Chapter 166: Hū Shēn Mì Shā! Qǐ Shā Lóu! Xuè Shā Zhī Dú!

The sudden turn of events stunned everyone present—utterly unforeseen.

No one could have predicted that Qian Jia Zhu, the usually composed and shrewd head of the Qian family, would launch such a reckless, violent assault.

Was the old man mad?

That was the first thought racing through every guest’s mind.

But then, they realized something was terribly wrong.

The aura radiating from Qian Jia Zhu was overwhelming—icy, suffocating, so intense it froze the very air. A chilling presence seeped into the bones of all the guests, making their hearts tremble and limbs grow numb, as if paralyzed by sheer dread.

“Danger!”

Even Wei Xinghe, the Wu Dao Zong Shi himself, felt his mind falter for a split second—his reflexes delayed by several heartbeats.

Horror filled him as he watched the figure of Qian Jia Zhu, now radiating terrifying power, lunge toward Wei Zian. His eyes burned with fury, veins bulging in his temples.

“Hū Shēn Mì Shā! Xī Xuè Jiàn! Qǐ Shā Lóu Assassin?!”

The Cloth-Clothed Youth shot to his feet, his face pale with shock.

Though he carried a secret treasure from his sect, shielding him from the effects of Hū Shēn Mì Shā, the distance was too great. He could only watch helplessly, too far to intervene.

Then—something struck him.

Where was Lu Xiao Langjun?

His thoughts barely formed when he realized: Lu Qing, who had been seated at their table just moments ago, was gone.

But he didn’t need to wonder long.

On the makeshift stage, Wei Zian and Ma Gu were already frozen in terror, overwhelmed by Qian Jia Zhu’s oppressive aura. Wei Zian’s body turned icy, his limbs locked in place. Though he saw the blade descending toward him, he couldn’t move a finger.

Ma Gu stood the same—helpless, paralyzed.

The aura wasn’t just powerful—it was unnatural, as if it could freeze thought itself.

Ten paces vanished in an instant.

In the span of a breath, Qian Jia Zhu stood before Wei Zian.

His gaze was hollow, cold—empty of all emotion, like a specter from the depths of the underworld. The short sword plunged forward, aimed straight for Wei Zian’s heart.

Had it struck true, even a celestial immortal descending from heaven would have been powerless to save him.

But just as the blade neared its target—

A teacup, hurled from nowhere, smashed into the sword with a violent gust of wind.

Crack!

The cup exploded on impact, shards scattering like shrapnel. Yet the force of the blow was transferred entirely into the blade.

The sheer power sent shockwaves through Qian Jia Zhu’s arm. His grip faltered. The sword veered off course.

Slash!

A spray of blood erupted.

The blade grazed Wei Zian’s shoulder, slicing through flesh but missing the heart.

“Get away!”

At that moment, a thunderous tiger roar split the air.

Lu Qing materialized on the stage in a flash.

His right fist clenched, his body surging with roaring life force. With a roar of his own, he drove a devastating punch toward Qian Jia Zhu’s side.

What?

For the first time, the cold, dead eyes of Qian Jia Zhu flickered with surprise. He hadn’t expected anyone to react so swiftly under the crushing weight of Hū Shēn Mì Shā.

But he knew the moment was lost.

If he pressed on, even if he succeeded in killing Wei Zian, Wei Xinghe and the others would close in before he could escape.

In an instant, his decision was made.

He spun, twisting his body mid-air, and slammed a palm outward—meeting Lu Qing’s punch head-on.

Boom!

The impact sent shockwaves through the stage. The wooden platform cracked and trembled.

But Lu Qing had the advantage—his momentum was unstoppable. Qian Jia Zhu, forced to defend, was no match.

The stout man was sent flying backward, crashing through a nearby wall with a deafening crash.

“Think you can run?!”

Lu Qing’s eyes narrowed—his instincts flared.

He saw it immediately: the fight hadn’t injured Qian Jia Zhu. Instead, the man had used an expert technique, channeling Lu Qing’s own force to propel himself away.

No time to hesitate.

Lu Qing exploded forward, his feet driving through the broken wall, vanishing into the night.

“Xiao Li, protect Xiao Yan!”

The command rang out before he disappeared.

Only silence remained—stunned guests staring in disbelief.

From the moment Qian Jia Zhu’s aura erupted, to Lu Qing’s rescue, to the punch that shattered the wall—everything had unfolded in less than a few breaths.

Most guests hadn’t even registered what happened before Lu Qing was already gone.

Yet in that fleeting moment, the raw power of their clash had shaken every soul present.

Especially the Qingyun Jian Ge disciples—faces pale, hearts pounding.

“An Er!”

Wei Fu Ren’s cry pierced the air.

Everyone turned.

Wei Zian lay in Ma Gu’s arms, Wei Xinghe and Wei Zihao gathered around, their expressions filled with dread.

Wei Zian clutched his wounded arm, eyes closed. But his face was already marred by creeping black veins—spreading like ink in water.

