Chapter Forty-Three: The Road Ends Where the Mountain Begins

Ye Family’s Rear Mountain.

The sun was already half hidden behind the ridge, leaving a blaze of crimson clouds on the horizon.

A day had passed. Night Endless, his hair disheveled and eyes bloodshot, remained in the pit, staring fixedly at the iron sword he had finally managed to draw toward himself by sheer force of will.

“I did it! Hahahaha!” His laughter was wild, bordering on madness, echoing with an eerie bitterness through the fading light.

After a whole day of relentless effort without rest, Night Endless had finally managed to bring the sword, which had lain five meters away, to his side. He gazed with exhilaration at the sword hovering before him, laughter spilling from his lips.

“Come on now, dig me out! Dig a path for Lord Night!” With a thought, Night Endless sent the sword plunging into the ground—the blade sank in with a thud.

And then—nothing happened.

The sword stood rooted in the earth, unmoving despite his efforts to will it further. No matter how he called upon his power, it ignored him entirely, as if deaf to his commands.

Night Endless’s face turned a deep, livid shade, his heart filled with unspeakable curses. Ten thousand words of frustrated gratitude choked in his throat, nowhere to go.

He tilted his head forty-five degrees toward the sky and cursed aloud, “Damn you, heavens! Are you mocking me? Look, look at all those other protagonists who transmigrate—don’t they all get grand VIP gift packages or golden cheats, divine pets, dragons? But what about me, Lord Night? You could’ve just made me a regular guy, but no, you had to give me the body of a blood fiend overlord—with nine terrifyingly powerful wives! I don’t even dare to meet them, let alone touch them! And if you’re going to give me his body, why not give me his cultivation too? Instead, I’m left cowering, constantly afraid one of those wives will jump out at me and recognize her husband after thousands of years, see through me, and then butcher me! And if that weren’t enough, now I’m inexplicably buried here, unable to get out—are you just waiting for me to die here for your grand ending?”

His furious roars echoed across the small lake.

The Lu Family.

“Haha! Yanran, you are refreshing indeed!” Lu Jie laughed heartily.

“Can I leave now?” Mu Yanran’s voice was icy.

“Haha, don’t be in such a hurry!” Lu Jie’s laughter grew feverish.

Mu Yanran’s expression turned frostier as she snapped, “Lu Jie, what do you mean by this? Are you breaking your word?”

Lu Jie’s face darkened as he stopped laughing. “You think, after drinking what I gave you, you can just walk out of this room?”

Only now did Mu Yanran sense something was wrong—her spiritual power was fading. She glared, “Lu Jie, what did you make me drink?”

“Oh, nothing much—just Spring Night Powder. You know it, don’t you? Hahaha! With your cultivation at the Eighth Heaven, you might last a few minutes, but then you’ll be consumed by fire. Still want to leave?”

“What?!” Mu Yanran’s face drained of color, terror flooding her heart. “You hypocrite!”

“Hypocrite? You little slut, who are you to call me a hypocrite? You’re a whore, your mother was a whore, tortured to death by Mu Qing! I pulled you out of that cesspit of a Mu family, and you think you can repay me and then walk away? You think you can leave?”

“You’re courting death!”

With a crack, the teacup in her hand shattered, blood spilling between Mu Yanran’s fingers and dripping to the floor. A surge of formidable spiritual power exploded from her, forming a protective aura around her body.

“You—you’re not just at the Body Tempering stage. You—you’re in the Spirit Gathering realm! You—” Lu Jie stammered, lost for words.

A Spirit Gathering cultivator, even after taking Spring Night Powder, could last at least half an hour—more than enough time for Mu Yanran to kill him dozens of times over! In all of Ling City, there were fewer than thirty Spirit Gathering experts, and Lu Jie could never have imagined that this young girl had already reached such a level!

“So, you hypocrite—die!” A ball of green spiritual power coiled around Mu Yanran’s palm as she struck at Lu Jie’s face.

Bang!

Lu Jie, panicked, raised his arms to defend himself, but Mu Yanran’s blow sent him flying. A sharp crack signaled the breaking of bone.

“Aaaah!”

“Help! Someone, help me!” The agony of his broken arm twisted Lu Jie’s face in torment, but he still screamed for help.

As Mu Yanran advanced with cold, murderous intent in her eyes, Lu Jie’s heart pounded in time with her footsteps—thud, thud, thud! He scrambled backward on the floor, arms crossed protectively, legs kicking in desperation.

“Yan—Yanran, you can’t kill me! We—we’re married, we’ve already gone through the rites—”

Before he could finish, Mu Yanran was upon him, seizing his throat.

For the first time, Lu Jie stared death in the face. With a single squeeze, Mu Yanran could end his life.

