Chapter 27: Chapter 27
Hm?
What did he mean by that?
Confusion flickered across every face.
Only Jin Buhuan’s heart seized — he remembered his own words from moments ago.
“Are you saying you’re the mystery man who was with Ye Qingmei?”
BOOM.
The words hit like a thunderclap. Disbelief rippled through the room.
“Don’t let him rattle you!”
“Even if he is that mystery man — so what? He’s only seventh-rank. We have three sixth-rank masters here!” Qin Wuyang barked.
At that, Jin Buhuan and the others let out a collective breath.
He was right. Even if Li Suifeng was the mystery man — even if he possessed the power to cut down a sixth-rank fighter — they’d heard the details. That terrifying blade could only be unleashed once. The second strike was drastically weaker.
“Li Suifeng, you’re young, you’re strong, and you’ve grasped blade intent.”
“If you were a year or two younger, the Human Rankings would have a new name.” The Red Lotus Sect envoy’s voice was mild.
“Come with me to see Elder Yun. Join our Red Lotus Sect. The jianghu of the future will have a seat for you.”
“Envoy!” Qin Wuyang’s face twisted with disbelief.
He couldn’t be certain Li Suifeng was the one who’d killed Song Xian, but the man had slaughtered dozens of Red Lotus Sect disciples at the docks — and now the envoy was trying to recruit him?
“Silence.”
The envoy fixed Qin Wuyang with a frigid glare. Qin Wuyang didn’t dare utter another word.
This envoy served directly under Elder Yun. Even the late Song Xian had been deferential in his presence.
But the resentment burned.
The situation had simply overpowered him. Li Suifeng’s talent had caught the envoy’s eye.
Jin Buhuan and Qian Bao exchanged a glance. Neither had expected events to take this turn.
But if Li Suifeng truly was the masked swordsman at Ye Qingmei’s side — then yes, he was worth recruiting.
Barely in his twenties, already wielding blade intent strong enough for the Human Rankings, plus a technique that could cut down fighters above his rank. That kind of talent warranted serious investment.
“With your gifts, the Canal Gang is beneath you. Join the Red Lotus Sect and your ceiling is far higher.” The envoy pressed again.
“You could even become a Holy Son of our sect.”
“The pie you’re painting looks delicious.” Li Suifeng shook his head with a faint smile. “But I’m not interested.”
“Then you leave me no choice but to send you to your death.”
The envoy’s eyes dropped to half-mast.
In an instant, his fingers erupted like a storm — a blinding rain of jabs. Afterimages of dozens of fingers materialized simultaneously, sealing every pressure point across Li Suifeng’s body.
“Magnificent!”
“That finger technique alone surpasses seventy percent of Nanzhou’s sixth-rank masters!”
Jin Buhuan praised openly.
“I’m outclassed—”
But before he could finish the sentence, a dazzling arc of blade-light flashed.
“AAAGH!”
The curtain of finger-shadows dissolved. A scream tore through the hall. Five of the envoy’s fingers had been sheared off at the root, dropping to the floor.
Before the scream could fade, Qian Bao struck — one palm driving toward Li Suifeng’s exposed back.
A hand rose to meet it, colliding with Qian Bao’s palm.
WHAM!
Qian Bao’s body was hurled backward. Frost crystallized across his brow.
PFFT!
PFFT!
Three mouthfuls of blood in rapid succession before color returned to Qian Bao’s face.
In the space of a breath — two sixth-rank masters, one minus five fingers, the other hemorrhaging from internal injuries.
“This…”
Jin Buhuan’s face was carved from stone. One hand rested on the hilt of the saber that had been his companion for years — but the blade refused to leave the scabbard.
“You’re not seventh-rank. You’re sixth?”
PFFT!
Qian Bao spat yet another mouthful of blood, disbelief contorting his features.
That palm — Li Suifeng’s true qi had carried a biting cold that nearly froze him solid. It hadn’t merely wounded him; even now, frost clung to his internal organs.
True qi of that caliber couldn’t possibly belong to a seventh-rank fighter.
“HSSS—”
The agony of ten severed fingers sent the envoy sucking air through clenched teeth.
“You’re not Li Suifeng. Who are you really?”
He couldn’t accept that a twenty-three-year-old had reached the sixth rank — peak sixth, at that.
Even the Little Marquis of War, Zhuo Dongliu, had only been at late seventh-rank a year ago.
Twenty-three-year-old sixth-rank fighters existed, yes — but they were exceedingly rare.
If one of the top factions had secretly cultivated such a talent, perhaps. But a minor Canal Gang branch? Impossible.
Someone had to be wearing Li Suifeng’s face.
【Ding!】
【Task issued: Subjugate Jin Buhuan. Seize control of the Three Rivers Fortress.】
【Task Reward: Golden Body Art.】
Hm?
The system prompt came out of nowhere.
But Li Suifeng’s expression didn’t shift.
He’d come to the Three Rivers Fortress precisely to bring Jin Buhuan to heel.
Ignoring the envoy, Li Suifeng turned his gaze to Jin Buhuan.
“Fortress Master Jin — I’m here for you.”
“For me?” Jin Buhuan’s heart clenched. The hand on his saber hilt dropped to his side.
His combat ability was on par with Qian Bao’s. Li Suifeng clearly hadn’t gone all out just now. If Jin Buhuan made a move, the result would be no different.
“How may I be of service, Boss Li?”
Jin Buhuan’s attitude shifted on a dime.
In the jianghu, strength was the only currency that mattered.
“I want you to work for me.” Li Suifeng’s voice was even.
Qian Bao was both shocked and furious. Li Suifeng had some nerve — trying to annex one of the Moon Lake Eighteen Strongholds for himself.
“You… the Three Rivers Fortress belongs to our—”
Before the sentence was complete, blade-light flashed.
SQUELCH!
Qian Bao’s body split down the middle — from brow to groin, perfectly bisected. Blood and viscera spilled across the floor.
“That blade…”
Jin Buhuan murmured to himself, almost in a trance.
His eyes had gone distant. Now he understood why Qin Wuyang had spoken of a demonic quality in Li Suifeng’s blade.
Will transmuted into edge. Swordsmanship touching the divine.
That single slash had brushed the threshold of the Grandmaster realm.
On the strength of that one cut alone, the man deserved the title of Blade Dao Master.
“Dump his body in the river. Frame it so the Moon Lake Strongholds won’t suspect you.” Li Suifeng’s tone was placid — as though he hadn’t been the one who’d just killed a man.
HSSS!
The Red Lotus Sect envoy and Qin Wuyang both went cold to the marrow.
Qian Bao had carried real weight in Nanzhou’s martial world. And now he was dead. Just like that.
“Do I have any other options?”
Jin Buhuan smiled bitterly.
“Yes.” Li Suifeng’s voice was mild. “You can choose to die.”
The words were soft, but the finality behind them was absolute.
Jin Buhuan knew — if he refused, a single slash would be all it took.
“Hah.” Jin Buhuan turned his head toward Qin Wuyang and the envoy.
“What about them?”
Qin Wuyang and the envoy went rigid — then bolted in opposite directions, each diving for a window.
HISS!
Blade-light flashed.
Two figures split apart mid-leap and crashed to the floor.