Chapter 83: The Indifferent Shen Qingyun

Zhou Ze had not expected to bump into Wu Xier while making his escape. With Wu Xier’s fiery temper, she was set off at the slightest spark. Finding a stranger here, and moreover, one who had used the Concealment Technique to hide himself—how could she possibly let him go?

Fortunately, Zhou Ze had already wrapped a black scarf around his face and swapped his original Daoist robe for black clothes. This prevented him from being exposed the moment the Concealment Technique failed.

Yet, such precautions made it obvious he was up to something shady!

Seeing that he was in no hurry to remove the black scarf, Wu Xier’s gaze grew even colder, spiritual energy quietly gathering around her.

“I advise you to step aside. If we really come to blows, neither of us will come out well,” Zhou Ze said, deliberately lowering his voice to make it sound deep and unfamiliar.

“You still dare to talk about fighting?”

Wu Xier struck suddenly, giving Zhou Ze no time to react. Her long whip flashed a scarlet light in the air, slicing down with a sharp, lethal force.

Zhou Ze’s pupils contracted. He could feel this blow was stronger than her usual attacks. If he took it head-on, it would surely leave its mark.

Yet Wu Xier seemed not to intend hitting him directly. The whip missed, landing with a crack beside him.

“That was just a warning. Take off your scarf!” Wu Xier demanded, her voice clear and forceful.

A porcelain vial appeared in Zhou Ze’s hand. He glanced at Wu Xier and said, “Catch me if you can!” With that, he smashed the vial to the ground. As it shattered, gray smoke billowed up around Zhou Ze.

The smoke enveloped Zhou Ze alone, swirling without dispersing.

Wu Xier’s first thought was that he meant to flee. Charging into the smoke, she found no trace of Zhou Ze. Just as anger flared, her eyes suddenly widened as she realized something was wrong.

Her consciousness grew foggy, her limbs heavy and unresponsive. Wu Xier could no longer stand, collapsing softly to the ground.

The smoke was poisoned!

Fortunately, it only disabled, not lethal.

“Sister Wu, you can’t blame me for this,” Zhou Ze muttered, stepping over to where Wu Xier lay. He looked down at her delicate features, a trace of infatuation flickering in his eyes. But now was not the time to linger. This place would soon be discovered; he had to leave quickly.

“You—”

Wu Xier bit her lip, her voice—no longer disguised—sounded familiar to her own ears.

“Who are you!?”

A furious shout rang out suddenly. Zhou Ze’s body, just beginning to relax, tensed at once. He turned toward the voice, pupils shrinking sharply.

He saw Ling Xiao charging over, his face a mask of rage, murderous intent nearly tangible as it locked onto Zhou Ze.

Go!

Zhou Ze hesitated no longer, turning and vanishing into the shadows.

“Damn!”

Seeing he was too late, Ling Xiao stamped his foot in frustration, then quickly looked down at Wu Xier lying on the ground. The anger on his face vanished, replaced by deep anxiety.

“Xier, are you alright?”

“Ling…”

Seeing the anxious face so close, Wu Xier finally relaxed. Her lips parted, but after saying one word, her eyelids grew heavier. No matter how she fought to stay awake, she could not help but slip into unconsciousness.

Watching Wu Xier close her eyes, Ling Xiao was startled, his broad hand turning ice cold. He checked her breath and realized she was only asleep. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Scooping Wu Xier into his arms, Ling Xiao glanced once in the direction Zhou Ze had fled, suspicion flickering in his eyes, but he shook his head and carried Wu Xier back the way he had come...

Back at the camp, Ling Xiao found everyone already gathered. He raised his brows slightly, set Wu Xier gently under a tree, and joined the group.

“I never expected something like this, and from one of our own, no less!”

A disciple pounded his chest in dismay, clearly unable to accept what had happened.

“Which team was he in?”

Shen Qingyun’s gaze was calm, as if nothing had happened at all.

“Liu Mo joined Senior Brother Gu’s team,” someone replied. Shen Qingyun’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Gu Yang, then.”

“It can’t be Senior Brother Gu’s orders!”

A voice protested from among the disciples of Bamboo Peak. Gu Yang was well-respected; everyone knew his character. None of them wanted to believe he could be behind this, or that the infiltrator was one of their own.

“Then tell me, how did Liu Mo end up among us?” Shen Qingyun looked calmly at the speaker. “As a team leader, you can’t even keep track of your own members?”

After a pause, Shen Qingyun continued, “Besides, there were three infiltrators.”

“What, three!?”

Everyone was shocked. One was from their own peak—but who were the other two?

