Chapter 117 : A Tit-for-Tat Confrontation

Gradually, some people seemed to realize that they were not in immediate danger, and their panic began to subside.

“Isn’t that True Monarch Qinghe, Wen Shili? Didn’t he die already?”

“And the other one… isn’t that Lord Fuhua, Shen Yu, who disappeared a long time ago?”

“That’s the Puppetry Technique!”

Only then did the crowd notice the thin, hair-like threads of spiritual energy connecting the man on the stage to Wen Shili.

Ten fingers, each controlling ten threads, manipulating different parts of Wen Shili’s body!

This made Wen Shili seem less like a corpse and more like a living person, moving with fluidity.

Wen Shili had been at the Great Ascension stage of cultivation. When he was killed, it was only because the four major sects had overwhelming numbers, and he had been mentally unstable. Now, as a spirit puppet, he had become a mindless killing machine.

Even the blade of his sword was enveloped in a faint glow, capable of breaking through protective barriers.

Shen Yu, though highly skilled in medicine, was only at the Nascent Soul stage of cultivation. Of course, he couldn’t win…

Who could?

Perhaps only Yin Buqi, the most powerful cultivator in the current cultivation world, would stand a chance against him.

Jiang Ziyou was trembling, but not out of fear. It was an overwhelming mix of grief and rage.

His master…

Zhao Anming had turned his master into a spirit puppet!

He’s insane…

Truly insane!

Shen Yu couldn’t win and could only keep dodging, but Wen Shili showed no mercy.

“Pfft!”

The long sword in Wen Shili’s hand pierced through Shen Yu’s right shoulder.

Shen Yu’s hand turned pale from blood loss. Though he tried to suppress it, his fingertips still trembled slightly. His light pink spring robe was soaked in blood, which seeped down from his sleeve to his elbow.

Shen Yu gasped for breath, then smiled bitterly, gritting his teeth as he said, “I really underestimated you, Zhao Anming.”

Zhao Anming, while controlling Wen Shili, spoke up: “Shen Yu, do you know how long I’ve waited for this day?”

“My father was at the Divine Transformation stage, and his health was always good. But the medical cultivators who came to examine him always said his pulse was abnormal. I didn’t think much of it at the time, until the day he died. That’s when I realized something was wrong. Following the clues, I discovered that you had added the catalyst for the Double Life Gu to his medicine! You killed him!”

Shen Yu stared at him, his eyes filled with rage and violence, the veins in his neck trembling: “He deserved it!”

“I wanted to kill you back in Qinghe Town, but you managed to survive. You told Wen Shili how to save Jiang Ziyou, so Wen Shili would definitely protect you. To kill you, I had to find a way to kill Wen Shili first.”

Zhao Anming’s fingertips were also trembling, cold and icy. The more he spoke, the more agitated he became: “So, I manipulated the spirits, letting Jiang Ziyou know about the Memorial Tablet, turning master and disciple against each other. This exposed Wen Shili’s crime of using the blood of thousands to nourish the South Sea Mermaid Wood. Sure enough, Wen Shili died.”

Jiang Ziyou gripped his Feiying Liuyun Sword, closing his eyes in pain as he murmured, “Master…”

He didn’t care anymore.

Love, hate—it had all faded away. All he wanted was for his master to be by his side.

“But just when I finally got rid of Wen Shili, you seemed to have discovered something and hid in Qingqiu. I had no choice but to self-destruct, using the Puppetry Technique to lure you out. You care so much about Shen Susu, so I knew you’d come out.”

At that moment, Wen Shili’s sword flipped, spiritual energy surging as it carried the force of a thousand thunderbolts, stabbing straight toward Shen Yu!

Caught off guard, Shen Yu could only shift his body slightly to avoid a fatal blow, but the sword still pierced through his collarbone.

The difference in strength was still too great.

A fierce, hateful smile appeared on Shen Yu’s lips: “You’re insane!”

“Yes! I am insane, driven mad by you!”

Hearing this, Shen Yu’s eyes turned bloodshot, and he roared hoarsely: “Do you think your father was a good man?! When he followed that dog Yin to slaughter my entire clan, do you know how I felt?! Do you know how much pain I was in?!!”