He thrashed and kicked, eyes bulging in terror, panic and dread written across his face.

“You hypocrite! You deserve to die!” With a final twist of her hand, Lu Jie’s eyes rolled back.

Lu Jie—dead.

There was a frantic pounding at the door.

“Young master, are you all right?” a voice called from outside.

Someone’s coming! Mu Yanran realized.

“It’s nothing. Get lost!” she said coldly, wiping blood from her hand.

“But, but madam, I heard the young master screaming!” the voice hesitated. “Madam, please, let the young master speak!”

Damn it! My spiritual power is fading—I have to get out of here! Mu Yanran thought. She’d spent over half a month in this room and knew its layout well. Without hesitation, she smashed through the window and bounded away, leaping swiftly from rooftop to rooftop.

“Madam, can you hear me?” called the voice outside.

Why is it so quiet? No matter—better check inside. The guard outside grew more uneasy the longer he waited.

Bang!

The door was kicked open. A Lu family guard burst in.

Inside, the table was split in two, and blood trickled from the corner of Lu Jie’s mouth.

“Help! Something’s happened to the young master!” the guard shouted, rushing to lift Lu Jie. He pressed his fingers to Lu Jie’s neck…

...

“What did you say? Jie’er is dead? How?!” Lu Wushuang seized the guard by the collar, livid with rage.

“M-master, it was—”

“What was it?! Out with it, or I’ll skin you alive!” Lu Wushuang’s eyes blazed with fury.

He had only two sons; the elder was away training all year, rarely returning home. Now, his youngest son, always by his side, had been killed. How could Lu Wushuang not be furious?

“It was the young madam!” the guard blurted.

“What?! Where is she?” Lu Wushuang roared.

“She—she escaped!” the guard stammered, shrinking from his master’s wrath.

“She dared to kill my son and run? Go after her! Bring that wench back! I’ll make sure she dies in agony!” Lu Wushuang threw the guard aside and bellowed.

“Yes, sir!”

Several men received their orders and withdrew swiftly.

“Mu Shan, you owe me an explanation!” Lu Wushuang turned to a young man seated quietly below, sipping tea.

“An explanation? What explanation do you want? Since Yanran married into your family, she’s your responsibility. What does the Mu family owe you? For the sake of your ambitions, my father Mu Qing lost his life—surely that’s explanation enough?” Mu Shan’s expression was grim.

“Enough, Master! We’re all in the same boat—don’t fight among ourselves. Right now, we should be discussing how to deal with the Ye family!” the Lu family’s elder intervened.

Ye Family.

“Report, Master! We’ve received word from our spy in the Lu household!”

“What news? Speak quickly!” Ye Yunlong demanded.

“Master, our agent says Lu Jie has been killed by Mu Yanran!”

“Hahaha! Excellent! Wonderful news! I’d love to see that old dog Lu Wushuang’s face right now! Hahahaha!” Ye Yunlong laughed heartily.

“How soon will our brothers from Qingfeng Pass arrive?” he asked another subordinate.

“Master, the letter says they’re less than twenty li away—riding hard to get here!” the man replied respectfully.

“Very good! Gather our forces—let’s go! I can’t wait to see Lu Wushuang’s face!” Ye Yunlong waved his hand and strode out confidently.

“Kill!”

“Kill!”

“Kill!”

...

In the wilds between forest and river—

Mu Yanran, dressed in a blazing red bridal gown, ran swiftly along the river’s edge.

A dozen or so figures pursued her relentlessly, thirty meters behind.

Mu Yanran’s condition was worsening—her face was flushed, fragrant sweat streaming, her hair and gown soaked through.

Clutching a bloodstained sword, she had already ambushed and slain more than half of the fifteen Body Tempering experts sent after her. The survivors, wary of her power but noticing her declining state, kept their distance, choosing to wear her down rather than fight her head-on.

She’d barely managed to break out, and the remainder dared not follow too closely, content to exhaust her from afar.

“Damn these bastards!” Mu Yanran cursed inwardly, her gaze growing hazy.

No—I absolutely cannot let them catch me. I haven’t avenged my mother or killed that beast Mu Qing. I can’t die! Clinging to this last bit of clarity, she bit her tongue.

Pain flooded her body, and her mind cleared a little.

Huh? Why are there so many pits here? Mu Yanran hadn’t realized she’d followed the river into a region riddled with craters.

Intent on shaking her pursuers, she vaulted over pit after pit. The farther she ran, the more pits there were.

She leapt over a large boulder—and landed—

Suddenly, she halted in her tracks.

Before her lay a white head—more precisely, a head crowned with long white hair—gazing skyward at a forty-five degree angle…