Chapter 124: Grinding Stone, Execution

In the dense forest, Lu Qing pressed relentlessly after the white-robed youth.

"Sir, a true Nei Fu Jing master such as yourself—having come this far, why flee without a fight? Don’t you fear the scorn of the world?" Lu Qing called out, his voice clear and bold.

The white-robed youth, hearing the pursuit, felt a surge of rage and shock.

Rage at the audacity of a mere Jin Gu Jing youth daring to mock him—how dared this boy treat him with such disrespect?

Shock at Lu Qing’s boldness in chasing him so openly. That could only mean one thing: he had some hidden strength, some secret advantage. Most likely, the one who had slain Old Three and Lao Qi was lurking nearby.

With that thought, though fury burned in his chest, the youth’s pace only quickened.

Cautious by nature, he had already resolved to return, report the situation to his Master, and summon the Senior Brother.

Though he resented the Senior Brother—his own pride could not bear the thought of being outshone—he had to admit: the Senior Brother was far stronger than he.

Nei Fu Jing Wan Man, nearing the peak of Hou Tian realm, the Senior Brother stood nearly unmatched, second only to the Xian Tian.

As long as the Senior Brother arrived, he would no longer fear the unseen enemy.

Then, he could crush this Jin Gu Jing boy like a bug beneath his heel.

Seeing the youth refuse to be provoked and instead flee faster, Lu Qing sighed inwardly.

He had hoped to bait him into a fight, to test his own rapidly rising cultivation against a Nei Fu Jing warrior.

But the man was too cautious—no chance given.

As the white-robed youth vanished beyond the edge of his sight, Lu Qing had no choice but to shout:

"Xiao Li! Intercept him!"

The moment the words left his lips, the youth felt an overwhelming, icy dread surge from his back—so sharp it sent chills down his spine.

"How?! Impossible!"

He had been twenty zhang away from Lu Qing—how could something have already reached him from behind?

In sheer panic, he whipped his Jade Fan, clenched in both hands, back toward the threat with desperate force.

Shh!

The fan sliced through the air with a piercing sound, powerful and swift.

But the next instant, he felt a sudden lightness in his hand.

His fan—crafted from hardened cold jade, as tough as steel—had been cleanly severed in half.

A searing pain shot through his palm. Had he not pulled back in time, his wrist would have been cut clean through.

What?

The youth’s mind reeled.

He instantly halted, darting behind a tree wide enough to encircle with his arms, then peered back—his eyes widening in horror.

For there was nothing behind him.

Empty air.

Even Lu Qing, still more than ten zhang away, was now charging forward.

Then… what had attacked him?

Staring at the shattered pieces of his fan scattered on the ground, and the deep, bone-deep gashes across his palm, the youth’s heart sank.

The unknown was the most terrifying.

He couldn’t fathom what kind of attack could cripple him so utterly in a single instant.

But one thing was certain: it was tied to Lu Qing.

Because the moment he’d heard that shout, that attack had come.

"Draw your blade!"

The youth remained alert, scanning the shadows around him—but Lu Qing paid no mind to his shock.

With Xiao Li having blocked the escape, Lu Qing pressed on without slowing. His War Blade flashed from its sheath, and with the momentum of his charge, he brought down a devastating slash—like a storm tearing through the forest, aiming to cleave the youth and the tree together in two.

That technique!

The youth’s eyelids twitched.

He felt the danger in that single strike.

If he wasn’t careful, even he might suffer grievous wounds.

A mere Jin Gu Jing, wielding such a technique? Who was this boy?

Though stunned, the youth reacted swiftly.

He stilled his trembling hand, focusing to stop the bleeding.

With his left hand, he drew a Silver Light from his waist—a shimmering blade that coiled like a venomous snake, lashing out toward Lu Qing’s throat.

Now was no time to ponder the mysterious attacker.

Only by capturing Lu Qing could he force the unknown threat to hesitate—giving him a chance to survive.

