Chapter Thirty-Three: The True and False Bai Mu Stir Suspicion

Tsk, tsk, tsk...

Bai Mu paused for a moment at the sight, then smacked his lips and sighed, “I’ve long heard that you, Xuan Yuan, are famed throughout the Savage Realm for shielding your own. Now that I’ve seen it for myself, your reputation is well-deserved. For the sake of your little disciple’s safety, you’d toss aside your wealth and life—should I be moved by such devotion, or should I scold you for your foolishness?”

Shut your mouth!

Xuan Yuan forced himself to steady his trembling body, struggling to remain upright. Overexertion had turned his face the color of liver, and his eyes bore streaks of blood-red that glimmered ominously.

It seemed that, in saving his young disciple just moments before, he had exhausted every ounce of strength within him. Now, he was as frail as a candle guttering in the wind—any mischievous child could easily topple him.

The contrast between his previous proud demeanor and his present pitiful state was stark, almost comical to behold.

Yet, for a dignified Sword Immortal to fall so low, one could not help but feel a pang of sorrow.

After collecting himself with effort, Xuan Yuan managed to retort, his voice weak, “Bai Mu, do you truly plan to leave no survivors?”

Not necessarily.

Bai Mu, handsome and enigmatic, flashed a sly smile, tilting his head with lazy indifference. “If you’re willing to obey me from this day forward, I might spare your miserable life. But if you insist on opposing me, then prepare to meet your little disciple in the underworld.”

“Enough nonsense!” Xuan Yuan snapped impatiently. “By now, Shen Tu De has surely escaped from Dayong and is headed towards the Sanctuary of the Ruins. Even if you had a thousand lives, Bai Mu, you wouldn’t dare set foot in the Sanctuary!”

“As for me?”

He scoffed, then let out a self-deprecating laugh. “This old body of mine is already at death’s door. I’ve cultivated in the Savage Realm for centuries—departing this world riding a crane wouldn’t be a bad end. If you wish to kill or torture me, do it now. But don’t dream of making me your accomplice!”

“Are you certain?” Bai Mu said, casting a sidelong glance in the direction where the young disciple had disappeared, his face twisted into a sinister grin. “Your disciple’s cultivation is weak; he couldn’t have gotten far in such a short time. And after being struck by my palm, though you saved his life, his body must be badly wounded, his speed greatly diminished…”

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“What are you planning?” Xuan Yuan’s heart chilled at the words, and he demanded in alarm and anger.

“It’s simple.” Bai Mu flicked his fan with a flourish and laughed heartily. “If you refuse me today, I’ll obliterate your body with a single fan, then chase down your little disciple. The two of you can keep each other company in the netherworld—at least you won’t be lonely.”

“You insolent brat!” Xuan Yuan cursed loudly, lunging forward like a common savage, intent on a close-quarters fight. His blood-and-mud-stained hands looked sturdy and fierce, and his face radiated a readiness to die, clearly prepared for the end.

“Foolish to the point of ignorance.” Bai Mu stood unmoved, glancing nonchalantly at the charging Xuan Yuan. He tapped his fan lightly, releasing several gusts of force that struck Xuan Yuan mid-air, sending him hurtling back. His body crashed heavily against a peach tree behind him, stars bursting before his eyes. A mouthful of blood sprayed forth, and he lay on the ground, unable to rise, as limp as mud.

“Xuan Yuan, I advise you not to fight like a cornered beast!”

“I don’t actually have to take your life. If you accept one condition, perhaps I’ll let you and your disciple live.”

“Otherwise…”

Shut up!

Xuan Yuan struggled to his feet, blood still trickling from his mouth. His face was so pale from blood loss it looked almost noodle-white. Yet his expression remained resolute as he rebuked, “Bai Mu, you’ll never make me do anything for you. As for my disciple, Shen Tu De, he’s no coward afraid of death. If you have any courage, kill me now—why waste your breath?”

As he spoke, Xuan Yuan quietly gathered the scattered essence within his body, attempting to marshal it all and deliver a fatal blow to the young man before him while he was unguarded.

Good!

Bai Mu suddenly folded his fan, his face admiring as he praised, “Worthy of the master of the Xuan Yuan Sword Sect! Though your skills are mediocre, your spirit is unmatched. For that alone, I might spare your life.”

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With that, Bai Mu gave him a sly smile. “I notice your expression is unusual, and your face is somewhat contorted. There’s a faint flow of spiritual energy about you—are you secretly gathering your strength for one last attack?”

Seeing that his intent had been discovered, Xuan Yuan simply laughed freely and admitted, “Indeed, that’s my plan. If you’re afraid, you’d best strike me down while my strength hasn’t recovered, or else, who knows who will fall in the end.”

At the same time, Xuan Yuan felt a surge of surprise—he hadn’t expected the other to read his intentions from mere facial cues.

This young man’s cultivation and cunning were both extraordinary. To think he appeared only sixteen or seventeen, yet had achieved such mastery in all aspects; a cold sweat broke out on Xuan Yuan at the thought.

“If you wish to fight, then fight—I, Bai Mu, am not one to shirk from trouble!”

As Bai Mu spoke, he touched a piece of translucent white jade hanging at his waist. His expression suddenly turned serious as he declared, “Xuan Yuan, why don’t we make a wager?”

“What wager?” Xuan Yuan eyed Bai Mu with suspicion, trying to guess what scheme he had in mind.

By rights, given the current situation, he was already at his limits. If the young man truly attacked, it would take no more than two moves to grind him to dust.

But from the moment Bai Mu appeared, a quarter of an hour had passed, and he still hadn’t struck. Was there some deeper plot at play?

His gaze fell upon the piece of ancient jade at the other’s waist, and confusion welled up.

That morning, when Bai Mu and Ling Yan were fighting, he clearly hadn’t been wearing jade at his waist. His weapon had been an ancient sword.

But this young man, who called himself Bai Mu, though identical in appearance, exuded a strange, sinister aura—utterly different from the Bai Mu he’d previously encountered.

Could it be...

A chilling suspicion seized Xuan Yuan’s heart—a terrifying idea rising up: Was this so-called Bai Mu an imposter?