Chapter 298: Throwing a Punch

Within the main hall of Flying Eagle Fortress, dozens of key members of the Huan family stood, their faces ashen, their hearts filled with despair.

Fortress Lord Huan Yang could never have imagined that the Tranquility Mountain Immortal Master, whom he had hired at great expense through a long-time friend, was the true culprit.

Four braziers stood in the corners of the hall, the pine and cypress branches within long since reduced to ashes. The Immortal Master had claimed that this main hall was a crucial location coveted by evil spirits and demons, and thus, he had gathered everyone here to perform a 'court illumination' ritual, using unique Tranquility Mountain talismans to form a ward against defilement. This, he said, would prevent the wicked outsiders from seizing their opportunity.

He further stated that only after ensuring the safety of the main hall would he venture out alone to slay demons and monsters, acting on behalf of the heavens.

Flying Eagle Fortress had, of course, agreed without hesitation.

The oppressive dark clouds outside filled their chests with unease and nausea, a clear sign of genuine demonic influence. The rough and tumble warriors of Flying Eagle Fortress were ready to face blade against foe for the sake of their family's survival, even against infamous demonic overlords from the Kingdom of Chenxiang; death would be preferable.

But to engage with ethereal entities and malevolent spirits was enough to send shivers down their spines, weakening their vital essence with fear.

Huan Yang hadn't fully trusted the Tranquility Mountain Immortal Master from the start. Despite the man's celestial bearing and the introduction from a trusted friend, Huan Yang remained cautious – a necessary trait for any influential family in the martial world. Therefore, while the Immortal Master leisurely strolled through the streets on horseback, he had secretly instructed the old steward, He Ya, to shadow him under the guise of guiding the way. The burning pine and cypress emitted a refreshing fragrance that did indeed reek of righteous Qi.

Although He Ya possessed a rudimentary understanding of Taoist arts by chance and couldn't be considered an expert, he was a seasoned veteran, having traveled extensively with Master Huan in his younger days. He confirmed that the Immortal Master's methods were indeed righteous and legitimate. Desperate, Flying Eagle Fortress finally felt a sense of reassurance.

Thus, half an hour prior, the white-robed Immortal Master had held a whisk in one hand and, with sleeves rolled up, written a series of mystic talismans on the hall's nanmu pillars. The strokes flowed smoothly, pleasing to the eye.

Even He Ya, the Flying Eagle Fortress tutor, had been present, diligently holding the vibrant vermillion inkstone for the Immortal Master.

Now, the old scholar He Ya slumped in a chair, his eyes wide with fury and bloodshot, fixed upon the white-robed man standing between Huan Yang and his wife. He yearned to drink his blood and devour his flesh.

At his age, he had long since become indifferent to worldly affairs. Having no descendants, each day he lived was a gift from the heavens. He had no fear of death, but he couldn't imagine facing the Huan family ancestors after his demise.

Those seated within the hall were mostly elderly members of the Huan clan. Advanced in years and bearing the lingering effects of the wounds sustained in the earlier alleyway brawl, their vital energy was depleted. After inhaling the pine and cypress smoke produced by the court illumination ritual, their faces turned ashen, their limbs twitched, and they would likely die without the white-robed man even lifting a finger.

The younger disciples, lacking seats, stood behind their seniors. Their martial skills were often lacking, and they collapsed to the ground. Those with slightly higher cultivation managed to sit cross-legged, circulating their inner energy to remain conscious.

The tall, white-robed man still held his snow-white whisk. With one hand gently pressing down on Fortress Lord Huan Yang's shoulder, he chuckled, "Fortress Lord Huan, no need to blame yourself, thinking you've let a wolf into the fold. My scheming against Flying Eagle Fortress is merely to save some effort. In a true battle, you martial arts heroes would hardly escape death. Decades of meticulous planning, with intention against unawareness, the mountain's designs upon those below… who else would die but you?"

