Chapter Twenty

Have his way...?

Everyone present was taken aback. When they understood Wen Yuan's meaning, their expressions turned ugly.

"Absurd!" He Ming's eyebrows shot up. He shouted sternly, his face contorted with undisguised disgust.

As expected of a demon, naturally lascivious and debauched. Even after being captured and thrown in the dungeon, tortured so severely he was at death's door, he still had the nerve to think about such filthy matters!

Did Wen Yuan have no awareness of being a prisoner at all? What did he think Qingyang Tianzong was? Some kind of brothel from the mortal realm?

This was a tremendous insult to the sect!

"Impossible!" He Ming refused decisively, leaving no room for negotiation.

Now that they had caught Wen Yuan, there was no way they'd let him go again. His confession was only a matter of time. The initiative was in their hands. There was no need to lower themselves to bargain with Wen Yuan, especially for such a sordid deal.

"Cough." Wen Yuan's bloody body shook as he coughed up the blood in his mouth. The red and white matter from his eye socket gushed down, covering half his face, looking disgusting and terrifying.

"I haven't... even said who yet." Wen Yuan smirked, looking as if he held all the cards. "Why are you refusing so quickly?"

During the year and a half he had spent mingling in the outer sect, Wen Yuan had gotten a pretty good grasp of the situation in Qingyang Tianzong. He paid especially close attention to anything concerning Cen Yan, not letting even the smallest detail slip by.

He had witnessed how He Ming and the others treated that person. He was confident that He Ming would agree to his request.

After all, demons plundered, killed, and committed all kinds of atrocities. How many people in the Immortal Sects had suffered because of them? There was a long-standing grudge between the demon race and the Immortal Sects. A hundred years ago, the main reason the Immortal Sects agreed to activate the mountain-guarding formations was to protect sect disciples from demonic attacks.

The Immortal Sects all hated the demons, wishing they could drink their blood and eat their flesh. If they could get more information about the demons and strike at their heart, eradicating this scourge of the cultivation world wouldn't be out of the question.

Trading an insignificant mortal for crucial information about the demons—no matter how one looked at it, it was a very advantageous deal.

Thinking about how he could have his way with the fiancé of the renowned Cen Yan before he died, Wen Yuan felt a tingling sensation in his fingertips and scalp, his heart pounding wildly.

Whether from the pain or excitement, his chest heaved violently, and his breathing grew labored. His rough, heavy breaths echoed in the dungeon, impossible to ignore.

"It's impossible no matter who it is!" He Ming's disgust deepened. He wouldn't budge an inch, giving Wen Yuan no chance. "You're not qualified to negotiate with us!"

The mountain-guarding formation wasn't open yet. The person Wen Yuan was asking for could only be a disciple of the sect. Whether inner or outer sect, they would never trade a disciple's honor for a few words of confession from a demon whose truthfulness was impossible to verify. They hadn't sunk that low!

"No hurry." Wen Yuan panted heavily, red bloodshot veins in his eyes. He spoke haltingly: "You'll... agree eventually."

The dungeon floor was slick with cooling blood. The thick, nauseating smell assaulted their nostrils. Wen Yuan laboriously turned his remaining eye, scanning the figures at the dungeon entrance. After a moment, he focused on the grim-faced young man in blue robes.

His grin widened, showing bloodstained teeth. He smiled meaningfully at Xu Ziyang: "I don't have many... good qualities... but I'm cheap and stubborn. I'll wait... for the day you come... begging me. You know who I want. When you come... begging, don't bring... the wrong person."

Xu Ziyang's last trace of a gentle smile faded. He looked at the barely human figure on the torture rack from a distance. The warmth in his eyes vanished, leaving only cold light.

"Delusional!" He Ming's response was the same. "No matter who it is, it's impossible! Give up that idea!"

"Hall Master Yan." He Ming grabbed his beard, turning back to look at Yan Zhan. His fierce eyes blazed with anger, his brows tightly furrowed. "Use every means necessary, no matter the cost, to pry open his mouth!"

Daring to have designs on a disciple of Qingyang Tianzong was simply courting death!

Yan Zhan glanced sideways at He Ming, his eyes devoid of warmth: "You don't have to tell me."

He wasn't about to let Wen Yuan off. He had said he would make Wen Yuan realize that resistance was the most foolish course of action in front of him.

He Ming flung his sleeve and left with his hands behind his back.

Xu Ziyang bowed slightly to Yan Zhan. His deep, dark eyes glanced heavily towards the cell before he raised his foot to follow He Ming.

Their footsteps faded, and the dungeon soon fell silent again.

Yan Zhan gestured for a disciple to close the iron-barred door. He flicked the silver knife in his hand and walked back into the cell. Before long, the depths of the dungeon echoed with agonized wails.

