to strike directly at Zhang Jun's tensed nerves, making the hairs on his back stand up.

His motion froze instantly, his hand still hovering lightly above Lin Xue's back, not daring to move; his whole body tensed in an instant, his eyes sharp as he stared at the creaking old wooden door. Whoever was outside was moving damn fast. Qin Clan? Zhou Qian? Or that old monster who knows how long he's lived?

"Mr. Zhang, Miss Lin, it's me, Qin Yueyao." A woman's voice came from outside the door, clear and cold, unusually calm. Indeed, she was the thoughtful eldest daughter of the Qin Clan.

Zhang Jun didn't move, nor was he foolish enough to open the door; his voice sank, laced with undisguised mockery: "Miss Qin, you've been tailing us pretty closely. Are you Qin Clan bloodhounds, with such a keen nose? Or were the few who blocked us in the wasteland just scouts you sent out?" The question was blunt, practically tearing open a seam in their faces.

Outside the door fell silent for a moment, as if they hadn't expected him to be so blunt. Qin Yueyao's voice sounded again, still calm, as if stating an established fact: "Zhou Qian's people are also looking for you, and they've deployed more than one batch. As for the old gentleman guarding White Pagoda Temple, you should have already learned he can't be dealt with by brute force alone." She paused, her voice tinged with certainty: "Given your current condition, charging into White Pagoda Temple is no different from willingly offering your neck to the executioner's blade. The Qin Clan happens to know some secrets about the Medicine Sect's past—for instance, that place has more than one entrance, and it's not just Zhou Qian's hungry wolf eyeing it. Perhaps we can talk."

Zhang Jun remained silent. What medicine is the Qin Clan selling in that gourd? Just now they sent people to trip us up, nearly leaving us for dead there, and now they come offering warmth and talk of cooperation? A weasel paying New Year's greetings to a chicken—no good intentions. Yet what she said is also true: that grey‑robed old man is freakishly strong, Zhou Qian is a lunatic, and there may be other forces lurking in the shadows… He glanced at Lin Xue on the sofa, breath faint as a thread, her face pallid, and felt the copper piece in his pocket still warm, pointing the way. Qin Yueyao is a poisonous snake, but for now, it seems only by relying on this serpent can we possibly approach that deadly truth. Better to scheme with a tiger than be torn apart outright by a pack of wolves.

"Conditions?" He walked to the door, rested his hand on the icy lock but didn't turn it, his voice cold and hard, transmitting through the thin door panel.

"Cooperation." Qin Yueyao replied just as succinctly: "Information sharing, mutual manpower support, joint action. What Zhou Qian is eyeing is probably not as simple as the rumored medicine cauldron; the secrets involved there run far deeper than either of us imagines. More people, more strength—at least we can muddy the waters further, making it easier for us to fish in the chaos, right?"

Zhang Jun tapped the lock lightly, producing a faint "tick‑tock." "Cooperation works." His tone flat, "but we'll do it my way. First, once inside, how we go and what we do—my call; your Qin Clan people must follow my orders. Second, after we succeed, whatever loot we gain, how we split it—we'll wait until we all come out whole, then I'll decide based on my mood. If Miss Qin finds these terms too harsh, you can turn back now with your people; we'll keep to our own wells and rivers." He said this without giving the Qin Clan eldest daughter any face, directly seizing the initiative for himself.