The lady beside Huan Yang trembled. Within the hall, only her complexion appeared unaffected, seemingly unharmed by the smoke. But she was clearly terrified out of her wits. After all, she was a native of Flying Eagle Fortress, preferring tranquility to activity. Aside from occasional spring and autumn outings, she had never ventured more than a hundred *li* from Flying Eagle Fortress in her life. How could she endure such turmoil?

The tall man raised his hand from Huan Yang's shoulder and gently pinched the woman's cheek, his movements tender and filled with affection.

It wasn't the lustful gaze of a man coveting beauty, but rather the gaze of an artisan admiring his greatest masterpiece.

Reluctantly withdrawing his hand, he smiled, "Fortunately, that inexplicable skirmish didn't involve Flying Eagle Fortress. If the plan had been discovered by those with malicious intent, then we would have truly suffered a great loss. According to the original plan, you could have enjoyed another half-year of peace, but my master feared those fellow cultivators who are constantly engaged in life-and-death battles. What if they were to attract the attention of the Spirit Writing Sect? That would be disastrous! So, upon receiving the secret message, I immediately came."

No one in the hall could speak, so the Immortal Master found the situation rather uninteresting. Without an audience, it was somewhat lacking.

The tall man glanced at the assembled crowd, scoffing, "Are you harboring hope that the old Taoist and his young disciple can save you? I advise you to abandon that thought. A rogue cultivator at the Fifth Realm? It would be sheer luck if I didn't kill him with a single slap. The only reason I haven't touched them is because the qi and spiritual energy of the master and disciple might still have some ornamental use."

He regretted not adding more secret ingredients to the pine and cypress branches. A room full of mutes, not even a curse, let alone begging for mercy… how utterly boring.

Before his master could act and with the situation firmly in his grasp, he wanted some amusement. He scanned the surroundings and his gaze finally landed on a woman who was using her inner energy to resist the drug. He hadn't noticed it before, but such a delicate woman was actually a well-hidden Fourth Realm martial artist. It was truly rare for a woman to achieve such a level of martial cultivation.

He slowly walked forward, crouched down, and pinched her chin. The woman's face was resolute, her eyes sharp.

He smiled slightly, withdrew an exquisite, gleaming porcelain bottle from his sleeve, and turned his head, catching sight of a young man resembling the woman. Weak and frail, he had already collapsed to the ground, his limbs twitching, his eyes rolled back, foaming at the mouth, nearing death.The man's eyes lit up. "Interesting! He actually possesses some aptitude for cultivation. If he were tossed into a third-rate sect, he might even become a favored disciple." Since he was idle, he might as well lend a hand. Whether this kid succeeded or not, and whether he could survive to become an outer disciple of his sect, would depend on his own luck.

However, before that, whether the youth lived or died, he had a carnal pleasure to enjoy, and everyone else in the hall would get a good show.

The man, disguised as a cultivator from Mount Taiping, extended a finger and touched the boy's brow. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he drew out a wisp of foul, greenish smoke, condensed it into a sphere, and with a light flick of his finger, dispersed the smoke into the hall.

The handsome youth immediately regained consciousness. Just as he was about to say something, the man slapped a scarlet pill into his mouth.

He tossed the youth into the center of the hall and then, with a wave of his horsetail whisk, dispelled the pure Zhen Qi that the woman was using to barely resist the poisonous mist of pine and cypress. He then levitated her to the youth's side.

The man smiled slyly. "You see, we heretical sects can't compare to those stable, step-by-step orthodox sects. Some of our methods are not only unorthodox and contrary to worldly etiquette, but, most hatefully, our ultimate achievements are limited. Even touching the threshold of the Golden Core Realm is a pipe dream."

At this, the man seemed filled with resentment. He then smiled and said to the youth, "But don't look down on the Sea Gazing and Dragon Gate stages. Little one, you've consumed my wondrous Nan Ke Pill. Your mind is now relaxed, a rare feeling of ascension, but one of your seven emotions and six desires will be amplified without limit. This is also our sect's secret. As for which emotion or desire, the Nan Ke Pill has a corresponding effect. The one I bestowed upon you is the most precious. Don't waste it. As long as you maintain a sliver of clarity from beginning to end, and just indulge in pleasure, if you survive to the end, I'll take you as my disciple. Your early path of cultivation will be smooth, and you might even have a chance to reach the Middle Five Realms."

