Chapter 136: Terrifying Su Chen, Qiao Qiliang's Horror

Chapter 136: Terrifying Su Chen, Qiao Qiliang’s Horror

“Fake pill formula?”

Qiao Qiliang gasped, cautiously poking his head out before scanning the area. Finding it empty, he turned back to Su Chen in disbelief.

If Su Chen had claimed the formula was fake before Hong Hai revealed it, he’d have believed him wholeheartedly. But now, after Hong Hai had unveiled the formula and sparked such fierce fighting among rival factions, how could it possibly be false?

Another inconsistency gnawed at him—why hadn’t Hong Hai produced the formula earlier? If he had, the ensuing chaos might have wiped out their enemies without such heavy losses to the Hong Clan’s younger generation.

So while Su Chen’s words unsettled him, he only gave them 80% credibility. Fixing Su Chen with a sharp gaze, he demanded, “How can you be sure it’s fake?”

Su Chen gestured subtly toward the battlefield. “Watch Hong Hai’s behavior. After losing the formula, he never pursued it. Instead, he focused on slaughtering enemies. Doesn’t that strike you as strange?”

Following Su Chen’s line of sight, Qiao Qiliang indeed saw Hong Hai methodically butchering the remaining Black-Cloaked Men.

“You’re saying the real formula is still on him?” Qiao Qiliang frowned.

Su Chen shook his head. “Not certain. Let’s keep observing.”

Seeing Su Chen’s reluctance to leave, Qiao Qiliang sighed and nodded.

Meanwhile, Hong Shan and Hong Hai’s brutal assault brought the fight to an end. The ground was littered with two or three hundred corpses, the air thick with blood. From the Hong Clan’s original force, barely thirty remained.

Hong Shan ordered a half-hour rest before having the survivors gather their comrades’ bodies. Hong Hai had already sent messenger pigeons to the clan—reinforcements would arrive shortly to handle the dead.

As for the enemy corpses, the Hong Clan stripped them bare. Watching this, Qiao Qiliang’s jaw tightened.

“Dead men deserve respect. Must you plunder so savagely?” he muttered bitterly.

“Preach! Plundering’s one thing, but groping bodies? What decency!”

“Don’t neglect the lower regions either. People sometimes hide treasures in… delicate places.”

“Pathetic. Let me show you how it’s done!”

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

Su Chen’s glare finally silenced him. A vein throbbed on his temple. Since when had Qiao Qiliang developed such a grotesque hobby?

Yanking Qiao Qiliang’s head back, he hissed, “Feeling bold enough to shout louder?”

“Just teaching them proper plundering technique!” Qiao Qiliang chuckled nervously. He suddenly remembered he was in the presence of a true master of corpse-looting—his own skills paled in comparison.

Changing the subject, he asked, “So… what now?”

“Wait,” Su Chen replied simply.

“Wait? For what?”

No answer came. Su Chen himself wasn’t sure.

From the earlier chaos, he’d discerned three distinct factions opposing the Hong Clan: those targeting Hong Clan members directly, those eyeing the treasure chests (fourteen in total), and those focused solely on the Vital Energy Pill—led by the Luo Clan.

The Pure Land Sect seemed fixated on vengeance against the Hong Clan, while the Luo Clan had risked everything for the pill. This aligned with intelligence Qiao Qiliang had shared.

Now, the Luo Clan had seized the formula and retreated, forcing the Pure Land Sect to withdraw as well. Yet compared to the Luo Clan’s strike, the Pure Land Sect’s assault had done little real damage. Most casualties were allied hangers-on, not true Hong Clan elites.

Su Chen suspected the Pure Land Sect’s true goal had been Hong Shan himself. A Blood Shifting Realm cultivator, his death would’ve stung deeply. But Hong Hai’s interference had foiled their plans.

That’s why Su Chen refused to leave. He wagered the Pure Land Sect might return, targeting either Hong Shan or Hong Hai. Eliminating either would be a victory.

He kept this theory to himself—Qiao Qiliang lacked the nerve for such gambles.

Another possibility lurked: the Luo Clan might discover the formula’s falsity and return for the real one. Either way, Su Chen needed chaos. Without a second clash, his own risky plan would have to proceed.

The Hong Clan’s remnants regrouped and marched onward. Entering a canyon, they faced scattered ambushes, but without the Pure Land Sect or Luo Clan interference, these attackers were slaughtered effortlessly. Hong Shan alone wiped them out, adding more loot to their already-heavy pouches.

