Entering the villa's main foyer, Zhang Yuanqing swept his gaze across the space before sprinting toward the second floor. He came to a halt at the top of the stairs. The room at the very end of the corridor had its door shut tight.
A burly, tall middle-aged man stood guard at the doorway, wearing a black tank top. Thick muscles corded across his frame, and his ferocious expression made him look like a thug or bodyguard straight out of a mob movie.
The villa was dead quiet. Aside from the bruiser guarding the door, no one else was in sight.
*Wang Qian's sister should be inside. Xiahou Tianyuan had her kidnapped and brought here. Tsk, if he had kept her right by his side, caught red-handed with the loot and victim, I could have just called Fu Qingyang...*
Poking his head out, Zhang Yuanqing surveyed the layout of the second floor. From where he stood, he spotted a surveillance camera pointed directly at the room where the guard stood.
*If I were Xiahou Tianyuan, I'd have someone watching that feed twenty-four hours a day so reinforcements could be dispatched the instant anything seemed off...* Zhang Yuanqing silently pulled his head back.
By now, his Night Walk duration had run out. Leaning against the wall by the stairs, he caught his breath and let his stamina recover while turning over his options.
Under the present circumstances, two courses of action lay before him.
First: slip away without a sound and notify Fu Qingyang to send people to rescue the "hostage."
Second: wipe out these kidnappers and take Wang Qian's sister away himself.
The first option appeared safer on the surface, but once the official spirit walkers stepped in, his role in the matter would inevitably be exposed.
Xiahou Tianyuan would realize that the great Yuanshi Tianzun had ruined his plans.
In the past, Zhang Yuanqing wouldn't have cared—he had merits to his name and plenty of trump cards. But with Wang Qian's sister as a fresh example, he had to consider whether a man as utterly unprincipled as Xiahou Tianyuan might investigate his real identity and target his family.
Car accidents, sudden deaths—none of those underhanded methods bothered with procedural justice.
And he hadn't yet formulated a foolproof plan to assassinate Xiahou Tianyuan.
By comparison, the second route was far more dependable, provided he could end the fight swiftly without giving away his identity. Xiahou Tianyuan's first suspicion would definitely fall on the Palace of Halting Slaughter, not the great Yuanshi Tianzun.
Zhang Yuanqing carefully weighed the feasibility of the second plan:
*Xiahou Tianyuan wouldn't dispatch someone at the Saint stage to watch over an ordinary civilian. Walkers of that caliber wouldn't stoop to crude grunt work. The absolute upper limit would be a level 3 walker holding down the fort. The Xiahou family is a Scholar profession clan, so they aren't lacking in items. Among this crew, at least one of them must possess an item—one at the very least.*
*That middle-aged bruiser at the door gave me the distinct impression of a Fire Master. His aura is deep and thick, while the few outside had rather weak auras. He should be the strongest.*
After weighing the scales, he decided to take the risk. He would swiftly eliminate the three outside, then take down the bruiser at the door before Xiahou Tianyuan's reinforcements could arrive.
A level 3 Fire Master wielding an item packed formidable combat power; facing him would certainly be a challenge.
*If all else fails, I'll use the red bridal veil. But I'd have to destroy all traces of the corpses...* Zhang Yuanqing muttered inwardly. *After all, she's the mother of my child.*
He had chosen to ride in alone to save the girl not out of devotion to Wang Qian, but half out of stubborn indignation and a desire to strike back at the Xiahou family, and half for Little Doubi's sake.
He had taken the man's son as a spirit servant; rescuing the sister could count as repaying that debt.
With his thoughts sorted out, Zhang Yuanqing opened his inventory and took out the Disguise Ring.
He had already figured out the functions and limitations of this ring. Once slipped on, visualizing someone's appearance in his mind would allow him to morph into that person's likeness.
The restrictions: no gender bending, and no becoming handsomer than his original self.
[Note: Don't you have any idea what you actually look like?]
