Chapter 57: Chapter Fifty-Seven: Variables

These words were chillingly brutal, and the indifference within them even startled Huang Hao, who had committed evil for years.

Not only were the so-called Miao South Seven astonished, but even the stunning woman wearing a veiled hat on the flying chariot furrowed her brow slightly and turned her gaze toward this direction.

As for the green-clad girl, she could not stop hopping in place, her entire round face turning purple-red.

“You kid, are you serious? What a heartless bastard!”

After recovering his composure, Huang Hao clapped his hands and laughed:

“Not to boast, but if this is true, you were born to be a perfect outlaw of the demonic path! You ought to feast with us, drink heartily, and plunder and kill without restraint! How about it? If you give me five hundred talisman coins as tribute, I’ll introduce you to the Old Ancestor—then the Miao South Seven will become the Miao South Eight, and we’ll all sleep with women and be brothers together, how’s that?”

Huang Hao was not joking—he genuinely entertained this thought.

After years of raiding and looting, what hadn’t he seen?

Those young knight-errants who, upon seeing beauty, surged with blood and qi, forgot their earlier cowardice, and charged forward to die…

Too many, far too many—even counting fingers and toes wouldn’t suffice.

Yet none ended well; who among them ever met a good end?

But someone as sensible as this was rare—even Huang Hao couldn’t help but admire such a fine specimen.

Hearing their elder brother’s invitation, the other Miao South Seven also erupted in clamor, laughing grotesquely, releasing black light and ghostly flames from their crowns, filling the air with foul, choking miasma.

At this moment, dozens more Qi Condensation cultivators flew in from all directions; seeing this scene, they silently cursed their luck and dared not act.

This was a route to Fuyu Marsh, and they were all bound there to attend the ceremony—but they had never expected to encounter this band of thieves from Miao South Peak.

The Old Ancestor of Miao South Peak was a Foundation Establishment third-layer cultivator, a veteran outlaw and madman who wielded the “Five Directions Rising Sun Flag,” having buried countless cultivators’ lives under its power, his infamy notorious.

After repeatedly escaping death thanks to the Old Ancestor’s intervention under the Purple Mansion’s high-level attack, his demonic aura had grown even stronger, forcing several minor sects within Dan Su State to bow their heads and obediently play the role of parrots.

“The Master of Huaiwu Cave is a Daoist Priest of the Dongxuan Realm! How dare the Miao South Monster act so recklessly—doesn’t he want his life?!”

One younger Qi Condensation cultivator, indignant, had not finished speaking when his companion urgently clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Hmph! Precisely because the Master of Huaiwu Cave has chosen Fuyu Marsh as his base and intends to rebuild the ‘Jin Valley Market’ here, he will surely sweep the land clean, smash temples, and level mountains! He’ll slaughter every demonic cultivator and demonic Daoist in the vicinity!”

Someone sneered in reply, whispering: “Only by doing so can the Jin Valley Market be kept peaceful, and only then will the southern region’s cultivators truly understand the Master of Huaiwu Cave’s methods!”

The young cultivator froze.

“Only thus can the Jin Valley Market remain tranquil, and let the southern cultivators once again know the Master of Huaiwu Cave’s power!”

The man continued: “But if that’s the case, how can the Miao South Monster possibly survive? He can only flee into exile. This current looting is merely his final desperate grab—just enough to secure his standing before he goes!”

“… ”

The young cultivator felt utterly hopeless:

“Then aren’t we just terribly unlucky, stumbling right into this pack of starving wolves? If only we’d taken another route, we might’ve avoided spending talisman coins… Heaven have mercy—I haven’t even glimpsed the Jin Valley Market, and now I’m losing my fortune! What kind of logic is this?!”

This time, no one answered him.

Several Miao South Peak cultivators seemed to have heard the voice; they cursed and flew over, reaching out to demand the ransom talisman coins.

The situation was stronger than man.

The many cultivators dared not resist; they could only swallow their anger, line up, and pay the talisman coins, enduring harsh humiliation in the process.

Meanwhile, on the other side.

Seeing no response from the flying boat for a long while, Huang Hao gradually lost patience and abandoned his desire to recruit.

“Kid, since you won’t answer, you must look down on the bandit trade!”

He swung his great axe and roared:

“I won’t blame you for your narrow vision—just come out, pay the ransom, and leave. Don’t stand here blocking our sight!”

“Talisman coins?”

A calm, quiet voice rang out.

Huang Hao fixed his gaze and saw a tall man step out from the flying boat; his tone was flat, utterly unruffled.

