Nightwatcher

# 401. One Arm, One Artefact

Today, Three Immortals Inn, which was supposed to be bustling with people, had been cleared out.

Lingyun stood by the street, dressed in a dark sweat-stained tunic with an iron sword at his waist—a standard and ordinary jianghu outfit.

In truth, disciples from Yue Clan Manor infiltrated the town daily to gather intelligence, keeping an eye on the martial artists who had gathered here.

Today, another disciple was supposed to handle this task, but Lingyun had snatched it away. After all, this was an assignment personally entrusted by Silver Gong Xu. Anyone who dared to compete with him for it—he would fight them for it.

The person Lingyun admired the most was Silver Gong Xu.

Back in his sect, he respected the Daoist Leader and elders, or perhaps feared them, but admiration was different.

As he roamed the town, he picked up an important piece of intelligence: the Earth Sect’s demon Daoists and a mysterious imperial faction had invited the Wulin Alliance to negotiate at Three Immortals Inn.

They had forcibly cleared the premises, yet curiously, they didn’t seem to care if others eavesdropped. Onlookers were free to gather outside and listen.

_They must be plotting how to deal with Yue Clan Manor…_ Lingyun held his breath, sharpening his hearing to capture the voices from the second floor.

On the second floor, where there was a balcony, three distinct groups sat at separate tables.

One table was occupied by feather-robed Daoists, their hair meticulously groomed, eyes filled with deep malice.

Their every glance sent shivers down one's spine.

Another table seated figures cloaked in black robes with black iron masks. The leader among them wore a golden mask—these were the very people who had dragged artillery to bombard Yue Clan Manor that morning.

The third table was filled with stunning women. Among them, one stood out in particular, her face partially veiled in a fine gauze, her radiant eyes glimmering like autumn water.

Her figure, with its perfect proportions, outshone all the other women present.

“What, has the Wulin Alliance run out of men? Sending a bunch of women to negotiate?” A middle-aged Daoist with a blue lotus embroidered on his chest sneered.

Daoist Lanlian’s gaze roamed greedily over the alluring curves of the woman’s figure, making no attempt to hide his lecherous intent.

The Earth Sect’s demon Daoists were unabashedly wicked.

She was the mistress of the Wanhua Tower, Xiao Yuenu.

With a silver-boned folding fan in hand, she narrowed her eyes, her voice cool and distant. “If you have something to say, say it. If you keep staring, I’ll gouge out your eyes and pickle them in plum wine.”

Daoist Lanlian let out a derisive chuckle. Rather than being intimidated, he became even more brazen, barely stopping short of outright provocation.

“Heh, threatening these lunatics will only make things worse.” The golden-masked man let out a hoarse laugh.

He toyed with a porcelain cup filled with plum wine as he said, “Since we’ve agreed to an alliance, why did the Ink Pavilion suddenly withdraw? The Wulin Alliance owes us an explanation.”

Xiao Yuenu replied indifferently, “All sects under the Wulin Alliance are independent. The Ink Pavilion’s decision has nothing to do with us.”

Daoist Lanlian sneered. “That’s your so-called explanation?”

The Soul-stealing Hand, Rongrong, couldn’t hold back her anger. “The Wulin Alliance has its own rules. It’s not your place to interfere.”

Daoist Lanlian fixed his malicious gaze on her, staring intensely.

_Smack!_

The silver-boned fan suddenly snapped open, blocking his line of sight.

Xiao Yuenu’s action was abrupt, as if she had miscalculated and struck at empty air. However, the elder women of the Wanhua Tower keenly sensed an invisible force being deflected by their mistress.

Xiao Yuenu’s beautiful eyes widened in fury. “If the Earth Sect wants to turn against the Wulin Alliance, then I, Xiao Yuenu, will accompany you to the end.”

Daoist Lanlian snorted but withdrew his gaze.

Completely unaware that she had just brushed past death’s door, Rongrong sat in stunned silence, her face stiff. After a few seconds, she finally realised what had happened. Cold sweat drenched her back.

“Not just the Ink Pavilion. If my guess is correct, several more sects will withdraw from the struggle tomorrow,” Xiao Yuenu continued calmly.

“You should know, Silver Gong Xu has entered Yue Clan Manor. His reputation among martial artists and common folk alike is immense. The Ink Pavilion simply does not wish to make an enemy of him.”

Daoist Lanlian’s expression darkened. “I’m afraid it’s more than just avoiding enmity. I’ve heard that some in the Wulin Alliance intend to protect Xu Qi’an.”

This was the true reason the Earth Sect and the masked men had called for a meeting with the Wulin Alliance.

The golden-masked man let out a cold snort. “I hope Tower Master Xiao will pass a message to Alliance Leader Cao—he should keep his subordinates in line. Do not let a few troublemakers drag down the entire Wulin Alliance.”

Xiao Yuenu laughed mockingly. “Are you threatening the Wulin Alliance?”