"Flexible Sword?"

Lu Qing recognized the weapon’s true form, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

He had thought the Jade Fan was the man’s weapon—but now he saw: this youth’s true mastery lay in swordplay, and specifically, the rare and treacherous Flexible Sword technique.

It suited the man’s cunning and deceitful nature.

The sword flickered like a serpent, darting forward with blinding speed. It sliced through Lu Qing’s blade attack, arriving before it could fully land—aiming to pierce his throat.

That one move alone revealed the depth of his skill.

Using the tree trunk for cover, striking out like a snake from its hole—sudden, unpredictable, deadly.

Even a Jin Gu Jing Wan Man would struggle to survive such a strike.

But Lu Qing was far from ordinary.

Feeling the sword’s speed surpass even his War Blade, he instantly shifted his stance.

The fierce, overwhelming force of his slash transformed in an instant—becoming fluid, gentle, like a mountain stream.

He met the sword with a single, precise clash, deflecting it aside.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, he spun his body, the blade tracing a flawless arc around the tree trunk—aiming to sever the youth’s neck.

"Ah? This boy’s swordplay!"

The sudden shift stunned the youth.

As the blade neared his throat, he ducked instinctively—barely avoiding the cut.

Then, he rolled low, instantly creating distance, and stared at Lu Qing in disbelief.

How many times had he been shocked since meeting this boy?

Yet this blade mastery—shifting from extreme force to delicate grace so seamlessly—was beyond anything he’d ever seen.

Even he, a Nei Fu Jing, had never witnessed such mastery.

"Balanced Strength and Gentleness, Exquisite Precision—Swordsmanship Master! You killed Lao Qi?!"

In that instant, the youth remembered the scene in the nameless valley—the body of Lao Qi, head severed, armor split—but no deep wounds, as if the killer hadn’t had the strength to cleave him in one stroke.

Back then, he’d been puzzled: if the attacker lacked power, how had he killed so easily?

Now, seeing Lu Qing’s technique, the truth struck him.

If this boy had done it… Lao Qi hadn’t stood a chance.

But Lu Qing ignored the shout.

He knew the “Lao Qi” referred to was Tong Cang Lang.

But he wouldn’t answer.

Seizing the moment of distraction, he narrowed his eyes, took a step forward—and slashed again.

"Hmph! What good is sword mastery if you’re still just a Jin Gu Jing? I fear nothing!"

The youth, furious at being dismissed, clenched his teeth.

He didn’t know how such a young boy had achieved such mastery.

But technique required strength to back it.

A Nei Fu Jing—even a beginner—could overwhelm any Jin Gu Jing with a Zong Shi-level skill.

But a Jin Gu Jing? The gap in cultivation was vast.

Yet, even so, Lu Qing’s blade came on with terrifying speed.

The youth thrust his Flexible Sword forward, aiming to pierce Lu Qing’s wrist.

Lu Qing twisted his hand aside, avoiding the strike—his blade unyielding, still slicing forward.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The clash of steel echoed through the forest.

Silver light danced, weaving through the air.

In just a heartbeat, they had exchanged dozens of blows.

One—a Nei Fu Jing, powerful and swift, his sword a storm of precision.

The other—a Jin Gu Jing, his blade flawless, his movements fluid, his technique refined.

For a moment, neither could gain the upper hand.

Clang!

Another resounding clash.

The youth’s final strike was deflected with ease.

Using the recoil, he leapt back, creating distance—temporarily escaping Lu Qing’s reach.

Lu Qing did not pursue. He stood still, calm and composed.

The youth, watching him, seethed inwardly.

If not for his injured right hand, if his left weren’t so unskilled with the sword… Lu Qing wouldn’t have dodged so easily.

Now, a Nei Fu Jing—himself—was locked in a stalemate with a Jin Gu Jing.

It was a disgrace.

Lu Qing, observing the youth’s technique, also noted the flaw: the swordplay lacked harmony, uneven in rhythm.

