Blood Slaughter

“If no one deals with that Heaven-Devouring Serpent Dragon, are they saying our Beast Sect has no one capable?!” Lin Jin, a second-year Beast Sect student, fumed. “That damned serpent wreaks havoc nightly, slaughtering spirit beasts. This month alone, three have died in its jaws!”

She was referring to the sixth-tier serpent dragon bonded to Guan Jiayu.

Bound by a death contract, with Guan Jiayu’s recent injury dropping his cultivation to Qi Refining Layer 8, the gap between their strengths widened severely.

The serpent, already restless, was backlashed harshly, showing signs of qi deviation.

Instead of restraining it, Array Sect’s Guan Jiayu let it loose to provoke Beast Sect’s spirit beasts, using slaughter to quell its inner fire.

The Beast Sect suffered, and Teacher Hu Sang decisively subdued the serpent, sealing it in the Demon Suppression Tower’s base.

Yet, just a month later, higher-ups released it under the guise of “sparring to vent qi, not intentional harm.” It was outrageous!

Today, the gathered Beast Sect students were strategizing to demand accountability from Guan Jiayu.

“It’s not about controlling the serpent—it’s about controlling Guan Jiayu,” Chen Xinghao said sharply. “When a spirit beast errs, the master is punished too. But he’s slippery, using schemes to dodge blame. Now he claims to be Array Sect, outside our jurisdiction, as if the serpent’s actions have nothing to do with him!”

“How could they not?!” Li Qingyan, another second-year, snapped. “That serpent targets high-tier spirit beasts to devour and advance. Our peak is in chaos, while he reaps the benefits without lifting a finger. We *must* demand justice!”

“If the sect leader won’t act, nor the grandmaster, then we Sword Sect students will,” Lin Jin gritted out. “This needs to be blown wide open.”

“Post it on the confession wall? Rally the school?” Chen Xinghao frowned. “That’s tearing off all pretense, and it might not work.”

“Let it tear,” Li Qingyan said coldly. “It’s already this bad—how much worse can it get?” She jabbed, “Don’t you care about Yuanbao?”

Yuanbao, struck by the serpent’s yin lightning, lost half its fur, still unregrown. It hid indoors, ignoring its favorite spirit bones, avoiding anything reflective, its usual liveliness gone.

Chen Xinghao ached for Yuanbao but wasn’t impulsive. She had other concerns. “What if Guan Jiayu feigns compliance again, like this time, and changes nothing? We should take the confession wall and press corps to confront him, notarizing a contract.”

In the Sword Sect, the confession wall and press corps were student-run organizations, valued for their speed, exposure, and problem-solving. Over time, they gained credibility, sometimes acting as a student tribunal.

Notarizing a contract before them was formal. Like a modern court, the disputing parties became plaintiff and defendant, the press corps and confession wall as judges, with all sect students as jurors.

With the entire student body’s opinion as the basis, a notarized contract carried their collective authority. As long as Guan Jiayu wanted to stay in the sect, he’d have to respect it. Even if he refused, the Beast Sect could claim the moral high ground, rallying the school against him.

Lin Jin and Li Qingyan were convinced. “This plan’s solid—offensive and defensive. Let’s do it! But if he hides, what then?”

Chen Xinghao paused, then said, “Orchid-Bamboo Society, Spirit Tea Shop.”

The Orchid-Bamboo Society, formed to counter the confession wall, press corps, and second-hand item groups, held certain privileges. Composed mostly of noble-born students, it met monthly at the Spirit Tea Shop’s top floor. Guan Jiayu, a member with rising influence among freshmen, and tied to the shop’s owning family, rarely missed a meeting.

The next meeting was their chance to corner him.

* @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

In a room with draped silk and faint incense, Guan Jiayu jolted awake from a nightmare, drenched in cold sweat, his fine silk nightclothes soaked.

Nightmares plagued him since his injury in the back mountains, haunting him like a ghost, leaving him restless and fearful.

The back mountains were cursed, he thought. Why shouldn’t he, noble and exalted, go there? Normal rules didn’t bind him, and the area teemed with treasures and rare beasts. @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

The physician approached. “Young Master, another nightmare?”

Startled by the presence, Guan Jiayu masked his unease with a strained smile. “You’re here?”

“Chengcui was worried about your restlessness,” the physician said. “What did you dream? Speaking it might ease your heart.”

“Nothing special,” Guan Jiayu deflected, smiling but resistant. He shifted focus. “I’ve taken medicine for a month. Has my cultivation stabilized? When can I resume training?”

