Struck in the face, Steward Zhang twisted with the momentum to bleed off the force of the blow. Even so, he could not fathom it. The poison he had slipped to Tao Yaoye was his finest handiwork, one that had sent countless cultivators to a bitter grave. How could it have failed?
Tao Yaoye gave no answer. Once she confirmed the parrot truly belonged to Miss Shang, her guard had already gone up.
Everyone in the township knew a talking demon bird was flying about. If the Shang family had sent out even a single person to search, they would have recovered the parrot long ago, and none of this would have followed.
The Shang family's behavior went against common sense; something was definitely wrong!
Add to that Miss Shang's standoffish attitude—she hadn't really been trying to drive them away, but subtly signaling that the Shang residence was dangerous and urging them to leave at once.
A lazy voice came from behind, answering in Tao Yaoye's place. "A required introductory course at the Dao Seeking Sect: *Eighteen Hundred Common Poisons and Their Antidotes*. Care to take a look?"
The poison Steward Zhang took so much pride in was nothing more than a joke in the eyes of the Dao Seeking Sect. No matter how good he was at concocting venom, could it ever rival what Pill Cauldron Peak brewed?
Steward Zhang whipped around and saw Lu Yang leaning against the doorframe, cradling an ancient sword and smiling at him.
Steward Zhang realized then: Tao Yaoye was not the prey. He was.
In a low voice, he demanded, "How did you see through me?"
He did not believe he had slipped up. The entire Shang household was under his control; no one could have leaked his secret.
When Shang Yuan and Lu Yang were talking in the room, he had refrained from extending his divine sense for fear of being detected. Instead, he had eavesdropped the old-fashioned way, which was how he learned Lu Yang and Tao Yaoye were Dao Seeking Sect disciples.
Yet Shang Yuan had not revealed his identity either.
His hearing was sharp enough that not even someone writing or drawing could have escaped his ears.
Lu Yang smiled. "Do you know what the parrot was saying around the township?"
"What did it say?"
"It said, 'Who are you, and where is Zhang Guanjia?'"
"At first, we thought the parrot was looking for Zhang Guanjia. Later, we realized it was simply parroting words it had heard. That was when I started wondering—Zhang Guanjia doesn't roam the martial world, so where did the parrot hear that sentence?"
"Do you think it's possible," Lu Yang continued, "that the parrot wasn't saying, 'Who are you, and where is Zhang Guanjia?' but rather, 'Who are you, and where is Steward Zhang?'"
A scene took shape in Lu Yang's mind:
Twenty days ago, Miss Shang had inadvertently discovered that someone had usurped Steward Zhang's identity. In fright, she must have cried out, "Who are you, and where is Steward Zhang?" In her panic, she knocked over the bird perch, frightening the parrot into flight. Those were the last words the bird heard. Later, at the tailor shop, facing Township Head Huang, the bird repeated them.
Perhaps the parrot's pronunciation was off, or perhaps Township Head Huang's mind immediately went to Zhang Guanjia, with whom he interacted most. Either way, the bird's words were taken as "Who are you, and where is Zhang Guanjia?"
Steward Zhang burned with fury. To think his entire plan had been ruined by a brainless bird that could do nothing but repeat what it heard!
Had he known, he would have slaughtered it back then!
Still, Steward Zhang was no novice to the martial world. Cornered by the two of them, he burst into laughter. "I am at the late Foundation Establishment stage. If I want to flee, do you honestly think you can stop me?"
Tao Yaoye grew anxious. If Steward Zhang escaped, they would have no choice but to report back to the sect and leave it to senior brothers and sisters to handle—and whether he could even be tracked down remained up in the air.
That would be rather humiliating for her. She had already completed two missions; she hadn't expected an unexpected complication to crop up on her third.
Lu Yang remained completely composed, which rattled Steward Zhang's confidence. "Did it never occur to you that if you could poison us, we could poison you as well?"
Hearing that, Steward Zhang relaxed and sneered in disdain. "I wondered what you were getting at. Poison? What good is that against me?"