Poison on the blade?!

A wave of panic swept through the crowd.

What kind of poison was this?

How could such a deadly toxin take effect in mere breaths—enough to knock out even the Young Master of the Wei Family?

“Wei Family Head! Seal Young Master An’s meridians immediately—stop the blood flow to the heart!”

The Cloth-Clothed Youth’s voice cut through the chaos as he leapt onto the stage.

“The assassin was from Qǐ Shā Lóu! He used Xuè Shā Zhī Dú! If the poison reaches the heart, it’ll be too late!”

Qǐ Shā Lóu?

Most guests blinked in confusion—unfamiliar with the name.

But the Qingyun Jian Ge disciples paled. Their bodies trembled.

Wei Xinghe didn’t hesitate. His fingers danced across Wei Zian’s arm, sealing the vital points.

Yet the black veins only spread slightly slower. The situation remained dire.

“Zhi Rui Ge Xia, what should we do?”

Wei Xinghe turned to the Cloth-Clothed Youth, his voice tight with urgency.

“I have an antidote,” the youth said, pulling out a small porcelain bottle. “It will temporarily halt the poison’s spread.”

He poured out a single pill.

“Thank you, Zhi Rui Ge Xia.”

Wei Xinghe took it, gently prying Wei Zian’s mouth open and mixing the pill with water.

The moment it was swallowed, the black veins slowed their advance.

But Wei Zian remained unconscious—his condition unchanged.

“Zhi Rui Ge Xia… why isn’t he waking up?”

Wei Fu Ren’s voice cracked with grief.

“The pill only delays the poison’s progress,” the youth sighed. “Hū Shēn Mì Shā’s Xuè Shā Zhī Dú is infamous. It’s a secret weapon of Qǐ Shā Lóu—crafted from a blend of extreme heat poisons. Even a single drop can burn through the body’s Qi, incinerating the blood. Even a Wu Dao Zong Shi who’s careless enough to be struck would struggle to survive.”

“Then… our An Er…?”

Wei Fu Ren collapsed into tears.

The guests exchanged horrified glances.

They’d never heard of a poison so deadly—so potent that even a Wu Dao Zong Shi could fall to it.

Wei Xinghe staggered, his mind reeling. But he forced himself to calm.

“Zhi Rui Ge Xia… is there no way to save him?”

“The antidote will only hold for half an hour,” the youth said. “If we can find a master physician within that time, there may still be hope. Chen Laodaifu is here, isn’t he? Why not call him?”

With his medical mastery and his Xian Tian Jing cultivation, even such a poison should be treatable.

Wei Xinghe’s face twisted in sorrow.

“Zhi Rui Ge Xia… you don’t know. This morning, because of the banquet, Ancestor found the noise unbearable and invited Chen Laodaifu to go mountain hunting for herbs. They’re still on the road.”

Had they been here, they couldn’t have missed the commotion.

But even with their speed, they were now miles away. No way they could return in time.

“Then… I’m afraid I have no better solution.”

The youth’s voice was heavy with regret.

Was this fate?

Even Wei Xinghe felt despair creeping in.

The city had physicians—but if even Zhi Rui Ge Xia was helpless, what hope did they have?

And now, Chen Laodaifu and Ancestor were gone…

Would An Er truly have to die?

“Lu Xiao Langjun!”

Suddenly, Ma Gu shouted.

“Wei Family Head—hurry and send someone to bring Lu Xiao Langjun back! He knows medicine—he can save Zian!”

“Yes! Quickly fetch Lu Xiao Langjun!”

Wei Fu Ren finally snapped into action. “My own injury was nearly fatal… but Lu Qing healed me in just a few hours. If he’s here, he can save An Er!”

She remembered her own near-death state—just as dire as her son’s now.

And yet, under Lu Qing’s care, she’d walked again within half a day.

If he were here… there had to be hope.

“But Father… Lu Xiao Langjun is chasing the assassin,” Wei Zihao said, face flushed with shame. “We’re too slow to catch up.”

“A Hai, go after him at once!” Wei Xinghe commanded. “Tell him Zian is dying—only he can save him!”

Among all present, only a few had any chance of catching up to Lu Qing.

The County Magistrate and the Cloth-Clothed Youth were out of reach.

Wei Xinghe himself couldn’t leave.

The only hope—Wei Da Zong Guan, whose inner core was fully cultivated.

“Yes, Master!”

Wei Da Zong Guan bowed and rushed toward the broken wall.

But before he could take two steps—

A sudden gust of wind.

Thud!

A body crashed through the air from outside, landing hard on the ground.

Then, a calm voice echoed from above.

“Told you… you won’t escape.”

The guests looked up.

On the shattered wall stood Lu Qing, motionless, calm as stone.

And beneath him, the broken form of Qian Jia Zhu lay sprawled—limbs twisted, bloodied, unmistakably the man who had just tried to kill the Young Master.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end