Chapter 199: Poisoning, Poison, Poison, Poison

Yang Shu looked astonished.

Heng Xian said in surprise: "Didn't you hear?"

Yang Shu's face darkened as he sized him up: "Although I can't tell your cultivation level, the Yang Clan possesses a treasure that probes qi and blood, which can confirm you haven't formed a Golden Core. The Yang Clan has nine Qi Hai Realm experts, and even two at the Ninth Level of Qi Hai Realm. Where does your confidence come from?"

Heng Xian leisurely took a sip of tea, then set down the cup: "Confidence comes from the wrist, observation, and judging friend from foe—you wouldn't understand even if I told you!"

"Hehe..." Yang Shu also took a sip of tea, then suddenly darted to the door.

Then,

"Crack—"

A purple iron cage plummeted down, pinning Heng Xian and the table firmly beneath it.

"Clatter—"

Doors and windows flew open as a group of cultivators brimming with killing intent surrounded the house on all sides.

"Hahaha..." Yang Shu laughed loudly: "Young people are sometimes overconfident to a fault. This cage is forged from Qiong Hai Mystic Iron; it cannot be broken below the Original Elixir level. Even if you wanted to leave now, you couldn't. I've heard your combat ability is not bad, and I'm very curious about your Storage Bag."

After saying that, they saw Heng Xian still sitting calmly, not the slightest bit tense; even the hand holding his teacup was as steady as a mountain.

Yang Shu's smile froze, and he exclaimed in disbelief: "Are you out of your mind?"

Heng Xian shook his head: "It's your intellect that's the problem!"

Yang Shu snorted coldly: "Then let's see how you escape."

"I won't escape; your second uncle and your cousin will beg me to come out!" Heng Xian said.

"Please..." Yang Shu said, uncertain.

Just then, miserable cries came from outside as a group of people, supporting three staggering figures, came running.

It was Yang Jia the Elder, Yang Lan Er, and Wu Sheng.

Their faces were dark purple, blood bleeding from all seven orifices as they walked and vomited blood—a terrifying sight.

Yang Shu gasped and rushed forward: "Second uncle!"

Yang Jia the Elder shoved him aside, ran to the cage, and glared at Heng Xian: "Did you poison us? It must be you! On the road, only you had the skill to poison us!"

Yang Lan Er and Wu Sheng simply collapsed before the iron cage, their bodies convulsing.

Heng Xian leisurely picked at his nails: "That's right!"

Seeing his admission, Yang Jia the Elder sighed in relief, yet seethed with anger: "I promised you payment; we are merely ordinary folk, yet you, a cultivation master, why resort to such poison?"

Heng Xian looked at him: "Are you sincerely willing to give the reward?"

Yang Jia the Elder hesitated: "How... could you see through my thoughts? When did you notice?"

Heng Xian said: "Simple! The closer you got to Qingzi Guo, the more relaxed your expressions became, that unknown arrogance surfaced, and especially after entering Qingzi Guo's territory, your respect for me gradually faded."

This change, perhaps you didn't even notice it, indicates only one thing: once home, you grew confident, even thinking I was ordinary, believing the clan had experts who could match me.

Given that mindset, the Little Drum treasure would naturally not be given away lightly; you'd almost certainly regret it.

So, I casually slipped some poison into your food. When the Little Drum is obediently handed over, I'll silently cure you; if not, you'll die and the Yang Clan will suffer as well—that's all.

Heng Xian spoke lightly, but Yang Jia and his group felt their hearts leap with alarm.

Yang Jia the Elder strained to grip the cage: "How vicious your mind is!"

Heng Xian chuckled lightly: "How dare you put on a stern face to blame others?"

"You..." Yang Jia the Elder, furious, spat another mouthful of old blood, even a back molar.

Yang Shu at the door sneered: "You think using such despicable tactics will get you the Divine Drum and let you leave?"

Heng Xian looked at him: "Ten, nine, eight, seven..."

Yang Shu frowned: "What are you counting?"

Heng Xian said leisurely: "Counting the time until you collapse—one!"

Heng Xian said leisurely: "Counting the time you've been on the ground, one!"

Yang Shu collapsed rigidly, his muscles tensing, forehead veins bulging, black blood pouring unstoppably from his mouth and nose.

"This..." the surrounding Yang clansmen collectively went dumbfounded.

Yang Shu strained to lift his head: "You, you... when did you poison me??"

Heng Xian said: "I didn't poison you; I only poisoned my own teacup, then when I set the cup down I swapped it with yours, and you happened to drink the tea!"