“Studying diligently is good, but overexertion risks your foundation,” the physician sighed. “Your back-mountain injury was severe—your core protective artifact shattered, and the qi-drawing pill caused body-spirit fusion issues. You shouldn’t train now. Rest for half a year, stabilize, then plan.”

Not what Guan Jiayu wanted to hear. The family’s physician, both protector and overseer, was respected even by the patriarch. Guan Jiayu’s secret back-mountain trip was already reckless, so he feigned compliance despite inner disdain.

He drank the bitter medicine, sighing, “This Cold Domain Snow Lotus lacks the potency of my childhood doses.”

“Indeed,” the physician lamented. “Aged herbs lose efficacy compared to fresh ones.”

As a patient, Guan Jiayu echoed, “Quite so.”

…

Once the physician left, Guan Jiayu’s face darkened. He summoned Guan Chengcui and Guan Chengtang, his voice slow and cold. “Chengcui, I’m not that frail. The physician’s skilled, but calling him for every ache is bothersome—and makes me seem useless!”

Chengcui caught the rebuke, bowing. “Yes, Young Master.”

Though not targeted, Chengtang bowed too, exuding deference.

After a pause, Guan Jiayu softened slightly. “Why so quiet? You’ve always been loyal—I know.”

Chengcui raised his head. Chengtang murmured, “The Song family sent an invitation for tomorrow’s Orchid-Bamboo Society.”

Orchid-Bamboo? Guan Jiayu frowned. His injury and nightmares had distracted him.

He always attended, but his pallor betrayed his condition. Unwilling to lose face, he considered skipping.

As he moved to decline, Chengtang added, “The Song family says Miss Tang Yueling accepted and will attend.”

Tang Yueling? After countless invitations, this was her first acceptance. Was it the Song family’s plea or his words that swayed her? If she went, he had to.

Guan Jiayu smiled. “Accept for me.”

Chengcui’s lips twitched, but Chengtang’s subtle glare silenced him. Chastened, he lowered his head.

…

Outside, after some distance, Chengcui challenged Chengtang. “Why mention the society? The physician said the Young Master’s injured, his core artifact broken. He should rest, not go out. What if something happens and the patriarch blames us?”

Chengtang snapped, “As if you’re the only one who cares! I said it to lift his spirits, not alienate him. The society’s at our family’s tea shop—our turf. What could go wrong?”

Chengcui bristled. “But the physician—”

“Enough with the physician!” Chengtang cut in. “The Young Master hates his restrictions. You’re adding fuel to the fire. The physician’s esteemed, but not above the Young Master. Know who we serve!”

*

In the dorm, Tang Yueling was picking clothes. Her wardrobe overflowed with exquisite, cloud-like garments, updated quarterly—too many to count. Choosing was a chore.

This was routine for her.

But asking Su Qing’s opinion? Unusual.

Su Qing was famously practical, rotating three similar outfits. Too busy lately, she grabbed clothes blindly, never fussing. Wearing them right-side-out was her only nod to care.

So, her advising Tang Yueling’s wardrobe was odd. She thought every piece looked great.

After earnestly studying a few, then dizzily scanning hundreds, Su Qing pointed. “This one, that one, and that one.”

Tang Yueling pouted. “Why all red?”

“Because you look great in red!” Su Qing said, obvious.

True enough. Tang Yueling’s lips curved. “I look great in anything.”

Exactly.

“I think so too,” Su Qing said, puzzled. “Why me today? I’m not good at this.”

Tang Yueling smirked like a sly fox, saying nothing.

When Su Qing pressed, she teased, “I’m going somewhere you can’t. This outfit’s your stand-in.”

She said no more.

Su Qing, embarrassed by her own past secrecy, didn’t push. “Fine, tell me after. I want the first scoop!”

Tang Yueling’s eyes widened, glaring. Now she was the embarrassed one.

Su Qing grinned, satisfied.

*

Orchid-Bamboo Society.

This meeting wasn’t held in the *Spring Tea Invitation Scroll* but, unusually, in a private room.

The featured artifact, Life Immortal, was delicate, damaged by dense qi, leaving irreversible marks.

Only four noble families were invited: Song, Qi, Guan, and Tang—the sect’s most prominent. The Life Immortal’s power was evident. Attendance was capped at two per family.

Qi sent Qi Libei and Qi Lifeng, representing their reclusive clan. Song, the hosts, sent sisters Song Huiyi and Song Huisi. Tang sent Tang Yueling and Tang Shitao. Guan sent Guan Jiayu and Guan Chengtang.

As hosts, the Song sisters displayed the fifth-tier Orchid-Bamboo Grass, the society’s symbol.

The room buzzed with pleasantries. Tang Yueling loathed this, but Tang Shitao handled it deftly.

