11: Chapter 11 Old Mo of the Scripture Pavilion, his lackeys block his way.

The air in the abandoned cellar behind the Servant Peak was filled with the smell of moldy straw.

This was a place for storing rotten cabbage; usually, even rats found it too damp, but now it was the perfect hiding spot.

Ye Feng threw the unconscious Sun Dazhuang onto the straw pile and casually checked his pulse.

It was beating strongly; he wouldn't die.

Compared to this brute sleeping like a pig, Ye Feng felt that he was the one about to explode.

The medicinal power of the blood fiend pill he had swallowed raw was too fierce, and when combined with the Evil Qi from the pool of blood essence ore he had forcibly drained, the two energies rampaged through his Meridians like two crazed dragons.

His internal organs were burning.

Ye Feng grabbed a ladle of swill that had been sitting on the ground for who knows how long and downed it. The cold liquid flowed down his throat into his stomach, but it was evaporated by the intense heat without even causing a ripple.

He still had to go to the Scripture Pavilion.

Only there were there Mind-Cultivation Techniques to suppress Evil Qi, even if it was just the most basic 'Ice Heart Technique'. Otherwise, within half an hour, he would explode and turn into a puddle of mush due to the blood energy.

The night was as dark as ink, and Ye Feng moved through the shadows of the path like a ghost.

The doors of the Scripture Pavilion were tightly shut at this moment, with only two dim lanterns at the entrance swaying in the wind, stretching the shadow of the person standing with arms crossed on the stone steps.

Ye Feng's footsteps came to a sudden halt.

The person was wearing the black shirt of an Outer Sect Law Enforcement Disciple, carrying an iconic heavy black iron sword on his back, his fleshy face quivering with the chewing motion.

Zhang Kui.

Ye Feng's eyelids twitched.

This guy was Shen Lang's most loyal lackey. Half a year ago, when Ye Feng went to the Outer Sect to deliver firewood, he was kicked by Zhang Kui and had three ribs broken just because he didn't glance at Shen Lang's sedan chair, leaving him to recover for two whole months.

Enemies often cross paths.

"Yo, isn't this the trash that scurries around like a rat?"

Zhang Kui stopped chewing, his triangular eyes narrowing slightly as his nostrils flared.

"Such a heavy scent of blood."

He sneered, his fan-like hand slowly reaching for the hilt of the heavy sword on his back. "Senior Brother Shen said that there was a dishonest hand stealing things in the mining area tonight, and told me to wait here like a rabbit waiting for a tree stump. It seems I didn't wait for a rabbit, but instead, I caught a wild cat stealing a snack."

Ye Feng didn't speak; he just tensed his body, forcing the violent Spiritual Qi inside him into his legs at that moment.

In his current physical condition, he was not fit for a prolonged battle.

"Are you mute?"

Zhang Kui's expression darkened, and he drew the hundred-jin heavy black iron sword with one hand, the blade dragging across the stone steps and sparking blindingly.

"Since you can't speak, then don't ever speak again."

Without any fancy opening stance, Zhang Kui pushed off the ground, causing the stone steps to crack, and charged forward like a black bear pouncing on its prey.

The heavy sword whistled sharply, stabbing straight toward Ye Feng's left shoulder.

There was a wound there, deep enough to see the bone, which he had gotten from thorns on the cliff just moments ago.

This sword strike wasn't just meant to kill; it was meant to torture.

Ye Feng's pupils constricted.

Too fast.

If it were usual times, he could have dodged this strike, but at this moment, the two types of Evil Qi inside him were attacking each other. Any attempt to mobilize his Spiritual Qi caused excruciating pain, and his movements were involuntarily delayed by half a beat.

He couldn't dodge it.

Then he had no choice but to take the hit and trade this arm for his life.

A fierce light exploded in Ye Feng's eyes, and his right hand imperceptibly reached for the iron piece at his waist.

Just as the tip of the sword was less than three inches from Ye Feng's shoulder, and the sharp Sword Qi had already pierced his clothes...

"Cough."

An old, dull cough, like someone with thick phlegm stuck in their throat, drifted abruptly from the pitch-black crack in the Scripture Pavilion's door.

The sound was not loud, but it felt like a heavy hammer striking both of their eardrums.

Following that, an invisible, gentle force swept across the steps.

Zhang Kui's powerful strike hit an invisible wall of air, and the blade was forcefully deflected by three inches. It brushed past Ye Feng's cheek and smashed into the stone lion beside them, shattering half of the lion's head.

"Who?!"

Zhang Kui's hand went numb, and he retreated two steps, filled with both shock and anger.

