Chapter Seventy-One: The Desire to Flee

Wang Fu stared at the Shura Bone Sword in Li Mu’s hand, unable to control the trembling of his body. That sword, with merely a flicker of Xu Yi’s intent, had shattered his will in an instant.

“You actually killed Xu Yi? Do you realize he was an inner disciple of Mingyu Valley?” Wang Fu pointed at Li Mu, voice low and incessant.

“And you’re the same, aren’t you?” Li Mu nodded slightly, his gaze drifting to his little sister before circling back, fixing Wang Fu with a steady look. “You can kill me, but I can’t kill you—is there such a thing in this world?”

“You’re just an outsider, how could you possibly stand against Mingyu Valley?” Wang Fu’s voice grew louder, but inside he was only more afraid, his body trembling uncontrollably.

“I’ve already offended the Jade Iron Sect, now another Mingyu Valley—so what? In fact, bring them all to me.” Li Mu closed his eyes for a moment before reopening them, a resolute determination in his gaze. Things had already reached this point; if there were consequences, so be it. There was no need for fear—it was inevitable.

Shen Bingxue gripped the hem of her robe, watching Li Mu, her eyes swirling with thoughts unknown.

“Do you truly intend to kill me?”

“Not only can I, I absolutely will.” Li Mu’s answer was immediate, without hesitation.

Facing annihilation, Wang Fu suddenly whispered, “I am an inner disciple. If my jade token shatters, someone will surely come seeking vengeance. Let me go, and I promise I won’t speak of this.”

“Why are all you Mingyu Valley types so spineless? Are you going to act yourself, or should I?” Li Mu shook his head.

Shortly after, the battle was over.

Wang Fu’s spirit had crumbled, and against Li Mu, now armed with a powerful treasure, he stood no chance. The jade token of the inner disciple was crushed.

“This sword is yours,” Li Mu tossed the Shura Bone Sword to Shen Bingxue.

Shen Bingxue frowned, intent on refusing.

Li Mu was stubborn. “There’ll be more battles from now on. If you’re coming with me, you need a good weapon—there’s no other way.”

Shen Bingxue could only accept, albeit reluctantly. “I do hope there won’t be another chance to use it.” Her cultivation was excellent, slightly above Li Mu’s, but in actual combat she fell short—she wasn’t his match.

The flying shuttles, though damaged, still yielded several valuable ones—a profitable haul.

Ye Da, who had plotted against Li Mu, lost everything, including his life.

Within the clouds, everyone moved faster than before. Space was cramped, and Sun Qi and Sun Sanjiu were growing increasingly nauseous.

“One girl squeezed among you all—is it better if I take care of Ying’er?” Shen Bingxue glanced at Li Mu, arching her brow.

Li Mu laughed and shook his head. “Ying’er stays with me. If you don’t mind, Sun Sanjiu can go with you.”

“Fine, Sun Sanjiu was my medicine boy anyway.”

Shen Bingxue was clever enough to know Li Mu wouldn’t let go of Li Ying, but she didn’t mind. With everyone settled, their speed increased as they flew swiftly northward.

---

Mingyu Valley, Soul Tablet Hall.

“Xu Yi’s soul lamp has gone out.”

“Hurry, inform the vice steward.”

A few cultivators, seeing the extinguished lamp, grew nervous.

The deputy steward, Wang Lin, was in the later stage of Meridian Cultivation. Short in stature, he bore a long scar stretching from his forehead to chin, dividing his face in two, giving him a fierce appearance. Among cultivators at his stage, covering one’s face was common, but he made no attempt to hide his scar, almost as if it was intentional.

“Xu Yi was killed?” Wang Lin’s expression remained calm as he sat in his chair. “What happened? Where did it happen?”

“I don’t know, sir. But a few days ago, Xu Yi and Wang Fu left for Deyang City with Ye Da,” the reporting cultivator bent low, terrified.

“Wang Fu went as well?” Wang Lin’s face shifted—Wang Fu was his cherished nephew, a favorite. “Why did they go to Deyang City?”

“I don’t know, maybe it was related to the Jade Iron Association?”

“If you know nothing, what use are you?” Wang Lin roared. “Find out immediately, then report back.”

“Yes, yes, I understand.” The cultivator trembled. Wang Lin’s temperament was notorious among the disciples—never to be crossed, or else trouble would follow.

Just as he exited the hall, another cultivator rushed in, panic on his face.

“Disaster, Steward Wang! Wang Fu and Ye Da… their soul lamps have gone out too!”

“What!”

Wang Lin sprang up like a gust of wind, and the lamps inside the hall dimmed. A wave of pressure pressed upon the cultivator.

“Repeat that?”

“Wang Fu… his soul lamp… has also gone out.” The cultivator curled in on himself, repeating his words.

“They went to Deyang City as well?”

“Yes.”

Looking up, Wang Lin was already gone—a long golden streak vanished into the sky above the valley.

“Who dares kill my nephew—death awaits them!”

His furious roar echoed through the mountains, refusing to fade.

Li Mu’s flight was swift.

Inner disciples were the backbone and future of any sect, receiving immense cultivation and protection. Killing them meant Mingyu Valley would never let it go—they would surely send people to hunt him down. Yet Li Mu knew Mingyu Valley was located in the southern part of the Cloud Mountain Realm, far from Deyang City, and their enemies didn’t know where he was headed. Catching up was unlikely.

Thus, they sped away in their new, fast shuttles.

---

The night stretched on, two streaks of yellow light flying through the sky.

“How do you have so much true power stored up?” Shen Bingxue wondered. While she felt her strength waning, Li Mu seemed perfectly at ease.

Li Mu’s expression was calm. “Don’t say anything. I’m nearly spent—we’ll stop and rest for half an hour.”

Shen Bingxue, annoyed, said, “Pretending even when you’re exhausted.”

Li Mu merely smiled.

It was his habit—to conceal his true state, maintaining a composed exterior regardless of reality. In a world as harsh as this, such an attitude brought tremendous benefit, making him inscrutable and quietly commanding respect.

The two shuttles landed slowly in a patch of forest.

“Big brother, I’m starving,”

Li Ying clung to Li Mu’s hand, blinking with pitiful eyes.

Though they’d eaten a few days ago, the demands of travel drained them far more than staying at home.

Only now did Li Mu realize his oversight: he hadn’t prepared any food pills. In his unconscious habits, he’d treated his sister as a cultivator, forgetting that Li Ying hadn’t started her cultivation yet.

Now, in the midst of their escape, he certainly didn’t want her first experience of cultivation to be under such circumstances.

“Come, let’s find something to eat,” Li Mu patted Li Ying’s small head.

Sun Sanjiu and Sun Qi sat cross-legged, practicing their cultivation. They didn’t use treasures, so their energy consumption was lower. Whenever they had a moment, they seized it for cultivation.

Shen Bingxue took out a pill and prepared to swallow it.

Li Mu, beside her, shook his head and tossed her a jar of pills. “Use mine.”

“What’s this?” Shen Bingxue was unimpressed. “Does Master Li scorn my pills? My Recovery Pills are top grade—they restore plenty of spiritual power.”

Li Mu pointed at the pills, smiling without a word.

Shen Bingxue snorted and casually picked one out. Her expression immediately changed, her tone tinged with surprise. “Top tier?”

The pill in her hand bore an aura lighter and more ethereal than her own high-grade pills, a delicate mist clinging to its surface, lingering and undispersed.

“From now on, Recovery Pills—use mine.”

Li Mu, pleased, turned and strode toward the forest.

Shen Bingxue remained silent, watching his back. In her tranquil eyes, ripples began to stir.