Chapter 51: Dead End?

The courtyard was dead silent.

Ding Chunqiu’s headless corpse lay slumped on the side, fresh blood slowly trickling into the grooves on the ground.

Qiao Feng had considered countless possibilities, yet he never imagined that Zhang Chengyi would strike with such absolute decisiveness.

Thinking of the commoners and the Beggar Sect disciples who might have died because of this, a sudden wave of sorrow washed over his expression. Was there anyone to blame?

It seemed truly impossible. Even if they had compromised, would Ding Chunqiu have handed over the antidote?

All of this remained an unknown.

Because he had anticipated it, Su Xinghe merely let out a silent sigh. Though his heart felt a pang of reluctance, from a purely rational perspective, Old Master Zhang’s actions might have been overly prompt and ruthless, but they were by no means wrong.

Compromising with a villain like Ding Chunqiu was something that should never be done.

Nearby, Murong Bo, who had been attempting to circulate his internal energy to expel the poison only to fail, opened his eyes. Driven by a mixture of anger and fear, his facial muscles twitched.

When it came to his son facing death, he had felt a measure of helplessness; but now that his own life was on the line, the fury originating from the depths of his soul made him wish he could tear Zhang Chengyi apart on the spot.

However, the vast disparity in their strength meant that his rage lasted no longer than a fleeting flash.

Duan Yanqing remained entirely calm. A classic book states: When the crimes of the Shang are full to the brim, the Mandate of Heaven shall destroy it. The idiom "loaded with iniquities" evolved from this concept, and its meaning was straightforward—having committed too many evils, the time for destruction had arrived.

He had long since prepared himself for the consequences of his own boundless sins.

As for whether Duan Yu was his son, since it was unverified, it was naturally not his place to worry about it.

"Old Su, you mentioned earlier that if we could find the primary toxic agent within the blended poison, there would be a chance to break it, is that correct?"

Zhang Chengyi seemed free of any psychological burden, asking in a very relaxed tone.

Su Xinghe hesitated for a moment before replying, "Reporting to Old Master Zhang, I do not have absolute certainty. If it happens to be a poison never seen before..."

Putting aside the difficulty of identifying the primary toxin within the mixture, even if it were found, if time was of the essence, he would need to test it on animals or even humans. Whether an antidote could be researched in a short period remained a complete unknown.

Zhang Chengyi nodded and said, "I suspect the poison Ding Chunqiu used originated from the escaped Duan Yu. He once swallowed the King of All Poisons, the Manggu Zhuha. I recall that the poisonous vapor of that creature can dissolve a person into a pool of pus and blood."

Because he was planning to head to Dali, he had reviewed the novel *Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils* in his memory just a few days ago, and he remembered it clearly.

Su Xinghe did not doubt the head of the family's words in the least. He immediately grasped the implication and instructed Xue Muhua, "Muhua, go find some living creatures nearby, and also..."

---

And the second task was to find a few people who had not been infected with the mixed poison, so that the toxicity could be tested to formulate an antidote.

Such words certainly could not be spoken too bluntly.

"Understood." As a disciple and a miraculous physician, Xue Muhua naturally understood the unspoken command. He turned and left once again.

Murong Bo’s eyes suddenly flickered with life. The impulse to do something vicious to disgust the other party right before death was forcefully suppressed in the depths of his heart. Given the chance to continue living, who would actually want to die?

[This old fellow definitely had some malicious thoughts just now. As expected, I should just get rid of him.]

Zhang Chengyi’s gaze swept across everyone's faces and finally settled on Murong Bo, thinking to himself.

He had already prepared to leave temporarily, only to be disgusted by Ding Chunqiu. Next, he had no desire to make a personal trip to Dali—it was pointless. He would let the Eight Freaks of Hangu continue their work, return to Leigu Mountain to study external martial arts and actual combat, and prepare to move on to the next world.

He could always return later when he had free time. Since he could regulate the passage of time for his body—provided he controlled the flow rate so it wasn't too fast—he could always come back for a visit whenever the mood struck.

Thus, leaving Murong Bo alive seemed to hold no meaning whatsoever.

"Old Qiao," Zhang Chengyi called out.