Leaving the Disciplinary Hall, He Ming's face was still black as ink, the fury around him almost tangible.

Xu Ziyang, dressed in green robes, was gentle and refined, his expression already back to normal. He suddenly stopped and said warmly: "Elder, this disciple has some matters to attend to, so I won't return to the main hall with you."

He Ming was too furious to think much of it. He waved his hand to indicate he understood.

Xu Ziyang bowed to He Ming and then headed in the opposite direction without looking back.

-

Wusong Residence.

Mist swirled all around. A tall figure walked slowly into the residence. The dappled shadows of the trees crisscrossing the corridor cast patches of light and dark on his blue-green robe.

Dong—

A sudden knock at the door. Chu Rong instinctively looked up to see a tall, upright figure standing in the doorway. A familiar, gentle, low voice came from outside: "It's me."

Xu Ziyang?

Chu Rong's eyes lowered, his long eyelashes casting a shadow over his mask. Why was the main lead here instead of continuing to develop a relationship with Cen Yan?

Chu Rong's eyelashes fluttered slightly. He suppressed the confusion in his eyes and walked slowly to open the door.

Chu Rong didn't let Xu Ziyang enter. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. His fair, slender fingers, with neatly trimmed nails gleaming in the afternoon sun, held his pose. He looked up at Xu Ziyang, his captivating, shimmering eyes holding a hint of seduction: "Something you need?"

Xu Ziyang's eyes lowered slightly, looking at the masked man before him. His gaze was dark and heavy, as if scrutinizing him, or perhaps holding something more complex: "The demon spy who took you hostage a few days ago has been caught."

Chu Rong was familiar with the plot. Even though he hadn't been to the front hall, he knew exactly what was happening outside. He knew the Disciplinary Hall was struggling with Wen Yuan's stubbornness. But what did that have to do with Xu Ziyang coming here?

His black hair cascaded over his shoulders like clouds. His tone was casual, as if he didn't care at all: "And?"

This reaction was somewhat unexpected for Xu Ziyang. Wen Yuan had nearly sexually assaulted him. Didn't Chu Rong care?

The darkness in Xu Ziyang's eyes deepened. His voice was calm, his tone unchanged: "The Disciplinary Hall interrogated him for a day and a night, and he still won't confess. This has never happened before."

Expected.

Chu Rong thought to himself. What was a day and a night? In the original text, this spy could hold out even longer. It wasn't until Pei Zhan emerged from seclusion, killed him cleanly, and used the Soul Searching Art to extract Wen Yuan's memories that this standoff ended.

The Soul Searching Art was an extremely sinister spell in the cultivation world. It forcibly extracted memories by directly seizing the spiritual consciousness of the target. Once cast, the target's spiritual consciousness would dissipate, leaving them a mindless, feelingless puppet, worse than death.

Demons loved using the Soul Searching Art. Almost none of the Immortal Sect cultivators who fell into their hands escaped it. A hundred years ago, before the mountain-guarding formations were established, the demons used this method to plunder countless cultivation resources from the Immortal Sects. The Immortal Sects loathed the Soul Searching Art and had therefore explicitly forbidden its use.

In recent years, relations among the Immortal Sects had been tense. Using it would be like handing them a weapon against Qingyang Tianzong. No one in their right mind would think of using the Soul Searching Art.

But who was Pei Zhan?

He acted willfully and never followed the rules. This move was perfectly in character for him.

Chu Rong was lost in thought when he heard Xu Ziyang say: "Just now, Elder He and I went to the dungeon to see him. He said he would confess, but on one condition."

He would confess?

Wait!

This doesn't match the plot, does it?

Chu Rong snapped back to attention, a hint of surprise on his beautiful face: "The spy is willing to confess?"

However, there was no response for a long time.

Chu Rong looked up with his long lashes, only to see Xu Ziyang staring at him darkly. The man stood with his back to the light; the sunlight from outside cast half his face in light and half in shadow, making his jawline look extremely sharp.

The dark currents in his eyes were like an overturned inkstone, black and bottomless, inexplicably unsettling.

Chu Rong's back instinctively tensed slightly as he heard the man ask: "Why don't you ask what the condition is?"

What did the conditions Wen Yuan was negotiating with Qingyang Tianzong have to do with him? Chu Rong didn't even think before saying: "Anyway, whatever it is, you can't agree to it."

Xu Ziyang's deep gaze lingered on Chu Rong's mask for a moment. He smiled gently, and that oppressive feeling receded like the tide, disappearing without a trace so quickly it seemed like Chu Rong's imagination.

"Indeed." Xu Ziyang smiled, smoothly changing the subject: "Why haven't I seen you around the inner sect lately?"