Jiang Niannian was horrified: So, the person who had spoken with Yin Ruoxu back then was Zhao Anming’s father, Zhao Shang! No wonder, when Zhao Shang was alive, he had selflessly shouldered most of the expenses for Rimuli.

And Zhao Anming, a carefree, untalented young master with no cultivation—even if he had some talent, even after ten years of cultivation, he would only be at the Golden Core stage. There was no way he could kill Shen Yu. So, he turned to dark methods. Step by step, he meticulously plotted, his hands stained with blood, sinking into the abyss.

Zhao Anming was stunned for a moment, then said, “When I was young, I was sickly. The medical cultivators said I wouldn’t live past twenty. My father had no choice. He took the Wei clan’s skin to save me.”

“No choice? Hah.”

Shen Yu was stabbed in the collarbone again by Wen Shili’s sword.

He sneered, “Who doesn’t have a reason? Why should your father’s reasons be built on the lives of others?!!”

Zhao Anming fell silent for a moment, then looked up, his eyelashes trembling, tears glistening in his eyes: “It’s time to avenge my father!”

As he spoke, Wen Shili’s sword created a sky full of sword shadows, swift as thunder and wind, directly attacking Shen Yu.

Shen Yu’s pupils contracted. He instinctively raised his sword, but then, with a heart full of despair, he lowered it again.

He couldn’t win.

As countless sword shadows fell, in the blink of an eye, a black flame appeared.

Shen Yu disappeared.

Jiang Niannian and Yin Buqi exchanged a glance, both filled with disbelief.

Again!

What did that person want, taking away Tang Murou and Shen Yu?!

Zhao Anming was horrified, crumbling like a withered leaf.

He collapsed to the ground, crawling in disbelief toward the spot where Shen Yu had disappeared.

There was a pool of blood, but no body.

His hands trembled as he groped the ground, smearing blood everywhere, trying to find something, but there was nothing.

“How could this be… Where’s Shen Yu?” Zhao Anming murmured, his eyes bloodshot. Suddenly, he burst into laughter, “Hahahaha—how could this be? Shen Yu escaped—I still couldn’t kill him, I still couldn’t kill him! Who was it? Who saved him?—Hahahaha—”

He laughed and laughed, then began to cry. His hoarse laughter echoed throughout the Linglang Pavilion, his face twisted beyond recognition.

“Zhao Anming!”

Jiang Niannian suddenly opened her eyes wide, shouting in terror.

Yin Buqi said, “It seems the Puppetry Technique is starting to backfire.”

Zhao Anming closed his eyes, his black hair rapidly turning white, his face aging. Blood poured from his mouth, nose, eyes, and ears.

The threads in his hands snapped one by one. In the next second, both Wen Shili and Zhao Anming collapsed into the pool of blood.

Someone exclaimed, “Hey, I can move!”

“It seems the barrier is broken!”

“Master!” Jiang Ziyou was the first to rush out, holding Wen Shili’s body, his voice choked with sobs: “Master, I’m here. I don’t hate you anymore. I won’t leave. I’ll stay by your side… Master…”

Yin Buqi walked over, looking down coldly at the ground, and asked, “Where’s Yin Ci?”

By now, Zhao Anming was bleeding from all seven orifices, aged and frail, utterly disheveled. He spoke haltingly: “His soul shattered… I couldn’t make him into a spirit puppet… He’s in the spirit pool at my home… recovering…”

After saying this, he looked at Jiang Niannian and actually smiled.

He still remembered his words from years ago: “Fairy… I said I wanted to marry you… I meant it… It wasn’t a joke… Yesterday, when I hugged you… I was so happy…”

Jiang Niannian cried, feeling heartbroken: “Zhao Anming…”

Zhao Anming swallowed a mouthful of blood, his voice hoarse: “I must look so old now… so ugly… All these years… I’ve been living like a coward… First, to avenge my father… Second… to see you a few more times… I was afraid that if I died… I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t be able to…”

Zhao Anming’s eyes gradually lost focus. The spirited young man she remembered had become this wrinkled, bloodied old man.

Zhao Anming never did get to marry his fairy.

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