Jiang Cheng spoke grimly, “Break his legs? Haven’t I told you? If you see this sort of evil and crooked practice, kill the cultivator and feed him to your dogs!”
Wei WuXian couldn’t even attempt to grab his donkey, backing away at rapid speed. He thought that, after so many years, no matter how much hatred Jiang Cheng had held for him, it would have disappeared long ago. He didn’t expect that not only did it not disappear, it became richer, as if it was a jar of aged alcohol. At the present time, his hatred had grown to affect even people who cultivated like him!
With someone backing him up, Jin Ling’s attacks became more aggressive. Wei WuXian slid two fingers into the spirit-locking bag, about to take something out, when suddenly, the blue glare of a sword slashed out like lightning. It collided with Jin Ling’s sword, breaking the powerful sword’s golden rays in an instant.
It wasn’t because of the quality of the swords, but rather the great disparity in the strengths of the persons using the swords. Wei WuXian had originally calculated the timing, but his movements were suddenly interrupted by the sword’s glare, causing him to trip. He fell toward the ground, right on top of a pair of snow-white boots. After pausing for a moment, he slowly lifted his head.
What first came into his sight was a long, slender blade, crystalline and translucent, as if it was made of ice.
In the cultivation world, this sword was one of the most famous ones. Wei WuXian had experienced its powers countless times, including both battles fought beside it and against it. The hilt of the sword was forged from pure silver that had been refined with secret techniques. The blade of the sword was extremely thin, almost transparent, sending forth the cold breaths of ice and snow. However, at the same time, it could cut through iron like cutting through mud. This was why, although the sword looked light, as if it could fly away any instant, it was actually quite heavy, unable to be wielded by the average person.
Its name was “Bichen.”
The blade turned, and the clank of the sword being inserted back into the scabbard sounded from above Wei WuXian. At the same time, Jiang Cheng’s voice came from afar, “And I was wondering who it was. So, it is you, Second Young Master Lan.”
The pair of white boots passed around Wei WuXian and calmly walked three steps forward. Wei WuXian raised his head and got up. As he walked past the former, slightly brushing their shoulders, he made eye contact with him for a short moment, pretending that it was unintentional.
He had an aura of smooth moonlight. The seven-stringed zither that he carried on his back was narrower than most. Its body was black, made using wood of soft color.
The man wore a forehead ribbon with cloud patterns. His skin was fair, features both refined and elegant, as if he was a piece of polished jade. The color of his eyes was especially light, like they were made of colored glass, causing his gaze to be overly distant. His expression held the traces of frost and snow, stern to the degree of being stiff, unwavering even as he saw Wei WuXian’s ridiculous face.
There wasn’t a single spec of dust or wrinkled spot on him, from his head to his feet. It was impossible to find any fault with his appearance. Even so, two capitalized words jumped into Wei WuXian’s mind.
Mourning clothes!
Mourning clothes, indeed. Although all of the clans in the cultivation world used extravagant words to describe the GusuLan Sect’s uniform as the best-looking uniform and Lan WangJi as an incomparable beauty who only appeared once in a blue moon, nothing could help the bitter facial expression that made him look as though his wife had passed away.
In an unlucky year, enemies would often find their paths to cross; good news always traveled alone, but one disaster always followed the next… Thus, the situation right now.
Lan WangJi was silent, staring straight ahead, standing motionlessly in front of Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng was already exceptionally handsome, but as they stood face to face with each other, he still seemed a few degrees inferior. He raised one brow and spoke, “HanGuang-Jun, you sure live up to your reputation of ‘being wherever the chaos is’. So, you had time to come to this remote area today?”
Powerful cultivators from prominent clans usually didn’t care to pay attention to lower level preys. However, Lan WangJi was an exception. He never cared for the prey of a night-hunt, and wouldn’t refuse to go just because the creature was not threatening enough to increase his fame. If anyone wanted help, he would be there. He had been like this ever since he was young. “Being wherever the chaos is” was the comment that the public gave him for his night-hunts and, also, praise for his moral character. Right now, Jiang Cheng really didn’t seem too polite as he said the words in such a tone. Even the juniors who came following Lan WangJi didn’t seem comfortable hearing it.
Lan JingYi spoke straightforwardly, “Isn’t Sect Leader Jiang here as well?”
Jiang Cheng replied grimly, “Tsk, do you really think that you should butt in when your seniors are conversing? The GusuLan Sect has always been known for its respectful conduct. Is this really how it teaches its disciples?”
Lan WangJi seemed as if he didn’t want to engage in conversation, throwing Lan SiZhui a look. The latter understood and told the juniors to speak among themselves. Afterward, he spoke to Jin Ling, “Young Master Jin, night-hunts have always been fair competitions amongst the different clans and sects. However, to set up nets all over Dafan Mountain is clearly hindering the cultivators, causing them to fall into the traps. Is this or is this not against the rules of night-hunting?”
Jin Ling’s grim expression was exactly the same as his uncle’s, “What can I do? It was their own fault for stepping into the traps. I’ll solve everything after I finish capturing the prey.”
Lan WangJi frowned. Jin Ling was about to speak again, but he suddenly realized that, shockingly, he could neither open his mouth nor make any sounds. Seeing that Jin Ling’s upper and lower lips became inseparable as if they were glued together, anger appeared on Jiang Cheng’s face. The sloppy manners that he upheld before this were all gotten rid of, “You, with the Lan surname! What do you mean by this? It’s not your turn to discipline Jin Ling yet, so release the spell, now!”
The silence spell was used by the Lan Sect to reprimand its disciples. Wei WuXian had suffered a ton from this little trick. Although it wasn’t anything too complicated or obscure, only people of the Lan Clan could release the spell. If one wanted to forcibly speak, it would result in either their lips being ripped bloody or a hoarse throat for a couple of days. The only solution was to stay silent and reflect upon the wrongdoings until the time limit of the punishment was over. Lan SiZhui spoke, “Sect Leader Jiang, there is no need for anger. As long as he does not break the spell forcefully, it would release on its own, after thirty minutes.”
Before Jiang Cheng opened his mouth to speak, a purple-clothed man in the Jiang Sect’s uniform ran toward them from within the forest. He shouted, “Sect Leader!” However, after seeing Lan WangJi’s presence, he hesitated. Jiang Cheng spoke satirically, “Talk. Is there more bad news?”
The man spoke in a low voice, “Not long ago, a blue sword flew over and destroyed the deity-binding nets that you had set up.”
Jiang Cheng glanced at Lan WangJi harshly, his displease plastered all over his face, “How many were broken?”