Creak—

The heavy wooden door opened slowly.

An old man wearing a gray cloth robe, hunched and bent over, walked out slowly while carrying a bare bamboo broom.

His cloudy old eyes looked as if he hadn't woken up yet. He didn't even look at the stone lion that had been sliced off, but just kept his head down, sweeping dust that didn't exist on the steps.

"The Scripture Pavilion is a restricted area. If you want to slaughter a pig at the entrance, go somewhere else to do it."

Old Mo.

That was the eccentric old man who was said to have been sweeping floors here for fifty years, the one even the Sect Master had to treat with some courtesy when they met.

The flesh on Zhang Kui's face twitched, and a trace of deep dread flashed in his eyes.

He acted like a tyrant in the Outer Sect, but he wasn't stupid enough to act wildly in front of Old Mo.

Although this old thing looked like he had one foot in the grave, rumors said he was somewhat uncanny.

"Old Mo, this kid is suspected of stealing from the Sect's mining vein..."

"This old man is hard of hearing; I can't hear what kind of fart you're spouting."

Old Mo kept his head down, the broom sliding across the blue stone slabs with a rustling sound. "If you want to enter, then enter; if not, then get lost. If you block this old man from sweeping again, I'll sweep you out too."

Zhang Kui's face flushed red with suppressed anger, the veins on his hand holding the sword bulging, but in the end, he didn't dare to lash out.

He turned his venomous gaze toward Ye Feng.

Since he couldn't attack, he would use his Aura to crush him to death.

He unleashed his Spiritual Pressure of the Seventh Level of the Qi Gathering Realm without reservation, covering him like a great mountain.

Ordinary Servants would have knelt down to beg for mercy under this Spiritual Pressure.

But Ye Feng did not kneel.

Instead, he smiled, the corners of his mouth curling into a mocking arc, and walked toward Zhang Kui step by step, bearing the suffocating pressure.

Want to use Spiritual Pressure to intimidate me?

Perfect.

The two passed each other on the narrow steps.

"Trash, you can only hide behind that old geezer to survive." Zhang Kui lowered his voice, his vicious curse drilling into Ye Feng's ears.

Ye Feng remained expressionless. The moment he passed by Zhang Kui, he raised his left hand, seemingly unintentionally, and brushed it lightly against the bulging Storage Pouch at the other's waist.

The moment his fingertips made contact, a black hole vortex flashed and vanished in his palm.

Attribute Stripping.

Zhang Kui only felt a lightness at his waist, as if something had instantly flowed away, but when he checked his Storage Pouch, he found the opening tied up perfectly.

An illusion?

Before he could react, Ye Feng had already stepped over the threshold of the Scripture Pavilion.

A stream of extremely pure Spiritual Qi surged into his Dantian along Ye Feng's arm; it was the essence of three Mid-Grade Spirit Stones that had been instantly drained.

It was like a traveler in the desert drinking a mouthful of sweet spring water; the violent blood energy in his body was unexpectedly calmed down for the moment.

Thanks for the treat.

Ye Feng looked back at the bewildered Zhang Kui, his eyes revealing a mockery that only he understood.

At this moment, Old Mo had finished sweeping and was leaning against the doorframe, his seemingly cloudy eyes staring meaningfully at Ye Feng's slightly reddened hands.

"Too much Killing Intent will shorten your life."

Old Mo casually pulled a dusty, tattered book from his sleeve and threw it to Ye Feng like he was tossing out trash.

"Although this 'Heart Cleansing Mantra' is only half a volume, it's enough for you to use. Don't dirty this old man's floor."

Ye Feng took the tattered thread-bound book; it felt slightly cool to the touch.

Just as he was about to thank him, his fingers felt something hard inside the layers of the pages.

He opened it to take a look.

It was a card as bright red as blood.

On it were only four large characters that pierced through the paper, each word carrying a frigid Killing Intent—

【Decide victory, and decide life and death.】

Signature: Outer Sect, Shen Lang.

Ye Feng's pupils constricted slightly.

This is a life-and-death duel challenge?

What did Old Mo mean by giving him this? Was it a warning, or...

Before he could figure it out, a rapid and sharp sound of breaking air suddenly came from the night sky outside the Scripture Pavilion, accompanied by a dignified and cold shout that exploded overhead like a thunderclap.

"Law Enforcement Hall on duty! Who was privately administering punishment in the back mountain just now?!"

This voice... it was Outer Sect Grand Elder Liu Qingfeng.

Ye Feng stuffed the challenge card into his bosom, his heart sinking heavily.

They've already come looking for him?