“How many talisman coins must I pay to buy my life?”

“You…”

Huang Hao suddenly felt an inexplicable surge of irritation and loathing.

Due to a flaw in his poison cultivation, he had nearly died; though the Miao South Old Monster had barely saved him, his face was ruined—and made even uglier.

His entire face was pitted with pus-filled sores, yellow and brown, the large abscesses nearly the size of turtle eggs, the small ones as big as fish roe, his sockets deep and his nose sunken, his visage hideous beyond words.

Over years, Huang Hao had come to despise handsome men; whenever he encountered one, he had to torture and kill them in every possible way to vent his inner malice and find relief.

Now, he saw the man emerging from the flying boat, his mouth, nose, and brow covered by a bamboo-and-wood mask, leaving only his eyes exposed.

Yet even from his physique and bearing alone, he was magnificent and noble, standing out like a crane among chickens—anyone seeing him would instantly sense his extraordinary nature.

Huang Hao’s expression darkened; seeing the veiled woman also turn her gaze toward him, his killing intent surged uncontrollably, no longer hidden.

“Easy, easy—you look kind-faced, I’ll give you a big discount.”

He sneered, and two Qi Condensation sixth-layer cultivators beside him immediately understood, smirking as they stepped forward, one on each side, flanking Chen Hang.

“Cut!”

As they drew near, both shouted in unison, each pulling out a talisman device and striking at Chen Hang’s arms.

The one on the left wielded a dark red beast-headed long knife; the moment it was summoned, it erupted in blinding crimson light, and a foul, acrid stench surged forth, intent on muddling the mind and numbing the spirit.

The one on the right held a yellow-skinned gourd, no bigger than a palm, yet seemingly as heavy as a boulder—its whistling rush through the air compressed the surrounding qi into stagnation; not even flesh and bone, let alone metal, could withstand this blow without collapsing into ruin!

Before the talisman devices even landed, the two cultivators’ faces already curled into smiles.

They were both sixth-layer Qi Condensation cultivators, with deep embryonic breath; caught off-guard, even a seventh- or eighth-layer Daoist might fall victim.

Had Huang Hao not preferred to personally torture his victims, they were confident this single strike alone would reduce the enemy to a puddle of flesh, completing a killing with ease.

But suddenly, Chen Hang merely shook his arms—and effortlessly deflected both talisman devices.

Before the two cultivators’ smiles could fade, Chen Hang’s face twisted into a sneer; his current Tai Su Jade Body realm, fifth-layer of the Xuan Realm, was already impervious to mid-grade talisman devices, let alone low-grade ones.

To attack him at this distance was to invite death.

Within inches, when the body and blood were clearly weak, how could they be so confident?

He lunged forward, his hand shooting out like lightning; in an instant, he seized their throats as if grabbing chicks, his fingers tightening slightly—then plucked off both heads, killing them instantly.

“You!”

Huang Hao was utterly horrified—he had never imagined two sixth-layer cultivators could die so easily, as if crushing two insects.

This was no feeble youth—he was a mountain-dwelling ancient demon, steeped in murderous aura, radiating fury to the heavens!

He had endured countless battles, his experience vast; sensing the situation was hopeless, he immediately pulled out a murky yellow-brown smoke, wrapping it around his body, and fled without hesitation.

Chen Hang sneered and hurled the thunder-and-fire thunderpearl he had already clenched in his sleeve; pouring unrestrained embryonic energy into it, it exploded with a deafening boom—just one glance, and Huang Hao was blasted into a bloody cough, tumbling from the clouds, life or death unknown.

His sudden outburst was like a streak of lightning; in an instant, he eliminated two sixth-layer cultivators and wounded Huang Hao so severely he spat blood, his fate unknown.

The Miao South Peak cultivators who had been demanding ransom talisman coins were stunned.

How much time had passed? The Miao South Seven had become the Miao South Five? If Huang Hao died too, they’d be down to Four!

The four exchanged glances, then simultaneously waved their hands, releasing a cluster of crimson-gold flames that scorched the high-altitude clouds into brilliant radiance, waves of searing heat rushing toward them.

Chen Hang reached back, retrieved the flying boat into his Qiankun pouch, and without using any talisman device, merely focused his spirit and exhaled sharply, roaring aloud like thunder rolling across the earth!

Boom!

A violent, overwhelming aura instantly swept across all directions, scattering the clouds, causing unbearable pain in the ears.

The crimson-gold flames lasted only an instant before collapsing into ruin; the four felt dizzy and nauseous, their chests constricted.