Song Huiyi smiled. “I didn’t expect Sister Tang to accept my invitation. You’ve missed past gatherings, leaving us wanting. This fulfills my wish.”

Tang Shitao replied playfully, “New to the sect, I’ve been swamped. Everything needs attention. I wanted to come but had no time. Thank you for thinking of us—I’ll toast you with tea.”

She downed her spirit tea briskly.

Guan Jiayu smiled too. For the event, he’d used a secret method to mask his injury, his face radiant and ethereal, betraying no weakness.

He raised his tea, fingers long and pale. “Not just the Song sisters—I’ve missed you too, Yueling. A toast?”

Tang Shitao’s heart sank.

Guan Jiayu was too familiar. Yueling, free-spirited, hated being pressured. She’d likely rebuff him.

She braced for Yueling’s cold response, planning damage control.

To her shock, Yueling raised an eyebrow, smirked, and drank deeply.

Guan Jiayu’s smile deepened at her gesture.

Others noted it thoughtfully: the Guan family was eyeing a Tang alliance. But with Guan Jiayu as a secondary heir behind his brother, and Yueling as Tang’s only daughter, the match was unlikely. No wonder he tried so hard to charm her.

Everyone saw through it but stayed silent, raising cups in unison.

Tang Shitao’s heart sank further. Yueling’s compliance spelled trouble.

After three rounds of tea, the small talk dragged. Tang Yueling’s patience waned, her smile fading. Guan Jiayu, ever-watchful, noticed her chill. Guan Chengtang, catching it, turned to the Song sisters.

“Sisters, what’s so special about this Life Immortal that it needs such delicate handling?”

Song Huiyi opened a long box on the table. “This is the Life Immortal. A magic tool? Not quite. It can’t use qi—what kind of tool is that? Treat it as ordinary.”

She donned silk gloves and revealed an ivory object, like a kaleidoscope or telescope, lacking the glow of typical treasures.

“The key is the lens,” she said. “The rest is decoration. It’s fragile, limited to three uses daily, and damaged by qi. Without its fate-seeing ability, I’d not bother showing it.”

Song Huisi added, “Fate is precious and hard to discern. The Life Immortal shows only vague glimpses, no privacy breach. We’ve tested it on each other. Who wants today’s three uses?”

Qi Libei perked up. “Sounds fun. I’ll try.”

Gloved, he took the Life Immortal, playfully aiming it at Qi Lifeng, grinning smugly.

Qi Lifeng fake-smiled. “See anything?”

“It’s dark, blurry—need to focus,” Qi Libei said, then gasped. “A blood line! A blood calamity soon!”

A jest, delivered carelessly—not serious.

Qi Lifeng punched his shoulder. “Obviously! Cultivation defies the heavens—who doesn’t bleed? That’s all this treasure shows?”

Laughter filled the room.

Tang Yueling straightened, eyes glinting. The Life Immortal was accurate.

After the Qi brothers, it was the Tang and Guan families’ turn.

With each family sending one main and one attendant, would Tang Shitao read Yueling’s fate? Or Guan Chengtang read Guan Jiayu’s?

The air grew tense.

Tang Yueling toyed with the Life Immortal, laughing brightly. “My fate’s obviously great. Shitao’s too, by my side. Reading each other’s boring. Let’s read across.”

Guan Jiayu met her challenging gaze, unsettled, but smiled. “Why not?”

Tang Yueling handed the tool to Tang Shitao, voice lazy. “Shitao, read Young Master Guan’s fate for me. Though it’s surely noble.”

Her words were cutting.

Guan Jiayu’s face darkened. Silence fell.

Her having Shitao read his fate was tantamount to saying he wasn’t worth her attention. @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

How dare she? If not for the Tang family’s status, would he lower himself so?

Yes, he admired her, showed her kindness, but how could she trample his sincerity?

Minds raced. Guan Chengtang broke a cold sweat—Tang Yueling was too brazen. What now?

Tang Shitao exhaled. Yueling had acted, but mildly—a relief.

Yueling, unfazed, grew more excited. “What, Young Master Guan backing out?”

At this point, Guan Jiayu couldn’t back down—losing face. He smiled through gritted teeth, gesturing politely. “Please.”

Tang Shitao felt apologetic but wouldn’t defy Yueling, knowing her status came from her.

Under Guan Jiayu’s heavy gaze, she raised the Life Immortal to her eye, aiming at him. But before she could see, a commotion erupted below.

Footsteps surged like a tide, heavy with authority. Manager Lin’s voice pierced through, shrill. “No, you can’t go up!” “Where’s the law?” “Help! Someone help!”