Something felt off. The Earth Sect was being overly cautious about Yue Clan Manor. Even with reinforcements like Li Miaozhen and Xu Qi’an, the enemy’s advantage should still be overwhelming.

Forget the overwhelming Rank Four powerhouses. The Earth Sect’s Daoist Leader alone could likely sweep through Yue Clan Manor—even if it was just an avatar.

It seemed the Earth Sect was desperate to prevent defections and was eager to strengthen its forces.

_Could it be that Yue Clan Manor is hiding a powerful master, one so formidable that it has the Earth Sect this wary?_ Xiao Yuenu pondered.

At that moment, someone clicked their tongue and said, “Xu Qi’an alone is enough for you to waste words over?”

Accompanied by the sound of footsteps on the stairs, a white-robed, jade-belted young noble son strode into view. Behind him were two towering giants in black robes and conical hats.

Daoist Lanlian turned and scowled. “Who is this insolent fool, daring to interrupt our discussion?”

The white-robed young master narrowed his eyes and said flatly, “Left Guardian, slap him.”

The moment his words fell, the towering figure on his left vanished.

A sharp crack echoed through the tavern.

The wooden floor splintered as Daoist Lanlian’s face was smashed into it, his seven orifices bleeding.

Xiao Yuenu and the golden-masked man’s pupils constricted slightly. The former clenched her silver-boned fan, while the latter gripped his sword hilt.

The Earth Sect disciples shot to their feet, their eyes brimming with hostility toward the three newcomers.

“He’s not dead, not dead, not dead…”

The white-robed young master waved his hand dismissively, smiling. “It’s just a small punishment. My servant knows how to control his strength—no need to worry.”

Despite his friendly tone, his arrogance was unmistakable.

A man like this was either a brainless aristocratic brat or someone with absolute confidence in his strength.

The white-robed young master’s gaze landed on Xiao Yuenu, his eyes lighting up. Stroking his jade thumb ring, he strolled over leisurely.

As he passed the golden-masked man, the latter’s fingers twitched slightly, as if he was contemplating drawing his blade for a sneak attack—but in the end, he refrained.

The white-robed young master’s lips curled in a smirk—part mocking, part disdainful—as he brushed past the masked man and walked toward the table of Wanhua Tower women.

“When I arrived in Jianzhou, I had my men investigate the region’s martial scene. To be honest, the Jianghu of Jianzhou is rather dull, like a stagnant pool.

“But at the same time, it’s quite interesting—because of one place: the Wanhua Tower.”

He clicked his tongue and grinned. “I’ve long heard that Mistress Xiao Yuenu is a beauty of unparalleled grace. Seeing you now, I must say—the rumors did not do you justice.”

His following words made every woman from the Wanhua Tower furrow their brows in fury.

"Once I finish roaming the jianghu, I’ll take Mistress Xiao back with me. I happen to be short one bedwarming concubine."

Rongrong’s master abruptly stood up, her face dark with fury, and struck toward the white-robed young master’s chest, her palm surging with qi.

The white-robed young master raised his hand just enough to deflect her wrist, redirecting the powerful strike into the ceiling beams and tiles above.

Amidst the splintering wood and falling debris, he reached out, caught the enraged beauty in his arms, and clicked his tongue. “A little older, but still quite charming. I have a thing for mature women.”

Before Xiao Yuenu could make her move, he let go decisively and retreated, leaving the woman trembling with shame and rage.

“I came here to form an alliance.”

His previously exaggerated grin faded, replaced with the composed authority and steadiness of a man raised in an elite family.

“An alliance?” the golden-masked man asked.

“I want the lotus seeds. And I want Xu Qi’an’s damned life.”

The white-robed young master smirked. “You’re afraid to offend him. I am not. A barefoot man has nothing to fear from a man in shoes. Right now, I’m barefoot—I don’t care how grand his reputation is among the common folk.”

“How do you plan to do it?” The masked man seemed intrigued.

The white-robed young master said nothing. He strode over to the watchtower railing, gripped the edge, and took a deep breath, gathering his qi.

“Listen up, everyone—”

His voice rolled out like thunder, immediately drawing the attention of the onlookers gathered below, as well as the townsfolk.

He extended his left hand. “The sword case.”

The Left Guardian silently handed over a small, pitch-black rectangular case.

“Master, that man’s primordial spirit fluctuations are much stronger than an ordinary martial artist’s. He’s from Yue Clan Manor, a disciple of the Earth Sect,” the Left Guardian whispered.

Following his gaze, the white-robed young master glanced at the disguised Lingyun but chose to ignore him. Instead, he opened the case, plucked out a needle-thin miniature sword, and flicked it forward.

The small sword expanded in mid-air, growing into a three-foot azure blade before embedding itself in the stone-paved street with a crisp “ding”.

A frigid sword aura surged forth, marking it unmistakably as a magical artefact.

The white-robed young master announced, “Whoever severs one of Xu Qi’an’s arms will be rewarded with an magical artefact. Sever two arms, and you get two. Take all four limbs, and you earn four.”