Murong Bo knew something was amiss. Gathering his internal energy, he raised his hand and unleashed a rapid succession of Multi-Nirvana Finger strikes. Before he could even see whether his attack had taken effect, a blur crossed his vision, a heavy pressure struck the back of his head, and his body involuntarily pitched forward. His internal energy melted away instantly like white snow under a blazing sun.

"Thud!"

---

Outside the city of Suzhou, along a secluded path.

"Hoo..."

Duan Yu walked with uneven steps, likely suffering from the lingering aftermath of Ding Chunqiu’s torment compounded by his unrecovered physical strength. No sooner had he run out of the city of Suzhou than he felt his entire body grow weak. Though his internal energy was abundant, it could not make up for his physical depletion.

[Goddess Sister...] Having just narrowly escaped death, what still lingered in his mind was the unforgettable Goddess Sister.

This obsession of his would only gradually fade after his parents died, his true heritage was revealed, and he eventually ascended the throne. Even now, enduring such agony, he still viewed Ding Chunqiu as the sole villain, never once suspecting that his "Goddess Sister" had been an accomplice.

"Whoosh!"

The sound of garments frictioning against the air rang out from behind. Duan Yu instinctively spun around and thrust out the index finger of his right hand. The Surge Sword technique was swift and nimble, and an intangible sword Qi instantly burst forth, startling even himself out of fear that he might harm the newcomer.

"Bang!" With a soft sound, the sword Qi vanished into thin air. He felt his body grow light, his neck tighten, and he was hoisted into the air.

"Young Master Duan, we meet again." Turning his head sideways, he realized he was being carried and 'flown' back toward the city of Suzhou. The person's other hand was also carrying Kumarajiva, the foreign monk who had just seen him off.

Duan Yu opened his mouth to speak, but the rushing air forced its way in. After swallowing a breath that was both sudden and chilling, he was choked into a fit of hiccups, forcing the words back down into his stomach.

While it had taken him nearly three quarters of an hour of running with the Limping Fairy's Directional Steps to cover the distance, the person carrying them brought them back to Ding Laoguai's residence in less than a quarter of an hour.

In the courtyard at that moment, several unfamiliar people stood led by a tall, imposing man. The headless corpse dressed in Ding Chunqiu’s robes lay off to one side, Duan Yanqing, the leader of the Four Evils, stood alone in a corner, and an unfamiliar gray-robed monk sat on the ground with an ash-pale face.

"Is he Duan Yu?"

"Yes."

The tall man and Duan Yanqing exchanged a brief question and answer. Shortly after, Duan Yu felt as though he were riding the mists and clouds as he was handed over to a short, thin elder. The moment his acupoints were sealed, he thought to himself that it was a bad sign—he was probably going to accumulate a bit more internal energy.

Yet when the cultivation technique inside his body began to circulate, there was no reaction whatsoever.

"Old Master Zhang, the martial art this kid practices is our sect's Northern Kunpeng Divine Art." The elder said with a trace of surprise.

The sect of the Goddess Sister?

Duan Yu thought in a daze, before a sudden sharp pain pricked his finger. A bead of blood dripped down and fell into a porcelain bottle. Having his blood drawn by Ding Chunqiu repeatedly over this period had made him numb to the sensations of sharp pain and bloodletting.

Immediately afterward, in a daze, he was once again escorted into the side chamber. Looking at the familiar room and the several young women who were still unconscious, he instinctively sat down on the edge of the bed, sighed that calamities were bound to repeat themselves, and resigned himself to his fate.

What else could he possibly do?

An hour later, the short, thin elder entered again to draw blood. Unlike Ding Chunqiu, this man politely stated that it was to save the people of Suzhou city. Whether he believed it or not carried no real meaning—with men as the cleaver and chopping block and him as the fish, he could only respond with silence.

Several more hours passed, and the sun tilted toward the west. The short, thin elder and another person entered the room. The two of them spent a long time taking his pulse and studying his features before finally leading him out into the courtyard.

"Old Master Zhang, the toxicity in this kid's body is far too fierce. Living creatures touch it and die instantly. Even a robust man who comes into contact with it will lose all strength within the snap of a finger, and his body will stiffen in less than a quarter of an hour."

The short, thin elder sighed and said, "This path leads to a dead end."

"In other words, if the person poisoned has a sufficiently strong constitution, they will be able to live longer?"

The man addressed as Old Master Zhang asked thoughtfully.