Chapter 83, Silenced

Translator: StarReader

 

Su Chen glanced at Daoist Qinghe’s left arm. The sleeve hung empty from the obviously missing limb, leaving only the right arm intact.

 

Daoist Qinghe’s skills were such that few below the Grandmaster Stage could hope to strike him down, let alone sever an arm. There were no whispers in the Wu Region’s martial world about Han Mountain Daoist Temple’s abbot having fought and been heavily injured.

 

It was more likely he was punished by Daoist Han Shan for losing the Immortal Book.

 

Such punishment was trifling compared to the crime of colluding with pirates. Years ago, Su Chen had contemplated ways to ensure this old Daoist suffered severe consequences, even going so far as planning to gather evidence of his collusion and secretly send it to Gusu County’s constable for execution. But now, such measures were unnecessary.

 

As for Ding Shisan, the pirate leader consorting with Daoist Qinghe, he was beyond redemption.

 

Su Chen looked towards Ding Shisan and calmly said, “Ding Shisan, there’s no rush to leave. Three years ago on Gusu’s great river, you narrowly escaped by jumping into the water. Now that fate has brought us together again, why not stay awhile?”

 

“Three years… You know me?” Ding Shisan was about to slip away into the woods when Su Chen’s words stopped him in his tracks, surprise and confusion written across his face.

 

He was no reckless pirate, always investigating his targets before striking. Yet three years ago, while pillaging Merchant Li’s grain shipment with ten of his men, they had encountered a mysterious blue-clad laborer. That encounter resulted in their most devastating defeat; all his comrades were lost save for him.

 

Had it not been for his swift diving skills, he too might have met his end that day, killed by the blue-clad laborer and sleeping with the fishes.

 

But now, fate had given them another chance.

 

“Could that mysterious blue-clad laborer I met at the Great River be you?” Ding Shisan suddenly recalled, his voice indeed sounding like that of the blue-clad youth.

 

He stumbled back in shock, nearly blacking out from fear, ready to flee.

 

But then he remembered Daoist Qinghe, a peak first-rate expert from the Wu Region, was nearby. Su Chen posed no threat to him.

 

“Daoist,” Ding Shisan quickly said, “This blue-clad youth spoiled my robbery of the Li family’s goods three years ago! Please, Daoist, avenge us and kill him!”

 

“This boy ruined your robbery?” Daoist Qinghe’s drooping eyelids snapped open. A venomous glare shot from his once-indolent eyes, scanning Su Chen. “Since he’s here today, I’ll send him on his way myself!”

 

He couldn’t sense anything extraordinary about Su Chen, who was likely just a mediocre cultivator three years ago and probably hadn’t improved much since. He was barely an average first-rate expert now.

 

“Let your skills do the talking,” Su Chen replied calmly.

 

“Insolent brat!” Daoist Qinghe sneered, drawing his light sword. “You’re nothing but a bug against the storm! How dare you overstep!”

 

He strode towards Su Chen, who stood at the edge of the small forest.

 

“Ding Shisan,” he barked, “Scram, now! If anyone else finds us here, I’ll kill both of you and claim we stumbled upon pirates conspiring together!”

 

Daoist Qinghe could pull it off. Ding Shisan didn’t linger; he hurriedly darted into the dense forest, racing towards the Vastest Lake.

 

Su Chen glanced at the direction of the trees, his expression frosty, unmoving. He’d deal with Daoist Qinghe first, then go after Ding Shisan.

 

“Young Master Su,” Ah Nu’s face was panicked as she leapt onto her black colt. “That Daoist is Daoist Qinghe, the acting abbot of the Han Mountain Daoist Temple. He’s a renowned first-rate expert in the martial world. We can’t take him on; we should mount up and flee!”

 

They’d stumbled upon Daoist Qinghe’s secret dealings with the pirates, and now he was out to silence them.

 

“Step back three paces and close your eyes,” Su Chen said calmly to Ah Nu.

 

Ah Nu, seeing no intention of retreat from Su Chen, paled but obediently closed her eyes, unwilling to watch the fight.

 

Her martial skills were low. She would be more hindrance than help in this battle. She’d heard Ah Chou mention that Su Chen’s skill was at a peak, first-rate realm among his peers. But Daoist Qinghe was a veteran of many years, second only to the Grandmasters in the martial world’s hierarchy.

