Chapter Twenty-One: Clarity of Mind

Then Chu Youtai picked up the black-scaled blade.

This blade was exceedingly heavy, with the sheen of gold and the luster of jade, able to emit several inches of dark light.

“Could this be the Cursed Treasure of Lei Yinyang?” Chu Youtai hurriedly pricked his finger, letting a drop of blood soak into the blade. Instantly, he felt a sharp connection, as though he had forged a bond of flesh and spirit with the weapon.

“It really does recognize a master by blood—so it is a Cursed Treasure!”

Elated, Chu Youtai could hardly contain himself. Lei Yinyang’s ability to wield Shadow Assassination beneath the sunlight was formidable, and now that trump card had fallen into his hands. Pity that he possessed neither Daoist arts nor the power of literary energy; otherwise, he could have used Shadow Assassination freely, becoming intangible and impossible to guard against.

He then noticed several slips of gold-edged paper scattered across the floor, each inscribed with “Ten Thousand Taels of Pure Silver”—twenty slips in all.

He immediately recalled the plight of those in the slums. This money could do much good for the disaster victims. He stowed the silver in his robe, then saw at the waist of the dead steward a jade token from the Prince’s Manor, which he also pocketed before heading downstairs.

He had only just taken a step when the shrill, aged voice of a woman drifted up from below, oddly familiar to his ears.

The voice said, “Steward Lei, don’t play games with me. You must hand Yun Cuixian over to me at dusk today. I’ll make her understand how to properly serve our guests!”

Another voice replied, “I’ll need orders from the master for that. But I’ve found that Hongyu is also hiding at Chu Youtai’s house. You’ll have to deal with her too.”

“Hongyu? The little girl with some bearing and a mole on her face? All right!”

A realization flashed in Chu Youtai’s mind—this was the madam who had come to his house to demand Yun Cuixian. He hadn’t expected her to walk into his hands. Hearing her words now, anger surged within him. Without hesitation, he leapt from the staircase, the black-scaled blade in hand, and cleaved the madam in two from head to toe as if slicing through gold and jade.

The steward beside her was aghast. Seeing the black-scaled blade, his face changed dramatically, and he opened his mouth to shout—but Chu Youtai had already thrust the blade into his chest, twisted it, and sent a torrent of blood spilling to the floor. The steward collapsed, lifeless.

In that moment, an unspeakable clarity and exhilaration washed over Chu Youtai. He wrapped his face in a black scarf he had prepared, hid the blade within his robe, and strode out of Lei Jun’s residence.

He had not walked far before he reached the outskirts of the refugee slums.

Chu Youtai paused.

Not far ahead, three children were being pummeled and kicked by a burly man.

The children knelt, heads cradled in their arms, silent in their pain.

The brute shouted, “I told you not to steal fried cakes for me!” His blows grew crueler, leaving the children’s heads bloodied and broken.

Chu Youtai approached coldly, seized the burly man from behind, and threw him aside.

Bloodstained and masked, Chu Youtai looked fearsome. The crowd scattered. The burly man was flung several meters, crashing heavily to the ground.

Furious, the man staggered up and charged in a rage. Though Chu Youtai was exhausted from using the Dragon Pearl of River and Mountain, leaving him drained, he still handled the brute with ease, grabbing and tossing him away once more.

This time, the man was so battered he dared not approach again.

Chu Youtai handed out a few pieces of silver to each child. He had seen the defiance in their eyes—a reflection of his past self, chased and beaten for his sister’s sake. A surge of pity and memory welled up within him.

In a deep voice, he said, “Each of you go to one of the three main gang headquarters in Yan Prefecture City. Tell them Lei Yinyang is dead and Lei Jun’s residence has been wiped out. This silver is your reward.”

Clutching the silver, the children fixed their gaze on the masked man, memorizing his voice. In unison, they replied, “Yes!” Their voices, though tender, held undeniable resolve.

Barefoot, they ran off toward Yan Prefecture City.

Watching their retreating figures, Chu Youtai felt a measure of relief. The massacre at Lei Jun’s residence would surely alarm the authorities. If they investigated methodically, it would not be hard to trace the deed to him. But if the city’s other gangs became involved in a looting spree, clues would become muddled, perhaps escalating into gang warfare—a headache for the authorities.

Chu Youtai then went to the trading post in the slums, bought a poor horse for ten taels of silver, and set out for Yan Prefecture City.

Only now did he have a moment to check his remaining years of life. Killing Lei Yinyang had granted him three inches of Yang energy; instead of depleting, his life force had risen, restoring him to six years’ vitality. In his robe lay two hundred thousand taels of silver and a waist token from the Prince’s Manor.

But the greatest prize was the black-scaled blade. Now possessing two Cursed Treasures, he was on par with the Lady of the Prince’s Manor.

Still, Chu Youtai knew that compared to the Lady’s foundation, he was far inferior. Her cultivation was unfathomably deep—over thirty years of Daoist arts, and it was this that made so many fear her.

He, by contrast, had no Daoist arts at all. To wield the Cursed Treasures, he could only burn his lifespan. This second treasure was far less valuable to him than true Daoist techniques. Unfortunately, in this world, the inheritance of such arts was so precious that outsiders could never hope to obtain it.

If Chu Youtai possessed Daoist arts, his strength and speed would be far greater. Today’s battle with Lei Yinyang would not have been so perilous; most crucially, Daoist arts could offset the loss of his life force.

The thought of the Lady made him shiver inwardly. He had slain her steward; the story-spreader’s plan would likely go unrealized. But with two hundred thousand taels of her silver now in his hands, the Lady’s character would not let the matter rest. She would pursue the truth relentlessly. This time, he had escaped death by sheer luck, using the Dragon Pearl’s time reversal. But next time?

Right now, Chu Youtai was desperate to know how Hongyu had crafted such a brocade pouch—and why this time it had the power to turn back time.

Eager to return, he urged his horse onward towards Yan Prefecture City.

Yet he felt his strength fading; the use of time reversal had nearly exhausted him. As he rode on in a daze, not knowing how far he had come, his body finally gave out and he tumbled from the horse.

All around, there seemed to be many trees.

Just then, a net descended from the sky, its many hooks binding him tightly.

He vaguely heard a voice: “Ha! Caught a fat one, and good-looking too. We’ll take him to the slave pits!”

Chu Youtai tried to struggle, but his body wouldn’t obey—he could not break free.

Half-conscious, he felt himself being dragged away by several people, headed toward a distant village.