After running like a madman, Yan Bai finally reached Yan Yang's residence. His instincts screamed at him to flee, his senses on high alert, but he pushed the entry door wide open. He was immediately assaulted by the pungent stench of blood, a metallic tang that clung to the air.
Pulling out his spear, he cautiously made his way deeper into the residence, where blood spatters covered the floor and walls, the aftermath of a deadly fight.
The cold air bit at his skin as he entered, an icy chill that seeped into his bones. The entire place felt like a tomb, the stillness broken only by the faint, distant sound of dripping blood. His breath puffed out in white clouds, adding to the eerie atmosphere. The walls and floors were slick with congealed blood, dark and sticky, a painting of the savagery that had occurred.
When he reached the inner residence, he saw the silhouette of a man barely standing on his feet. "I see Young Master Bai has received my gift. I left a second one for you in there; this one won't last long," the man said as he passed by. It was Yan Jin, who had visibly unleashed a slaughter. Yan Bai was too stunned and stimulated to stop him as he ran into the room.
What he saw next was absolute carnage. Over twenty bodies lay strewn in every direction, their limbs severed or grotesquely twisted. The floor was a macabre mosaic of blood and flesh, entrails spilled out like grotesque decorations. The walls were painted with splashes of crimson, and the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood mingling with the cold.
Ice sculptures dyed in red stood as silent witnesses to the massacre. Each one was an ode to brutality, frozen figures encased in bloody ice, their expressions twisted in terror. The night candle glowed weakly, casting a flickering light on the hanging body of Yan Yi on the wall.
He was pinned by multiple arrows, splayed in a cross position, blood dripping steadily from his wounds to pool on the floor below.
"Yan Yi!" Yan Bai shouted, rushing to his side. The man was barely conscious, his breaths shallow and ragged, each exhale a faint mist in the frigid air.
"He... is... back..." Yan Yi wheezed, his voice a fragile whisper.
"Who is back?" Yan Bai asked urgently, desperation in his voice.
The final piece of Yan Jin's plan was to turn Yan Bai against his own family. Observing Yan Bai's actions tonight, Yan Jin felt confident in his deductions. This felt almost like clairvoyance, an exciting and terrifying talent that he was beginning to harness. The complexity of the human mind and its reactions to betrayal, love, and hatred were all variables he could manipulate.
After the confrontation at the arena, Yan Jin headed straight for Yan Yang's residence. He knew that Yan Li would send a cleanup crew to erase any evidence of his misdeeds.
The fight that ensued was brutal. He underestimated the advantage that a higher cultivation level afforded his enemies, and it showed. His body was battered and bloodied. The cold night air mixed with the smell of blood and sweat, an intoxicating blend that heightened his senses.
He narrowly escaped death multiple times, relying on his poisoned arrows, Gwi netherflames, and regenerative abilities to survive.
He reflected on the night's events while soaking in the tub, the warmth soothing his aching muscles. "I killed all the traitors tonight, but it cost me my strongest card: anonymity." He muttered to himself, feeling the weight of his actions settle heavily on his shoulders.
The strategic part of his mind was already analyzing the repercussions. "Judging by Yan Bai's behavior, he will definitely cover for me. Let's see... hmm... fire. ..Gu Zhun and Gu Sha will not miss an occasion to score sympathy points. The question is, who will they tattle to? Yan Li?
Yan Bai? Patriarch Yan?" He chuckled softly. The image of cockroaches scurrying in the light filled his mind, a fitting metaphor for the desperate attempts of the Yan Clan to preserve their secrets.
"One thing I don't understand is why the Old Man Yan kept quiet all these years. It was surely not because Yan Li was smart and cunning; the old man had him beat on all these aspects." He pondered, realizing there must be a more significant force at play.
His thoughts wandered as he stood up from the bathtub, droplets of water trailing down his body, each drop feeling like a weight being lifted. The warmth of the bath was replaced by the cool air of the room, a stark reminder of the harsh reality outside his sanctuary.
He had played his hand tonight, setting a series of events into motion. It was now up to the opposing party to show their cards. The taste of victory was tantalizingly close, and he would dismantle the Yan Clan piece by piece.