Chapter 553 - Meng Wuyan

“That’s him! That’s him!”

With his eyes lividly furious, Yang Qing looked nothing like the man he usually was. He clenched his fists so tightly that they cracked as he struggled to keep his boiling emotions and his reddened face in control. But with his injury now aggravated by the spike in his emotion, he choked and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

“Hold on, Brother Yang!” A man quickly helped him up while two others kept a close watch on their surroundings.

At the same time, Xiao Chen and Chu Qi maintained vigilance. His fingers gripped taut the hilt of his Blood Lotus Demon Blade as he scanned everywhere for any signs of their enemy, for he could not sense where was he nor where could he be coming from.

“That’s him! That MUST BE him!” Yang Qing howled, his eyes now flushed red and veins throbbed at his temples with raging madness. The enemy’s voice filled him with so much hate that Yang Qing looked as if he wanted to feast on his flesh and taste his blood.

“Heh heh heh heh… are you looking for him?”

The eerie voice resounded again. Only this time, the enemy showed himself. He stepped into the light, freeing himself from inside the darkness, gliding barely inches over the ground. His pale-white skin gave off a deathly luster, as was his blood-red lips, that everything about him reeked of the stench of a rotting corpse.

Behind him, stood another pair of men, both looking similar to him, but they were holding up a man between them; one of the three men whom Yang Qing had sent out earlier!

“Meng Wuyan! So it really was you!” bellowed Yang Qing with so much anger that his bloodied eyes threatened to burst. There was only so much his men could do to prevent him from lunging to his own death as they cried, “NO! NO! Brother Yang, calm down! He’s too strong! We won’t win him…”

“Heh heh heh…”

Meng Wuyan, the Chief of Wuyan Chamber—the Chamber of Nightmare—one of the twelve Chambers of Black Horn, smiled thinly. “Strange… strange indeed,” he said suddenly, “There is this smell… a smell that reminds me of myself… a scent that attracts me so of… immortality… undeath…” His scrutinizing eyes panned around and rested on Xiao Chen.

Chu Qi bolted and threw herself in front of Xiao Chen but was quickly stopped by his hand on her shoulder. He slowly eased her to his back. He felt only an indescribable dread from the enemy in front. He could not grasp how powerful he could be, but he was certain that Chu Qi would be no match for him.

“Brother, Brother Yang…” moaned the man apprehended by Meng Wuyan’s corpse-like underlings; he looked weak and impaired.

“Zhao Jiu!” Yang Qing who saw him now, growled through gritted teeth. Glaring at Meng Wuyan, he exclaimed, “What are you doing, Meng Wuyan! Release him!”

“Release him? Of course… but…” Meng Wuyan smiled viciously and he dragged Zhao Jiu forward. The sight of his man being tortured made Yang Qing grew angrier. “If you dare lay a hand on him… Meng Wuyan… I’m warning you…”

An anguish shriek of pain coming from Zhao Jiu cut him off. Yang Qing glowered with uncontrollable rage, “Zhao Jiu…!”

A sharp, black spike—that Meng Wuyan magically shaped with a pair of his fingers—speared through Zhao Jiu’s rib cage and abdomen. With his life ebbing away, the latter croaked, “Yang, Yang… Run…”

Before he finished, he erupted once more into another excruciating shriek. Meng Wuyan’s spike-like appendage burst inside Zhao Jiu and countless other tiny spikes pierced everywhere out of him that he resembled a sea urchin, destroying everything inside him. With his last breath, he groaned, “R-R-Run…” And his head hung limply on his neck.

“ZHAO JIU…!” Yang Qing howled. He would have thrown himself forward if not for his two men clinging desperately to him. Beside them, Xiao Chen hardly moved an inch. Their enemy was powerful. He might be able to win a fight with his full might. But he had only just got wounded and Guifeng remained too heavily exhausted before he could reappear.

“Heh heh heh…” A pleased Meng Wuyan withdrew his bloodied spike, swinging it and unceremoniously tossing Zhao Jiu’s corpse aside. “Yang Qing my friend… For so many years, you’ve escaped and I thought you’ve found somebody powerful enough to stand up for you. Is this the champion you’ve found?” He cast Xiao Chen a cursory smirk filled with disgust and contempt.

“Meng Wuyan… I swear I’ll kill you…” Yang Qing growled, his fists balled and his eyes bloodshot with fury.

Meng Wuyan let out a callous simper. “Heh heh heh heh… I daresay you made that same vow the last time we met. You were watching your sister being ravaged by my men again and again before her Essence Blood was finally bled dry by me then. You said those same words that time, did you not?”

“My sister… Yingying! ARGGGHHH!” Yang Qing roared like a nightmarish beast on the rampage. His voice thundered as he held on to his head as if to clinch on his last remaining shred of sanity even as his two men urged, at a complete loss, “Hold on to yourself, Yang! Calm down!”

Seeing this, Xiao Chen quickly sent a white bolt of his magic into his forehead and that finally calmed him down.

“Heh heh heh heh…” Meng Wuyan sniggered vilely again. “Don’t worry, I’ll never let you die… easily. You require some lessons. Lessons about consequences.”

He turned around and walked casually away, his entire form melting slowly into the darkness. His disembodied voice echoed as if from a distance, saying, “Take this back if you will. I’ll keep the other two for myself. The Wuyan Chamber has a need for fresh meat…”

“J-J-Ji Xiu… C-C-Chang Ning…” whimpered Yang Qing helplessly.