As he spoke, he flicked his fingers, sending three more long swords hurtling into the street, each embedding itself in the ground in a neat row.

Every pair of eyes locked onto the four crisscrossed magical artefacts, as if iron nails had met a magnet—no one could look away.

The white-robed young master delivered the final blow: “Whoever severs Xu Qi’an’s head gets the entire box.”

The street erupted.

Meanwhile, the white-robed young master turned back and casually sat down at his table, his smirk widening at the astonished and horrified expressions of the Wanhua Tower women.

Fixing his gaze on the masked man, then glancing at the now-conscious Daoist Lanlian, he said indifferently, “Wandering cultivators value nothing more than resources. And now, I’m handing resources right to them. Tell me—will these people still respect Xu Qi’an?

“Will they still fear him? Will they still hesitate to offend him? No rogue cultivator can resist the temptation of magical artefacts. I know this. And so do you.”

Xiao Yuenu’s tone was icy. “And what do you expect to accomplish? Wandering cultivators cannot kill a warrior at the Bronze Skin and Iron Bones.”

The white-robed young master shrugged, his tone light. “Xu Qi’an once recited a poem: _I silently watched lackeys rise to power, In anger I fight on the stage once more._ That is my answer.”

_So he has a personal grudge against Xu Qi’an?_ Xiao Yuenu suddenly understood. She glanced at the Earth Sect’s Daoist Lanlian, surprised to find that he was restraining his malice and not retaliating.

It seemed the Earth Sect truly feared Yue Clan Manor.

The masked man, on the other hand, smiled. It appeared their goals aligned.

_Has one of Sir Xu’s enemies arrived? One of his subordinates alone could easily injure a Rank Four like Daoist Lanlian. He treats magical artefacts like dirt…_

Lingyun realised that this white-robed young master who had suddenly appeared in the town was a terrifying opponent.

Silently, he took several steps back, then turned and prepared to leave.

The moment he took his first step, the white-robed young master’s voice drifted down from the watchtower.

“Oh, I almost forgot—there’s something else I need to take care of. You’re a Daoist from Yue Clan Manor, aren’t you?”

Lingyun’s pupils shrank to pinpricks. Every hair on his body stood on end, and a surge of panic exploded within him.

Then, he realised—he couldn’t move.

His feet were stuck to the ground, as if an invisible force had nailed them in place.

_No, move! I have to get back! I have to warn Sir Xu! He entrusted me with this mission—I can’t betray his trust!_

Sweat poured down his face. Large beads of perspiration rolled from his forehead.

The white-robed young master suddenly appeared in front of him, smiling. “You’re trying to run back and report this, aren’t you?”

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just a wandering cultivator,” Lingyun forced out.

The white-robed young master beckoned with a casual flick of his fingers. One of the swords embedded in the ground flew into his hand.

Still smiling, he said, “I’m not stopping you from reporting back. However—”

He paused, then grinned cruelly.

“Apologies. You’ll have to crawl back.”

The sword flashed.

Lingyun’s knees buckled violently.

His lower legs separated from his body.

“AAAAHHH!!” He howled in agony, rolling on the ground, blood pooling beneath him.

The white-robed young master glanced at him. “Just a friendly reminder—if you hurry and crawl back, you might get treated before you bleed out.”

Then, raising the sword in his hand, he addressed the onlookers. “Did you all see? Genuine magical artefacts. Tomorrow, when the lotus seeds mature, everyone will have a chance to claim Xu Qi’an’s head.”

“Young Master, if the Master finds out, you’ll be punished. He has warned you not to provoke him,” the Left Guardian whispered in his mind.

“If I don’t provoke him, then what’s the point of my jianghu journey?” The white-robed young master sneered.

The purpose of this journey was to temper his martial skills, but it was also to finally meet the man who should have died at the year-end capital inspection.

Since then, he had heard endless stories about Xu Qi’an, each one making his fury boil.

The more Xu Qi’an basked in glory, the more enraged he became.

_All that prestige, all those miraculous encounters—those should have been mine._

Most importantly…

_His fortune, that should also be mine!_

…

After lunch, Xu Qi’an sat alone in a secluded courtyard, cultivating the preliminary phase of One Blade from Heaven and Earth. He focused on collapsing his qi and blood inward, merging them into a singular force.

By refining this process, he enhanced his control over his body, accelerating his Transforming Force training.

He sensed himself nearing a breakthrough—just one last step to push open the door to Rank Five.

_Something still feels missing. Hopefully, tomorrow’s battle will give me the final push…_

His ears twitched at the sound of hurried, light footsteps.

Immediately, he withdrew his qi and turned his head.

He saw the Yue Clan Manor’s Flower, Qiu Chanyi, running toward him, her face pale, eyes brimming with tears.

The moment their gazes met, tears spilled down her cheeks like broken pearls, dripping onto the ground.

Her voice trembled as she sobbed, “Master Xu… Lingyun… Lingyun is dead…”