Su Chen and Qiao Qiliang trailed two hundred meters behind, careful not to close the distance. Earlier, a group had been spotted tailing too closely—Hong Hai annihilated them all, their bodies left as fertilizer.

After miles of pursuit, only Su Chen and Qiao Qiliang remained. Their distance and strength kept them undetected by the Hong Clan’s Blood Shifting experts.

As dusk painted the sky crimson, the Hong Clan exited the Funiu Mountains. By sunset, they’d established a camp in the wilderness.

Su Chen and Qiao Qiliang watched from afar as their targets roasted meat, washed, and settled into tents.

“Anyone coming this late?” Qiao Qiliang yawned, exhausted from the day’s tension.

Without answering, Su Chen tossed him some dried rations. Qiao Qiliang nibbled unenthusiastically, while Su Chen ate slowly, eyes scanning the darkness.

Night deepened. The wilderness roared with predatory cries, but the Hong Clan’s presence deterred all beasts. The clan posted six guards—four visible, two hidden—before sleeping.

“Don’t act yet. Their senses are sharp,” one intruder whispered.

Ding Yi smirked, crouching in the shadows. “I’ll handle it. They won’t expect us to return.”

His words hung heavy. The Hong Clan had no idea what was coming.

Ding Yi was the perfect choice to handle the task.

Scanning the area and taking in his surroundings, Ding Yi’s gaze quickly settled on the six guards lurking in the shadows. He stilled his breath, focused his mind, then launched forward—a ghostly figure drifting through the darkness, soundless as a shadow.

Within moments, he had dispatched all six guards without alerting Hong Shan or Hong Hai inside the camp tent. He reached the rear of the tent, pulled out a short five-centimeter incense stick from his robe, lit it, and slipped the smoldering tip beneath the tent flaps.

“Vice Leader,” a whisper came.

Moments later, He Quan and the others, who had been lurking in wait, saw Ding Yi succeed and immediately rose to join him.

“This is the ‘One-Breath Collapse’ poison,” Ding Yi murmured. “Colorless, odorless. One breath is all it takes to knock someone out—no matter how powerful a Blood Shifting Martial Cultivator they are.”

He gestured. He Quan nodded and led his group toward Hong Hai’s tent, while Ding Yi took the remaining men toward Hong Shan’s. The Hong clan had three tents total, but eliminating Hong Shan and Hong Hai would render the rest inconsequential.

Beforehand, everyone had swallowed antidotes, so they feared no poisoning.

As the teams split, He Quan departed. Ding Yi wasted no time, slipping silently into the tent.

The space was small—Hong Shan’s towering two-meter frame was immediately visible, his massive form unmistakable.

“Go!” Ding Yi commanded.

With a nod, the others moved swiftly, eliminating the remaining men in quick, sharp strikes. Soon, only Hong Shan remained at the front.

Ding Yi stepped forward, closing the distance until he stood before Hong Shan. Seeing the man’s face slack with sleep, Ding Yi’s lips curled into a smirk. In the end, this giant would still die by his hand.

Crash!

A sudden impact shattered the silence. A shadow flashed past Ding Yi’s eyes.

“No good!” Ding Yi’s heart lurched. He knew—He Quan had run into trouble. Hong Hai must’ve resisted the poison and turned on them.

“I have to help!”

He raised his hand to strike Hong Shan, but at that moment, two tiger-like eyes snapped open—glaring at him with killing intent.

“Die!”

Hong Shan’s voice was a growl. A massive palm materialized from nowhere, filling Ding Yi’s vision. Steel-hard and roaring with force, it smashed forward, tearing the air with explosive pressure, shattering the camp’s atmosphere.

Ding Yi’s breath caught. His pupils constricted. A cold surge shot up his spine as the strike connected.

Boom!

Instinctively raising both arms to block, Ding Yi heard a metallic clang. His body lifted off the ground, hurtling backward several meters before crashing into the tent wall. He shuddered, absorbing the impact, then planted his feet and steadied himself.

“Vice Leader!”

The others cried out in alarm, but Ding Yi shook his head. “I’m fine. Help He Quan first.”

Clashes echoed from the adjacent tent. Ding Yi had suffered only minor injuries.

“Understood!”

Without hesitation, the men bolted out to aid He Quan.

“Pure Land Sect… persistent vermin!” Hong Shan snarled. Three breaths later, only Ding Yi and he remained. Hong Shan had already identified Ding Yi’s identity, his teeth grinding audibly, fury spilling from his eyes.