“Senior Brother Shen, what about the other two?” Su Ye asked.

“One of them—Brother Feng went after him.”

Many nodded in understanding; no wonder most people had gathered but Feng Chuxun was missing.

“If Brother Feng went after one, what about the other?” Su Ye pressed on, curiosity burning.

“The other escaped,” came the answer, not from Shen Qingyun but from Ling Xiao, immediately drawing all eyes.

Ling Xiao’s expression was calm. “Sister Wu encountered him first. By the time I arrived, she had already been knocked out.”

“Worried about her safety, I didn’t pursue him.”

At the mention of Wu Xier, many of the group grew agitated.

“She was knocked out? Was she hurt?”

“He dared attack Sister Wu? He must have a death wish!”

As the crowd reacted, Ling Xiao remained calm. “She’s fine. Only asleep.”

Hearing Wu Xier was unharmed, everyone finally relaxed.

But that relief was short-lived, for Feng Chuxun returned at that moment.

“Brother Feng…”

Someone caught sight of him and recoiled, unable to look away despite themselves. Only Su Ye scrambled to his feet and rushed over, seeing Feng Chuxun’s faltering steps, wanting to help but unsure how.

Anxious and flustered, Su Ye shouted, “Brother Shen, come quickly!” Then he turned to the others, yelling, “What are you waiting for? Come help!”

The disciples, startled by Su Ye’s outburst, hesitated. On any other day, they’d have scolded him for improper manners, but now, faced with Feng Chuxun’s state, they were left speechless.

Shen Qingyun, who had been questioning Liu Mo to no avail, hurried over at Su Ye’s call. Even he could not help but tense in shock at the sight.

Feng Chuxun’s Daoist robe was in tatters, each shoulder slashed with two ghastly sword wounds. Worse, a sword pierced clear through his chest, blood dripping endlessly from the blade.

Such a grave injury would have felled anyone, yet he remained standing, dragging an unconscious man by the collar.

Reaching Feng Chuxun, Shen Qingyun saw that his eyes were vacant, his body stiff as a corpse as he dragged the man forward, step by step.

Shen Qingyun’s gaze turned icy. He grabbed the sword hilt and pulled it free in a gush of blood. Feng Chuxun, as if losing his last support, collapsed at once.

Shen Qingyun caught him, quickly tapping several points on his chest to stanch the bleeding in an instant.

Only then did he turn his attention to the man Feng Chuxun had dragged. The man’s face was fully exposed for all to see.

“Do you know him?” Shen Qingyun’s tone was even, but seething with suppressed fury.

“Yes…”

The disciples of Bamboo Peak nodded, for this man was one of their own. With two traitors revealed, the identity of the third was all but certain.

“Very good. Since you all know him, don’t blame me for disregarding our brotherhood.”

Shen Qingyun gave a cold smile as he looked at them.

“Chief Shen, there must be some misunderstanding…”

Even now, they struggled to accept the truth.

“Misunderstanding?”

Shen Qingyun’s voice was cold as he stared, his expression and eyes unrecognizable, terrifying even the Qiao sisters.

This Shen Qingyun was truly fearsome; just one glance from him made them feel as if plunged into ice.

“Tell me what misunderstanding there could be. Did he stab himself with that sword?”

“I—I…”

The earlier speaker was cowed by Shen Qingyun’s demeanor, shrinking back. “That’s not what I meant…”

“Then keep quiet.”

Shen Qingyun continued, “Before, I let your behavior slide. But now, after all this, you’re still trying to delude yourselves?”

He gave a frosty laugh. “Anyone who speaks further—I’ll assume you’re with them. The consequence will be the same as his!”

With that, Shen Qingyun drove the sword in his hand straight into the man’s abdomen. The agony brought the unconscious man to with a scream, but he soon fell back into oblivion.

Shen Qingyun twisted the blade, mangling flesh and blood. Many could not bear to watch, turning away. The man was ruined; even if he survived, his core was destroyed—never to cultivate again unless by some miracle.

Some could not stand it, some felt injustice for the victim. One stared at Shen Qingyun and shouted, “You’ve gone too far! Destroying his core is worse than killing him!”

Shen Qingyun looked back, sneering, “By your logic, I should have just killed him, then?”

The man blanched, stammering, “That’s not what I meant!”

He spoke quickly, but Shen Qingyun’s sword was swifter. With a flash of cold light, a head tumbled to the ground, blood gushing from the neck like a fountain—yet, held in check by some unseen force.

Everyone was stunned. Witnessing such violence up close was a shock beyond words.