That was precisely what it meant.
Slipping the ring onto his finger, Zhang Yuanqing visualized Xiahou Tianyuan's face in his mind. A few seconds later, his features rippled like disturbed water. Once the ripples settled, he had transformed into Xiahou Tianyuan.
Activating Night Walk, he stole silently down the stairs.
In the backyard, three middle-aged men sat around a circular table, basking in the late-spring sun, drinking beer, eating food, and casually shooting the breeze.
"Speaking of which, that woman isn't half bad-looking." The potbellied man facing the living room rubbed his paunch, chuckling slyly as he nudged his companions. "Hey boys, want to have a little fun with her? Young Master Tianyuan is only using her as collateral. As long as she doesn't die, he won't give a damn about that sort of thing."
His two companions didn't take the bait. One chewed on grilled meat while the other sipped his beer, replying, "Sure thing. Why don't you make a call and ask for permission? If Young Master Tianyuan doesn't mind, we'll head inside and do her right now."
The potbellied man laughed wryly. "Come on, I'm just bored, looking for a bit of fun..."
His expression suddenly froze. His eyes locked onto the living room. Across the thick carpet near the doorway, a pair of brand-new red dancing shoes was hopping up and down.
The sight was bizarre and spine-chilling.
The potbellied man's pupils contracted, and he blurted an urgent warning: "Behind you! Look behind you—"
The other two men shuddered and whipped their heads around.
While their attention was drawn to the red dancing shoes, Zhang Yuanqing materialized behind the potbellied man. His left hand clamped over the man's mouth while his right hand, gripping the Bloodthirsty Blade, drew smoothly across the carotid artery.
Hearing a muffled grunt, the other two men snapped their heads back, only to see the potbellied man's terrified face, a fountain of blood spurting from his neck, and a young man with blood splattered across his cheek.
"Young Master Tianyuan?" Both men froze in shock.
In that split second of confusion and panic, they had squandered too much precious time. Zhang Yuanqing thrust his blade straight toward the chest of the man on the left.
The man instinctively reached out to grapple the weapon, only for his fingers to close on empty air. The plunging yanagiba popped like a soap bubble.
An illusion.
A heartbeat later, a cold shock bit into his back, and blood erupted outward.
"N-Night Wanderer?" he spat with furious indignation, slumping limply to the ground.
On the other side, the last kidnapper was just about to react when the uncanny red dancing shoes clattered straight toward him.
He threw an instinctive punch to counter, but a sharp crack sounded. Bone punched through the skin at his wrist, leaving his fist dangling limply from the joint.
*Thud! Thud! Thud!*
With lightning speed, the red dancing shoes delivered a relentless barrage of heavy, brutal stomps into the kidnapper's chest.
The middle-aged kidnapper was sent flying backward, never to rise again.
The entire process took less than ten seconds.
Zhang Yuanqing stepped forward and drove the Bloodthirsty Blade into the last kidnapper's chest, allowing the Bewitching Demon's weapon to drink its fill of essence and blood.
Through the hilt, he felt a scorching, surging power flood into his body.
The mild fatigue brought on by his consecutive uses of Night Walk vanished into thin air. His physical state even soared past its usual peak.
The Bewitching Demon's passive ability—Bloodthirst.
Gripping the Bloodthirsty Blade, Zhang Yuanqing strode brazenly into the living room. The moment his boots touched the soft carpet, a sudden flash of fire erupted beside the door, blasting toward his head.
Yet it struck only a phantom.
The muscular man in the black tank top had slipped on a pair of red fingerless gloves at some point. Having swung into empty air, his expression froze in momentary surprise.
Right then, the real Zhang Yuanqing emerged like a wraith behind the man's back, driving his blade toward the heart.
A Night Wanderer's ambush was silent and nearly impossible to guard against. Yet the instant the blade's tip pierced the skin and sank into the muscle, the Fire Master dived forward with astounding reaction speed.