As he spoke, his skin became loose and baggy, shedding like a snake sloughing off its skin. Flesh separated from hide. The peeled skin retained a complete human shape and stood upright in the middle of the room, its hollow facial features staring directly at Tao Yaoye. It was enough to make anyone's hair stand on end. Meanwhile, the skinless body collapsed to the floor with a thud.
A painted-skin ghost.
Tao Yaoye's expression grew solemn. She finally understood why Steward Zhang claimed poison was useless against him.
Poisons invariably targeted physical flesh—specifically the internal organs, muscles, and meridians. Steward Zhang was a painted-skin ghost whose true form was a sheet of skin. Who would ever concoct a poison targeting skin?
Besides, was there even a poison made specifically for skin? At least, Steward Zhang had never heard of one.
Lu Yang had.
Just as Steward Zhang was about to show off his form, he noticed with horror that green-bean-sized blisters were sprouting all over his two feet. Layers upon layers of skin were peeling away. The pustules swelled with excruciating itch and pain, bursting at the slightest scratch. Steward Zhang had merely rubbed against the floor a few times, and thick yellow fluid was already oozing out.
"Wh-what is this?!" Panic crept into his voice.
He had never experienced anything like this before. When had he been poisoned?
"Athlete's foot."
"What?" Steward Zhang thought he had misheard.
"You thought I was chatting with you just to pass the time? No, I was waiting for your symptoms to flare up."
"I anticipated you would come looking for Tao Yaoye, so I left a poison in this wing room beforehand to induce athlete's foot!"
Steward Zhang's face turned pale.
Tao Yaoye's face darkened.
With a menacing grin, Lu Yang took a step toward Steward Zhang, terrifying the ghost so much that he scrambled backward and tumbled onto his backside.
"H-how could you possibly know I was a painted-skin ghost?!" Without knowing beforehand, how could he have used such a targeted poison?!
More to the point, Steward Zhang had never heard of any painted-skin ghost catching athlete's foot!
Right now, both his feet itched so intensely he was nearly driven mad, to the point of wanting to chop them off. He was forced to divert most of his concentration and spiritual power just to suppress the toxic reaction, leaving him entirely unable to flee.
Suddenly, Steward Zhang's vision blurred, and Lu Yang vanished into thin air.
"How is that possible!" Steward Zhang's eyes bulged with rage. Lu Yang had only just reached Foundation Establishment; no matter how exquisite his footwork, he couldn't have slipped past his sight.
"An illusion!" Steward Zhang realized in a flash and threw himself into a roll to get away.
Alas, it was too late. A cold gleam flashed, swift as thunder. A fine line opened from Steward Zhang's forehead straight down to his groin. Lu Yang sheathed his sword, and Steward Zhang fell in two halves, the cut as smooth as a mirror.
"Nicely done." Lu Yang gave Tao Yaoye a thumbs-up.
Just moments ago, Tao Yaoye had deployed her Thousand Illusions Umbrella to trap Steward Zhang in an illusion. The illusion wasn't flawless, and with Steward Zhang's extensive experience roaming the world, he saw through it in the time it took to daze out.
Yet that brief moment of distraction was all Lu Yang needed: draw the sword, slash vertically, and sheathe the blade, all in one fluid motion.
Painted-skin ghosts were renowned for their bizarre tricks, not their defense. Against a sword cultivator—the most lethal of all offensive disciplines—combined with a momentary lapse in concentration and no spiritual energy circulating to mount a defense, the outcome was decided in a single strike, without the slightest suspense!
The moment Lu Yang saw through its identity, every advantage the painted-skin ghost possessed had evaporated.
Unable to believe it, the painted-skin ghost glared fixedly at Lu Yang, its mouth opening and closing. One could faintly make out the question it was trying to ask: *How did you see through my true form?*
Tao Yaoye turned toward Lu Yang as well; she too wanted to know the answer.
Lu Yang said nothing. He swung his sword again, cleaving the painted-skin ghost into four pieces, doused it with spiritual liquor, and set it ablaze. Amid agonized shrieks, the painted-skin ghost burned down to charred cinders.
Who knew if this monstrous thing had any hidden tricks left? Better to kill it first, then take his time explaining.
Chapter 22