Chapter 19: The Man in Red

Page (1/3)

Fang Zhiyi slightly nodded and casually waved her hand, tossing two magical treasures in front of the two disciples. In front of Li Muwan was an alchemical furnace of indeterminate grade, but there was no doubt that whatever Fang Zhiyi presented was of the highest quality. In front of Jiang Ziqi lay the Divine Arm Bow. Jiang Ziqi’s eyes lit up. “This is perfect for me. Thank you, Master.”

...

It didn’t take long for Fang Zhiyi to realize just how egregiously mistaken she had been in her choice of disciples—especially in taking Jiang Ziqi under her wing. Wang Lin was steady and taciturn, diligent in his tasks yet never seeking credit. Li Muwan was serene and calm, more talkative than Wang Lin but only when prompted; in daily life, she was almost invisible. Jiang Ziqi, on the other hand, was entirely different. When she thought of him, only one word came to mind: noisy.

Jiang Ziqi was like a fly—no, even flies rest when tired, but Jiang Ziqi never seemed to tire, constantly buzzing without pause.

“Master, what do you think of my sword technique?” Jiang Ziqi mimicked Wang Lin’s posture, awkwardly performing a set of sword moves that were, in truth, quite poor. If she were to be honest with him about his true level, Fang Zhiyi feared he would cling to her incessantly, begging to be taught swordsmanship. Deception was the best method.

She simply nodded. “Excellent.”

At these words, Wang Lin, who was diligently practicing five hundred sword swings as instructed by Fang Zhiyi to seek the essence of the sword, paused mid-motion. Jiang Ziqi, ever eager to please, failed to notice the increasingly cold and dark expression overtaking Wang Lin’s face.

Fang Zhiyi propped her head up and said, “It’s getting late, Ziqi. You may go back now.”

“Yes, Master.” Jiang Ziqi left happily.

“Ma Liang.”

The single word—Ma Liang—and then Ziqi—it was like a sharp blade piercing Wang Lin’s heart, though he did not yet understand the indescribable feeling it stirred within him.

“Yes, Master.”

“I want to eat the osmanthus cake you make.”

Since those two had arrived, Wang Lin’s interactions with Fang Zhiyi had lessened, but thankfully he still prepared the daily meals. This brought him into more contact with Fang Zhiyi, who, despite her lack of desire for much else, cared deeply about food.

“Yes, Master, I will prepare it right away.”

Page (2/3)

Fang Zhiyi gave a slight nod, watching Wang Lin walk away.

“I don’t believe you can’t see what your disciple is really thinking.”

The newcomer was clad in a robe of red brocade embroidered with golden threads, resembling burning flames. His phoenix-like eyes tilted slightly upward, radiating brilliance with every glance.

“Noisy,” Fang Zhiyi said coolly, as if dismissing the man before her.

He was unperturbed and sat down beside her, picking up a tea cup and pouring himself a pot of tea, savoring a sip of the fragrant brew.

“I suppose I understand why you keep this disciple close. His skills are impressive.”

Pausing, his phoenix eyes fixed intently on Fang Zhiyi, sparkling as if holding a small hook that drew one in irresistibly.

“Zhiyi, you know my skills are excellent as well.”

“Ma Zaohu, mind your manners.”

The man in red shrugged. “You truly are heartless. If it weren’t for me back then, you wouldn’t be alive today.”

Fang Zhiyi said nothing, but the air around them began to distort, a powerful oppressive aura directed at the man in red.

He understood she was serious now and quickly rose. “Alright, I came today to tell you that the death of Xiao Qi seems closely tied to the Teng family. His inner core has appeared in Teng City.”

At these words, the man’s coquettish demeanor vanished, replaced by solemn gravity.

“The Teng family—”

A flash of murderous intent ignited in Fang Zhiyi’s eyes.

At that moment, the sky half-covered in tea-colored hues turned red, clouds seeming to catch fire as the sun set in the west, casting its afterglow.

The man in red said, “It’s getting late. I have urgent matters to attend to. I will leave now.”

Fang Zhiyi nodded slightly. Soon after, the man turned and vanished without a trace.

Meanwhile, Wang Lin, carrying the osmanthus cakes, immediately caught a strong, sweet fragrance upon arrival—an aroma like incense worn by someone.

Wang Lin keenly sensed it was a man.

The tea on the table confirmed his suspicion. Someone had been here, and their cultivation must be considerable to come and go so stealthily in the War God Hall.

Lowering his head to conceal the depth in his eyes, he said, “Master, the osmanthus cakes are ready.”

Fang Zhiyi nodded. After Wang Lin set down the cakes, he stepped aside.

Fang Zhiyi picked up a piece, the pale yellow petals embedded within. She bit gently, the sweet fragrance of the cake mingling with the osmanthus’s scent. The delicate texture made it seem as though the petals blossomed within her mouth.

“Your craftsmanship is truly as excellent as ever.”

Page (3/3)

Wang Lin lowered his head, a trace of discomfort on his face.

Fang Zhiyi ate a few more pieces before casually asking, “Has the Teng family wronged you?”

Remembering his parents’ tragic deaths and the annihilation of the entire Wang family by the Teng family, Wang Lin clenched his fists tightly, eyes full of hatred.

“Master, my hatred for the Teng family is boundless.”

Fang Zhiyi understood. “I was planning to visit Teng City. Given your current state, perhaps you’ll accompany me? If not, you can send Ziqi.”

Wang Lin clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly before finally loosening them, his voice hoarse. “Master, I am willing to go with you.”

Fang Zhiyi nodded slightly and ate a few more pieces.

A gentle breeze stirred, carrying the osmanthus fragrance and lifting Fang Zhiyi’s long hair. She closed her eyes softly.

Wang Lin observed all this silently.

He thought to himself:

Fang Zhiyi truly possessed a certain cruel innocence about worldly affairs.

...

Fang Zhiyi was a woman of unyielding resolve.

Having declared her intention to visit Teng City, she sent out formal invitations under the name of the War God Hall the next day.

Before leaving, she made a bold proclamation: the War God Hall was now recruiting talents widely. Those who sincerely joined and surrendered their soul blood would be forgiven for past grievances.

Soul blood was crucial to a cultivator.

No cultivator willingly gave up their soul blood, but then again, those who came to the War God Hall now were not there by choice.

When Fang Zhiyi had been gone for so long, everyone had assumed she was dead, and the War God Hall had become a coveted prize.

During that time, they had caused no small amount of trouble for the Hall and committed many hateful deeds.

But now that Fang Zhiyi had returned, aware of all, she would surely take revenge. Joining the War God Hall now was a good opportunity.

But the soul blood...