Chapter Thirty-Nine: All the Disciples of Guixu Are Fools

Bai Mu!

Ling Yan furrowed her delicate brows in anger, her words dripping with disdain as she retorted, “To think you are a disciple of the ancient great deity Bai Ze. Back then, when he and the Heavenly Emperor joined forces to shatter the Demon Emperor Han Bi, he was so spirited and bold—how could his disciple be so timid and indecisive?”

“No, you misunderstand—”

“I do not misunderstand!” Ling Yan interrupted Bai Mu without a trace of courtesy, her indignation undiminished. “Since you are determined to venture down the mountain alone, do not tarnish Bai Ze’s revered name. If you are truly frightened, then return at once to Dongwang Mountain. With your master Bai Ze’s cultivation, healing your wounds would be a trivial matter. As for those who tried to harm you, with Bai Ze’s reputation, they would not dare cause trouble at Dongwang Mountain!”

“That won’t do!” Bai Mu quickly refuted, his tone resolute. “I refuse to return so soon. If I go back bearing sword wounds, I’ll only give my master cause for worry!”

He shifted his words, gritting his teeth. “Actually, you are right. Even if we don’t go to Floating Jade Mountain, they’ll come for us sooner or later. We might evade them for a time, but never forever. Given the prestige and power of the Temple of Guixu, finding our hiding place would be a simple task.”

“Rather than living our days on the run, it’s better to confront them openly on the mountain. Win or lose, it will be a bold deed, and not a wasted life!”

“Well said, Bai Mu! Now that’s the spirit of a true man!”

“Besides, for your stirring words just now, I am determined to help you. When we reach Floating Jade Mountain, you needn’t be afraid. If that God of War, Brahma Immortal, dares trouble you, I’ll tug his beard myself!”

Heh heh.

Bai Mu chuckled meaningfully, unable to hide a surge of delight in his heart. With the Heavenly Emperor’s daughter by his side, how could Brahma Immortal dare to make things difficult for him?

If Ling Yan truly lost her temper, she might actually pluck the God of War’s beard!

The image of Brahma Immortal bereft of his beard flashed through Bai Mu’s mind, and he could not help but burst into laughter.

“What are you giggling about?” Ling Yan gazed at him, puzzled.

“Nothing… nothing.”

Bai Mu hastily brushed it off, then reminded her, “After the battle here, surely travelers passing by have taken notice. We’d best leave this troublesome place quickly!”

Agreed!

“But before we go, there’s one more thing to do.” Ling Yan spoke as she scanned the woods, clearly searching for something.

When Bai Mu’s gaze fell upon the small mound by the stream, covered with scattered stones, he instantly understood Ling Yan’s intent.

“Let me help you!” Bai Mu muttered cleverly. With a slight movement, he sped into the nearby woods, selected a young tree as thick as a bowl, and, with a gentle swipe of his Azure Dragon Sword, sliced it cleanly from the ground.

He then swung his sword a few more times without any particular technique, and soon the tree was transformed into a smooth, pristine wooden plank. Freshly cut, it exuded a pleasant aroma of wood.

Delighted, Bai Mu brought the plank to Ling Yan. “Is this what you were searching for?”

“Exactly.” Ling Yan’s eyes lit up. She quickly accepted the fragrant plank, gathered her spiritual energy at her fingertips, and wrote in midair upon the wood: “Grave of Wushang, Third Generation Disciple of the Temple of Guixu.”

The characters were elegant and flowing, revealing a scholar’s hand. Bai Mu’s admiration for Ling Yan grew even deeper.

Once finished, Ling Yan flicked her jade-like hand, and the plank, as if guided by unseen eyes, flew to Wushang’s mound and planted itself two feet deep in the earth.

Wushang, third generation disciple of the Temple of Guixu, a rising star from the greatest sect in the Wildlands, was thus quietly buried in these desolate mountains.

Fame across the ages, loneliness after death, perhaps it is nothing more than this.

With preparations complete, the two had no heart to savor the aruo fruit. They strode swiftly, racing toward Floating Jade Mountain, two hundred miles away.

Once their figures vanished into the mountains, a sudden gust of sinister wind swept the streamside. Moments later, a giant gray crane drifted down from the trees, flapping its wings beside the water, then, before the naked eye, transformed into an old man in a gray robe.

Who else could this be but the Old Ancestor of the Gray Crane?

It turned out he had been hiding in the shadows, observing the situation. Seeing Bai Mu and Ling Yan’s formidable cultivation, a shiver of dread rose within him. He recalled that day outside the cave atop Mang Mountain—if Bai Mu’s sword aura had not erupted, he would surely have been slain by the pair.

The Gray Crane slowly paced to Wushang’s mound, muttering coldly, “Those Temple of Guixu fools, unable to see through such a clumsy frame-up—my careful arrangements wasted.”

“But now they are convinced Bai Mu is the murderer. I can sit back and watch the tigers fight. If luck favors me, perhaps I can seize Bai Ze’s Spirit Beast Map and that ancient sword!”

He sneered at the mound, pushing both hands forward. A gentle yet sinister force emanated from his long palms, sweeping the stones from Wushang’s grave until it was perfectly clear.

Wushang’s corpse, blasted beyond recognition, and his blood-stained black robe were exposed.

Gazing at the dreadful remains, the Gray Crane Ancestor could not help but sigh, “Wushang was so handsome in life, now reduced to this—how lamentable. But even in death, he must not benefit the Temple of Guixu!”

With that, the Gray Crane Ancestor swiftly formed a sword gesture with his right hand, erect and powerful before his chest, chanting, “Black demonic aura, shield my spirit. In the name of the Demon Emperor and the Rebellious Zither, exchange your hollow cauldron, draw your soul—now!”

As his incantation ended, a faint black mist emerged inexplicably from Wushang’s corpse, drifting into the Gray Crane Ancestor’s Universe Bag at his waist, then vanished swiftly.

It seemed he was cultivating some demonic art.

But that was not all.

After the last vestige of deathly energy was drawn out, beneath Wushang’s abdomen, at the cauldron-pellet point, a blue light flashed, and a bead the size of a diamond floated from his belly into the Gray Crane Ancestor’s palm.