Disclaimer: This chapter is a bit... gory?

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Damn it, how did this happen? Wenjing's practically family to us, how could we let him slip through our fingers like that? I just don't understand.

We raced down the mountain at a breakneck pace, with me leading the charge and Yishu bringing up the rear, carrying his younger brother on his back. That kid's something else. He's too sharp for his own good, which sometimes makes me wonder if he's possessed by some demon. But then again, he doesn't exactly exude the aura of a powerful ancient dark immortal or a demon. Just thinking back on our earlier conversation and seeing his proud, yet resentful expression now as he fights to maintain his composure against the wind battering his face, it's clear that he's still just a child. Yes, he's clever and proud, but still just a child.

Glancing over at Yishu, I'm struck once again by how much they resemble each other. Recalling my friend at the same age, considering they met around that time, only adds to my amazement. In terms of appearance, the only noticeable differences are the color of their hair and eyes. While the younger Sheng's eyes, unlike the older Sheng's seemingly straightforward gaze, have a hint of menace to them, thanks to the red rim around his irises.

When it comes to personality... They're cut from the same cloth. Senior Sheng was just the same, always convinced he was the smartest in the room because he'd been hailed as a genius from a young age. Consequently, he was just as proud and headstrong.

As memories of our carefree childhood flooded back, a smile crept onto my face unnoticed.

"Qingyin, why the grin? Something amusing you?" Yishu arched an eyebrow inquisitively.

"I was struck by how alike you two are. Give it about 15 years, and if you're still kicking, people will mistake Sheng Junior for your wicked twin," I chuckled.

"We don't resemble each other at all. I'm a formidable cultivator, while he's just a cocky little snot," my old friend retorted indignantly.

Jian's expression shifted dramatically at this remark - his eyebrows knit together, his mouth tightened into a thin line, his eyes blazed with righteous fury, and his cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson. He seemed on the verge of erupting like a boiling kettle, steam ready to burst from his nose and ears.

I couldn't help but find the whole scene utterly amusing, and I burst into laughter. As their comrade Yousi often says, laughter is a disease as contagious as the flu, melancholy, syphilis, and hiccups. Yishu joined in, laughing so hard that his shaking shoulders caused little Jian to cling to his back for dear life, desperate not to tumble off. Thus, a vicious cycle ensued, with the younger one's anger fueling the laughter of the older two.

Unable to endure the teasing any longer, the youngest member of our group finally spoke up:

"How did Wenjing end up enslaved, and where?"

"Qingyin, he's got a point. Where exactly are we rushing off to? I'm clueless myself."

"In a quaint little town called Cherry Orchard, nestled near the larger city of Mountain Gate, close to the northern passageway leading to our sect."

"Sounds lovely. You reckon there are many beauties there, given the name?" Yishu mused dreamily.

"Not many, I'm afraid. The cherry orchard was chopped down long before your grandfather's time, when they discovered vast deposits of spiritual silver beneath it. But they kept the name as a nod to history, and the silver mined there is jokingly referred to as 'cherry silver.' So chances are slim of encountering any beauties there, unless it's the daughter of the head of the Ju family."

"Tell me more about her, and how do you know so much about the place?"

"One of my earliest solo missions involved taking down a demonic beast that was wreaking havoc in the settlement. You've heard the story before – it's the one about the ogre rabbit."

"Ah, I remember now," Yishu chimed in. "You spent three months in the infirmary growing a new liver after that. You tried to pass it off as drinking bad alcohol by mistake, thinking it was the Potion of a Thousand Tears. But you were eventually ratted out by the senior apprentice from the Mission Pavilion."

Yishu burst into laughter once more. At this point, Jian couldn't resist jumping into the conversation.

"What's this Potion of a Thousand Tears?"

"It's one of many potions that aid in accelerating cultivation, to simplify it. I'm not an alchemist myself, but I've heard it's concocted from the tears of thousands of virgins with a pure yin physique. Personally, I find it absurd. Where would they even find so many virgins these days?" Senior Sheng replied, before shifting the topic. "But what about the daughter of the Ju family? Have you ever laid eyes on her yourself?"

"No, but I've heard rumors. People gossip that she's not the biological daughter of the Ju family, but an adopted one."

"Why would they say that?"

"Well, throughout their history, the Ju clan has been known for their peculiar physical traits – stunted stature, corpulence, clubfoot, crooked teeth, squinty eyes, unruly hair. She, however, stands out in every aspect. As the saying goes, you can't grow an orange on an apple tree."

I shot my friend a stern look. "You know exactly why we're heading there. Don't even think about it. This isn't some girl from the sect, let alone a brothel. You could tarnish your family's reputation. You're aware of the gossip among the sect's elders about you, aren't you?"

