Chapter Forty-Five: Subduing the Enemy with the Seal

Outside Yun Shangmo’s courtyard, a few soft birdcalls sounded in the night. With a creak, the window opened, and a figure dressed in black slipped into the courtyard as nimbly as a cat, entering the room through the window.

A candle flame flickered to life, illuminating the face of a gaunt man. He had already pulled off his black scarf, revealing hair at his temples streaked with white.

Yun Shangmo bent over to pour tea. The man in black seemed uneasy, sensing that something was amiss tonight though he couldn’t say exactly what. Impatience colored his voice: “Don’t bother with all this. I’ll be leaving shortly.”

Yun Shangmo raised his head, speaking in an unhurried tone. “Elder Chen, you’re in such a hurry tonight? It’s already the third watch. Haven’t you always been most interested in that maid of mine?”

“That’s enough, spare me the chatter. I don’t have time tonight. We need to confirm the information you sent—has your clan truly mobilized disciples for a secret undertaking?”

Unhappiness flickered across Yun Shangmo’s face. He replied in a muffled voice, “Elder Chen, do you doubt me? I may have little influence within the clan, but my grandfather is the clan chief. Naturally, my information is reliable.”

“That’s good. But have you found out what the undertaking is?”

“I’m afraid only those directly involved would know that. No one else stands a chance.”

“That’s troublesome!” Elder Chen’s eyelids drooped as he drawled, “If you can’t even manage this, what use would there be in supporting you in the future?”

Yun Shangmo’s expression darkened to the point water could be wrung from it. “Elder Chen, you go too far. I am not so easily replaced. Surely it wouldn’t be easy for you to find another insider.”

Elder Chen let out a sinister laugh. “We’re all in the same boat now. Once you’re aboard, it’s not so easy to step off, is it?”

“You’re threatening me?” Yun Shangmo erupted in fury, standing up abruptly and glaring daggers at him.

Elder Chen didn’t even lift his eyelids. “And if I am?”

Yun Shangmo stared him down as if he might devour him whole, then suddenly smiled lightly. “I can tell you what I know, but this isn’t a compromise—it’s a transaction.”

A slight change came over Elder Chen’s face. This young man was clearly not to be underestimated. Fortunately, his ambition had blinded him to reason, making him useful.

“Let’s hear if it’s worth anything.”

Yun Shangmo picked up his teacup, twirling it gently. “I don’t know what the plan is…”

He was cut off by Elder Chen’s harsh rebuke: “Then what are you babbling about? Are you toying with me?”

At that moment, another wave of unease swept over Elder Chen. His back felt cold, as if he stood exposed and naked before a crowd, and his agitation deepened.

Yun Shangmo’s face stiffened. His lips moved, but he refrained from retorting. Instead, he continued, “But I do know someone who certainly knows the plan—and it seems the entire undertaking centers around him.”

“Who is it?”

“Yun Yufeng.”

“That so-called wastrel? Yun Shangmo, have you lost your mind or been kicked in the head by a donkey? Could you be any more absurd?” Elder Chen erupted. “If it’s meaningless, it’s not worth our effort. Hmph!”

Yun Shangmo’s face was cold enough to freeze. His pupils contracted, but he could only endure it. Elder Chen was right—once on this boat, it wasn’t so easy to get off. But Yun Shangmo needed to use their power at least once more, since his previous plot had failed and left him with a thorn in his side.

“If I hadn’t been caught in the act, the clan wouldn’t have done anything to me, let alone believed your nonsense. As the clan chief’s grandson, I have no reason to betray my clan. You needn’t worry too much,” Yun Shangmo said coolly. “I take what I need, you get what you want—everyone benefits, don’t we? Even if Yun Yufeng seems like a far-fetched lead, I have no reason to waste your time.”

Elder Chen’s tone softened slightly. “Are you certain you can get answers from Yun Yufeng?”

“Of course. No doubt about it.”

“I’ll take my leave, then. Inform us if there’s any news.” Elder Chen could no longer suppress the unease in his heart. He rose and departed.

Meanwhile, Yun Yufeng sat cross-legged on his bed, a wisp of spiritual power trailing around him as he monitored the black-clad man’s movements. Seeing the man head straight toward his own courtyard after leaving Yun Shangmo’s, Yun Yufeng smiled, stood up, and melted into the shadows, quietly awaiting his visitor.

He made no sound. Although he knew the intruder’s cultivation was higher than his own—at least mid-sixth tier—he remained unafraid. On clan grounds, he trusted he could hold out until the clan chief arrived to help, and the intruder would not dare make a commotion.

Soon, the man in black arrived at Yun Yufeng’s courtyard, slipping in through the window without pause. His skills were formidable, his gaze keen and unimpeded by the darkness.

