Chapter Twenty-Three: The Outer Elixir is Forged

At this moment, Lianxin also felt her face burning with embarrassment. She hadn’t expected the Hundred Flowers Sect to be so poor at gathering intelligence; even the information on the Marquis of Wu’an’s fourth son was wrong, causing her to make such a humiliating mistake.

Beside her, the old crone was equally mortified, her shame and anger hard to bear. She glared hatefully at everyone from the Marquis’s household, then turned to see the three men in official robes nearby, all of whom were smirking. Furious, she shouted at them, “Aren’t you from the Imperial Astronomical Bureau? If you knew the truth, why didn’t you warn us?”

The man in the middle replied, “We’re all here to fight for the treasure. Each to their own means. What does it matter to you if we knew or not?”

“You—!” The old woman’s anger flared; her hand trembled as she pointed at the three officials, raising her palm as if to strike. At that moment, a Daoist priest interjected, “Let’s all calm down. There’s no need for violence.”

This Daoist was an odd sight; though he wore a Taoist robe, he lacked the ethereal air of a true immortal. He was somewhat plump, with thick lips and a well-fed look.

Now, only a handful of people remained in the courtyard—others had likely found places to hide. Wang Yuanfeng seethed with silent rage. The monk among them declared, “Your quarrels are none of my concern. I only care about claiming my rightful share.”

The group began to argue and debate how to divide the spoils.

Wang Yuanhong was about to make his move when he received a secret signal from his fourth brother, a hand gesture instructing everyone to hide.

Wang Yuanfeng sneered inwardly. Did these people think this place was their playground? He felt there was little left to say to them. Since they were here for the treasure, they were his adversaries. Besides, they had trespassed in the Marquis’s estate, and the elixir had already fused with his sixth brother; taking it by force would damage his brother’s very essence, and recovery would take decades.

Though he and his brother were working inside a room with doors and windows closed and protective wards in place, he could still sense several spiritual probes sweeping over them. He didn’t believe for a moment that these people knew nothing; if someone was refining a treasure here, he’d sense it too—unless their cultivation far surpassed his.

Thus, the news could not be allowed to spread. If word got out, and others set their sights on his sixth brother, they would never know peace.

As the group continued to debate, the well-fed Daoist tried to mediate. Wang Yuanfeng slowly edged closer to the gathering. Hidden in the shadows, Xiaocui grew anxious. With a leap, she landed at Wang Yuanfeng’s side and pleaded, “Young master, it’s dangerous—don’t go any closer.”

Wang Yuanfeng grabbed her hand and whispered, “Why did you come out here?”

He had been prepared to use thunder grenades to ambush these people, but unexpectedly she had revealed herself first.

“I was just worried about you,” Xiaocui replied, her face aggrieved. She truly feared her young master would be hurt if he approached. These people were all masters, their cultivation equal to hers—especially that Daoist, whom she could not see through at all. His level was almost on par with her mother’s, so she was genuinely afraid for Wang Yuanfeng’s safety and had acted on impulse.

The arguing group paused, turning to look at Xiaocui by Wang Yuanfeng’s side. Sensing her modest cultivation, they quickly dismissed her.

But the well-fed Daoist eyed her intently and said, “Young master, your companion does not seem to be human, does she?”

Wang Yuanfeng’s heart sank. He immediately stepped in front of Xiaocui and asked, “So—have you all decided how you’ll divide the treasure?”

Xiaocui tried to speak, but her young master discreetly tugged her sleeve, signaling her to remain silent.

This small gesture could not escape the others’ notice. The old crone chuckled darkly. “Ha! So even the Marquis’s household harbors monsters.”

The three officials exchanged glances. The man in the middle said, “Interesting piece of intel. If the fourth young master surrenders the treasure, we can pretend we saw nothing. Refuse, and I’ll report this to His Majesty.”

The monk said nothing, but the Daoist spoke up, “There are good and bad demons. I have met many kind-hearted ones in my time.”

With this, everyone looked at Xiaocui with new suspicion. They all knew the Daoist’s cultivation was profound, which was why they’d held back from making a move. They themselves hadn’t realized Xiaocui was a demon, but the Daoist’s certainty left little room for doubt.

Wang Yuanfeng realized the situation was dire; he could wait no longer. His right hand settled on his sword hilt. In a flash, his blade swept out, sending a wave of sword energy at the group, catching them completely off guard. The monk at the front had his palm sliced open, black blood oozing out.

Wang Yuanfeng instantly knew something was wrong from the color of the blood, but he did not stay his hand. With another move—a sweeping technique called “Falling Bees”—he unleashed a barrage of sword qi, sending the group into confusion.

Strangely, the Daoist seemed to brush off the attack with ease, even producing a sword made of copper coins from within his robe. Wang Yuanfeng’s heart sank; the spiritual light surrounding the weapon was clearly visible. If struck by it, he would be lucky to survive. But, unexpectedly, the Daoist paused, glanced around, and quietly put the weapon away.

Wang Yuanfeng breathed a sigh of relief. Then, catching the stench of the black blood seeping from the monk’s wound, he realized at once that this was no human. He shouted, “So, you’ve already allied yourselves with monsters! No wonder you dared to invade the Marquis’s estate!”

Everyone else had caught the scent too, but now there was no going back; all eyes turned to the monk.

Concealed by his sleeve, Wang Yuanfeng flicked a pill into the crowd while they were distracted. Just as he turned, he saw Xiaocui draw her sword and prepare to attack. He quickly grabbed her by the shoulder and flung her backward, then threw himself to the ground.

A thunderous explosion shook the air, leaving Wang Yuanfeng’s ears ringing. He checked himself—his core trembled from the blast, but there was no risk of its dispersal. Still, it would be some time before he could muster his full strength again.

Turning, he saw the courtyard shrouded in dust and smoke. An arm sailed through the air toward him; he rolled aside to dodge it. Str