Chapter 123: Return to Liusha Gathering

He waited for several more hours. As the horizon turned dark red like flames and golden rays blanketed the land, the sun was clearly setting in the western mountains. Yet An Guoxie still hadn’t shown up for his usual rounds, causing him increasing anxiety and a vague sense that something was wrong.

The fellow retreated into the shop and exited through the back door, though now dressed in a new outfit—a white robe and a white head wrap, typical of a desert traveler.

He swiftly traversed the town, skirted around a small lake, and reached the site where the palace once stood. Then, he entered the temple where he had witnessed An Guoxie entering the night before.

As soon as he entered the temple, his heart sank. Despite the passage of considerable time, a faint bloody smell still lingered in the air, along with an indescribable, unsettling odor.

Using the glow of the setting sun, he carefully searched the ground inch by inch. Suddenly, his gaze froze. In front of the tattered statue, there were faint dark-black patches on the floor.

Although someone had clearly attempted to erase the traces, this splattered blood was hidden extremely well. If not for the evening sunlight shining precisely on this spot, revealing its uniqueness, he would never have noticed it.

This horse bandit, disguised as a shop assistant, stood frozen in place, utterly stunned. Without even needing to verify, he could guess that this was An Guoxie’s blood. He must have already departed this world. After all, if he had killed someone else, why go to such lengths to cover his tracks? Unless he had slain a relative of the gang leader, a disciple favored by the Patriarch, or someone of high status—like a direct disciple from the Snow Mountain Sect, the Vajra Temple, the Asura Temple, or the Joyful Shrine—who could possibly hold him accountable?

This was a huge mess… The spy thought with a long sigh; this was no longer something he could handle.

One of the Patriarch’s two most favored disciples, a supreme expert with all nine orifices opened and ranked among the human elite, had been silently killed?

The killer’s strength must absolutely surpass his imagination!

He continued searching carefully for a while but found no other clues. Not daring to delay further, he quietly bypassed the shop and wrote down everything he had seen and his guesses into a detailed letter.

At night, he sneaked to the edge of the woods beside the small lake, pinched his lower lip, and whistled—a signal of three long and two short notes. Soon, a strange bird with a white head and black feathers flew out from the woods, joyfully landing on his shoulder, flapping its wings against his head affectionately.

After spending a while bonding with the strange bird and feeding it several strips of fresh meat, he tied the letter to its leg and sent it soaring into the night sky.

The horse bandit stood there for a moment, sighed softly, and quietly returned to the shop.

The next day, he resumed his usual duties of watching the shop and selling goods. In the evening, just as he was preparing, under the manager’s orders, to close the shop doors, his vision blurred momentarily, and suddenly a tall, middle-aged man appeared before him. The man wore no head wrap, had short, coarse black hair, a full beard, a black eye patch over his left eye, and a narrow, sinister black cavalry saber at his waist.

“Boss,” the horse bandit respectfully greeted, lowering his head. He used the Western Regions’ language rather than the unofficial Great Jin tongue commonly used along trade routes.

This man was indeed Zelu Ju, one of the three great horse bandits of the Hanhai, a disciple of the Weeping Elder, an expert at the Exteriors level, and nicknamed “Haihai Evil Blade.”

Zelu Ju’s voice was hoarse but had a unique magnetism. He also spoke in the Western Regions’ language: “Where is the temple?”

An Guoxie, a martial expert with all nine orifices opened, was one of the two strongest disciples in the Weeping Elder’s lineage, alongside Zelu Ju and Yanshi Che. His death was extremely significant, so upon receiving the secret letter, Zelu Ju personally came to investigate.

The horse bandit dared not say much. He glanced at the manager, who seemed completely unaware, as if there were no one at the shop’s entrance at all. The bandit couldn’t help but feel admiration—this was truly the Haihai Evil Blade.

He quickly shut the shop door and left from the back, leading Zelu Ju into the temple.

Zelu Ju examined the nearly imperceptible bloodstain on the ground, slowly removing his eye patch. His left eye socket, devoid of an eyeball, suddenly emitted a faint green glow, within which countless fish-like shapes seemed to swirl and dart. Instantly, the temple echoed with ghostly wails, turning chilling and eerie.

His left eye had been gouged out by the Weeping Elder, but this misfortune had brought fortune—he had cultivated an extremely difficult martial art called “Hellish Evil Eye,” which was also the source of his “Evil Blade” nickname.

The green glow intensified, bathing the entire temple in a ghostly emerald light, making it increasingly sinister and terrifying. The horse bandit trembled with fear, his heart pounding.

After observing for a while, Zelu Ju turned and exited the temple, slowly walking to the edge of the small lake. Then, he raised his hand. A violent wind erupted, and a whirlpool suddenly formed in the lake.

With a roaring splash, the whirlpool rapidly expanded and erupted, sending waves skyward. Two stones were pulled up from the depths.

On one stone was a headless corpse, and on the other, a tattered head.

The bandit looked closely. Although the corpse’s face had been gnawed beyond recognition by fish in the lake, the distinctive white hair clearly identified it as An Guoxie—he had indeed been killed!

“Good kill. This little bastard, I’ve wanted to kill him for a long time,” Zelu Ju said flatly, “but no matter how deserving he was, only we had the right to kill him!”

His “Hellish Evil Eye” couldn’t identify wounds, so he put the eye patch back on and crouched beside the corpse for a closer inspection.

“There are wounds on the forehead and cheeks, but they’ve been deliberately destroyed. Combined with fish bites, it’s impossible to determine which martial technique caused them or whether they were fatal…” Zelu Ju muttered softly, while the horse bandit wisely remained silent.

