After I Am died, You Tell Me This Is A Life Simulation? Chapter 47 - Who’d Risk Their Life for That?

Chapter 47: Who’d Risk Their Life for That?

Affairs of vengeance and bloodshed were nothing new in the jianghu.

And the martial artists present to observe at Jianhu Palace were, in truth, all on good terms with the Wuliang Sword Sect.

If it were a trivial matter, sothing they could lend a hand with casually—they wouldn’t mind helping.

But now, seeing Fang Han slaughtering his way through the crowd—they all fell silent, simply watching the developnt unfold.

It wasn’t that they didn’t want to help. They couldn’t help!

What—were they supposed to throw their lives away for the Wuliang Sword Sect?

They were just here for appearances, maybe share so polite greetings—*who the hell wants to die over this?*¹

In fact, if Fang Han hadn’t said what he did earlier, the crowd—panicked and angry—might have grouped together to strike.

But Fang Han had stated clearly: he ca only to settle old grievances.

With that, anyone with half a brain could see the opportunity to take the step back.

Since it was a personal vendetta, outsiders naturally had no business interfering.

This was quite normal.

As the martial artists looked away, Xin Shuangqing of the Wuliang Sect’s West Branch shifted her expression multiple tis—then finally summoned her disciples back, clearly unwilling to get further involved.

They weren’t fools either. Knowing Fang Han was dangerous—how could they dare act rashly?

So, one after another, everyone’s gazes turned to the East Branch disciples of the Wuliang Sect.

This caused the East Branch disciples to avert their eyes, cheeks reddening with sha.

Logically, since their master and fellow disciples had been killed, they should be seeking revenge.

But the problem was…

Zuo Zimu, the sect leader, was dead. The strongest disciples—Yu Guangbiao and Gong Guangjie—were dead too.

What remained were a bunch of scattered weaklings with shallow inner strength and clumsy swordplay.

How were they supposed to resist this man?

It wasn’t even a matter of whether they could win—it was clear they couldn’t.

They’d be marching straight to their deaths.

Who the hell would go up there!?

So of them even began harboring resentnt—

Deep resentnt toward Zuo Zimu, Gong Guangjie, and Yu Guangbiao.

Of all people to provoke, why did you have to ss with this bringer of doom?

And now we’re all dragged into it, with brothers dying left and right for no reason at all.

How’s that supposed to be good? That’s just awful!

Cheng Lingsu watched Fang Han intimidate two to three hundred people single-handedly.

Her eyes sparkled with admiration, and the corners of her lips curled slightly.

She quietly tucked the object in her hand back into her sleeve.

A faint smile appeared on her elegant face.

My husband is amazing~

Beside her, the little girl’s eyes glittered as she looked at Fang Han.

She also stowed away the small pouch hanging from her waist, full of admiration.

This big brother is so cool~

Seeing that no one dared speak, she suddenly let out a crisp laugh.

The sound was soft and clear, making everyone’s heart flutter.

The East Branch disciples turned beet red in embarrassnt.

What a disgrace—to be mocked by a little girl!

But none of them dared bark back. They simply remained silent.

Neither agreeing nor refusing.

This was their last bit of stubborn dignity…

“Amitabha! Amitabha! Such sin! Such sin!”

Suddenly, a young man’s voice rang out.

It was Duan Yu, face pale, hands clasped in prayer, eyes shut, murmuring passages from the scripture of rebirth.

The crowd all shook their heads.

They knew this young man was a bit touched in the head.

They gave him a brief glance and ignored him.

Instead, all eyes returned to that man—to see how he would proceed.

Fang Han, naturally, paid no mind to Duan Yu’s mutterings.

He turned to the Wuliang disciples and gave a gentle nod. “Since that’s the case—let this matter end here.”

Indeed, his martial arts were much stronger than before.

But to take on over two hundred—maybe even three hundred—people at once?

Still far too dangerous.

Sure, if he wanted to leave, no one could stop him.

But if he really stood and fought—even with Lingbo Weibu—it would be extrely perilous. Facing blades and swords from all directions, even a small misstep could an injury or death.

Yes, he had overwheld and slain Zuo Zimu and killed over a dozen disciples.

But he wasn’t arrogant to the point of thinking himself invincible.

More importantly—there was no need for that.

He’d already killed those with real enmity toward him in the Wuliang Sect.

The rest—people he didn’t even know—Fang Han had no interest in hunting down.

He wasn’t so bloodthirsty murderer.

Just because a few Wuliang mbers hated him—was he supposed to slaughter the whole sect?