The woman panicked, but her body was paralyzed. Finally, she showed a hint of despair and fear.

The man tempted the youth, saying, "Don't worry, everyone in the hall will die, so you don't need to have any scruples. Heaven is impartial, where does cultivation come from with morals..."

The tall man's heart jolted, and he suddenly raised his head, clutching his horsetail whisk, as if facing a great enemy.

He saw someone yawning lazily above the crossbeam. He looked down at the heretical cultivator and took out a bamboo fan from his sleeve, fanning it gently. "You're quite bored, aren't you? So fond of talking to yourself?"

It was Lu Tai.

The man narrowed his eyes. "Friend, are you and the sword-carrying boy just passing by to watch the show, or are you here to spoil things? Or, were you two, back at the mountain outside the Eagle Fort, part of the scheme?"

Lu Tai glanced at the lust-filled youth on the ground and tutted repeatedly, his face full of disgust. "Do you think it's all because of that harmful pill? I might as well tell you the truth: at least thirty or forty percent of your lust is coming from your own heart. You, ah, no wonder you were picked out by this guy. You were never a good thing to begin with."

The youth, whose hand was almost touching the woman's knee, began to struggle. His heart and body were at odds, causing blood to seep from his orifices - black blood, covering his face and rolling on the ground.

The tall man remained unmoved, only regretting the pill. After the "Rafter Gentleman" revealed the truth, the youth's fragile Dao heart shattered.

If no one had pointed out the truth, and the youth had been able to follow the dark path, it would have been a way out. He might have even become the man's personal disciple and embarked on the path of cultivation.

Lu Tai's expression was indifferent. He pinched two fingers together and lightly swiped downwards.

His Natal Flying Sword, named Needle Tip, pierced through the air, heading straight for the suffering youth.

The woman spat out a mouthful of blood and shouted to Lu Tai, "Don't!"

The flying sword Needle Tip, with its tip only an inch from the youth's neck, suddenly stopped.

Lu Tai looked at the tearful woman and said, "He'll be more comfortable if he dies. If he walks out of here alive today, either he'll harden his heart and kill you, then fall into depravity again, or he'll be stifled to death by other people's words in the years to come."

The woman just shook her head, repeating, "Please, Immortal Master, don't kill him. Please don't kill him..."

The man held his horsetail whisk and asked with a smile, "I'm curious, how did you sneak into this formation so silently?"

Lu Tai held the fan in one hand and leaned on the crossbeam with the other, laughing. "When it comes to formations, there seems to be nothing more powerful than my family's ancestral art. Isn't that annoying?"

The man laughed loudly, but the laughter stopped abruptly. He instantly began to move, the snow-white horsetail whisk engraved with the characters "Banish Worry" in his hand creating gusts of wind and thunder as it flew through the air. Each time he waved the whisk, a thread made from the tail whiskers of some mountain spirit beast would detach from the whisk and shoot towards Lu Tai on the crossbeam.

The horsetail whisk threads transformed into white snakes as thick as arms in mid-air, with a pair of wings, emanating a chill, moving as fast as lightning.

Lu Tai completely ignored the dozens of white snakes. With a snap, he closed his bamboo fan and began to use it as a brush, writing and drawing symbols on the crossbeam. Under the "brush tip" at the top of the bamboo fan, ancient and simple silver characters and patterns flowed out, and then those lifelike characters began to flow along the crossbeam, pillars, and ground, infiltrating and covering the original Dan Shu talismans.

Usurping the host's position.

And the white snake threads that left the horsetail whisk would turn into dust as soon as they approached Lu Tai within six feet.

The man couldn't understand what kind of Daoist secret art this was, which was the scariest thing.

