What a cheap trick

In the Silent Bone Forest, far in the distance...

"Truly worthy of being a disciple of Brother Chu. Just a glance, and for a moment, I almost mistook your second disciple for a pureblooded demonic cultivator of sanguine energy."

Daoist Yuyang sighed in amazement as he observed the overwhelming sanguine aura ahead.

Chu Xingchen responded sternly, "Enough of that talk. My second disciple practices orthodox Daoist methods. He doesn’t appreciate such remarks."

"Speaking of which, which sect’s orthodox methods are these? The colors are so... vibrant."

"Mine."

"Your second disciple doesn’t eat people, does he?"

"What kind of orthodox Daoist method involves cannibalism? My disciple just has a fierce appearance. Your Taidao Sect has the Heart-Observing Art—can’t you tell whether his intentions are good or evil?" Chu Xingchen shot him a sidelong glance. "Keep spouting nonsense, and I’ll have my second disciple come eat you."

Daoist Yuyang shrugged. The Taidao Sect did indeed possess the Heart-Observing Art, which could discern a person’s subjective inclinations toward good or evil—though it only worked on cultivators weaker than the user.

In his eyes, the technique was somewhat useless, mostly employed to screen potential disciples.

After all, subjective morality was often murky; no one was a flawless, purely righteous saint.

But when it came to sanguine cultivators who refined their techniques using living humans, the distinction was glaringly obvious.

A single glance would reveal the inky blackness of their malevolence.

Yet, in Daoist Yuyang’s sight, Li Xingtian—despite his overwhelming sanguine aura—was not black at all. If anything, he leaned toward white.

With just those two glances, even if Li Xingtian did consume humans, Daoist Yuyang would assume he only devoured those who deserved death.

Still, opportunities to tease Chu Xingchen were rare—usually, it was the other way around.

Daoist Yuyang wasn’t about to let this chance slip.

He continued, "Your second disciple plays the villain well. He’s inherited your flair for it."

Chu Xingchen didn’t even lift his gaze as he watched a streak of rainbow light shatter his disciple’s sanguine blade.

Then there was that... creature, neither human nor beast, who had claimed Li Xingtian smelled delicious.

Chu Xingchen spoke, "They’re here. Now it’s your turn to play the villain. There’s no way he came alone. To avoid alerting them, you go first. I’ll cover you."

"Me?" Daoist Yuyang turned to him skeptically.

Chu Xingchen clapped him on the shoulder. "This is Taidao Sect territory. It’s only fitting for you to intervene. If Xu Jin shows up, they’ll realize it’s a trap and bolt. Why else would I arrange for you to come here with me?"

"The same logic applies to me. So you’re the best choice. Later, stand right beside my second disciple. Let them feel what it’s like when the referee steps onto the field and rigs the game—show them just how dark the world can be."

"What kind of nonsense are you spouting now...?"

Daoist Yuyang sighed softly. He didn’t fully grasp Chu Xingchen’s analogy, but he got the gist.

He just worried the Taidao Sect’s reputation might not remain so spotless after today.

With that, his figure transformed into a streak of rainbow light, streaking toward Li Xingtian’s position.

"So this is why you dared come here to die—you called in some worthless backup."

Li Xingtian hovered midair, his tone unyielding despite the masked cultivator’s overwhelming presence. The man’s aura suggested at least a Nascent Soul-level cultivation, and unlike Donggua, he was no fraud.

But Li Xingtian wasn’t worried.

Because right now, it wasn’t him who was surrounded—it was Donggua and his lackeys.

And while Donggua had backing, so did Li Xingtian—his was just far stronger.

The masked man wasted no time. In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance, his murky, ink-black primordial energy bearing down on Li Xingtian.

Li Xingtian didn’t flinch. He’d already sensed a force behind him—one faster than the masked man’s assault.

"Delicious? That’s a strange preference."

Donggua had just hauled Xigua—now missing half his body—out of a crater when he witnessed the scene unfold.

Daoist Yuyang’s fist lashed out, sending the masked man flying before raising a hand to summon crackling thunderbolts.

The terrifying power and crushing spiritual pressure left no doubt—this was the real Daoist Yuyang.

As his voice echoed, the battlefield fell into stunned silence.

Donggua’s eyes widened in disbelief.

He recognized Daoist Yuyang. But why was he here?!

For a moment, Donggua’s mind went blank—until he whipped his head around to glare at Cui Hao in the distance.

Among their group, Cui Hao was the only one with any connection to Daoist Yuyang!

In Donggua’s furious gaze, Cui Hao’s usual infuriating smirk had vanished, replaced by a calm, almost serene expression—which, at this moment, only made him seem even more insufferable.

There was no doubt: Cui Hao had betrayed them.

Donggua had lied to their superiors, and now Cui Hao had deceived Daoist Yuyang?

Rage twisted Donggua’s features. She no longer cared why Cui Hao had turned traitor—she just wanted him dead.

"Kill him!" she transmitted to the Golden Core cultivator she’d stationed beside Cui Hao—a trusted subordinate, her little surprise for him.

At her command, the man was supposed to eliminate Cui Hao immediately.

But the transmission ended...

And the Golden Core cultivator didn’t move. Instead, he flashed the same damn smile as Cui Hao.

Had this man been taking orders from Cui Hao all along?

Were none of her subordinates actually loyal to her?!

Donggua’s fury surged, threatening to overwhelm her.

"Run."

Xigua’s voice snapped her back to reality. She turned to see him—his body now a mangled mess—gritting his teeth.

"Don’t think. Just go. Now’s our only chance."

Donggua forced herself to calm down, her gaze flicking back to Daoist Yuyang.

With him here, fighting was pointless.

Even if their superiors had sent someone capable of opposing Daoist Yuyang, none would dare openly clash with the Taidao Sect—one of the Eighteen Immortal Sects.

After a brief hesitation, Donggua grabbed Xigua’s arm, deciding to drag him along one last time.

But in the next instant, a dozen oppressive auras erupted around them.

Masked cultivators emerged, their faces hidden behind grotesque disguises, their bodies wreathed in thick, tar-like primordial energy.

At their forefront stood a goat-masked figure, his Soul Formation cultivation no longer concealed.

The goat-masked man drew a sword dripping with corrupted energy, his voice guttural.

"Who would’ve thought the illustrious Daoist Yuyang would collude with a sanguine demonic cultivator?"

"My brothers here aren’t the brightest. They don’t recognize faces. If they get a little... overzealous, things might get messy."

"How about you walk away today, Daoist Yuyang? Let’s all leave peacefully."

Daoist Yuyang scoffed.

"Since when did trash like you think you were worthy of bargaining with me?"

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