 

Though both were first-rate experts, how could Su Chen hope to match Daoist Qinghe’s experience?

 

Her heart hit rock bottom in despair.

 

…

 

Daoist Qinghe let out a cold laugh, gripping his gleaming sword, and in an instant, he moved. His foot tapped the ground, shattering it. He launched skyward, his body becoming a swirling vortex of power.

 

Daoist Qinghe roared, pouring his lifetime’s worth of robust True Qi into the light sword. The blade flashed into a dazzling snow-white beam, “Day and Moon Piercing Sword.”

 

The brilliant sword aura burst forth, stretching over a foot, like an unstoppable sun blazing towards Su Chen.

 

This radiant strike held his lifetime’s essence; its True Qi was dense and powerful enough to cleave metal and shear iron, instantly killing even a late first-rate expert.

 

Yet, Su Chen’s expression remained unchanged. He stood still.

 

Three years ago, having just reached second-rate, face-to-face with this peak first-rate veteran, Su Chen might not have escaped with his life. But today, Daoist Qinghe fell short.

 

Daoist Qinghe didn’t want him alive; Su Chen wasn’t planning to let the two of them off the hook.

 

Just as Daoist Qinghe’s sword move was about to strike Su Chen, Su Chen moved. An ordinary herb knife from his sleeve was gripped, infused with powerful True Qi.

 

The knife darted forth like a slippery Silverback Swordfish. In that moment, it seemed the entire world consisted only of this agile blade’s trajectory, precisely striking the side edge of the sword wave.

 

A meteoric streak collided with the resplendent sun. Astonishingly, Daoist Qinghe’s formidable sword, fueled by his robust True Qi, was deflected by a mere herb-picking knife, altering its course to brush past Su Chen.

 

The herb-picking knife remained unyielding, continuing its resolute path and sliding past Daoist Qinghe’s light sword. It inched closer to Daoist Qinghe, who widened his eyes in astonishment, hurriedly attempting to retreat.

 

“Pfft!”

 

The herb-picking knife accelerated, pursuing Daoist Qinghe as he stumbled backwards. It grazed his throat, slicing through his protective True Qi barrier, leaving a thin, several-inch-long gash on his neck.

 

Daoist Qinghe staggered back several steps, eyes bulging in disbelief as he clutched his neck. His formidable True Qi protection had been severed by a single strike.

 

The Wu Region’s best first-rate expert couldn’t withstand even one of Su Chen’s attacks.

 

“You… You’re Wu Region’s… Eighth…” Daoist Qinghe gasped, his gaze fixed on the blur that was Su Chen, shock etched onto his face. It wasn’t until his final moment that he realized the truth.

 

Blood trickled from his throat, preventing him from speaking further.

 

The eighth and youngest Grandmaster?

 

…

 

A soft thud echoed from the edge of the small forest.

 

Ah Nu, with eyes closed, awaited Su Chen’s dying cry that never came.

 

She opened them in surprise. There stood Daoist Qinghe, throat slit, slumping against a tree, his lifeless gaze fixed in disbelief. Su Chen, calm and collected, held a small harvesting knife.

 

Han Mountain Daoist Temple’s abbot, a renowned first-rate expert, lay dead at their feet.

 

Ah Nu stared at Su Chen, shock etched on her face. How could a first-rate expert like him act with such audacity? A senior master had fallen in an instant.

 

Su Chen didn’t glance back at Daoist Qinghe. He leapt into the woods, chasing Ding Shisan. But Ding Shisan was already out of the woods, diving into Vastest Lake and disappearing beneath its surface.

 

Su Chen frowned, annoyed. That Ding Shisan was unbelievably lucky; he’d escaped again. Su Chen heard a distant gallop drawing near. A group was approaching them swiftly.

 

“Damn it!” Su Chen couldn’t afford to delve deeper into the Vastest Lake and hunt the pirate.

 

He swiftly turned back. “Let’s go,” he urged, noticing figures approaching. “We can’t stay here!”

 

Su Chen leapt onto his horse, with Ah Nu, still stunned by the turn of events, mounting hers beside him. Together they galloped away from this crime scene.

 

Within thirty miles of Vaulting Mountains, many martial artists had gathered for the hunt. If other martial artists discovered that the Daoist Qinghe was killed here, Su Chen knew he’d have no explanation to offer.