Jianghu Demolition Squad

Danger at The Tomb of the King (Part Nine)

The crowd surged forward rapidly, swooping towards Yang Chun like hungry tigers diving for food. Terrified, Yang Chun used his lightness skill to dodge repeatedly, crying out in grievance, “Qing Jiu, you are really too unfair!” Holding the Aihong sword, it had already become a hot potato.

Yang Chun darted chaotically, drawing the mass of pursuers left and right with his exceptional lightness skill. Despite being outnumbered, his skill in evasion meant no one could catch him as he fled.

Among the pursuers were twenty to thirty individuals, each showcasing diverse martial arts skills, clearly hailing from various sects.

Qing Jiu and Yu’er sidestepped the crowd and descended the stairs. On the stone railing, there was a mark as if cut by multiple strands of gold thread, under which lay a corpse that had not been long dead.

Qing Jiu stepped forward, plucked a white thread from the mark, and examined it closely, tilting her head slightly.

“It’s Yan Li’s whisk,” Yu’er identified. The mark was made by Yan Li’s whisk, and the corpse was killed with a single fatal blow, an assassination technique used by Tang Linzhi.

The two followed the trail to a coffin, passing numerous bodies along the way, each bearing wounds inflicted by Yan Li and her companions.

They had engaged in combat here.

The coffin had been forced open, revealing the tomb’s occupant adorned in gold and jade. Noticing a body half-leaning against the coffin, Yu’er spotted a token on it. She picked it up to find one side engraved with two intertwining golden serpents.

A chill ran through Yu’er as she handed the token to Qing Jiu.

Qing Jiu, after a prolonged silence punctuated by changing expressions, finally burst into laughter, though whether from joy or anger was unclear. She slowly stated, “Jile City.”

Seeing another band of martial artists, Yu’er was unsure of the strength of Jile City. Looking at the corpses on the ground, she felt a vague concern.

While lost in thought, she suddenly heard rapid footsteps behind her, coming their way. Turning around, Qing Jiu had already positioned herself in front of Yu’er.

Standing before them was a man, his hair graying and his face covered. He was the one who had reminded them that Aihong was on Yang Chun.

Previously, he had relentlessly pursued Yang Chun to seize Aihong, but now, having abandoned the chase, stood before Qing Jiu, staring intently at Yu’er.

For a brief moment, his eyes widened as he muttered, “Ghost!”

Both Qing Jiu and Yu’er were were startled, unsure what the man suddenly meant.

Seeing him staring at her, Yu’er looked down at herself and remembered what Hua Lian had said about the undead and ghostly entities within this ancient tomb. The man before her stared unblinkingly, muttering about ghosts, causing Yu’er’s skin to crawl with an involuntary shiver.

The man took a few steps closer and suddenly burst into maniacal laughter, his eyes filled with madness as he looked down, exclaiming. “Dead for so many years, yet your spirit refuses to leave! Your spirit refuses to leave!”

Qing Jiu sensed there was more to his words, as if he had mistaken Yu’er for someone else. This wasn’t the behavior of a madman; there had to be a hidden story. Thinking quickly, she retorted, “I know our Yu’er has skin as white as snow and beauty unmatched in this world, but if you keep staring at her like that, I’ll start to think you have ill intentions.”

The man’s gaze shifted to Qing Jiu, murmuring, “Yu’er? Yu’er…” He repeated her name several times, his expression one of confusion, like a man possessed. When he lifted his eyes again, it pierced Yu’er with the sharpness of a blade, stripping away defenses to reveal the raw truth beneath. This intense scrutiny made Yu’er uneasy. She grabbed Qing Jiu’s arm, whispering, “Qing Jiu, he’s mad. We still need to find Yan Li and the others. Let’s not get involved with him.”

At that moment, another figure vaulted over the coffin and landed beside the man, exclaiming, “Father, we’ve lost too many men to their tricks. Let’s wait for them to weaken each other before we make our move.”

This newcomer, tall and striking with handsome features and dressed in dark blue silk, appeared to be in his early twenties and bore a familial resemblance to the man, clearly his son. Noticing his father’s distant focus and was not listening, he followed his father’s gaze until it landed on Yu’er, his face turning pale instantaneously.

His body tensed, shaking slightly as he demanded of Yu’er, “You, are you human or ghost?”

Yu’er, frowning in confusion, felt a thought just beginning to surface in her mind.

The young man turned back to his father, shouting, “Father!”

The masked man’s gaze turned icy as he declared, “Whether she’s human or ghost, she must die.”

Yang Chun, relentlessly pursued, found himself surrounded, skillfully dodging swords and concealed weapons from all directions. This was the most thrilling chase he had ever experienced. Realizing it couldn’t continue, he noticed Qing Jiu and Yu’er nearby and quickly made his way towards them.

