Chapter Thirty-Five: Untitled

“Where am I?”

In a dim, damp room, Wei Mingyuan opened his eyes. But as he looked around, he found the place entirely unfamiliar—he had never been here before.

He tried to move, only to discover he was tightly bound by chains, unable to budge an inch. The entire chain was wound around a pillar, secured by a heavy lock that held him fast.

“This is bad!” Wei Mingyuan’s heart tightened. “Have I angered too many people in the ring? Did they send elders to take revenge on me?”

But on second thought, he relaxed a little. “I made quite an impression this time in the sect—I’m sure the elders took notice. If I’m kidnapped, someone will come looking for me. They wouldn’t dare do anything too drastic, at most humiliate me a bit.”

Having witnessed life and death from a young age, Wei Mingyuan regained his composure almost instantly.

Yet at that moment, a cold laugh echoed nearby. “The child’s temperament isn’t bad—most would be crying for their parents by now, but you’re different.”

At the first part, Wei Mingyuan remained unafraid. But as the voice went on, his calm unraveled.

“If you weren’t so close with that old man, I’d have taken you as my disciple.”

“Who are you?” Wei Mingyuan blurted out the question, but regretted it immediately. What was the point in asking the obvious, only wasting a precious chance to ask something useful.

He still didn’t know whom his captor intended to threaten.

“Rest assured, I won’t kill you—yet.” The voice paused, then continued, “But if that old man refuses to cooperate, I’ll have to use you to make my point.”

“You’re surely not from the outer sect. Which elder are you from within the gate?” Wei Mingyuan forced himself to remain calm, trying to keep his tone steady.

“Who would have thought this generation’s disciples would yield two with such uncommon wits? What a shame neither can be put to my use.” The voice suddenly drew near.

A powerful presence locked onto Wei Mingyuan.

Sensing imminent danger, Wei Mingyuan thrashed wildly, desperate to break free.

But in the next instant, a withered hand seized his left hand in a vice-like grip. The roughness of the grasp was like sandpaper scraping his skin.

“To make him believe I have you, I’ll need some evidence. Otherwise, he might think I’m bluffing. Heh heh!”

“Aaah!” The sinister chuckle had barely faded when Wei Mingyuan felt a pain so sharp it seemed to pierce his soul through his fingers.

“Very well, I’ll borrow your little finger for now.” With that, the sinister figure turned and left, leaving Wei Mingyuan behind, blood dripping, teeth clenched in agony.

“This won’t do. As an uninitiated disciple, how much could I matter in the elder’s eyes? I can’t place all my hope on others.”

“Ah!” Just as he tried to move, his injured left hand brushed against the pillar, and the searing pain shot through him again, blood still oozing from his missing finger.

Wei Mingyuan drew a cold breath, barely suppressing the pain. He planted his feet, summoning all his strength to stand.

But the pillar’s rough surface, and the proximity of his wounded hand to it, meant that any effort risked further injury.

“What should I do now?” Frustrated, Wei Mingyuan lashed out with his foot.

Clang! Clang!

“Hmm? That sounded like wire.” After a brief daze, Wei Mingyuan realized what he’d heard.

He immediately began trying to hook the wire with his feet in the darkness.

Elsewhere—

“You’re saying Wei Mingyuan is missing?”

“Yes, Elder Third. He hasn’t been seen since before yesterday’s heavy rain. No one at the academy has seen him. He doesn’t have any close friends either—no one can find him.”

For an ordinary disciple, the teachers wouldn’t go to such lengths. But Wei Mingyuan’s talent was exceptional, even those in higher positions valued him.

Naturally, the teacher had to make an effort—any mistake could cost him dearly. Yet the boy had vanished right under his nose; it was a heavy blow to his pride.

Seeing Dong Muming deep in thought, the academy teacher asked, “Elder Third, do you know where Wei Mingyuan is?”

Dong Muming stroked his beard and shook his head. “No, I was just reminded how someone mentioned this child to me recently, saying he had remarkable talent and perception.”

“Alright then.” Disappointed, the teacher left to continue the search.

As soon as he was gone, Dong Muming’s expression hardened. He barked at the shadows behind him, “How much longer are you going to watch from there?”

At his words, the figure in the bushes stopped hiding. With the rustle of grass and leaves, an old man with white hair and beard emerged.

He grinned at Dong Muming, his tone respectful. “As expected, senior brother’s skills are formidable. My concealment technique is useless before your spiritual sense—you have my admiration.”

“A hundred years, Xi Menghe, and you’re still the same. Speak your mind and stop beating around the bush,” Dong Muming replied with clear disdain.

“Come now, senior brother, that’s no way to talk. I’m here for a mutually beneficial deal.” As he spoke, he drew a finger from his sleeve—it was Wei Mingyuan’s.

But Dong Muming showed no sign of panic. Instead, he looked like he was suppressing laughter, and finally couldn’t help but burst out.

“Hahaha! Xi Menghe, you really do grow more muddleheaded with age.” His cold gaze pinned Xi Menghe in place. “A brat who hasn’t even knelt and acknowledged me as master, and you think you can threaten me? How laughable…”

Yet Xi Menghe’s smile never faltered.

Dong Muming stopped mocking him. He knew Xi Menghe wouldn’t try to threaten him with Wei Mingyuan alone.

Indeed, Xi Menghe’s next words piqued his interest.

