Chapter 11: Baring Sharp Horns

Chapter 11: Baring Sharp Horns

Inside the Tiger's Lair, Jiang Biehe clutched his head in agony, his face wrapped in black cloth. Embedded in his skull was Li Chaofeng’s Five Insect Blade Art.

The dagger had plunged in up to its hilt, narrowly missing his brain. Yet Jiang Biehe knew even this glancing wound was fatal—no immortal could save him now.

The only reason he still breathed was that the blade hadn’t been withdrawn.

How had he ended up like this? Even now, he couldn’t comprehend it.

The moment he’d entered the cave, he’d spotted a tiger corpse facing him as though alive, startling him. But one glance told him the beast was dead—its forehead pierced by the same azure-black dagger Jiang Biehe had seen before.

That weapon, the one he feared most, now stuck brazenly from the tiger’s head.

Li Chaofeng had left it there. Worse, he’d spread his coat as a pillow and fallen asleep on dry ground not far from the carcass.

Perhaps the youth disliked heat—his thin clothes clung to his muscular frame, every contour visible.

Jiang Biehe could only stare, speechless. He’d never imagined he’d stoop to night-stalking such a fool.

Convinced Li Chaofeng carried no hidden weapons, Jiang Biehe’s fear dissolved. He quickened his pace, no longer bothering to hide his approach.

What could an ordinary man without True Qi do to a First-Tier Martial Artist like him? True Qi was far more potent than Li Chaofeng’s Ironclad Skin technique.

As Jiang Biehe closed in, Li Chaofeng jolted awake. He blinked up at the black-clothed figure charging him, his youthful face twisting in panic.

In his fluster, the boy did something absurd—reaching barehanded to seize Jiang Biehe’s wrists.

Jiang Biehe nearly laughed. True Qi wasn’t just for defense; it could rupture organs. This child, lacking even a shred of Qi, thought he could restrain a martial artist by grabbing wrists?

Did he think Jianghu battles were like street brawls—grab wrists, deliver a headbutt, and call it victory?

Jiang Biehe didn’t dodge. He’d already won. Compared to killing Li Chaofeng outright, he’d savor hearing the boy’s death cries.

When Li Chaofeng lunged, gripping both wrists, Jiang Biehe’s amusement peaked. The boy’s headbutt came as expected.

True Qi surged to shield Jiang Biehe’s forehead. Let’s see—whose skull is harder, boy?

Then—agony.

A dagger buried itself in his skull, mirroring the tiger’s fate.

The tiger’s blade had pierced its forehead’s center. Jiang Biehe’s had veered slightly—his only saving grace.

He should’ve died instantly.

Staggering backward, Jiang Biehe collapsed onto the tiger corpse. His vision blurred, two thoughts echoing:

He’s going to kill me!

That blade… so sharp!

The dagger had sliced through his skull like tofu, silent and smooth.

Tears welled in his eyes as he gripped the hilt, afraid to move. One twitch might dislodge the blade—and end him.

Even struggling, his time was short. But he refused to die.

Li Chaofeng exhaled, finally relaxing.

Got him. Almost.

Rubbing his aching forehead, he mused about True Qi’s power. No wonder martial artists slaughtered ordinary men so easily—it was armor, impenetrable without equal force.

He crouched beside Jiang Biehe, brushing tears from the man’s trembling eyelids. Jiang Biehe’s gaze swam with terror and disbelief.

“You didn’t think I’d let you live, did you?” Li Chaofeng smirked.

Death terrified Jiang Biehe, especially a man who’d always viewed others’ deaths as trivial, even amusing.

Jiang Biehe wanted to plead, but he knew begging meant nothing. His fate was sealed. Even if Li Chaofeng dragged him to the modern world, this injury—a blade through the skull—would demand a perilous operation.

The Five Insect Blade Art was no ordinary dagger. It had pierced clean through. If Jiang Biehe turned, Li Chaofeng could see the blade’s tip protruding from his skull.

As for retrieving the weapon—Li Chaofeng was its master. Wherever it flew, it returned to him.

Wiping Jiang Biehe’s tears, Li Chaofeng watched the man’s panic subside. The dagger, slick with sweat, had lodged tighter.

“You’ve got options,” Li Chaofeng mused. “Die now… or later. Maybe even live with that blade forever. Depends on my mood.”

Jiang Biehe swallowed his dread, pressing his palm to his forehead. He tugged off his face cloth, his voice trembling with forced sincerity.

“When did you notice me following you?”

“You guessed it?” Li Chaofeng shrugged, scanning Jiang Biehe’s body. “You’re not hiding much. Just some Silver Notes, I’d wager.”

Jiang Biehe’s heart sank. “If you want anything, name it! I’ll get it for you—anything!”

Li Chaofeng snorted. “A dead man? What’s he good for?”

“Not necessarily dead!” Jiang Biehe insisted. “If the blade stays fixed, I can live a while. Just… can’t fight anymore.”

Li Chaofeng raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Let’s say you live. You’d need my blade to escape, right? So what’s my incentive to lose it?”

Jiang Biehe hesitated. “My money—”

“Dead men’s gold is mine already.”

“My land deeds—”

“Shouldn’t a man who’d ‘get anything’ already own those deeds?” Li Chaofeng’s voice turned icy. “Right, Jiang Daxia?”

Jiang Biehe’s face paled. “Then… what do you want?”

Li Chaofeng grinned, patting Jiang Biehe’s bloodied head.

“Your martial arts secrets, of course.”

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end