Chapter 146: Chapter 146
Wang Lin had joined Mei Hall at seventeen, trained for five grueling years, and enlisted in the Longxiang Army at the peak of Manifest Strength.
It was only inside the barracks that he truly understood what it meant to find a sky above the sky.
In the hall, sparring was measured. You held back three-tenths. No matter how fierce it got, it was still fellow disciples drilling forms.
The army was different.
On the training ground, every blade drew blood. On the battlefield, every blow was a killing blow.
One slip and you were done for good.
Wang Lin had seen too many hall-bred prodigies who couldn’t last ten moves against a centurion.
Himself included.
So while he’d kept an eye on this gifted junior brother, he wouldn’t say he’d taken Shen Xiuhan particularly seriously.
No amount of talent could substitute for the forge of the battlefield. A flower raised in a hothouse wouldn’t survive real weather.
Especially these past weeks, with him and Ding Ning under orders to hunt Tian Ping’an — he’d had no attention to spare.
That Tian Ping’an…
The man was slippery as an eel.
A Pathfinder Camp veteran, he was trained in reconnaissance, tracking, and ambush — a master of concealment.
After deserting, he’d stolen camp pills and broken through to Hidden Strength.
Every time Wang Lin and Ding Ning picked up a thread, the bastard would bolt like a spooked fox — one step ahead, not even a tail-tip to grab.
For half a month they’d crisscrossed the neighboring counties, sleeping in ruined temples, gnawing dry flatbread, blisters forming in their mouths — and still couldn’t catch him.
Wang Lin was grinding his teeth, ready to skin the man alive.
And then…
He’d come to this gathering today for a breath of fresh air — and the “hothouse flower” opened his mouth and made his scalp go numb.
Tian Ping’an…
Dead?
Killed by a junior brother who hadn’t even been enrolled a full year?
Wang Lin rubbed his face, staring at the manual, and despite every ounce of disbelief, let out a sigh.
“Junior Brother Shen… you’ve truly made this senior brother see you in a new light.”
He didn’t ask about the other valuables on Tian Ping’an’s body.
Because they didn’t matter.
Recovering the Dragon-Elephant Golden Body Art was all that counted.
Inside the Longxiang Army, experts who cultivated this method were beyond counting.
Four of the five colonels had trained in it.
If this art leaked to the States of Wu or Yue, and they developed countermeasures, the consequences would be catastrophic.
By comparison, the pills, weapons, and armor Tian Ping’an had stolen from the Pathfinder Camp colonel — valuable as they were — weren’t worth a ten-thousandth of this manual’s importance.
With that thought, Wang Lin raised his wine-cup, his manner solemn.
“Junior Brother, for this, your senior brother owes you a debt. I won’t forget it. If there’s ever anything you need, just say the word.”
The cup tilted forward — an earnest, heartfelt gesture.
Shen Xiuhan likewise raised his cup, touched it to Wang Lin’s, and smiled.
“Senior Brother is too kind. Helping each other out is what fellow disciples do.”
“Good!”
Wang Lin praised the words. His gaze on Shen Xiuhan warmed considerably. He tipped his head back and drained the cup.
Nearby, Xiao Wu saw that everyone had arrived. He shot Xiao Wen a look.
SWISH!
Xiao Wen rose, drew the bamboo curtain shut, and pulled the lattice window closed.
The shutters dropped. The street noise dulled to a murmur. The private room fell quiet — nothing but the sound of breathing.
Xiao Wu produced a paper ledger from his robe and spread it open on the table. The pages were dense with names and dates, the ink varying in shade.
“Brothers.”
Xiao Wu’s voice was low, his tone heavy.
“I’ve called you here today because there is a grave matter to discuss.”
He tapped the ledger.
“This was taken from the person of Bai Jixia — head of the Bai clan’s External Affairs Hall.”
Expressions around the room shifted.
Bai Jixia.
Head of the Bai clan’s External Affairs Hall. Hidden Strength at Initial Mastery, two apertures open — a genuine expert by any measure within the Bai family.
And Xiao Wu had used the word “taken.” Which meant that particular hall master’s fate had likely been… unpleasant.
Xiao Wu offered no explanation. His gaze swept across the faces, and he continued evenly.
“What’s recorded in this ledger isn’t silver transactions. It’s… living people.”
Living people?
The words fell, and the room exchanged glances — puzzlement on every face.
“Ah-Wen.”
Xiao Wu called his brother’s name.
Xiao Wen stood, drew a deep breath, and spoke in a low voice.
“Here’s what happened.”
“Ten-odd days ago, my elder brother happened to spot Bai Jing and Bai Xiu’an smuggling a group of children toward Chenjian Wu’s territory on Yunshui Lake.”
“Suspicious, he followed in secret and discovered that the Bai family was colluding with Chenjian Wu — abducting children from across the region and sending them to the fishing island… from which none of them ever returned.”
He paused. His throat bobbed. His voice dropped lower still.
“Those children… were refined into human pills.”
Human pills.
The two words fell into the room, and the air itself seemed to solidify.
An invisible frost descended over the private room. Even the candlelight seemed to dim.
Song Huatang’s lone eye flashed with cold steel. His fist clenched.
Ji Ning’s expression didn’t change, but his hand drifted unconsciously to his sword-hilt.
Han Li narrowed his eyes, his gaze settling on the ledger — deep and unreadable.
Luo Tangyin lowered her lashes, their long shadows falling across her cheeks. Whatever she was thinking remained her own.
Shen Xiuhan lifted his wine-cup and took a sip. The liquor burned down his throat. He’d known all along — but his face betrayed nothing.
It was Wang Lin whose tiger-eyes went round, his heavy brows knitting deep. His voice was grave.
“Chenjian Wu colluding with the Bai family to refine human pills… Brother Xiao, this is enormous. Are you certain?”
Xiao Wu nodded. “I saw it with my own eyes.”
Wang Lin fell silent, his face darkening by degrees — as though a layer of leaden cloud had settled over it. He picked up his wine-cup but didn’t drink, turning it slowly between his fingers.
“Half a year ago, I started noticing rumors of child snatchers spreading through the outer city wards.”
Xiao Wu rose and stood before the table, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze sweeping the room. His voice was slow and measured, as though narrating a chronicle.
“At the time, I thought nothing of it — common petty criminals, I assumed. Looking back now, the Bai family was clearly using the ‘child snatchers’ cover story to abduct those children.”
“They seized children for their refinement rituals, draining bone and blood from the living to practice demonic arts… To this day, this ledger alone — names and all — accounts for four hundred and thirty-one victims.”
Four hundred and thirty-one.
The atmosphere in the room turned to lead. Everyone was staggered by the number.
Xiao Wu paused, his gaze growing ever colder, and continued.
“According to Bai Jixia’s confession, they’ve been operating in the surrounding counties as well. The true number of victims… likely exceeds a thousand.”
Over a thousand.
Shen Xiuhan drew a deep breath, forcing down the surge of emotion.
Over a thousand children’s lives. Over a thousand shattered families.
This wasn’t a rivers-and-lakes feud. This was demonic butchery — an absolute extinction of humanity.
“I have sworn an oath to heaven: the Bai clan will be slaughtered to the last, and justice delivered for every soul that perished. And so…”
Xiao Wu’s gaze swept the room, each word falling like a hammer-blow.
“I have called you here today to uphold the righteous path and slay the wicked.”