Who had that kind of bloodlust?

If he were truly like that, he would never have beco a physician.

As for the dozen who’d died earlier…

Hah. Once swords are drawn—you’re the enemy.

Life or death is fate. It’s either you or . Fang Han would never show rcy.

He understood that clearly.

Once he finished speaking, he turned and walked toward Cheng Lingsu.

After a few steps, he suddenly stopped and turned back. “If trouble arises again in the future, it won’t be handled so kindly! You would do well to rember—I won’t say I didn’t warn you!”

His aning was clear:

I’m willing to let things go today—but don’t think you can play gas. If you try to retaliate, next ti, I won’t be so gentle.

If you push , I’ll unleash poison—and your ashes will be scattered to the wind!

This was a warning.

The crowd had just relaxed—but when he suddenly turned back and spoke, they all jolted in fear.

Hearing his words, their faces turned red.

He overestimates us!

Revenge…? Us…?

Is he joking!?

He’s giving us too much credit…

Of course, no one dared say that aloud.

They just glanced awkwardly at each other, eyes wandering.

Silently acknowledging it.

Just when everyone thought the matter had ended—suddenly, a man stumbled in from outside.

Blood covered his body. He staggered a few steps—then collapsed.

He startled the nearby East Branch disciples.

They rushed over and lifted him up. Then ca a startled cry: “It’s Uncle Rong!”

This man was Zuo Zimu’s junior martial brother—second only in martial strength among the East Branch!

But now, for so reason, he was gravely injured—on the verge of death.

The crowd erupted in chaos.

Their sect leader was dead.

Their strongest disciples were dead.

And now even Uncle Rong—

The East Branch was dood to decline!

Xin Shuangqing from the West Branch hurried over. Seeing Rong Ziju’s blackened face and purplish lips—she gasped. “Poisoned!?”

There seed to be blood on his chest.

She quickly called a disciple to open his clothes.

But just as the disciple tried to help Rong Ziju—before he could even act—the man tilted his head.

He’d stopped breathing.

Xin Shuangqing’s brow twitched violently.

Ignoring propriety, she tore open his robes—revealing multiple toxin marks across his skin.

Etched in blood upon his chest were the characters:

“Shennong Gang shall eradicate the Wuliang Sword Sect!”

Her expression changed drastically.

She had heard of the Shennong Gang—another martial sect in the Wuliang Mountain region.

They had always avoided interacting with the Wuliang Sect. Why suddenly declare war!?

She instinctively looked toward Fang Han.

This man suddenly appeared today, claid enmity with Zuo Zimu, and killed him. Could it be…?

But the next mont, she shook her head.

It doesn’t add up.

If the Shennong Gang had soone this powerful—they’d already be famous across Wuliang. They’d have attacked with numbers—why send a lone man to face two hundred disciples?

The tension mounted on one side—but on Fang Han’s side, it was relaxed.

He casually walked up to Cheng Lingsu.

Miss Cheng took out a handkerchief and wiped the blood from his face.

The two of them, acting as if no one else existed, drew glances from the little girl nearby.

Her eyes shimred. Her cheeks blushed slightly.

After a mont, Fang Han looked to the little girl and smiled. “Thank you for helping just now.”

Those snakes hadn’t exactly turned the tide—but the gesture still mattered.

The little girl grinned sweetly, full of innocent charm. “I should be thanking you, big brother~ You saved Ling’er just now!”

If she’d fallen head-first at that mont—it’d be too scary to even think about.

Smiling like a flower, she looked at both Fang Han and Cheng Lingsu, then introduced herself:

Her surna was Zhong. Pet na, Ling’er.

Zhong Ling chirped: “My papa and mama both call that. Sister, big brother—you can just call Ling’er~”

🍃🍃🍃

📌 Footnotes:

玩什么命啊 (wán shén mìng a)

Literal: “Why risk your life for that?”

aning: Colloquial expression to mock the idea of sacrificing oneself for sothing not worth it. Often used to show disdain or refusal to get involved in sothing dangerous without benefit.

尔等切记！勿谓言之不预！(ěr děng qiè jì! wù wèi yán zhī bù yù!)

Literal: “You all take heed! Do not say you weren’t warned!”

aning: A formal, almost archaic phrase often used to deliver a warning. Made famous by pre-war proclamations in Chinese history.

灵儿 (Líng’er)

Explanation: A common pet na/diminutive in Chinese for a young girl. The ‘儿’ (er) suffix adds a sense of affection and youth.