Yang Shu's body trembled as he struggled to rise, a wave of dizziness hitting him: "This is hardly ordinary poisoncraft!"

Heng Xian said: "No! This is a sword-training method!"

"A sword-training method?" Yang Shu puzzled.

Heng Xian said: "Slicing through ten million swords, swapping a cup without being noticed—it's easy."

"You... practiced ten million swords?" Yang Shu's pupils contracted.

Heng Xian, too lazy to answer, lightly waved his hand, flicking Yang Jia the Elder, who was leaning on the cage, away, and said flatly: "Send over that Little Drum, or people will die."

Heng Xian couldn't be bothered to answer, lightly waved his hand, flicked the old man Yang Jia who was lying on the cage away, and said indifferently: "Send over that small drum, or someone will die!"

In less than half the time it takes to burn an incense stick, a group came flying in, clamoring around the door.

Leading them was an old man with white beard and hair, naturally imposing; he glanced at the fallen Yang Jia and company, then at Heng Xian, visibly startled for a moment, then clasped his fists and said: "Greetings, young friend; I am Yang Yan, head of the Yang Clan."

The leader was an old man with white beard and hair, who exuded authority without anger; he glanced at Yang Jia and the others lying on the ground, then looked at Heng Xian, obviously startled for a moment, then clasped his fists and said: "Greetings, young friend, I am Yang Yan, head of the Yang family."

The head of the Yang Clan rebuked: "Don't call me big brother; after years of official service, how could you make reckless promises to others, then go back on your word?"

Yang Jia was speechless, bleeding from all seven orifices even more.

Head Yang Yan sighed, approached the cage, and clasped his fists again: "Young brother, the Yang Clan admits defeat; you want the Yang Clan's ancestral Heaven-Shaking Drum. This drum is a treasure obtained by our ancestors from ancient ruins."

Frankly, it's a useless thing; for hundreds of years the Yang Clan has had no one break through Original Elixir, nor anyone able to wield it.

In earlier years, an Original Elixir expert from Falling Rosy Cloud Valley came to inspect it, then returned it to us.

In early years, a Primordial Pill expert from Falling Rosy Cloud Valley came to inspect; afterwards, they also returned it to us.

You want it, we'll give it to you, but we must simultaneously open the restriction with my second brother before we can take it out, you see...

Heng Xian produced a pill, flicked it out of the cage, and it landed beside Yang Jia.

The old man might be feeling terrible, he immediately grabbed it and swallowed it; the effect was good, and he would soon be able to get up.

He took a deep look at Heng Xian, then followed the family head Yang Yan out the door.

After leaving the room, Yang Jia hurried a few steps to catch up with Yang Yan: "Big brother! Did you really give the small drum to him?"

Yang Yan glanced at him: "Wasn't that what you promised?"

Yang Jia sighed: "This person is young, yet his character is steady; letting him escort, he constantly talks about reward, knowing nothing of humility—I just can't stand it!"

Yang Yan shook his head: "Cultivators mostly have eccentric temperaments; your courtly tricks won't work here!"

"Then... did you really give the Thunder Drum to him? Although the small drum cannot be driven, it absolutely contains profound mysteries incomprehensible to ordinary people; in the future it will surely be deciphered, reviving the Yang family!" Yang Jia urged anxiously.

Yang Yan said nothing.

The two hurried inside the main residence; Yang Yan took out a box, opened it, pulled out a portrait, and slapped it in front of Yang Jia.

Upon seeing it, Yang Jia couldn't help but startle: "Eh, isn't this the portrait of that kid Yan Chixia?"

Yang Yan said in a deep voice: "He is not Yan Chixia at all; he is Heng Xian!"

"Heng Xian?" Yang Jia puzzled.

Yang Yan said: "My maternal grandmother's family, that is, the Northern Frontier Song clan, is currently issuing a wanted notice for this person!"

Yang Jia frowned: "The kid who used demons to frame and kill Song Rufeng's two elder cousins?"

Yang Yan stood up: "Exactly! Though heaven offers a path, he refuses to take it; though hell has no gate, he insists on breaking in!"

"What should we do now?" Yang Jia asked.

Yang Yan said: "The Song clan's experts just left at noon; they probably haven't gone far. We'll first give the small drum to Heng Xian, rescue Yang Shu, Lan'er and the others."

Then we'll coax him to stay with gentle words, wait for the Song clan's experts to arrive, coordinate inside and out, kill him, and the small drum will naturally return.

This move not only helps the Northern Frontier Song clan avenge their grudge, but also earns the reward of the fourteen sects; our Yang clan's rise is imminent!

(End of chapter)