“There are traces of hidden weapons and signs of severe poison damage to the heart, likely one of the primary causes of death. There are also residual toxic traces in the meridians and signs of internal energy dispersing before death…” Zelu Ju continued, half in thought, half in observation.

“The bones have been completely softened, likely from evading blades or swords. For someone to reduce the little bastard to this state, either his opponent completely overwhelmed him or caught him by surprise… There are traces of reversed cultivation of the Mad Sand technique, indicating he was counteracting poison and toxic energy. If his opponent had superior strength, there would have been no need for such elaborate methods…”

Zelu Ju clapped his hands together, stood up, and addressed the horse bandit: “The killer’s strength is no more than six orifices. He is skilled in poison and hidden weapons, patient, and likely proficient in both sword and blade techniques. An Guoxie must have let his guard down, was caught off guard by dispersing toxic energy, and then attacked suddenly. The sword and blade were just distractions—the hidden weapon was the true cause of death. However, judging from his deliberate destruction of the blade wound traces, he likely possesses formidable sword or blade techniques that cannot be ignored.”

“Boss, it’s probably that young monk. At his age, he must have just opened his eyes. What should we do?” the horse bandit asked.

“Don’t underestimate him. I’ll issue orders—within the Hanhai, every brother must hunt this thief together.” Zelu Ju had many responsibilities to attend to within the Hanhai. Since the killer’s strength wasn’t as formidable as he’d imagined, and An Guoxie had been killed through clever tricks rather than sheer power, he had no intention of personally pursuing the killer.

Even so, having one-third of the vast desert horse bandits hunting down and surrounding the killer would still be terrifying!

Among these bandits were countless experts with opened orifices, all hardened criminals familiar with the terrain, capable of rallying together and communicating swiftly. If a group of these bandits latched onto someone and the target couldn’t escape the vast desert quickly or hide effectively, even a nine-orifice expert might meet his end here.

“Yes, Boss.” The horse bandit dared not meet Zelu Ju’s sharp, blade-like right eye directly.

…

At Liusha Market, Meng Qi in his white Confucian robe and Gu Changqing, who looked like a frail scholar, rode back on horseback, like two traveling scholars returning from afar.

“Finally made it,” Gu Changqing exhaled in relief.

Along the way, he had taken several wrong turns, arriving a day later than expected at Liusha Market.

Meng Qi’s lips twitched. This guy seemed a bit unreliable. If he were to rely on him to find his junior apprentice deep within the vast sea, wouldn’t that be asking for trouble?

“Yeah, finally made it,” Meng Qi replied, no longer using the monk’s speech pattern.

Upon hearing Meng Qi’s reply, Gu Changqing looked awkward and sheepish: “My experience is a bit shallow, but it’s not that I don’t understand the terrain well. Look, we did eventually arrive at Liusha Market, right?”

“Right,” Meng Qi nodded, carefully saving his face.

The poplar trees stood tall and twisted along the roadside. Liusha Market seemed to have somewhat recovered from the impact of the previous battle between Xuan Bei and the Weeping Elder, regaining a bit of its former vitality.

Meng Qi and Gu Changqing stepped into the “First Family of the Vast Sea” together. As was customary, the first sight that greeted them was the counter, and behind it stood the ever-familiar Qu Jiuniang—stunningly beautiful, exuding mature charm, yet infamous for her notoriously foul temper.

Qu Jiuniang, indifferent and lazy, leaned on the counter, her seductive posture making many passing customers swallow hard, though none dared to stare too long.

“Shopkeeper, I’d like to inquire about some information,” Meng Qi said, wearing a gauze hat to hide his lack of hair.

“No information,” Qu Jiuniang replied curtly, clearly uninterested in engaging further. This was a place for dining and lodging, not a hub for gathering intelligence!

Meng Qi once again felt the urge to teach her a lesson—she was just too insufferable. But recalling she might be an Exteriors-level expert, he restrained himself and took out an emerald of emerald green: “Shopkeeper, I’m willing to pay a high price.”

Upon seeing the obviously high-quality emerald green, Qu Jiuniang’s eyes sparkled, instantly becoming more spirited and even more captivating.

“You should’ve brought that out earlier! Money talks!” Qu Jiuniang scolded half-jokingly.

This was the first time since Meng Qi entered that she had looked at him directly. As soon as she finished speaking, her expression slightly changed. She carefully examined Meng Qi from head to toe, inspecting his eyes, his ears, his skin, his hands, and finally the dark red Precept Blade hanging at his waist and the long sword in its pale gold scabbard. Meng Qi felt uneasy—what exactly was she looking at?

Then, Qu Jiuniang’s expression returned to normal, and she said indifferently, “If you want to inquire about information, go to a room. Don’t let others overhear.”

Meng Qi had no objection at all. The information he sought might expose his identity, and there were likely bandit spies around.

Qu Jiuniang stepped out from behind the counter and headed upstairs first. Her slim waist swayed gracefully, her back view elegant and delicate like a willow branch gently swaying in the wind. Meng Qi and Gu Changqing quickly followed behind her.

Some customers whispered and laughed: “Since when has gathering information required going to a room? I don’t remember Jiuniang ever having such a rule?”

“She must like pretty boys like him. Eating him up and wiping him clean—must be very nourishing, hehe.” Their laughter was filled with vulgarity.

Hearing this, Qu Jiuniang frowned. She snatched a wooden basin from a waiter who was wiping tables and flung the water at them: “Go nourish your mother!”