Their embryonic breath spiraled out of control, twisting through their meridians like knives cutting flesh—they could barely maintain their flight aura.

Just as they staggered to regain their footing, another titanic wave of qi slammed into their faces—pure white, blinding.

“It’s over…”

Their faces twisted in despair, hearts dead.

Chen Hang roared three more times; the four finally screamed in agony, tumbling from the clouds, landing in a dazed, broken heap.

“Spare me…”

One yellow-faced cultivator coughed blood, struggling to rise—but before he could gather even a breath of embryonic qi, Chen Hang had already landed before him.

The moment fear flickered across his face, Chen Hang lightly slapped him—his skull sank into his chest, becoming a grotesque, bloody gourd.

Chen Hang repeated the act, raising his hand and killing the other man nearby, his corpse splattered across the ground.

Two flicks of his palm, and two Qi Condensation cultivators lay dead.

His cold, heartless demeanor terrified the remaining two Miao South Peak cultivators—and the dozen or so cultivators blocked on the road trembled in fear, daring not even to breathe, terrified he might kill them too in his bloodlust.

“The Tai Su Jade Body’s performance in combat is quite impressive—no wonder just one Tong Gaolu could make the Rong Clan tremble.”

Chen Hang lightly brushed his sleeve, thinking inwardly: “With this body alone, few in the Qi Condensation realm can match me. To condense ‘Divine Talisman Fire’ from such a body is as easy as reaching into a pocket—excellent! Excellent!”

He continued walking forward; the two remaining Miao South Peak disciples instantly panicked.

“Master, spare me, spare me! I beg to become your slave or servant, willing to serve you!”

Of the two remaining, one was a dark-skinned, burly man; the other, a plump, beautiful woman with alluring charm.

The man had lighter injuries; seeing Chen Hang approach coldly, he ignored the female cultivator’s plea, limping away in frantic panic, nearly crawling on all fours.

“Master…”

The woman, her legs broken, forced a smile, pitifully pleading: “Please, Master, have mercy on me.”

Chen Hang paused his step; seeing her left hand hidden in her sleeve—clearly concealing a talisman device—he smiled faintly, raising an eyebrow.

Seeing Chen Hang halt, the woman felt a surge of escape from death; she looked up, startled and delighted, and saw the man before her was tall.

Though his face was masked in bamboo and wood, his dark, deep eyes gleamed like polished lacquer—clear as snow on a mountain peak, as bright as moonlight and breeze.

In a daze, the woman felt that even with only his eyes visible, he carried an air of gentle elegance, subtly drawing one’s heart toward him.

“Perhaps… following him wouldn’t be so bad?”

She thought inwardly; as Chen Hang stepped closer, she unconsciously loosened her grip on the talisman device in her sleeve.

As their forms passed each other, the beautiful woman collapsed.

Her head tilted at a grotesque angle; even in death, her face retained an expression of utter disbelief.

Chen Hang casually released his grip, glanced toward the direction the dark, burly man had fled, then turned into light and pursued.

Less than half a stick of incense later, he returned, a fresh bloodstain now on his robe.

After collecting all the Qiankun bags belonging to Miao Nanfeng and the other cultivators, he turned his gaze toward where Huang Hao had fallen.

On a small hill.

The veiled maiden held a delicate treasure mirror, projecting a Golden Light Illusion Array that trapped Huang Hao within. No matter how he charged left or right, he only spun uselessly within a ten-step radius, like a furious caged beast.

Seeing Chen Hang approach, she disbanded the Golden Light Illusion Array and spoke coldly:

“This younger brother seems to harbor deep murderous intent. I deliberately spared his life so you could kill him yourself—how about it?”

“Not deep murderous intent—just extreme poverty. Occasionally robbing the rich to aid the poor counts as slaying demons and exterminating evil.”

Chen Hang did not bother to argue; he smiled faintly, and a Tai Xi hand leapt from the crown of his head, crossing dozens of zhang in an instant to seize Huang Hao with brutal force!

BOOM!

Huang Hao had barely escaped the Golden Light Illusion Array when he saw the Tai Xi hand hurtling toward him; he hastily formed a seal and condensed a ring of crimson protective aura around himself.

But the Tai Xi hand crushed it with a single squeeze—Huang Hao was struck midair and flung sideways, blood spurting from nose and mouth.