But something even scarier happened. The Qing Shan-clad young master, who was more beautiful than a woman, revealed the secret himself, smiling, "I just set up a small array around here, the kind that Blessed Lands often have, that can block all external techniques, and make the one inside a saint. Sounds impressive, doesn't it?"The man's heart surged with emotions. He hesitated for a moment, then stopped waving his horsetail whisk, leaning it heavily on his arm. "Esteemed Immortal Master, not only is your lineage profound, but your abilities are vast and your divine powers are boundless. I am in awe! If you are willing to show mercy, my master and I are prepared to offer ample sincerity. For example, all the hidden treasures of this Flying Eagle Stronghold will belong to you two. I can even, on my own authority, offer a private reward and later ask my master for a top-grade spiritual artifact. What do you think, Immortal Master?"

Lu Tai replied irrelevantly, "Is your master a Golden Core cultivator?"

The man smiled and nodded. "To show my sincerity, I am willing to reveal my master's esteemed title. He is the one who slew two Dragon Gate realm cultivators from太平山 (Taiping Mountain) back then..."

Lu Tai quickly waved his hand and said, "Hold on, hold on! You are too cunning!"

The man looked innocent. "Why do you say that, Immortal Master?"

Lu Tai sighed. "A puny Golden Core rogue cultivator from桐叶洲 (Tongye Continent), brought out by a Seaview realm like you to bully people? It won't scare me, but it's hilarious. You almost succeeded."

Then Lu Tai burst into laughter.

Of course, whether the mastermind truly possessed Golden Core cultivation was another matter.

The man's face turned grim.

*Damn it,* he thought, *I've met a madman.*

The key was that this androgynous fellow had unfathomable cultivation, the kind that was bottomless.

Lu Tai collected his smile, even wiping his eyes, as if truly amused. "Besides you and your master, who are raising that ghost infant, are there any other powerful allies?"

The man was deeply shocked and said with a bitter smile, "Such a heinous act, the common folk may think扶乩宗 (Fuji Sect) is a thousand miles away, a great distance, but in our eyes, it's not that far. Do you think only two people would dare to set up such a grand scheme? Could control this plan?"

Lu Tai said, "Oh? It seems you and your master wanted to monopolize the rewards."

The man feigned composure, but he was cursing inwardly.

Lu Tai teased, "Isn't it awkward? The rewards I want, you simply can't afford. But fighting us two outsiders to the death could ruin decades of painstaking efforts?"

Exposed, the man's face was filled with murderous intent. "Are you really determined to interfere, not afraid of mutual destruction?!"

The man's chest swelled with anger. "It's true, as you said, my master and I cannot give you two sufficient benefits. But then again, what benefit do you gain by interfering? The ghost infant was nurtured by my master with a unique secret method, one of a kind in the world. Moreover, the ghost infant is already bound to its master. Even if you were to snatch it away by chance, could you keep it alive?!"

Lu Tai twirled his bamboo fan, tapping the beam with its end, relaxed and content. "Am I not allowed to do a righteous deed?"

The man almost exploded with rage, his lips trembling. If not for the scheming woman present, any damage would affect the ghost infant's growth after birth, and ruin his master's grand plan for the future. If not for these considerations, he would have truly risked everything in a desperate fight with this fellow.

Lu Tai added fuel to the fire. "Now, isn't it less boring? How will you thank me?"

This time, the man turned ashen, not much better than the Flying Eagle Stronghold people who had been poisoned by阴毒 (Yin poison).

Lu Tai suddenly lost interest in chatting. He closed his bamboo fan and poured out a handful of snow-white pills from his sleeve, throwing them into the burning pine and cypress braziers. The horsetail whisk man wanted to stop him, but the exaggeratedly large flying sword appeared again, descending from the sky repeatedly. After plunging into the ground, it would float back into the air, making it difficult to dodge.

Then, true killing intent flashed.

The horsetail whisk man almost fell victim, and with a roar, he was left only with the "Carefree" long handle of his whisk. All the snow-white strands fell off, turning into countless winged white serpents, rapidly spinning and buzzing, piercing the eardrums, densely guarding him.

