As the sky began to lighten, Mu Yun arrived outside the inn, travel-worn and weary.
The main door stood slightly ajar. Inside, an eerie silence prevailed. Only a wind chime hanging beneath the dilapidated eaves swayed gently in the breeze, emitting a mournful, pitying sound.
Mu Yun's heart sank.
Had he not fled from this place several hours earlier, anyone else arriving now would likely assume the inn had been abandoned for a long time.
After observing for a moment and seeing no one coming or going, Mu Yun used the terrain for cover and approached the inn from the side.
"Everyone… is gone?"
Inside, a chilling stillness prevailed. Mu Yun stood in the main hall, looking around.
As far as he could see, aside from a few broken tables and chairs, there were no obvious signs of fighting. There was no blood on the floor—an eerie detail.
Cautiously, Mu Yun made his way to the second floor. As he entered a room, he spotted a man dressed in the same close-fitting black robes as the Zhong brothers, lounging lazily on a higher platform, a faint smile playing on his lips.
He was a martial arts expert at the late stage of Body Refining.
"I never imagined that a mere mid-stage Body Refining boy could escape the Zhong brothers and have the nerve to return here…"
As he spoke, the man looked Mu Yun over. When his eyes fell upon the steel blade in Mu Yun's hand, his smile froze. His expression shifted to one of stunned disbelief.
"You killed them?"
Mu Yun's expression was cold. Instead of answering, he said, "Why did the Yinsu Sect come here to slaughter innocent mortals?"
A sharp glint flashed in the man's eyes. "You know our sect's name? Which sect do you belong to, then? Since you're a fellow cultivator, you must know how the Yinsu Sect operates."
"Yinsu Sect? A small, unknown sect. I've never heard of it," Mu Yun said, pretending to think for a moment before shaking his head earnestly.
"You…" The man was so angry he laughed, believing Mu Yun was mocking him.
"Among the sects in this region, who doesn't give way when the Yinsu Sect is mentioned? Not to mention killing a few mortals—even if we hunted down disciples from some minor sect, who would dare seek revenge?"
"Could you be from the Huayang Sect?" the man muttered to himself, puzzled. But after a moment, murderous intent returned to his eyes. "The master ordered me to stay here and wait for the Zhong brothers to return, so we could report together. Since the Zhong brothers died at this thief's hands, no matter which sect he belongs to, I'll capture him first."
"Even if he is from the Huayang Sect, the Yinsu Sect has never feared them."
With that, the man let out a roar and lunged at Mu Yun.
Seeing the killing intent, Mu Yun did not rush to meet the attack. With a flick of his wrist, a flash of white light swept past, cutting through a beam in the room. Then, with a light push of his toes, his body leaped backward.
The beam, now severed, gave way, and the roof collapsed in a thunderous crash.
The man, who had been charging fiercely, had his momentum halted by the sudden collapse, his movement briefly checked.
But he was, after all, a martial artist at the late stage of Body Refining. After that brief pause, he poured even more strength into his legs, launching himself forward like a cannonball. His right arm, charged with immense force, swung like a massive hammer.
With that explosive push and punch, the man burst forth from the collapsing structure like a maddened bull. Shards of wood flew in all directions. Aside from that momentary pause, the collapsing roof seemed to have had no effect on him whatsoever.
Mu Yun, retreating backward, showed no change in expression.
He took a deep breath, and as his feet touched the ground, he grabbed a large rock and hurled it at the man.
Just as the man emerged from the collapsed building, the sky seemed to darken—a massive boulder was already before him. With no time to think, he threw himself to the side, narrowly dodging it. From the corner of his eye, he saw the boulder crash into the ground, leaving a deep crater.
"What kind of strength is this? Is he really a mid-stage Body Refining martial artist?" The man's shock was mixed with a sudden surge of pain. A second stone, smaller than the first, had struck him.
The man in black felt a wrenching pain throughout his body as the rock knocked him down. Then, stones of various sizes came flying one after another, dense as a rain of hail.
"Wretched thief!" the man cursed through gritted teeth. Apart from the first stone that hit him, the others had not caused any real harm. But as he struggled to rise, a cold white blade came to rest against his neck—Mu Yun had somehow reached him.