An assailant intercepted him, reaching out to snatch the Aihong Sword. Yang Chun rolled to the side, hurling Aihong towards Qing Jiu while shouting, “Miss Qing Jiu!” Qing Jiu caught the shadowy figure of the sword flying diagonally towards her, immediately realizing Yang Chun had passed the Aihong to her.

The masked man struck with his palm, whispering, “Haokang.” Qing Jiu hadn’t secured her grip on the Aihong, and the sword was knocked away.

The man identified as Haokang leaped to seize the sword. Yu’er jumped out as well.

As Haokang was about to grasp the sword, Qing Jiu flicked her sleeve, attempting to send the sword spiraling into the abyss.

Haokang stepped forward, his left hand reaching out to grasp the hilt of the sword. Yu’er grabbed a rope and leaped from the left side, her foot striking Haokang’s wrist. A numbness spread through Haokang’s hand, causing him to involuntarily release his grip, and the Aihong flew into the air.

Having just held Aihong, Haokang was still savoring his surprise victory when his guard dropped, allowing Yu’er to dislodge the sword with a kick. In the brief moment of his shock, Yu’er had already leaped, catching Aihong mid-air.

Haokang steadied his breath and focused. Despite the swaying bridge, his stance remained firm. He’d only been momentarily surprised but quickly regained his composure. Poised and unfazed, Yu’er knew he wasn’t a novice like Ye Wushuang. His combat experience and martial arts skills far surpassed hers.

Haokang walked towards Yu’er with steady steps. Yu’er suddenly extended her hand, placing the Aihong horizontally in front of her, and taunted, “Do you want it?”

Narrowing his eyes, Haokang scrutinized Yu’er, his focus locked tightly on Aihong, and retorted, “Seeking mercy? Asking me to spare your life?” He had already decided to kill her, regardless of who she was. Even if she didn’t hand over the Aihong, he knew it wouldn’t be difficult to take it from her. However, the thought of her begging for mercy was oddly satisfying, even if just imagining it sent shivers down his spine.

With a smile, Yu’er flicked her wrist, sending Aihong spinning into the abyss with a forceful swing to her left. “Go fetch it then.”

Haokang, in a panic, reached out to catch it, but Yu’er’s sudden action caught him off guard. He never imagined anyone would so readily relinquish a divine sword. By the time he reacted, Aihong had already plummeted too deep to retrieve.

Holding the rope tightly, Haokang’s veins bulged as anger surged within him, his mind throbbing with each heartbeat.

“How dare you…” He spun around, his neck flushed with rage, drawing his long sword, and through gritted teeth, he seethed, “You will regret this foolish act, regret to the point of kneeling before me, begging me for a quick death!” Haokang thrust his sword, launching nine strikes directly at Yu’er’s vital points.

Yu’er drew her dagger, even though the bridge was far from the firelight, the blade still glowed with a cold white light. She calmly parried each strike.

Noticing the unusual quality of Yu’er’s dagger, Haokang realized it was no ordinary weapon. Despite wearing gold-threaded soft armor, he frowned and proceeded with caution.

His sword thrust forward like lightning, aiming directly at Yu’er’s wrist with a powerful surge of sword energy.

Yu’er reversed her dagger, blocking the sword, and swiftly approached Haokang. Haokang’s sword spun, intercepting in front of him.

Although his initial moves were just probing, he showed no mercy. Yet, Yu’er blocked them all, her attacks sharp and decisive, showing no hesitation or weakness.

The narrow suspension bridge made it difficult to wield the long sword, but Yu’er’s agility with her dagger and her nimble movements gave her the upper hand. Though her martial skills were inferior to Haokang’s, she managed to fight him to a standstill.

Haokang, realizing he was evenly matched with Yu’er, thought in frustration, “I’m more than a decade older than her, yet I can’t take down this little girl.” Frustrated and embarrassed, he attacked recklessly, no longer caring that they were on a suspension bridge where his sword strikes could sever the ropes.

Haokang intentionally exposed a flaw. Yu’er, lacking deep experience, took advantage of it, swiftly slashing her dagger to send the long sword flying. To her surprise, Haokang had anticipated losing his sword and acted swiftly. Before Yu’er could react, Haokang had already grabbed her right arm.

Haokang’s hands were like iron clamps, firmly gripping Yu’er’s right arm. With a forceful squeeze, Yu’er was unable to hold onto her Shang Sheng, and the dagger fell onto the bridge.

Haokang sneered, gripping Yu’er’s neck. Instead of immediately killing her, he slowly tightened his grip, saying, “Beg me.”