He yanked the quilt aside—only to find the bed empty. Where would the youth be at this hour if not in bed? Without hesitation, the man decided to withdraw; an unusual sense of danger prickled at him.

Just as he was about to leave, a calm voice sounded in the room. “Friend, it’s so late and you seem in such a hurry. Why not stay for a drink?”

A crisp snap of fingers—and the lamp on the table flared to life. Dressed in blue, Yun Yufeng stood by the curtain, smiling, his jet-black eyes reflecting the candlelight, tranquil as a sea of stars.

The man in black froze. He finally understood the source of the unease that had plagued him all night. The instant this youth appeared, that disquiet vanished completely. Yet it did not relax him; on the contrary, his expression grew more grave. How could such a youth wield such influence, silently affecting him? Was Yun Shangmo attempting to use him as a knife, or was it this youth who was the true blade?

“Friend? Cat got your tongue?” Yun Yufeng called out again when the man remained motionless.

The intruder did not grow angry at the impertinent question but asked uncertainly, “Yun Yufeng?”

Yun Yufeng smiled, revealing a set of white teeth. “Friend, you’re so familiar with the Yun Estate—surely you haven’t wandered into the wrong room?”

A chill ran through the man’s heart as his last hope of escape evaporated. Tonight, he might not even have a chance to get away. But how could the notorious wastrel have changed so much?

In a flash, the man made his decision. He steadied his mind, let out a harsh laugh, and his longsword shimmered with a faint glow. Swish, swish, swish—one strike faster than the last. Instantly the room was filled with flashing sword light. The man unleashed all his skills, aiming not to kill Yun Yufeng, but merely to break free.

Yun Yufeng’s lips curled in a cold smile. In an instant, his immense spiritual power swept out to cover the clan chief’s quarters, its violent fluctuations instantly rousing the chief, who threw off his quilt and followed the surge of power.

At the same time, Yun Yufeng was far from idle. A gleam flashed, and Autumn Water was in his hand—his swordplay light and graceful, like a startled swan or a dragon in flight.

The sharpness of Autumn Water made him indifferent to the intruder’s flurry of sword strikes. Even if he held no sword, what could the man do? Purple energy gathered in his left palm, which he quietly thrust toward the man’s chest.

Three crisp metallic clangs rang out, followed by the thunderous sound of fists and palms exchanging blows.

The intruder’s sword shattered into three pieces. His left arm hung limp and useless by his side. Shock written across his face, he staggered back, nearly falling.

In that brief clash, he’d clearly felt that his own battle aura was ten times as powerful as the youth’s. Yet each of Yun Yufeng’s palm strikes retreated after contact, one wave after another, endlessly stacking. What began as weak attacks compounded, ignoring the defenses of his flesh and exploding directly within—his arm’s meridians shattered and bones nearly splintered.

He was astounded by Autumn Water’s keen edge and intimidated by Yun Yufeng’s strength.

With only half a sword left, the man flung it at Yun Yufeng and retreated at full speed. With a crash, he smashed through the wall, disappearing into the night like a ghost.

Yun Yufeng didn’t pursue. His gaze, cold as ice, tracked the fleeing man, but he stood motionless. He knew the clan chief was already outside; the man in black would not escape. Tonight, he was doomed.

He raised his left hand, now dripping with blood. Even with the enhancement of the amethyst crystal, the difference in cultivation was stark. Though his layered palm strikes had caught the intruder off-guard and dealt heavy damage, his own left hand was also injured—joints snapped, muscles torn.

The door creaked open a crack and little Cuinong poked her head inside, muttering sleepily, “Young master, what’s all this noise?”

She rubbed her eyes, looked again, then shrieked and dashed into the room. “Young master, what happened? Your hand is covered in blood! Come to my room, I’ll bandage it for you.”

Yun Yufeng smiled at the anxious young maid. “It’s nothing, just a minor wound. How about a walk with me?”

Cuinong glanced around uncertainly; beyond the ruined wall, darkness reigned. “It’s so dark outside. Should we really go out? And what happened to the wall? Was someone here just now and hurt you? We should go to my room—it’s too dangerous outside.”

He shook his head and laughed. “If I say it’s safe, then it is. Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do, but your hand—are you really all right?”

Yun Yufeng simply smiled. Blue light flowed from his right hand, and a gentle healing dew gathered, enveloping his wounded left hand. Before her astonished eyes, the wounds closed rapidly, fresh skin forming and the scabs beginning to peel away.

He walked slowly forward, Cuinong holding a lantern and casting curious glances at his hand. In a short time, the wound had already healed over, the blood crust flaking away.

[Editor’s note: Zhulang’s hot novel recommendations now online. Click to bookmark.]