The man touched his cheek, where a deep, bone-deep gash had been cut. If he hadn't turned his head quickly enough, he would have been pierced through the skull by the sword.

Two Natal Swords!

He was also proficient in formations!

And boastfully claimed that his family's formations were unparalleled!

Lu Tai sneered. "Walking into the trap, you can't blame anyone else."

Above the main pillar, the silver runes shone brightly, then interlocked, weaving the hall into a net.

The fishing line of this net was precisely those suspended words and patterns.

Within the net, besides the man who had inadvertently trapped himself, were Lu Tai's Needle Tip and Wheat awn, his two Natal Swords.

Lu Tai floated down from the beam, ignoring the cage, and walked towards the pale-faced Lady of the Stronghold. Her eyes were vacant, and she was drenched in sweat. The seat she occupied emitted a faint, fishy odor.

Passing by the woman in the center of the hall, this woman who had secretly reached the Fourth Realm of Martial Cultivation had regained control of her limbs, holding the withered and dazed young man in her arms.

After Lu Tai threw the beads into the brazier, a cloud of snow-white powder rose, dissipating in all directions. After the Flying Eagle Stronghold's Huan family, old and young, inhaled it, they gradually regained their rosy complexions. However, while everyone's bodies were unharmed, their souls were greatly damaged, and their lifespan was inevitably shortened.

The woman suddenly turned around, fiercely questioning Lu Tai's back, "Why did you say those things? You are also a culprit!"

Lu Tai turned his head, looked at her, and asked with a smile, "Or should I just eliminate you two now, once and for all, without worry?"

The woman hugged the young man, quickly lowered her head, and dared not look at Lu Tai again.

Lu Tai walked to the Lady of the Stronghold, put his hands behind his back, and looked down at her. "Your life essence is almost depleted. You're going to die either way. Now it depends on whether you choose to die a worthy death or be eliminated for the sake of the people."

In Lu Tai's eyes, the woman's seemingly beautiful face was already shattered, with ravines and gullies, seeping out wisps of black death energy. Her eyes, which would be considered vibrant and lustrous by ordinary mortals, were pitch black.

This pampered woman was ignorant and unresponsive.

Lu Tai smiled. "Stop pretending. I know you've regained your senses. While you're still lucid, while you still have the energy to make your own choice, I will respect your wishes. After half an incense stick, you will be out of control. Then I won't be polite with you."

Huan Yang was about to get up and speak, but Lu Tai waved his sleeve, instantly sealing his five senses. He sat obediently in place like a puppet, but his eyes were full of pain and pleading.The woman slowly raised her head, murmuring, "Can I not die?"

Lu Tai sighed, finding himself speechless for a moment.

After a long silence, Lu Tai turned to face the main gate, leaning against the chair the woman sat on, and said softly, "Then live a little longer."

Outside the main building of the Flying Eagle Fortress.

The slovenly old man watched helplessly as those roosters that ate glutinous rice and drank clear spring water died one by one.

Today, Huan Chang and Huan Shu had coincidentally followed the Daoist Huang Shang and Tao Xieyang, for the siblings were unwilling to hide in the "comfort nest" of the main building, unwilling to cower under the protection of the "Immortal Master of Taiping Mountain." Since the old man was still out and about, they wanted to lend a hand.

The old man looked up at the ever-descending black sea of clouds, gritted his teeth, and resorted to his trump card. He took out two large white bowls, one in each hand, and turned to the siblings, saying, "I need to borrow a few taels of your fresh blood to move the two stone lions at the entrance of your Huan clan's ancestral hall. These are things your grandfather obtained from an expert back in the day, the Flying Eagle Fortress's true secret weapon."

The old man raised his hands, and said in a deep voice, "Quickly, then we must hurry to the ancestral hall! We can't delay!"

Huan Chang and Huan Shu exchanged a look, then resolutely drew their blades and cut open their palms, allowing the blood to flow into the old Daoist's white bowls.

With a flick of the old man's wrist, the two white bowls vanished into thin air. "There may be vengeful spirits and ghostly creatures obstructing us along the way. I may not be able to look after you. You four must fend for yourselves, and may even need to clear the path for me. Even if you die, no one will collect your corpses, so decide now whether you want to go or not."