“South of Mingzhou, north of Huzhu.” A wicked smile crept across Xi Menghe’s face. “Does that interest you, senior brother?”

Xi Menghe’s gaunt face twisted into a grotesque grin, like a specter risen from hell.

“What are you saying? Xiuming died in that great battle years ago—what does that have to do with you?” Though Dong Muming’s words were skeptical, his expression betrayed him.

Xi Menghe’s words were deadly precise. “My poor senior brother—such a terrible price for a disciple who meant nothing to you. If he weren’t your own son, I wouldn’t believe it.”

Back then, Dong Muming had gone to any lengths to find Xiuming. His failure to break through to the Millennium Path, to become a true master, was largely because of this.

He now stared intensely at Xi Menghe, realizing he had underestimated this old man. He had always considered him a turtle who could never attain the extraordinary realm—never a threat.

Now, he saw that Xi Menghe had been waiting for an opportunity all along. His previous avoidance had been a feint.

He had grasped many of Dong Muming’s weaknesses, but would never strike unless certain of a kill.

Now, forced to use Xiuming, it was likely because of Ming Li (Su Bai).

“Senior brother, you and I trained under the same master for over a century—does that count for nothing compared to an outsider like Ming Li?” Xi Menghe pressed closer.

He whispered in Dong Muming’s ear, “I never wanted to reveal Xiuming’s existence—he’s hidden in a most secret place, my final card. But you care so little for your current disciple, I had no choice but to use Xiuming as a bargaining chip.”

Dong Muming’s beard quivered on the edge of fury. His eyes lost their usual calm; anger overtook him entirely.

“What do you want?” he demanded in a low voice, barely restraining the urge to strike.

Xi Menghe knew better than to push too far. “Senior brother, don’t you know what I want? Let’s compromise. Hand Ming Li over to me, and I’ll take you to where I’ve hidden Xiuming. How about it?”

As soon as he made his proposal, Dong Muming retorted, “And if I give him to you, what if you refuse to bring me to Xiuming? I’d lose everything!”

“So what would you have me do, senior brother? Bring you Xiuming’s hand as proof of good faith?” Xi Menghe’s patience was clearly running thin.

“Don’t you dare! If anything happens to Xiuming, you won’t live to see another sunrise.” Dong Muming released a wave of murderous intent.

A fierce aura sent Xi Menghe’s robe billowing, a chilling wind enveloping him, yet he showed no fear.

“I’m prepared. If I don’t leave this place within half an hour, your prized disciple will be minced and delivered to you, bones and all.”

He turned to face Dong Muming, who glared back, powerless in his rage. “You have no choice. Hand Ming Li over first, then I’ll give you Xiuming. Given my character, can you not trust me?”

Dong Muming sneered, “Your character? Do you think I know nothing of your dirty dealings with the Blood River House?”

“What did you say?” Xi Menghe became instantly alert.

Dong Muming looked at him as one might a dead man. “I’d intended not to use that against you—after all, our master’s dying wish was that we never turn on each other. But since you show no mercy, I needn’t show you any loyalty.”

“What do you know?” Xi Menghe’s response was cold, as though this was all within his expectations.

Dong Muming, unsettled by his lack of surprise, thought Xi Menghe was simply feigning calm. He pressed on, “It doesn’t matter what I know. Take me to Xiuming now, or you’ll die with no grave.”

Xi Menghe’s face grew colder, but he could only sigh and force a laugh. “I never thought you’d be so shrewd. I thought I left no trace, but you still uncovered me.”

Dong Muming, still wary, urged, “Enough talk—take me to him now!”

“Very well, but what about Ming Li…” Xi Menghe feigned hesitation.

“He’s at my manor. As long as Xiuming is unharmed, I’ll hand him over when we return.” Dong Muming no longer bothered to argue, agreeing directly.

“Good! I hope you keep your word.”

Dong Muming scoffed, “You’re in no position to speak of trust. Lead the way.”

Xi Menghe showed no anger, but bowed respectfully. “Very well, let’s go. After you, senior brother.”

“Hmph!” Dong Muming, disgusted by his pretense, strode ahead.

But as Xi Menghe bent low, a sinister smile curled his lips.

Meanwhile, Su Bai lay idly on his kang bed, turning over and over.

“In the bamboo hut, at least I had books to read. Now that it’s quiet, I don’t even know what to do with myself.”

Bored, Su Bai’s thoughts drifted to Xiao Huixin, whom he had killed.

“Alas, in this world, it’s kill or be killed. Sister Xiao, you and I are both just pitiful souls struggling in the mire.”

But recalling Xiao Huixin, Su Bai made another discovery. “She said she escaped an ambush set by Su Huang and the other. And as Elder Third said, it was he who deliberately sent her down that path—the ambush was preordained. Yet Su Kun and his partner failed.”

Puzzling it over, Su Bai grew uneasy. “If I remember right, Elder Third said the two were warriors at the early marrow-refining stage, and Xiao Huixin herself admitted she was no match. As a middle bone-tempering stage martial artist, how could she have escaped their ambush?”

Recalling the moment he met Xiao Huixin—she was being chased by a tiger, yet survived. For someone in her condition, that was impossible unless…

Unless the two had deliberately let her go, driving her toward his hut.

With this realization, a chill ran through Su Bai’s heart.

“No wonder he forbade me from stepping outside—the trap was meant to kill Xiao Huixin. He just hadn’t expected me to save her and dispose of her secretly.”