"A Night Wanderer?" The bruiser rolled to his feet and raised an eyebrow. "You're not Young Master Tianyuan. Who are you?"
*At least I broke through his defense. He'll keep bleeding...* Ignoring the man's words, Zhang Yuanqing shut the living room door, then slipped back into stealth to bide his time.
At the same time, he quietly pulled out the Sky Toad Furnace, kicked it under the sofa, and sent a kill command to the red dancing shoes.
*Click-clack, click-clack...* The red dancing shoes bounded forward at a light, rapid pace, sprinting directly at the middle-aged bruiser. Zhang Yuanqing seized the opportunity to circle around from the left, intending to pincer the Fire Master alongside the shoes.
If he had enough time, he could have easily replicated his feat of killing Ou Xiangrong in the underground garage. Unfortunately, not every battle afforded such favorable conditions.
"Hmph!"
The bruiser snorted coldly. Blazing flames flared up around his gloved fists as he smashed a punch down at the red dancing shoes.
He soon experienced the same helplessness his dead companion had felt. The flames and his fist passed right through the incoming shoes, followed immediately by two dull thuds and a surge of agony in his chest.
The colossal dropkick caused his heart to skip a beat, sending him staggering backward.
*Now's the chance!*
Lowering his stance, Zhang Yuanqing lunged toward his foe like a hunting leopard. But just then, the bruiser dug his heels into the floor to arrest his momentum and violently slammed his fists together against his chest.
*Boom!*
Like a high-explosive grenade detonating, a blistering heatwave and shockwave tore through the expansive living room. The carpet, sofas, and wooden cabinets caught fire, sending tall tongues of flame leaping into the air.
Zhang Yuanqing was blasted out of stealth as well. The searing agony nearly made him black out. His hair curled from the heat, his clothes caught fire, and charred, bloody burns bloomed across his face.
The bruiser's face turned pale, as if suffering a backlash from the explosion himself. Yet he lunged ferociously forward, the muscles across his back swelling as he drew his right fist back.
*Crack!* The air seemed to tear apart.
Still half-dazed from the blast, Zhang Yuanqing couldn't dodge in time. He made the only correct choice, reaching into the Void to snatch out a gleaming amber bead.
The next instant, the savage fist slammed into his face.
*Bang! Bang! Bang!* Heavy impacts echoed in Zhang Yuanqing's ears as one crushing blow after another hammered into his face and chest.
He seemed to have forgotten how to fight back, stumbling backward under the onslaught. Even his retreating steps felt extraordinarily heavy, as though an entire mountain weighed upon his shoulders.
An ochre halo enveloped his body, rippling with faint concentric rings. The force of the punches bled through the defense of the "Steady One" orb and crashed into his flesh. It hurt terribly, but it remained bearable.
*Click-clack, click-clack!*
The red dancing shoes rushed over to rescue their useless master, landing two devastating kicks against the Fire Master's flank.
Zhang Yuanqing finally seized the opening. Instantly retracting the bead, he thrust his blade straight toward the Fire Master's abdomen.
Just then, the bruiser's body combusted, vanishing from before Zhang Yuanqing's eyes.
A second later, he reappeared inside the flames burning not far behind Zhang Yuanqing.
Fire Walk!
The instant the bruiser materialized, he kicked out a searing fireball.
Feeling the scorching wind closing in from behind, Zhang Yuanqing threw himself forward with all his might. The fireball grazed the top of his head and slammed into the nearby wall with a thunderous roar, blasting out a massive scorched crater.
He had barely hit the floor and hadn't yet entered Night Walk when a second and third fireball came hurtling after him in rapid succession.
Rolling sideways, Zhang Yuanqing dodged the first fireball, but the second caught him in the flank. His clothes burst into flames instantly, bringing a sharp, agonizing burn.
*Thump! Thump!*
Two more flying stomps bought him a precious breath of reprieve, and Zhang Yuanqing's rolling figure melted from sight.
