The people had fled, but they had left their threats behind. Ling Chuxi knew the temper of these aristocratic young masters. They would certainly not let the matter rest. Before long, they would likely bring helpers back for revenge. After thinking it over, she put her mask back on and changed into men’s clothing again.

Once she had checked that there were no flaws, Ling Chuxi continued forward. She did not know whether those few were truly of her own clan, and she was a little curious, so of course she wanted to go take a look. Until she was sure, however, she did not want another conflict with them.

She walked for more than an hour without seeing those young men appear again.

Had she misjudged them? Did those fellows actually have a bit of backbone and feel too embarrassed to call people to help them take revenge? Either way, Ling Chuxi’s mood relaxed quite a bit.

Ahead, a sudden clash of metal rang out. It seemed someone was fighting. Ling Chuxi quickened her pace and hurried over.

Up ahead, a middle-aged man stood with his sword drawn, his whole body radiating a chilling killing intent. Facing him were more than ten people. Aside from a white-haired old man, the rest were of all ages, men and women alike. The youngest looked only fifteen or sixteen.

Although the numbers were wildly uneven, the gap in strength was just as extreme. The middle-aged man was completely unharmed, while the dozen or so led by the old man were all wounded and barely had any fight left in them.

“Just who are you?” The old man gripped his sword hilt tightly. A thread of blood slid down his arm and dripped from his fingertips onto the ground. Clearly, his injuries were not light.

“Who I am is not important. I’ll advise you once more—go back the way you came, and don’t throw your lives away for nothing.” The middle-aged man’s tone was cold.

The old man looked over the juniors of his clan, and at last his gaze settled on the youngest boy. His expression wavered with hesitation, as if he found it very hard to decide.

Ling Chuxi arrived just in time to see this scene. She recognized neither side, so she did not intervene. She only instinctively followed the old man’s gaze.

When she saw the boy’s face clearly, Ling Chuxi was slightly startled. The youth looked so familiar, as if she had seen him somewhere before. She did not know many people in the Venerable Realm. After a moment’s thought, she remembered—this boy’s features were eight-tenths similar to Lu Weidong’s.

Could he be a descendant of the Lu family? The more Ling Chuxi looked, the more likely it seemed. The resemblance was simply too strong.

Back when the Dao Validation Alliance had suddenly attacked the Illusory Sword Supreme Residence, nearly all the experts under the Illusory Sword Supreme Residence had gone to the Black Zen Supreme Residence, leaving them with no strength to resist before their entire household was wiped out. They said the entire household—but who dared say for certain that one or two stragglers had not slipped through the net?

While Ling Chuxi was quietly guessing, the old man suddenly gritted his teeth, leapt into the air, and charged fiercely at the middle-aged man.

“Courting death!” The middle-aged man gave a contemptuous cold shout and casually chopped out with his sword.

Only now did Ling Chuxi see their strength clearly. The middle-aged man was at the mid Mystique Venerable stage. By Ling Chuxi’s present standards that was nothing much, but in ordinary people’s eyes it was more than enough to be called an expert.

The old man was only at the early Mystique Venerable stage. He was already a notch weaker, and wounded on top of that. How could he possibly block that sword?

A clear ring sounded. The long sword flew from his grip, and the old man grunted as he stumbled back again and again, clearly having had his meridians shaken by that stroke.

Having landed a successful blow, the middle-aged man showed no further mercy. He swung his sword straight down at the old man’s head.

“Father!” A woman in the crowd suddenly charged out, trying to block that sword for him. But the moment their blades crossed, her own long sword was also struck flying. The residual sword light had not faded; it drove straight toward the vital pulse at her chest.

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