Chapter 71: Seemingly the end

Chapter 71: Seemingly the end

Murong Lin’s unwavering gaze fixated upon the figure of ‘Xue Qian Shi,’ who knelt before him. In his grasp rested the bag of holding, something that he had entrusted to him earlier.

“Reveal your true face, are you Qing Yu Lou?” Murong Lin spoke.

‘Xue Qian Shi’ channelled his spiritual power, releasing his Manifestation transformation that distorted his skin and unveiled his original appearance – that of a middle-aged man.

He responded respectfully, “Yes, I am the floor master, Qing Yu Lou.”

His voice resonated with a palpable sense of enthusiasm, as though he found profound joy in his master’s recollection of his name.

Yet, Murong Lin’s ability to remember him wasn’t astonishing. Within the expanse of the Qing Yi Tower’s 108 floors, a mere eight floor masters held the distinction of attaining a cultivation at the ninth layer of the Manifestation realm.

More than a thousand people knelt behind him.

In a meticulously coordinated effort, five levels of the Qing Yi Tower seamlessly orchestrated the infiltration and replacement of vital figures within the Xue clan, while an additional fifteen floors conquered their present stronghold. In addition, sixteen floors had been dispatched to deal with other buildings and personnel affiliated with the Xue clan within the capital.

These 36 floors of the Qing Yi Tower represented the last batch of personnel that Murong Lin could mobilize. The remaining 72 floors were busy revolting in the 32 counties of Yan, but they should be done soon.

Meanwhile, the remaining 72 floors were deeply immersed in fomenting rebellion across the 32 counties of Yan.

However, it was a venture expected to reach its conclusion in the near future.

“Very well, gather the remaining resources with your men and disperse.” Murong Lin commanded.

Without hesitation, the entire assembly responded in unison, “Yes!”

In an instant, their figures vanished from the ruins of the Xue clan, leaving behind a vacant silence in their wake.

Only now did the dire state of the Xue clan begin to capture the attention of the influential forces in the capital. Nearby residents, eager to learn of the unfolding events, refrained from approaching the Xue clan’s manor due to the eerie screams emanating from within. Instead, they awaited the arrival of patrol teams to reveal the truth.

With the Xue clan’s residence growing eerily silent, uncertainty plagued the hearts of those gathered. Not a single member of the Xue clan had emerged, leaving speculation that they were either too preoccupied with cleaning up after their victory or that they had all been killed by their enemies, leaving their corpses scattered around the manor.

Five minutes of unsettling silence passed before those brave enough ventured closer to the walls of the Xue clan’s manor, utilizing their divine senses to investigate the situation within.

And with one sweep of their divine senses, a wave of astonishment washed over every single person, leaving them visibly pale and taken aback.

Following a brief pause, a handful of individuals among them found their voices, their exclamations echoing in a high-pitched shriek, “The Xue clan has been annihilated! The has been annihilated!”

In the wake of this revelation, a palpable shock reverberated through the assembled crowd, their gazes interlocking in mutual bewilderment, leaving them immobilized and uncertain about their next course of action.

Emerging at the scene, the ancestor of the Wang clan descended swiftly from the skies, bellowing towards the very skies themselves, “Who is responsible for this atrocity?”

His words resonated with every onlooker, bringing clarity to the unimaginable events that had transpired.

The Xue clan was no more.

Yet, the commotion surrounding this revelation distracted everyone from the fact that the palace guards who regularly patrolled the capital were nowhere to be found.

Within the confines of the imperial palace, a force exceeding a thousand cannon fodders found themselves mercilessly decimated by an equal contingent of the real palace guards. Those who remained, paralyzed by fear and lacking the mettle to fight, yielded to the inevitable and surrendered. Yet, even in the act of laying down their arms, their lives were callously snuffed out by the relentless onslaught.

This was what Murong Tong meant.

Despite harbouring his own resentments toward Murong Tong over the death of his mother, Tang Can understood that the present circumstances didn’t allow him to confront him head-on. As a disciple of the Tang sect, he recognized the importance of strategy and subtlety.

Simultaneously, the ethos of the Tang sect demanded that he settle debts owed.

Hence, Tang Can sought Murong Tong’s approval for executing ‘Murong Lin’.

In contrast, Murong Ding’s expression soured considerably. Having just learned of Murong Lin’s survival from the lips of the imposter, the revelation cast a shadow of bleak news upon him.

An enigmatic gleam danced within the Poisonous Old Ghost’s gaze.

Murong Tong turned to regard the youthful disciple of the Poisonous Old Ghost, nodding slightly. An opportunity to secure favour was not to be squandered.

Swiftly stepping aside, Murong Tong’s gesture signalled for Tang Can to seize the moment.

With a gesture of gratitude, Tang Can levelled the Storm Chrysanthemum Needles at ‘Murong Lin’s’ face, deftly squeezing the trigger, unleashing an onslaught of tens of thousands of needles.

A collective exhale of relief swept through the assembled witnesses, liberated from the unsettling presence of this abhorrent technique.

Indeed, the repulsiveness of this technique was all too evident. Its capacity to facilitate seamless impersonation was fraught with the potential for unfounded accusations and manipulation.

A cascade of contemplations surged through the minds of those in attendance as they focused their gaze on the individual who had precipitated such turmoil in Yan. Slowly, the gathering began to disperse.

Meanwhile, Tang Can remained rooted in place, his gaze affixed to the porcupine-like corpse. Breathing heavily, he spoke with fervent excitement, “Father, did you see it? I’ve finally avenged you!”

His gaze lingered upon the corpse, noticing a faint trace of scorn etched onto its mangled face.

Yet, the perplexing question lingered—given the fear and despair that surely accompanied his final moments, why would the imposter meet his demise with such an expression?

Another puzzling aspect caught Tang Can’s attention, but he had no time to ponder further.

The Poisonous Old Ghost advanced, his palm descending with a resounding impact upon the corpse. His potent poison commenced its work, dissolving the remains into a grotesque puddle.

On the other hand, Lu Hai Miao joyfully leapt into Tang Can’s arms.

She beamed with fervour, her words overflowing with excitement. “You’ve finally avenged him! I’m certain your father in heaven will find solace in this.”

Tang Can returned her embrace awkwardly, offering a nod in response.

Only then did Lu Hai Miao register the impropriety of her actions. Hastily jumping off Tang Can, her cheeks flushed a deep hue as embarrassment flooded her features—a blush that bespoke the bashfulness of a young woman.

Tang Can, too, felt his face flush with embarrassment, aware of the genuine emotions he had just experienced.

Amused, the Poisonous Old Ghost emitted a hearty chuckle, his hand moving to stroke his beard as he regarded the duo with a knowing glint in his eyes, “Continue, continue, this old man shall take a stroll.”

Tang Can and Lu Hai Miao promptly interjected, their faces reddening as they halted him in his tracks.

Translator’s note

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