Jiang Feihu’s furious outburst was all it took to set Lu Yuanlang off. As the most gifted inner disciple of Tianmu Mountain, Lu had never been cursed to his face like that before. Even the enemies who’d died at his hands... some clung to false hope and stayed silent, others simply never had time to speak before they were cut down.

It was just one insult, but in all his thirty years of cultivation, it was the first time anyone had dared say such a thing to him.

And of course, the moment those words left Jiang Feihu’s mouth, his head went flying.

After that, Lu Yuanlang’s killing grew faster, harsher. Anyone who answered even slightly wrong was struck down on the spot. He didn’t give a single person the chance to hurl insults before dying.

Even on Wulong Mountain, men like Jiang Feihu who feared neither pain nor death were rare. But no one really knew where Wei Hongqing had gone. So people started guessing wildly: some said Lingnan, some said Wu and Yue, others said the northern plains or even Bashu.

But Lu Yuanlang wasn’t someone you could fool that easily. One look, a few sharp questions, and he’d know if you were lying. Burning with rage, he spared no one. Cutting down one after another until the mountain reeked of blood.

Liu Xiaolou was torn between grief and gratitude. Ten people had already been killed, yet not one of them had given him up... not even mentioned his name as one of the “Twin Handsomes of Wulong Mountain” alongside Wei Hongqing. What would happen next, no one could say. But for now, the courage and loyalty of his fellow brothers were truly something to be sung about.

It was finally Yun Ao’s turn. Lu Yuanlang released the acupoint seal and dragged him forward. Yun Ao was terrified. His voice cracked as he shouted, “I’m Yun Ao from White Cloud Manor! A disciple of the Danxia Sect! I’m with Danxia, not Wulong Mountain!”

Lu Yuanlang blinked, his mind finally clearing a bit. “You say you’re from the Danxia Sect? How can you prove it?”

Yun Ao stammered, “My home’s south of Shenwu Mountain, a thousand li from here! I-I’m married into the Hua clan, your Tianmu Mountain’s own branch family! My wife is Hua Fusu, the second daughter of the Hua family’s main line. My father-in-law is Hua Mengmei, and my brother-in-law Hua Fuxin serves as an inner-sect steward at Tianmu Mountain!”

That lineage was too specific to be a lie. “I’ve inherited the White Cloud Sword Technique,” Yun Ao pressed on. “Please, lend me a sword to prove it!”

When he’d been captured the night before, Yun Ao’s White Cloud Sword had fallen somewhere on Qianzhu Ridge. Now, he urgently needed to prove who he was. To show he truly came from the Yun family.

Lu Yuanlang flicked his hand, and a sword flew from one of the nearby corpses straight into his grasp. He tossed it to Yun Ao. Yun Ao poured his true qi into the blade. Light flared from the tip, forming a three-foot beam of sword qi, lightning crackling faintly within it.

The weapon was only a low-grade artifact, and the flashes of lightning sputtered on and off, but the wind-and-thunder essence of the Danxia Sect’s swordsmanship was unmistakable. No question. It was the mark of a true disciple of a great and prestigious sect.

Lu Yuanlang’s gaze swept over Yun Ao again... his robes, his bearing, and the cool jade pendant at his waist. Finally, he believed him. What kind of bandit would waste money on something so refined and useless? Anyone that poor would’ve pawned it for spirit stones long ago.

For the first time that night, Lu Yuanlang felt a flicker of relief. If he’d killed this man without asking, he might’ve made an enemy of the Danxia Sect. And in just a few days, he was supposed to attend their Sword Trial at Danxia Grotto Heaven... what a mess that would’ve been if he’d already slain one of their own.

“You come from a noble family, what are you doing in a bandit’s den like this?” Lu Yuanlang asked, his relief giving way to irritation.

“I came looking for the Su family’s son-in-law from Shenwu Mountain…” Yun Ao explained, pointing toward Liu Xiaolou behind him.

Lu Yuanlang frowned, thinking for a moment. “Ah, yes… I’ve heard about that.” He tapped Liu Xiaolou’s acupoint, releasing his seal. “So tell me, why aren’t you living comfortably with the Su family? What brings you back to Wulong Mountain, playing at being a bandit again? Can’t shake your old habits?”

Liu Xiaolou staggered as he stood, nearly falling before managing to sit up again. In that motion, he quickly shoved the Qiankun pouch deeper into his underwear; he was genuinely terrified now. Carrying around a storage artifact of unknown origin was bad luck. The thought of Lu Yuanlang searching him made his blood run cold, but there was nothing he could do.

He forced his face stay calm and said stiffly: “The Su family cast me out...” Almost without thinking, he reached into his robe, pulled out a yellowed sheet of paper, and sent it drifting toward Lu Yuanlang.

Lu Yuanlang caught it, glanced at the writing, and let out a cold chuckle. “Ah, so that’s how it is.” He tossed the divorce paper back. “Do you know where Wei Hongqing went?” he asked.

Liu Xiaolou shook his head. “Wei Hongqing left Wulong Mountain years ago. I’ve never heard of him coming back. I only returned myself last year after being cast out. Honestly, anyone from Wulong Mountain who gets even the slightest chance to make something of themselves would never come back here.