The bruiser sidestepped a frontal kick, only to suddenly feel a chill on the crown of his head. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the Night Wanderer disguised as Young Master Tianyuan emerging silently on his left, sweeping his blade in a horizontal slash.
"Hmph, parlor tricks!"
This time, rather than trading blows directly, he flicked his finger to shoot out a line of fire. It pierced cleanly through the ambushing Night Wanderer, causing the figure to dissolve like a popped bubble.
Yet at that exact instant, the bruiser's vision went pitch-black.
A jolt of alarm struck him. Decisive to a fault, he smashed his fists together in front of his chest once more, unleashing a terrifying eruption of flames and concussive force.
*Boom!*
The shockwave shattered the television, overturned the potted plants, and sent roaring flames billowing across the entire living room.
*No ambush...* The bruiser let out a breath of relief. By then, his vision had returned, and the chill atop his head had vanished.
Suddenly, an intense tickle crept up his throat. He couldn't help but cough. The more he coughed, the itchier it became. The bruiser doubled over, coughing until his face turned crimson, until he collapsed onto the floor with his limbs aching, numb, and utterly limp.
Seizing the opening, the red dancing shoes launched a frenzied assault, stomping down onto the bruiser again and again.
At the foot of the stairs leading to the second floor, Zhang Yuanqing watched it all in silence. Beside his foot stood a chubby, teary-eyed baby, clinging to its master's pant leg with one small hand while pointing with the other at the bruiser in the black tank top, silently complaining about how terrified it had just been.
Moments earlier, it was Little Doubi who had clung to the Fire Master's crown, allowing Zhang Yuanqing to swap the man's vision away.
The goal had been to force the bruiser into using that explosive trick again, as Zhang Yuanqing had keenly observed that the technique inflicted heavy self-harm along with damage to the enemy.
All of this had merely set the stage for the poison to take effect. From the moment his blade first grazed the bruiser's back, Zhang Yuanqing had conceived this strategy.
He would use the red dancing shoes and the Bloodthirsty Blade for attrition, and rely on the Sky Toad Furnace as the finishing move.
The toxins from the Sky Toad Furnace volatilized continuously. In theory, a single breath was enough to poison someone, but the poison was initially so faint that even ordinary people could endure it, requiring time to accumulate.
However, if the target's physical condition was battered and weak, their immunity would plummet.
Thus, he had formulated a plan to wear down the enemy through the relentless pursuit of the red dancing shoes and the bleeding inflicted by the Bloodthirsty Blade, before letting the Sky Toad Furnace seal the victory.
His bold deployment of the furnace hadn't been a blind gamble either; he had been confident his own immunity would outlast the Fire Master's. A Night Wanderer's formidable vitality and self-healing were his bedrock.
A Fire Master possessed no such passive benefits.
Seeing that the Fire Master had finally stopped moving under the relentless stomping of the red dancing shoes, Zhang Yuanqing still took no chances. Treating his yanagiba like a throwing dagger, he hurled it with all his strength.
The sharp blade pinned itself deep into the man's lower abdomen. Only then did he feel assured. Wasting no time, he reached under the overturned sofa to retrieve the Sky Toad Furnace, returning the bronze-based, ebony-bodied item to his inventory.
Next, he recalled the Bloodthirsty Blade, the red dancing shoes, and stripped the pair of gloves from the Fire Master's hands.
By now, the flames had begun to spread, blazing furiously with signs of swallowing the entire living room.
Racing against the clock, Zhang Yuanqing bounded up to the second floor, leaped high, and shattered the surveillance camera with a single punch.
*Thud, thud, thud...* He broke into a run down the elm-floored hallway, quickly arriving before the door. Suddenly, Zhang Yuanqing's pupils shrank to pinpricks as he stared fixedly at the floor beside the doorway.
A phone lay quietly on the ground, its screen lit, keeping an ongoing call connected.
The caller displayed on the screen—Xiahou Tianyuan!
Chapter 84