His face began to grow pale white under the influence of the poison. His hand groped at the darkness where Meng Wuyan vanished as he muttered the names of his two other companions and he fainted.

Xiao Chen took a deep breath. This must be the nemesis that Yang Qing had spoken to him about. “That man spoke about Yang Qing’s sister,” he asked, “What about her?”

“Many years ago, that cur of a bitch…” hissed the man holding Yang Qing, “He forced Brother Yang to watched his own little sister defiled by four of his men… Then he absorbed her blood, bleeding her alive… Yingying was only sixteen then…” He shook his head in the end, his eyes closed with grief as he drew in a long, heavy breath. “This was a nightmarish memory for Brother Yang… One that he would rather forget… But he… he swore to take revenge…”

Xiao Chen squeezed his own fingers. No wonder Yang Qing was so enraged that he lost control… He has had to endure such torment… What would happen if I was in his shoes? What would happen if Xian’er was taken…

It was but only a fleeting notion, but the hint of malice flashed through his eyes for a moment. If it was Xian’er who had been taken… He would have killed everyone and his rage would still be no less assuaged.

He did not know why. Just a simple notion and malice budded inside him. It was a form of hatred. A grudge that haunted him whenever he experienced a rise in his emotions would be exemplified, just like the time when he fought against Red Sleeve at the stronghold of the Corpse Refinery Sect.

Xiao Chen drew another breath to help cast aside the needless, if not superfluous, thoughts. He glanced at Zhao Jiu’s corpse and promised in a low tone, “Take Zhao Jiu’s body back. I will save the others.”

He could not ignore what he had seen. Yang Qing and the others were caught by Black Horn only because they were doing his bidding. Their meeting at Mount Wuyue was but a chance encounter, but up until now, they have repaid his kindness then with everything they have—including their own lives.

He took another breath and walked over to examine Yang Qing. The ashen hues on his face growing stronger was a sign that the poison was taking hold. A special concoction unique to Black Horn, Xiao Chen could only delay its effects temporarily. And not being able to remove the poison just now, the emotional upheaval that Yang Qing experienced had made things worse by forcing the poison to spread further inside him.

“There is someone though…” said another man beside him, “Who might be able to cure Brother Yang…”

…

A pale crescent hung mid-sky four hours later into the quiet night. Inside a room wafting with the faint scent of fragrant candles, a woman clad in purple sighed. “Everything was fine up until last night, and yet here you are, a complete mess tonight. Come another hour late and not even the gods shall be able to do anything…”

“My apologies for coming so late, but thank you so much…” said a man apologetically.

“Whatever…” Zi Qin waved dismissively. She reached for her pipe on the table and peered at Yang Qing lying unconscious on the bed. “Don’t worry. He’ll be fine when he wakes up tomorrow.”

“I see. Thank you so much, Miss Zi Qin,” thanked Xiao Chen, bowing deeply.

The woman glanced at him briefly, waving him off and said, “Whatever. I’m not interested in any of your affairs. Even King Shen is cautious of anything that has to do with Black Horn. Yet you… Forget it. I’m leaving.” And she sauntered out the door.

The Illusive Aroma Lane had never allowed anyone to overnight there, but for Xiao Chen, they made an exception. Xiao Chen and his companions stayed until the next morning. When he came to check on Yang Qing, he had barely entered, when Yang Qing leaped from his bed, screaming, “Yingying! Yingying!”

His face was a complete pallid white, although the poison has been purged. Still, beads of cold sweat mottled his body, soaking almost the whole bed and the sheets. Xiao Chen shut the door and said to him, “Are you feeling any better, Brother Yang? It’s me.”

“B-B-Brother Xiao…” Yang Qing stammered, wiping more sweat off his brows, “Where are the others?”

“Don’t worry, Brother Yang, everyone is fine.” He reached for the teapot from the table, emptied the cup of the tea from last night, before pouring him a fresh cup. Parched, an eager Yang Qing upended the cup and drank everything thirstily, looking very much better finally.

Before any of them could say anything, hurried footfalls came from outside. Xiao Chen’s forehead creased uneasily, knowing that the anxious footsteps portended nothing else but trouble. He placed the teapot down on Yang Qing’s bedside table and went to the door, pushing it out. The door swung outwards, revealing Chu Qi and another three of Yang Qing’s men along with Zi Qin.

“What is it?”

“No time to explain! Take Brother Yang, Brother Xiao! We need to go NOW!” said one of the men frantically and Xiao Chen spied the troubled frown on Zi Qin’s face.

Yang Qing heard the commotion from inside. He appeared at the door, with his clothes already put on, and said, “What’s going on?”

“No time to talk! We need to go now, Brother Yang!”

“Use the back door,” Zi Qin hissed grimly, “Follow me.”

It was hardly time for questions, and everyone seemed to agree. They followed Zi Qin’s lead to the rear courtyard until they reached a little compound and there was a well. They peered inside and saw the sparkle of water greeting cheerily from below. “There’s a secret passage at the bottom of the well,” Zi Qin revealed, “I will activate the mechanism that opens the passage. Just follow the passage until you reach the exit. That should bring you out to the suburbs somewhere 5,000 meters away.”

With no one protesting the idea, they threw themselves into the well. Down below, the ice-cold chills of the water pierced through their skins, threatening to burrow right into their bones. Xiao Chen dived below to find a passage and he took the lead, entering it with the others right behind his heels. They entered the passage and slowly, they clambered up a slope allow them to keep their heads out of the water. But it was very dark and cold inside with only the intermittent drips of droplets from somewhere in the distance to accompany them.