The two siblings and their two friends nodded in unison.

The old man gave a light shout, "Go!"

As the old Daoist had predicted, the hidden, lurking Yin creatures throughout the Flying Eagle Fortress, as if having discerned the old Daoist's intent, finally stopped concealing themselves and surged forth.

A white-robed youth abruptly appeared on a rooftop, standing on the crest of a turned-up eave, gazing into the distance, in the direction of the old Daoist and his party as they leapt onto the rooftops and hurried toward the ancestral hall.

Chen Ping'an pinched a talisman between the fingertips of each hand, gently released them, and silently intoned, "First day, fifteenth day!"

Two streaks of sword light, carrying the two talismans, flew swiftly to the Huan family ancestral hall, instantly pinning the demon-suppressing talismans onto two pillars.

Two brilliant golden lights exploded from the pillars.

Afterward, the two streams of light returned to Chen Ping'an's side, and two more yellow paper talismans were taken to two rooftops not far ahead of the old Daoist.

On the final trip back and forth, First Day and Fifteenth Day carried two more demon-suppressing talismans to help the slovenly old man clear the way.

Chen Ping'an had used up all his demon-suppressing talismans and no longer concerned himself with the happenings at the ancestral hall.

When traveling the pugilistic world, vanquishing demons and subduing evil, life and death are your own responsibility.

It is so when doing evil, and so too when doing good.

The black clouds above were about to press down on the city.

It felt as if the sky was lowering, making it feel within reach, and a few loud words from the marketplace could startle the immortals in the heavens.

Chen Ping'an looked up.

The martial artists of the Flying Eagle Fortress could not see the scene above the black clouds, but he could.

An unfathomable old man in a tall hat sat cross-legged on a red cushion, chanting incantations, controlling this black sea of clouds that just covered the Flying Eagle Fortress, descending bit by bit to the mortal realm. The time had come for the old man to cleanse the Flying Eagle Fortress with blood, drawing all flesh and essence to feed the newborn ghost infant about to break out from within his heart.

Chen Ping'an began to touch the rooftops lightly, his figure flashing and disappearing. He moved with extreme speed, his white robe stretching out like a snowy white rainbow.

He finally landed in the martial arts training ground of the Flying Eagle Fortress, which was empty save for him.

Chen Ping'an gently stomped his foot and took a deep breath.

He slightly crouched his knees, slowly adopting a majestic and ancient-style boxing stance.

The Cloud Rising from the Great Marsh Stance.

The golden ritual robe that Chen Ping'an wore, disguised by an illusion technique, now revealed its true form.

A golden long robe, with dragons swimming upon it.

Chen Ping'an closed his eyes, and the pure true energy within his body, using the circulation method of the Eighteen Sword Halts Qi, flowed rapidly, like the waters of a great river rushing into the sea.

Chen Ping'an suddenly opened his eyes, and with a raised foot, heavily stomped the ground.

Not only did the entire martial arts training ground shake violently, with countless weapons falling from the wooden racks, but the surrounding streets almost simultaneously stirred with dust.

A punch was first delivered skyward.

After which, punches were delivered one after another.

It was the Cloud Rising from the Great Marsh Stance, but the intent of the punches was that of the Divine Man Drumming!

The old man named Cui in the bamboo tower had never taught Chen Ping'an such boxing.

Chen Ping'an threw punches again and again, stomping his feet each time to borrow strength.

The earth trembled, rumbling and roaring, as if a great earthworm had turned over.

The old man had said that upon comprehending the Cloud Rising from the Great Marsh Stance, the first time this fist was shown to the world, it caused the rain curtain in the sky to retreat a hundred zhang, not daring to touch the mortal realm.

Chen Ping'an didn't think too much, he just wanted the surging sea of clouds at this moment, like the heavy rain curtain above the old man's head in the past, to be no different, to roll back to the sky before my fists!

Unknowingly, there was no one in front of him.