A voice mocked, “Law? You talk law? If there was law, would my spirit beast be dead?”

Guan Chengtang stood, relieved, blocking Guan Jiayu and the Life Immortal. “Shall I check the disturbance?”

Guan Jiayu nodded, frowning. “Why’s it so noisy?”

As Chengtang left, a small, thin child in errand clothes approached, timid. “Young Master Jiayu, someone’s looking for you.”

Guan Jiayu recognized him from the tea shop. Eager to escape the awkward moment, he smiled at the group. “Excuse me.”

As he stepped out, a sharp *rip* cut through the room. A sword light shattered the window, and a black figure emerged amidst falling dust, untouched by it.

Everyone gasped. The Song sisters summoned defensive artifacts. The Qi brothers stepped forward, identifying her.

“Miss Tianning!”

It was Tianning, her beauty divine, her presence ghostly. Her ink-black eyes scanned coldly, Xuejin Sword gleaming chillingly in the dim light.

Qi Libei, surprised and guilty, averted his gaze. Qi Lifeng stepped up. “Miss Tianning, if you wanted to join, just say so. Why go to such trouble?”

Breaking in through a window?

Tang Yueling nearly laughed, propping her cheek, watching eagerly. Finally, the moment she’d endured Guan Jiayu’s overreach and the room’s fake pleasantries for.

She had no proof Guan Jiayu harmed Su Qing, but Tianning had innate authority over the Qi family. What better way to warn others than punishing the Qi brothers in his presence?

Too bad Guan Jiayu missed it—she’d have loved his reaction.

Tianning was cold as her sword, meant to be wielded as one.

She said only, “You seem guilty seeing me.”

Qi Libei stepped forward to explain.

Tianning gave no chance. Two swift sword strikes flashed, snow crystals filled the air, and the room turned icy.

Both Qi brothers were stabbed through, mercilessly!

Qi Libei, sweating in pain, clutched his bleeding wound, ignoring Qi Lifeng’s restraint. “Tianning, why always side with outsiders? We grew up together! What’s she worth to you?”

Tianning’s face was blank. “My choice.”

Her words hit harder than her sword, making Qi Libei spit blood.

Everyone froze, except Tang Yueling, unsurprised. Her red dress blazed like enemy blood, as if standing in for Su Qing. But Tang Shitao paled, trembling.

If the Life Immortal showed Qi Lifeng’s blood line, foretelling a calamity…

What did the all-red vision of Guan Jiayu mean?

She’d seen it for a moment, overwhelmed by terrifying red, unable to see more.

Tang Yueling noticed her distress. “What’s wrong?”

Tang Shitao opened her mouth but couldn’t speak. Saying it would bring disaster. Silence was her only choice.

She forced a pale smile. “Nothing, just startled.”

…

Guan Jiayu followed the small errand boy out.

Perhaps because he’d escaped an awkward moment, Guan Jiayu was unusually kind to a servant.

“You look familiar,” he said gently. “I know you.”

The boy turned, surprised. “A noble like you knows me?”

His tone held no gratitude, irking Guan Jiayu slightly. How dare a lowly servant meet his gaze?

The irritation creased his brow, but the boy sighed, “See, you don’t really know me.”

How dare he speak so!

Before Guan Jiayu could retort, a chilling dread seized him. Time stretched endlessly, and he watched the filthy boy flick a poisoned silver needle into his face.

It couldn’t harm him, he thought. His core artifact protected him.

He had his cultivation.

He was noble, born with everything. A mere servant couldn’t kill him—unworthy of being his calamity.

He’d knock him down, not kill him. He’d have him tortured—nails pulled, tendons cut, limbs severed. Fed healing pills, he’d endure regrowth pain, repeating the cycle.

That’s what he thought, before the needle scrambled his mind, before darkness claimed him.

He’d forgotten: his core artifact was gone. Other tools couldn’t shield him fully.

He was injured—chased by wolves in the back mountains, torn by endless grass, haunted by suffocating terror.

Worse, excessive qi-drawing pills fused his body and spirit, crashing his cultivation.

And this “lowly” servant wasn’t mortal, hiding his true, superior cultivation with a secret method.

Most crucially, he’d planned this murder for three years, waiting for Guan Jiayu’s enrollment.

Worse still, a minor creature had subtly cursed him, drawing misfortune and death.

*

When Chen Yu, the steward, summoned Su Qing, she was still holding her tea-pounding pestle.

Chen Yu’s unprecedented seriousness tightened her heart.

She shared two things.

First, Guan Jiayu was dead, killed by Liu Xiaofeng.

Second, Liu Xiaofeng fled. The Guan family demanded search rights and everyone linked to him.