When Wei Ji reached the Vermillion Savannah Chamber, the sll of burning incense lingered in the air, faint and bitter, almost masking the faint traces of dark energy that still clung to the walls. His eyes darted to the bed.
Lu Shaohua lay there, her breathing shallow, her delicate face twisted in pain even as she slept. She was no longer in the torn, ssy wedding dress she had been forced to wear in this earlier morning. Instead, a clean silk gown covered her body, clearly the work of Attendant Wu.
"It seems he listened to my orders very well," he muttered.
Imdiately, Wei Ji’s chest tightened. He stepped closer, sat by the bedside, and placed a hand lightly on her back. Her skin felt cold, and her chest was rising and falling unnaturally, clearly breathing uneven. His lips moved almost soundlessly as he channeled spiritual Qi into her frail body.
Slowly, the dark haze that had coiled around her form began to change. It hissed like smoke thrown into fire, thinning, fading, until it beca almost transparent and then disappeared completely.
"Good... good," he muttered under his breath, releasing the tension from his shoulders. For a mont, he simply sat there, watching her chest rise and fall, as though he were confirming she was breathing normally now.
But his relief was short-lived. He knew such disturbances may not go unnoticed. His instincts scread at him to check. He needed to make sure that no one noticed that explosion of demonic energy.
With a sharp breath, he pressed his fingers together in a swift incantation. His hand trembled slightly as he released a pulse of soundless vibration into the air, like ripples through still water. He hoped that no one noticed. After all, he ca here fast!
But then, extending his senses, Wei Ji froze.
Soone was coming.
Not just a guard. Not a servant. A cultivator. And not far—fifty steps away, closing in fast.
"A cultivator here in this minor mortal realm? Especially in the Han Family? How co?" He muttered in disbelief.
Behind that presence, Wei Ji could faintly sense the rest of the Han Family scattered throughout the estate. If this cultivator saw what had just happened, everything would collapse.
Wei Ji’s eyes snapped open, gleaming with a sharp light. He clenched his jaw, stood, and slipped from the chamber with swift, silent movents. The night wind greeted him as he erged into the courtyard.
There, atop a nearby roof, stood a man cloaked in moonlight. His robes were foreign, marked with the insignia of an outer disciple of the Four Elent Sect.
Spiritual Qi swirled thickly around his body, pressing down on the surroundings like an invisible mountain. His eyes were sharp, his tone sharper as he called out.
"You... are you a demonic cultivator?"
Wei Ji didn’t answer. His fingers moved, forming a silent incantation.
The man sneered, his voice echoing across the courtyard. "I didn’t think that the noble Han Family hides a demon among its blood. It is impossible for one to step onto the path of immortality alone without guidance. Unless... they have turned to forbidden thods. As an outer disciple of the Four Elent Sect, it is my duty to cut you down."
He lifted his hand, and the sword at his side rose into the air. It floated beside him, glowing faintly, before rising higher, gleaming coldly under the moon. His hand ford a sign, and the weapon hovered like a predator ready to strike.
Wei Ji tapped the ground with his foot. With a low hiss, green smoke erupted from beneath him, rolling out to cover the courtyard like a sudden mist. The man above chuckled arrogantly.
"Futile. Do you think smoke can save you? You are only at the third stage of Qi Refinent, and you dare resist against , sixth stage Qi Refinent Cultivator? You would be wiser to kneel. At least then you might avoid a painful death."
Hidden within the green haze, Wei Ji muttered under his breath. "Arrogant fool. Looking down on just because your realm is higher? Let show you why true experience matters more than your shallow cultivation."
From the mist, a butterfly erged. Its wings shimred like petals, glowing faintly with an unnatural aura. It fluttered gently upward, heading toward the cultivator.
The man scoffed and flicked his fingers. His sword shot forward, slashing through the butterfly. With a sharp crack, the construct exploded into fragnts of light. He drew his sword back to float beside him and sneered.
"That was your attack? A toy? You think illusions and tricks can help you bridge the gap? Laughable. Against soone of higher cultivation, you don’t stand a chance."
Suddenly, the mist seed to have changed. From the inside, Wei Ji’s figure burst forward, sprinting straight at the man’s perch.
The outer disciple’s lips curled. "Desperate charge? So you’ve run out of tricks already. Foolish. You should have tried to flee, though you’d never escape . At least you would have lived a mont longer."
He raised his hand, pointing. The floating sword darted forward, gleaming like a fang aid for Wei Ji’s chest.
But Wei Ji only smirked. His voice was low, almost mocking. "Idiot. That butterfly wasn’t ant to harm you directly. By destroying it, you sealed your own fate. Especially after you poured your Qi into your sword."
Imdiately, the man’s expression changed. His body stiffened. His eyes widened in horror.
"What... my body? Why can’t I move? What did you do!?"
Wei Ji reached him in an instant, leaping onto the roof. The outer disciple trembled, his limbs refusing to obey. His sword hovered uselessly, its glow dimming.
Wei Ji’s hand shot out, closing around his throat. The man’s eyes bulged as he choked out, "Wait! I am asking—"
Wei Ji didn’t hesitate. His grip tightened, crushing flesh and bone with brutal efficiency. The man convulsed, gasping soundlessly. Wei Ji kept squeezing, unrelenting, until the last flicker of light in his eyes died. Only then did Wei Ji release him, letting the body slump limply.
"Damn it..." Wei Ji whispered through clenched teeth. He looked down at the lifeless corpse, his heartbeat hamring in his ears.
Then he froze. Movent. Voices. Right! He almost forgot.
From a distance, several figures were approaching. mbers of the Han Family, lanterns in hand, heading straight for the Vermillion Savannah courtyard. If they saw this... if they recognized the robes of the Four Elent Sect on the dead man...
Wei Ji acted at once. He lifted the corpse and leapt from the rooftop. His feet barely made a sound as he landed behind the chamber, where shadows ran deep. He shoved the body behind a pile of stacked timber, concealing it with a loose tarp. His hands trembled slightly as he brushed the blood from his sleeves.
With long, calm strides, he circled back to the front of the chamber, forcing his breathing steady. He tilted his head back, pretending to gaze at the sky as though nothing had happened.
A mont later, the courtyard gates burst open with a loud bang.
Lantern light spilled inside, pushing back the shadows. Several n stord in, their expressions grim.
At the front stood a middle-aged man, tall and broad, his presence commanding. His features bore a clear resemblance to Wei Ji—sharp nose, dark eyes, and the sa proud bearing.
The man’s eyes narrowed when he saw Wei Ji standing there. His voice was sharp, demanding.
"Han Ji... what are you doing here?"
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