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Chapter 201: One Arrow Shatters the Coffin, Drives Her Mad
"Treasure Bow," Lu Qing murmured, gently stroking the longbow in his hand atop the high ridge, "you've been in my possession for nearly two years now. Today, at last, I can finally unleash your true might."
The bow hadn't been forged by him. It had been discovered two years ago during a mountain herb-gathering trip, when Xiao Li sensed something unusual. The location—near the Nameless Valley where Lu Qing had sparred with Wei Shanhai the previous day—had long since been forgotten by all but him.
Later, he learned the truth: this Treasure Bow had once belonged to Tong Cang Lang, a disciple of Wang Cangyi, the man who had once hunted Ma Gu. In his haste to catch Ma Gu, Tong Cang Lang had hidden the bow in a tree—too heavy to carry while pursuing his prey. He’d planned to retrieve it after the kill. But fate had other plans. Tong Cang Lang was slain by Lu Qing. And with him, the bow’s whereabouts vanished into obscurity.
Had it not been for Xiao Li’s uncanny instinct, the bow would have rotted away in the rain and moss, forgotten by time.
After claiming the weapon, Lu Qing used his Abilities to examine it—and was stunned. The bow was no ordinary artifact. Its core was forged from the rare, legendary hide of the White-Horned Savage Ox. Under the probe of his Abilities, the weapon glowed with a deep crimson light, so dense it shimmered with a faint, almost imperceptible thread of gold—hinting at the first signs of a divine-grade weapon.
Knowing such a treasure must not be wasted, Lu Qing had requested the Wei Family to provide him with several ancient archery manuals. With the aid of his Abilities, he mastered them swiftly, advancing his archery skill to the peak of Zong Shi realm. Then, after unlocking the 【Yi】 realm, he achieved a profound understanding of the arrow’s soul—crafting his own unique technique, Arrow Yi.
"Old Woman," Lu Qing muttered coldly, staring toward the distant Zheng Residence, "you think you can let Zheng Yu, that scum, be honored by ten thousand worshippers? Not a chance."
He smirked. "You think you’re the only one who knows how to strike at the heart?"
His eyes narrowed, sharp as blades, fixed on the mansion hundreds of meters away. He drew in a slow breath. The Shen Hun Fu Lu within his Brow Qi Cavity stirred faintly, calming his mind, silencing every emotion, leaving only perfect clarity.
From the Qiankun Yiqi Dai at his side, he withdrew a single arrow—hand-forged by himself, crafted from Thousand-Fold Refined Iron. His bow arched like a full moon, tension coiling through the limbs, ready to release.
Blood surged through his body, a furnace of power, roaring with raw force. Yet not a whisper of it escaped. The Shen Hun Fu Lu concealed it all, shielding his presence from every eye.
Everything was set. Yet he did not release.
Instead, he closed his eyes, emptied his mind, and tuned into the subtle currents of air around him.
After a few heartbeats, his eyes snapped open—sharp, blazing with sudden clarity. His gaze locked onto the Zheng Residence.
With a burst of energy, his fingers loosened.
A thunderous crack split the air. The space before him exploded, and the arrow vanished—leaving only a streak of white mist trailing behind it, a visible thread of force connecting him to the distant mansion.
Boom!
Almost instantly, a deafening explosion erupted from the Ling Tang.
Shouts, screams, chaos erupted in every direction.
Only then did the white mist appear—long, thin, and fading slowly between Lu Qing and the Zheng compound.
"What was that?!"
The Zheng Jia Old Woman, who had been conversing with the head steward Cheng Zhu Fu in the garden, froze at the sound. Her heart lurched. Without a word, she abandoned her companion, her body surging forward in an instant—her breath carried her across the distance in the blink of an eye.
But when she reached the Ling Tang, she nearly collapsed.
The once-peaceful hall was now in ruins—crumbled, shattered, a scene of utter devastation.
Worst of all—Yu Er’s luxurious coffin, the one that had housed the boy’s body, was reduced to splinters. The corpse within had been obliterated, leaving nothing but dust and ash.
The sight struck her like a physical blow. Her vision darkened. Her body swayed, barely holding her upright.
Wang Zong Guan arrived moments later, his face pale. He stared in disbelief. "How... how could this happen? We only just left..."
He couldn’t fathom how the Ling Tang had been destroyed in such a short time.
"Who did this?!" the Old Woman roared, her voice cracking with fury.
But she was a Xian Tian Jing cultivator—her will was iron. She forced her body to steady, her mind to focus. Cold, endless hatred radiated from her, her gaze like ice, sharp enough to kill.
"Ancestor, we don’t know!" a guard cried, clutching his injured arm. "The coffin... it just exploded! I couldn’t move in time—this piece of wood hit me—"
He didn’t care about his wound. As a guard, he’d failed. He’d been entrusted with protecting Yu Er’s coffin—and now it was gone. He knew what came next.
He remembered the fate of the guards who had failed before. The thought sent a chill down his spine.
And the Old Woman, seeing his helpless confusion, her eyes turned even colder.
"Mother," came a voice from behind the ruins.
Zheng Jia Zhu stepped out, his face grim. In his hand was a long arrow—still embedded in the wall behind the Ling Tang, its tip buried deep into the stone.
"Someone fired from outside the city," he said, voice tight with shock. "This arrow pierced the coffin from afar—destroyed both coffin and body—then lodged here."
He stared at the arrow, unable to comprehend how such a shot could be possible. The coffin had been reinforced with layered steel and ancient magic. And yet, this single arrow had torn through it like paper.
"If this had been aimed at someone inside the mansion," he whispered, "no one—except the Ancestor—could have survived."
The Old Woman’s eyes flickered. Her gaze locked onto the arrow.
"An arrow," she murmured. "So he’s still in the city."
Her fury flared. Her body vanished in a flash—reappearing on the highest rooftop of the Zheng estate in an instant. She scanned the sky.
And there—faint, fading—was a trail of white mist, drifting upward, vanishing into the air.
She followed its path.
And then she saw him.
The figure standing atop the high ridge. The longbow in his hand.
"You!"
Her blood boiled.
She knew. It was him. The one who had destroyed Yu Er’s coffin. The one who had erased his body from existence.
Lu Qing, seeing her spot him, grinned.
"Old hag," he called out, voice ringing with mockery, "you’ve been trying to lure me out for ages. Well, here I am. Now what? What are you going to do?"
He laughed. "You wanted to use a Living Human Sacrifice ritual—let your grandson be worshiped by ten thousand people, fed with their prayers? I’ll show you what happens when you take that kind of power... and destroy it utterly."
"His body is gone. His soul is shattered. He will never be reborn. What now?"
"You little bastard!" The Old Woman screamed, her voice cracking with rage. "Today, I swear—if I don’t kill you, I will no longer call myself human!"
(End of Chapter)
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