"Haven't heard, hopefully, it's all good things?" He attempted to deflect, averting his gaze.

"You've heard. 'There are three things you can't do in this life – court death, eat yellow snow, and keep your daughters within ten li of Sheng Yishu.'"

"Oh, you know those wise elders, they're like children - always spinning tales and exaggerating."

"That may be true, but within the sect, your ancestor's authority affords you protection. They try to keep rumors about you contained within the sect. But if you act recklessly outside its confines, you'll bring disgrace upon the entire family. As your friend, I feel obligated to intervene."

Resentment clouded his expression. So, I decided to lighten the mood.

"Besides, it's probably all hearsay anyway."

"What makes you say that?"

"No one has actually laid eyes on her. And it seems they're actively seeking a more suitable suitor for her. She's the sole heir of the main branch, with no siblings or cousins. If her family can't secure a strong alliance soon, they risk losing their position. There are even rumors that your grandfather is eyeing their deposits with great interest. Trust me, if you go there, you'll be walking right into a trap."

"Fair point. Let's pick up the pace then, we're already cutting it close."

---

Five hours later, we arrived at the town, our figures emerging like phantoms before the main gate. Rapping on the guard's window with a sharp rap, we announced our presence. Inside, a cacophony of shattering dishes, tumbling furniture, and yowling cats indicated that the guards were not in their finest form today. Eventually, the window creaked open, revealing a guard with a bruised eye.

"W-who's there?"

"We are disciples of the Thousand Radiant Divine Swords Sect," I replied, "There was a misunderstanding yesterday, and our comrade ended up in your mines. We've come to resolve this matter and retrieve him."

"Ah, esteemed cultivators, you're most welcome. I'll open the gate for you."

Initially, I presumed his demeanor was merely a response to our status, but as Yishu leaned in to whisper, a sense of unease crept over me.

"Stay alert," he murmured, "I don't trust that gatekeeper. Jian senses it too."

I simply nodded in response and began to scan our surroundings more attentively. As the city gates swung open, a sense of unease settled over me at the eerie emptiness of the streets. It was highly unusual; while our sect might consider this town small, to ordinary mortals and those with weaker potential, it was sprawling. Two million souls populated its streets, a substantial number by any measure. Yet, all the stalls and shops stood shuttered and silent.

Maintaining our vigilance, we pressed on toward the main administrative building. Along the 40 li stretch of road, we encountered not a single living soul. Just as we reached the threshold of the main structure, a shout rang out from behind us.

"Found you, scum!"

Swiveling around, we were met by three cultivators in the Foundation Establishment realm. The one at the forefront exuded a palpable strength, clearly superior to his companions. Though not tall, his sturdy frame hinted at formidable power. A gaping black void replaced his right eye, marking him as a stage 4 cultivator. The two trailing behind him appeared to be at stage 2.

Was he truly seeking his own demise? I was a stage 1 in the Soul Connection realm, while Yishu boasted the rank of stage 5, the youngest cultivator in our sect to achieve such a feat at his age. Did he truly mean to challenge us?

"Are you finished tempting fate?" my friend's words echoed my own sentiments. "Or did your mother forget to teach you to hold your tongue?"

"I don't mince words with criminals! Where's the girl?"

"What girl?"

"The one you abducted from the brothel! Spare me your deceit. She still owes her family's debt, and now our respectable establishment is suffering. Return the girl or settle her debt!"

Yishu and I exchanged a meaningful glance. Does he grasp the gravity of his mistake? Yishu's eyes sparked with intensity, his expression growing steely. I recognize that look all too well—someone is about to meet a grisly end.

"Listen, Friend," Yishu's voice dripped with venom, "you've just insulted the wrong people. And you're delaying me from pressing matters. So, decide how you want to meet your end."

"You're in no position to make demands, you bastard. And don't think there's only three of us. Boys, teach these fancy sissies a lesson!"

With those words, another 21 individuals descended from nearby rooftops. All were in the early stages of Foundation Establishment, armed to the teeth. Some wielded spears, others swords, hammers, or maces.

"Stay close to Jian, Qingyin. I'm going to have a little stretch," Yishu instructed.

"Got it, but don't take too long. Wenjing won't wait," I reminded my friend. Then, turning to his younger brother, I added, "Jian, observe closely. Your big brother excels in three arts: revelry, cultivation, and murder."

With that, Yishu lunged forward, swiftly dispatching one of his adversaries by impaling his chest and extracting his still-beating heart. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Jian's wide-eyed reaction. They say violence shouldn't be witnessed by young children. I believe that's nonsense.