You saw it yourself, Third Young Master. So many people died. Do you think they weren’t afraid? We’re all terrified. Scared to death. But the truth is… no one knows where he’s gone.”

Seeing that Lu Yuanlang wasn’t killing at random anymore, and actually letting him speak, Liu Xiaolou finally found the courage to continue. “The people of Wulong Mountain… we’re not exactly good men, I’ll admit that. But all we ever wanted was to cultivate. To become stronger. If you’re punishing them for their crimes, I have no right to complain. But if all this killing is just to force out Wei Hongqing’s whereabouts, then I beg you to think twice!”

Lu Yuanlang frowned and swept his gaze around. “For the sake of your past ties to the Su family,” he said coldly, “I’ll spare your life. Go back to your mountain. Third Lu doesn’t need your advice.”

With that, he flicked his sleeve, and another figure was yanked forward. It was a young one this time. And it was Li Busan.

Sweat poured down the boy’s face, his whole body trembling. He wanted to speak, but no sound came. There was only fear in his wide, desperate eyes.

Liu Xiaolou’s face went pale. Li Busan was practically his half-disciple; he’d guided and trained the boy for a year. He couldn’t just watch him die like this.

“Third Young Master, please spare him!” Liu Xiaolou cried out. “He’s only sixteen, just stepped into the second layer. He doesn’t know anything yet!”

Lu Yuanlang released the acupoint sealing Li Busan’s movements and looked at him coldly. “And what if I kill him?” he said. “He was born in a den of thieves, killing him wouldn’t be wrong. Maybe it’s unfair now, but better that than letting him grow into another scourge on the world. Tell me, boy, will you become a bandit one day?”

Li Busan trembled so hard his teeth chattering. He was terrified beyond reason, his head jerking in a way that could’ve been nodding or shaking. You couldn't possibly tell.

Lu Yuanlang’s voice softened slightly, though his eyes stayed sharp. “Very well,” he said slowly. “I’ll take that as a no. Since you’re not going to be a bandit, then speak honestly. No lies.”

He leaned in just enough for the boy to feel the weight of his gaze. “Tell me, where did Wei Hongqing go?”

Li Busan’s voice broke as he answered, almost a sob. “I… I don’t know…”

“Then tell me... who would know?”

Li Busan squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I really… I really don’t… know…”

Lu Yuanlang’s expression hardened. He raised his hand slowly. “So, you’re not afraid to die?”

Nearby, his master Dragon Mountain Wanderer, had his meridians sealed. Paralyzed and voiceless, he could only let out hoarse, broken gasps that were barely audible even to himself. Helpless, he watched, tears spilling down his weathered face.

Once again, Liu Xiaolou stepped forward, shielding the boy with his own body. “Third Young Master, please,” he pleaded, bowing low. “Spare him, he’s just a child.”

Lu Yuanlang’s brows drew together. “Move aside.”

But Liu Xiaolou bent even lower, his voice trembling now. “He’s still just a child, Third Young Master! Please!”

Lu Yuanlang didn’t waste another word. With a flick of his sleeve, a burst of force slammed into Liu Xiaolou, sending him flying several yards through the air like a rag doll. He hit the ground hard, the breath crushed from his chest. Pain seared through him, but he didn’t care. He shouted hoarsely from where he lay:

“Brother Yun! Stop him! Don’t let him kill the boy! He’s just a child; you’ve seen him before! I took him to the General’s Temple twice, remember?”

Yun Ao clenched his jaw and stepped forward, forcing himself to block Lu Yuanlang’s path. “Third Young Master,” he said tightly, “please… let the boy go.”

Lu Yuanlang’s voice thundered like a whip. “Let him go? Who let my brothers go? My cousin Zhongqiu was killed by that dog Wei! And my second brother, my own flesh and blood, also murdered by him! He lived right under my nose for five years, hiding it from me all that time! That son of a bitch…”

Yun Ao had no answer.

From the ground, Liu Xiaolou’s voice cracked with desperation. “Even so, you can’t just kill a child!”

Lu Yuanlang snorted. “A child? He’s sixteen! When I was sixteen, I was already killing bandits. Now move aside!”

Just then, a voice suddenly rang out across Ghostdream Cliff:

“In the eyes of your elders, a child is always a child.”

A man drifted up from below and landed behind Lu Yuanlang. Instinctively, Lu Yuanlang spun sideways and took three quick steps back. He wasn’t about to expose his back to an unknown enemy. “Who are you?” he demanded.

The man looked to be around fifty, tall and thin. Beneath his sharp cheekbones, his bones jutted out like the gnarled roots of an old tree. It was unsettling to look at.

He chuckled dryly.

“So you’re Lu Yuanlang? I’ve heard you’re one of the most promising talents from under Mount Tianmu. I wonder how you measure up against Qu Xuan of the Zhanglong Sect, hmm?”

His grin widened.

“Name’s Tu Junyi. Heard something strange was going on up here on Wulong Mountain, so I came to take a look. Sure enough... Tell me, didn’t your sect master warn you? Wulong Mountain is a boundary mountain. It's not a place to wander into lightly.”