When he detected the poison, he’d held his breath—too late. Forced to feign sleep, he’d purged the toxin. Though he’d had chances to warn others, he’d refrained. Doing so would’ve alerted the enemy.

He wanted to wait until fully recovered, then crush these scheming insects one by one.

But he’d waited too long. By the time he’d regained strength, Ding Yi had already slaughtered the others.

Hearing the commotion next door, he’d abandoned the act entirely, attacking head-on.

Unfortunately, Ding Yi was fast. That first strike had failed to kill him.

“This ends tonight—I will kill you!” Hong Shan sneered, launching forward mid-sentence.

In an instant, they clashed—blows landing with bone-deep force. Pure strength and skill clashed, a furious storm of motion.

Boom!

The tent couldn’t withstand their vital force. The wooden beams, never sturdy to begin with, cracked apart, and the entire structure collapsed in a thunderous crash.

Ding Yi and Hong Shan both leapt back, then dashed outside.

Beyond, another battle raged. He Quan’s group faced Hong Hai.

Seeing Hong Shan emerge and the tent collapse, Hong Hai’s pupils tightened—but he said nothing.

“So it’s really Hong Hai!” Ding Yi gazed at him, a mix of surprise and regret on his face. If Hong Hai had been poisoned, tonight would’ve ended differently.

“Kill them!” Hong Hai roared, hurling himself at He Quan. Fury surged with every strike, each blow radiating overwhelming power. Though outnumbered, he fought like an unstoppable force.

Meanwhile, Hong Shan’s foot slammed the earth. Like a cannonball, he rocketed toward Ding Yi, their clash reigniting. This was no longer just strength—it was speed, reflex, and will.

Far off, two eyes watched the chaos. Qiao Qiliang, now fully awake, turned to Su Chen and muttered, “Didn’t expect you’d actually catch your chance.”

Su Chen only smiled. The opportunity wasn’t certain yet.

“Retreat!”

As Ding Yi’s command rang out, the two exchanged bitter smiles. This had ended too quickly.

At Ding Yi’s words, He Quan’s group withdrew without hesitation. They were no match for Hong Hai—already wounded after only a few exchanges.

Whether Hong Shan would’ve died or not, they’d have been killed by Hong Hai if they’d stayed.

Ding Yi’s face tightened. Facing Hong Shan alone was manageable—but with Hong Hai added to the mix, discretion was the only choice.

Still, before leaving, he’d settle one score.

“Stand still!”

Hearing Hong Shan’s roar, Ding Yi smirked coldly. As the telltale whistling came from behind, he halted abruptly and lashed out with a palm strike.

Hong Shan’s fist followed, a hurricane of force meeting Ding Yi’s blow.

Crack!

A low, thunderous boom echoed. Both men staggered backward.

Drip.

Ding Yi’s body swayed. Blood reddened his lips as he clutched his chest, his face darkening. “You win this round.”

With that, he vanished into the trees.

“Where do you think you’re going?!”

Seeing Ding Yi wounded, Hong Shan gave chase without hesitation, his form blurring into a streak.

“Don’t pursue!”

Hong Hai shouted after him, but Hong Shan had already disappeared.

Hong Hai’s face darkened. He wanted to shout that forcing his vital force had caused the poison to invade his organs—he needed to heal urgently.

Before he could finish, Hong Shan had charged off like a reckless fool.

With no other enemies nearby, Hong Hai had no choice but to retreat into his tent, cross his legs, and circulate his vital force to mend his wounds.

He couldn’t identify the poison—its initial effects had been weak, just dizziness. But after suppressing it and activating his vital force, the toxin had grown stronger.

Had his organs not been tempered through years of cultivation, they might’ve already collapsed.

Still, time was needed to cleanse it.

“Who’s there?!”

As he concentrated on healing, footsteps outside snapped his eyes open. He scanned the dimly lit tent, firelight flickering.

A figure entered, approaching his seated form with a smile. “Just as I thought!”

Meanwhile, outside the tent, far away, Qiao Qiliang stood frozen. A chill crept up his spine, making his skin prickle.

Su Chen’s words left him with a tingling scalp, stunned by the sheer audacity of what he’d just witnessed.

Only now did he truly grasp Su Chen’s intent.

It wasn’t just about the Vital Energy Pill Formula. It was about the Hong clan’s lives—including Hong Shan and Hong Hai.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end