Yu’er remained calm in her mind, quietly reaching for another dagger at her waist, Si Ming.

Before entering the tomb, Qing Jiu had given her this dagger for protection. After retrieving the Shang Sheng from Yang Chun and then entangled in fights with the Ghost Sect and Moonless Sect, she hadn’t had the chance to return Si Ming to Qing Jiu.

Yu’er struggled to breathe, the pain in her neck and the tightness in her heart draining her strength. She knew she had to land a decisive blow.

The moment Yu’er’s fingertips brushed against Si Ming, she drew the blade with astonishing speed, swift as the wind.

After grabbing Yu’er, Haokang inevitably relaxed his focus, and in this moment of distraction, he missed the opportunity. Yu’er swiftly slashed at his wrist with the dagger, forcing him to release his grip on her neck.

Yu’er’s blade moved like a shadow, stabbing towards his chest with another swift motion. With no sword in hand, Haokang hesitated to let go of Yu’er’s arm he had just grabbed. They were too close for him to completely dodge, and in his rage, he twisted Yu’er’s arm to block in front of him.

Haokang reassured himself, clad in his gold-threaded soft armor, which was impervious to ordinary swords and knives. With Yu’er’s arm intercepted before him, he doubted she would dare to strike.

However, Yu’er’s dagger thrust forward without hesitation, piercing not only her own palm but also Haokang’s chest.

Haokang’s face registered shock as he looked down at the dagger embedded in his chest. In this moment of vulnerability, Yu’er pushed the dagger deeper into his heart, then yanked it out, drawing a surge of blood.

Haokang covered his chest in disbelief, collapsing to his knees as blood quickly soaked the ground beneath him. His body trembled slightly before he fell completely in front of Yu’er.

In a split second between life and death, his underestimation led him to make a fatal mistake.

Yu’er, holding the Si Ming, continued to gasp for breath. She raised her hands, her right hand drenched in crimson—uncertain whether it was her own blood or that of her enemy.

She stared blankly ahead. It was her first time taking a life, witnessing blood flow like water from a human body.

Just as Qing Jiu had said, killing was not to be taken lightly.

Her vision blurred with the crimson of blood when a mournful cry pierced the air: “Haokang!” Looking up, she saw a white figure approaching swiftly—it was Qing Jiu..

While Yu’er and Haokang had been chasing Aihong, Qing Jiu had been entangled by the masked man, whose martial skills were formidable, making it difficult for her to escape. It wasn’t until Yu’er had killed Haokang, causing the man to lose focus in grief over his son, that Qing Jiu managed to break free.

Qing Jiu picked up the dagger next to the corpse, wrapped her arms around Yu’er, and quickly made their way to the opposite shore.

The man who had followed them reached his son’s body, caressed it tenderly, then looked up with a ferocious glare, vowing, “I will make your life a living hell!” But before he could pursue them, Qing Jiu and Yu’er were already on the other side.

Qing Jiu turned and with a single stroke of her sword, cut down the rope bridge. The man, left with no choice, clutched his son’s body and used the rope to swing back to the platform.

Qing Jiu sheathed her sword and was about to turn around when Yu’er suddenly stepped forward and hugged her, sliding her hand through Qing Jiu’s arms and around her waist.

Yu’er rarely initiated such contact with Qing Jiu, having never dared to even think about it before. Lately, she often wanted to touch her but hesitated to make any significant gestures because Qing Jiu was like the bright moon to her, the most beautiful and pure existence in her heart, untainted by anyone, herself included.

But whether it was battling two ghosts or now, her desire to hold Qing Jiu, just to hold her, might stem from their struggle between life and death, or perhaps because it was her first time killing someone. Fear, delayed in its realization, surged up, and holding her like this brought her closer, knowing Qingjiu was still there, which gave Yu’er immense relief and courage.

Yu’er felt Qing Jiu’s body stiffen. It had been the same in the underground river; she wondered if Qing Jiu didn’t like being held like this, or perhaps didn’t like being held by her.

Yu’er slowly loosened her grip, about to step back, when an arm encircled her waist, holding her gently.

Qing Jiu softly asked, “Are you hurt?”

Yu’er’s head rested weakly on Qingjiu’s shoulder, looking into the abyss, “I threw Aihong down there.”

Qing Jiu chuckled lightly, “I was planning to get rid of it anyway.”

Yu’er then looked towards Yang Chun, who was left on the other side, “How will we get back to him?”

Qing Jiu replied, “Leave him be. He dared to scheme against me; he deserves to suffer a bit. The signs of Yan Li and the others’ fight lead in this direction; they must be in the back room. Let’s go find them.”

“Mm.”