Clearly, the man wasn’t used to wielding with his left.

Had he been more skilled, Lu Qing might have struggled.

But he also knew his own advantage: the Flexible Sword, while fast and elusive, relied on finesse, not brute force.

Even a Nei Fu Jing couldn’t overpower his War Blade with sheer strength.

They could only strike at weak points, aiming for one decisive kill.

But the youth’s sword mastery simply wasn’t refined enough.

His technique lacked precision. His strength couldn’t dominate.

That was why he was struggling so badly.

The youth, who relied on stealth and surprise, had been perfectly countered by Lu Qing’s balanced, adaptive style.

Still, Lu Qing knew the limits.

He could only hold his own.

To kill this Nei Fu Jing? Impossible.

Even wounded, a Nei Fu Jing remained a formidable force.

If the youth knew Lu Qing’s thoughts, he’d be furious.

A mere Jin Gu Jing, lucky enough to match him—yet still dreaming of victory?

Arrogant fool.

But the youth was trapped in indecision.

He couldn’t defeat Lu Qing through open combat.

Should he use his Secret Technique?

It would double his strength.

But it was his final trump card—meant to protect against the unseen enemy that had wounded him before.

If he used it now, he’d have nothing left if that enemy appeared.

And after using it, he’d collapse into weakness, his strength plummeting.

If he couldn’t kill Lu Qing quickly, he’d be dead.

"Xiao Li—attack!"

Just as he hesitated, Lu Qing suddenly gave the order.

Having tested his own strength, he had no intention of prolonging the fight.

This Grinding Stone had no value.

With the command given, Lu Qing charged forward, War Blade drawn—launching a full-frontal assault, no honor, no rules.

He would fight alongside Xiao Li.

The youth’s heart froze at the name.

That same icy dread surged through him—just as before.

He didn’t hesitate.

He activated his blood and Qi, igniting every major acupoint in his body.

As the Secret Technique flared to life, raw power surged from deep within him—

But then, a chill like ice pierced his soul.

Before him, the air ripped open.

A small, pale claw emerged—reaching for his chest.

What in the world?!

The youth screamed inwardly.

He slashed wildly with his Flexible Sword, aiming to impale the claw—

Clang!

At the last instant, a blade tip appeared in front of him—blocking his sword.

Then, from the void, a Black Strange Beast leapt forth—graceful, swift, dodging the blade—and lunged at his chest.

Thud!

A heavy blow.

The youth felt his body seize.

Something had torn free from within.

His strength vanished like sand through fingers.

He looked down.

His chest was torn open—pierced through from front to back.

His heart—once beating beneath his ribs—was gone.

The specially reinforced inner armor beneath his clothes had done nothing.

He stared upward, stunned, about to speak—

But then, a blade appeared before his eyes.

One clean cut.

His head flew off.

In the final moments of fading consciousness, he remembered the scene in the nameless valley.

And finally understood.

This was how Old Three had died.

Thud.

The head hit the ground.

Lu Qing’s expression remained unchanged.

Xiao Li alone could have killed the youth.

But Lu Qing had chosen to end it swiftly—no loose ends.

He looked down at the corpse.

A quiet sigh escaped him.

It seemed he and Wang Cangyi were truly ill-matched.

In just a few days, three of his disciples had died at his and Xiao Li’s hands.

If Wang Cangyi ever discovered his identity… he’d hunt Lu Qing to the ends of the earth.

With that thought, Lu Qing seized the corpse and severed head, vanishing into the Deep Mountains.

He found a remote, forgotten valley, buried the body deep beneath layers of stone and earth.

Only then did he relax.

Da Shan stretched endlessly—finding a single living soul was near impossible.

How could Wang Cangyi ever hope to find this body?

It wouldn’t hide him completely.

But as long as the corpse remained undiscovered, Wang Cangyi wouldn’t be certain the boy was dead.

And as long as he delayed—until his Master grew stronger—everything would change.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end