Chu Rong had been able to move freely within the sect and had frequented the inner sect for three years. It was only in the past couple of days that he had rarely been seen out.

As a reader, Chu Rong knew exactly what Qingyang Tianzong was like. He had finally managed to pull the original owner out of the mire and didn't want to wade back in.

"I will." Chu Rong replied evasively: "Is there anything else?"

The hint of dismissal was hardly subtle.

"No." Xu Ziyang smiled good-naturedly: "I just came to let you know, so you can rest easy."

Although Chu Rong was suspicious, he was undeniably a defenseless mortal. Having been taken by a demon spy and trapped in the secret realm for three days, he must have been somewhat scared.

Chu Rong's fair face behind the mask showed a flicker of confusion. He was baffled. So Xu Ziyang had specifically come to Wusong Residence just to say these few insignificant words?

-

The next day.

The sect's Master Selection Ceremony arrived as scheduled.

In the main hall of the main peak, Lian Ci sat high in the main seat. On either side below him sat He Ming, Yan Zhan, and Xu Ziyang.

Cen Yan led the two disciples who had participated in the test earlier into the hall and respectfully bowed to Lian Ci: "Sect Leader, the people are here."

Lian Ci nodded and looked at the two disciples: "The path of cultivation is long. From today onward, you are inner sect disciples of Qingyang Tianzong. Apart from Cen Yan, you may choose one of the people here as your master and cultivate under them."

He Ming valued Cen Yan more than the apple of his eye. If Cen Yan were to take on disciples, he would be the first to object.

Naturally, He Ming and Yan Zhan were possibilities. Xu Ziyang had long been qualified to take disciples, but few had entered the inner sect in recent years. Since Elder Lin passed away, his lineage had declined, so Xu Ziyang had never taken a disciple.

"Sect Leader." Xu Ziyang stood up, bowed, and stepped forward. His voice was gentle: "This disciple only wishes to guard my master's Xuanjian Pavilion and currently has no intention of taking on disciples. I ask the Sect Leader to grant this."

Elder Lin had treated Xu Ziyang like his own son. Xu Ziyang had said the same thing at the Master Selection Ceremony a year and a half ago. Lian Ci waved his hand, not forcing the issue: "I know your bond with Elder Lin is deep. Very well, since you have no intention, I won't force you."

Lian Ci looked at the two disciples and spoke again: "Choose from the remaining people."

The two disciples respectfully agreed. One chose to apprentice under Lian Ci, the other under He Ming. Yan Zhan, as usual, was ignored.

—The Disciplinary Hall's dungeon was dark and sunless year-round. Yan Zhan's skin was very pale, which only intensified the murderous aura around him. One glance was enough to make one's heart tremble with fear. Which disciple would dare get close to him?

He Ming and Lian Ci accepted the disciples' apprenticeship and rewarded them with some spirit pills and magical implements—Qingyang Tianzong's cultivation resources were limited, so the quality of the gifts wasn't high, but it was far better than the single low-grade spirit stone a month for outer sect disciples.

The two disciples were thrilled and accepted with profuse thanks.

After the disciples withdrew, Lian Ci explained some matters concerning the inner sect, then asked: "Hall Master Yan, did the spy confess?"

Yan Zhan's expression was dark, his brows heavy with gloom. His voice was cold: "No."

Yan Zhan had to admit this spy's backbone was indeed hard. Nearly all the skin on his body had been peeled off, akin to death by a thousand cuts, yet he still hadn't uttered a single word.

Lian Ci frowned and was about to speak when a spirit sword suddenly shot into the main hall from outside, embedding itself deep in a pillar. The sword's aura was fierce, its body humming with vibration. Strands of spiritual energy lingered around it, and a golden tassel hung from the pommel.

Seeing that tassel, Lian Ci's expression changed dramatically. He shot up from his seat, his hands trembling slightly. His dignified face showed obvious excitement.

This, this was...?

"Master." A low voice came from outside the hall, the tone drawn out, lazy, with a natural nonchalance.

The others turned their heads to see a tall figure move like lightning, covering a dozen feet in one stride, appearing in the main hall and nonchalantly sitting down in an empty seat.

"Pei Zhan." He Ming, who was closest to the man, said his name.

Pei Zhan turned his head slightly. He had sword-like brows, starry eyes, and extremely handsome features. His black and gold-flecked eyes glanced over, arrogant and imposing. In an instant, everything around him seemed dull in comparison.

Author's Note:

Sorry for the wait~

I must reiterate: I cannot guarantee it will meet everyone's expectations. If you dislike it, please stop reading promptly. Thank you, dear readers, for reading. Wishing you a pleasant life and happiness every day.

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