"You only have one chance."
"Speak. Why did the Yinsu Sect come here? Who is the 'master' you speak of?"
The man's expression flickered uncertainly. After a moment, he spoke: "We follow the master's orders. We came here over a year ago. As for the purpose—I've never known. As for the master's background, it's not something we can know. All I know is that the master is one step away from shedding his mortal body and becoming a true cultivator."
"Oh? Peak Qi Refining?" Mu Yun's heart tightened. He had not expected that the young man, who appeared to be around his own age, was actually a Qi Refining expert—perhaps even at the Kaiyang Realm, the highest level of Qi Refining. It was said that such experts were no longer considered ordinary martial artists and could wield certain immortal techniques.
Mu Yun pressed on, his voice steady: "What about the others at the inn? Where did your group go?"
"The people here displeased the master. They were all killed."
Mu Yun's heart trembled. "The innkeeper's family too?"
"What, were they connected to you?" Though subdued, the man in black had been watching Mu Yun's expression closely. Seeing Mu Yun's composure waver, he suddenly roared, sidestepping out of Mu Yun's reach. Bracing one hand on the ground, he kicked both feet toward Mu Yun.
In that moment of distraction, Mu Yun's mind flashed with memories of himself and Old Man Zhu stopping at the inn, talking with the innkeeper.
The innkeeper had a young granddaughter, around Mu Yun's age. Whenever he and Old Man Zhu stopped for a drink of water, the little girl would always giggle and call him "Brother Yun." Though they had only met a few times, hearing of their deaths now brought those memories flooding back, and for an instant, his mind went blank.
The kick struck Mu Yun, sending him flying several zhang with tremendous force. Though he immediately rose, a sharp pain stabbed at his left side—several ribs were likely broken.
"Heh heh… the waiter was inattentive—kill!"
"The cook's dishes were poor—kill!"
"The guests were spineless—kill!"
"Those few constables were like mayflies trying to shake a tree—kill!"
"Oh, and there was a young girl in the inn, quite pretty. If she had submitted to the master, she wouldn't have died. She might have even risen to great fortune. But she refused to the death. The old innkeeper tried to protect his granddaughter, so they died together."
"They were nothing but chickens and dogs!"
The man's voice was not loud, but each word struck Mu Yun's chest like a hammer.
Mu Yun's face turned pale. His eyes grew cold.
"You all deserve to die," Mu Yun said quietly, fury burning in his chest. He raised his blade and charged at the man. In the blink of an eye, he was before him. No technique, no form—Mu Yun gripped the blade with both hands and brought it straight down.
"Bamboo-Cutting Strike!"
The man had thought his taunts would cause Mu Yun to lose focus and become vulnerable. He had not expected Mu Yun to attack so swiftly.
In haste, the man raised his hands, a flash of dark light appearing before him as he activated a defensive technique. Mu Yun's blade struck down but met resistance like solid rock. When the edge met the dark light, a sharp clang rang out, sparks flying. A powerful recoil shot back, sending a sharp pain through Mu Yun's hands.
The man was not unscathed either. Under the force of Mu Yun's blow, his legs sank into the ground, and the dark light before him flickered, showing signs of dissipating.
Before he could react, Mu Yun raised the blade and struck again—and again, and again. After more than ten blows, Mu Yun took a deep breath, every muscle in his body tensed. Gripping the sword with both hands, he poured all his remaining strength into one final strike.
The dark light shattered. Though it had deflected the killing blow, the residual force of the shattered blade carried through, cutting through the man's raised arm and then into his right shoulder. The force drove his entire body deep into the earth, leaving only his terrified head above ground, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Blood poured from his mouth. He struggled for a moment, then fell still.
Seeing the man dead, Mu Yun slowly relaxed. He stumbled back a few steps and collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air.
After a moment, he rose, clutching his left side. He cleared away the traces of the fight and looked around.
Not far from the inn, he found a pile of white ash, surrounded by blackened scorch marks from a fire. Mu Yun's heart clenched. He stood there in silence.
His fists were clenched so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palms, drawing blood.
At that moment, fury consumed him.