“It seems all seven of us from Miao Nan will perish here today. I was wrong—my vision was too narrow…”

Huang Hao rose, his clothes torn, gazing sorrowfully at the corpses of his fellow disciples, then smiled bitterly at Chen Hang:

“Before death, I have one last question. You seemed unwilling to meddle before—I provoked you by targeting you with murderous intent… Had I simply let you go then, would you still have struck?”

“Who knows?”

Chen Hang spoke calmly, withdrew the Thunderfire Thunderbolt Pearl, tossed it skyward, and countless roars erupted in succession, one louder than the next.

Thunder and fire clashed in relentless strikes; after barely holding out for half a moment, Huang Hao exhausted all his techniques, his Tai Xi energy nearly gone.

A fierce glint flashed in his eyes—he pulled a mid-grade talisman artifact from his Qiankun bag, shaped like a Dragon Fang Tower Ship, and hurled it toward Chen Hang!

“Self-destruct?”

Sensing the chaotic, turbulent spiritual energy within the talisman, Chen Hang recognized it well—he flickered and vanished in a flash of light, retreating dozens of zhang away.

The veiled maiden likewise retreated, floating gracefully to land near Chen Hang.

Next instant!

A torrent of blazing light exploded with a deafening “BOOM!”—crackling and roaring, leveling the entire hilltop. The shockwave rippled outward violently, forcing Chen Hang to retreat further to avoid the blast.

The explosion lasted for dozens of breaths before fading; when the light finally vanished, Huang Hao’s body was gone.

“Decisive, indeed—but still, death could not be escaped.”

Chen Hang removed his shattered bamboo-and-wood mask and tossed it carelessly to the ground, his expression turning cold.

Nearby, the maiden’s veil had been blown off, revealing a radiant, lotus-bright face—stunning as a celestial goddess from the Heavenly Palace, her eyes and brows steeped in deep allure.

“You…”

Seeing Chen Hang discard his face-covering, the maiden felt a flicker of curiosity.

She had never seen a man like this—his features, compared to her own, were no less exquisite.

This… was quite interesting.

Chen Hang glanced at her indifferently, then raised a finger without expression, drawing a single drop of Huang Hao’s blood toward him.

At that moment, the scattered cultivators who had been heading to Fuyu Lake for the ceremony erupted in a commotion.

They had been stunned by the talisman’s self-destruction, but now, as the light faded,

they saw the man and woman standing side by side—both faces as radiant as dawn reflecting on snow, like ancient divine beings from Mount Gusha, clothed in clouds and mist, unmatched in the world, and they could not help but gasp in awe.

“You take his blood—to perform a curse technique?”

The maiden watched as Chen Hang unrolled a painting—a faceless woman. As he dripped the blood onto it, Huang Hao’s features slowly emerged stroke by stroke, dressed in the woman’s attire, appearing grotesquely eerie.

“Your talisman is crudely forged—seventeen seals, four incomplete. It can only kill Qi Condensation cultivators; it cannot pierce a Foundation Establishment cultivator’s protective true qi.”

The maiden shook her head lightly.

Chen Hang said nothing.

This Qing E painting had been acquired from Tong Gaolu—just drip the blood of your target onto it, and their face would gradually appear; after a certain time, when the face was fully drawn, the target would die.

But this talisman was slow, inconvenient, useless in direct combat—Chen Hang rarely used it.

“Why didn’t you spare that woman just now? I thought she had some beauty.”

Seeing Chen Hang remain silent, the maiden spoke again: “You—”

“Is your sister usually this talkative?”

Chen Hang turned to face her for the first time, speaking calmly:

“I’m performing a ritual. Please be quiet.”

The maiden widened her eyes, as if unable to believe what she’d just heard.

Only when she saw his gaze remained as still as a calm lake did she feel both annoyed and amused; she turned away, stepping several paces off.

At that moment, the plump girl in green robes hopped over.

She glanced between her mistress and Chen Hang, tilted her head, clearly lost in thought.

Half a cup of tea later, as Huang Hao’s face was nearly fully rendered on the Qing E painting, a piercing, agonized scream tore across the sky—full of despair, so chilling it made the hair on one’s skin stand on end.

Chen Hang looked up, his expression shifting slightly.

He and the maiden exchanged a glance—both saw shock in the other’s eyes.

“What is that?”

Combined.

Thank you to the Demon Lord’s Intervention Office for the 1500-point tip, to Laozi’s Close Friend for the 200-point tip, to OJLO for the 200-point tip, to Kuazhang for the 100-point tip, to Wondrous Foodlight for the 100-point tip, and to the Book Fan for the 100-point tip.

Happy Lunar New Year to everyone!!!