Meanwhile, Yishu didn't pause. With his free hand, he seized the second attacker and shoved the first one's heart down his throat right up to his elbow, hurling the carcass toward the trio beside him. Snatching up a spear from the ground, he became a whirlwind of destruction, cleaving five others to pieces with it. Limbs and viscera scattered in every direction. I narrowly evaded a severed hand that flew past me.

"Jian, keep your mouth shut, or else, someone's eye will fly in there," I warned.

Yishu snapped the spear in two against one assailant, then drove the broken end into the eye of another, both falling lifeless as he withdrew.

Some attackers attempted to coordinate their assault, but Yishu leaped into the air, driving the heads of two more into the ground with tremendous force. The impact created a towering column of dust and a small crater. Disarming another with a swift maneuver, he soared once more, dispatching seven additional foes before finally halting his onslaught. As the dust settled, the street was painted crimson. Of the 24 attackers, 18 lay dead.

"D-don't shit yourselves, boys. He's paused, but he's clearly weary. There are still more of us!"

"I'm not tired; I just prefer to savor the moment," Yishu declared as he resumed the carnage: the sword shattered against number 19's skull, number 20 met a gruesome end with his stomach torn open, number 21 lost his head, number 22 succumbed to panic and soiled himself before collapsing, and number 23 was strangled with number 20's entrails.

Only numbers 22 and their leader, 24, remained alive. With his foot planted firmly on 22's head, Yishu addressed their leader.

"Looks like one of your comrades couldn't handle the pressure."

"P-please, have mercy, senior! It was a grave mistake! This blind man failed to recognize Mount Tai! I beg you, please, spare my life!"

"Have you got money?"

"What?"

"Money! I'm lacking it at this moment."

"Y-yes, I have it, all stored in my ring!"

"Excellent. By the way, what's your name?"

"Shu, sir, I don't have a last name."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Shu No Last Name! Now scurry over like a boar and gather all the valuables from your comrades. Understood?"

"Y-yes, understood, sir!"

Within minutes, a small mound of coins, jewels, weapons, and spirit stones had accumulated before us.

"They're paying bounty hunters quite handsomely these days. Perhaps we should consider joining their ranks, Qingyin. What do you think?"

"I've dabbled in it before. The downside is the lack of steady work. Ugh, gods, what a foul odor!"

Meanwhile, numbers 22 and 24 were kneeling beside us.

"Hey, you! Strip off your trousers," Yishu commanded. What was he planning?

"S-s-senior, I-I beg your pardon..."

"Take them off, or I'll tear your head off."

Reluctantly, number 22 complied, worsening the stench.

"Shu, have a taste."

"Sir..."

"Eat it!"

Poor Shu had no recourse but to comply, presenting a repulsive sight. It was a stark illustration of the law, where might makes right. Well, such is the way of the world; there's little one can do to change it. The strong will always hold their heads high, while the weak... will find themselves in unsavory situations. Is that a fitting analogy?

As Yishu's cruel command fell upon him, Shu's initial reaction was one of disbelief and revulsion. His stomach churned with nausea at the degrading demand, and his trembling hands hesitated at his waistband, recoiling instinctively from the grotesque task before him.

But the menacing glint in Yishu's eyes left Shu with no choice but to comply, a primal survival instinct overriding his every instinctive aversion.

As 21st reluctantly lowered his trousers, the rancid stench assaulted his senses, overpowering him with its repugnance. The foul odor seemed to permeate every fiber of his being, filling his nostrils and choking him with its putrid intensity.

With a grimace of disgust and trembling fingers, Shu forced himself to obey, lowering his head to the unspeakable task before him, each movement accompanied by a nauseating sense of humiliation and degradation. The taste was foul, the texture repulsive, and with each reluctant mouthful, he felt a little piece of his dignity crumble away.

Every bite was a bitter reminder of his powerlessness, a stark testament to the merciless cruelty of those who held dominion over him. As he choked down the last morsel, a sense of profound despair washed over him, leaving him feeling utterly defeated and utterly alone in the face of such unrelenting brutality.

However, Yishu wasn't finished with his retribution. With one swift motion of his spear, he severed Shu's head, ensuring it landed squarely in the pants of number 21.

"Put your trousers back on so his head doesn't slip out," he commanded. Number 21 complied, prompting Yishu to add, "Well done. Now go and don't take off your filthy pants ever again. If you do, I'll come, I'll..." Yishu mockingly made a sniffing sound, "I'll smell it, haha, and I'll stick this head so deep up your ass that you'll never get it out again, do you understand me?"

"Y-y-yes, sir."

"Now get out of here, you foul-smelling wretch. Your stench is making me sick."

Turning to his younger brother, Yishu remarked, "This is the fate of those who don't choose their words carefully, little brother, and those who are not strong enough to back these words with action. Remember this lesson: the strong do whatever they want to the weak. Hope you have learned that."