“This Daoist friend, don’t be impulsive. If you have any demands, you can state them.”
With a hostage in his hands, the Nascent Soul Cultivator dared not act recklessly.
“I am a friend of Qin Luan—my name is Huang Li! I heard your Long Clan wants to harm him. I don’t have many abilities, but I don’t care about my life. Whoever bullies my friend, I’ll kill him!”
Jiang Li’s tone was savage; anyone could tell at a glance that he was a death-seeking wanderer. The Nascent Soul Cultivator cursed inwardly. This man’s aura was clearly that of one whose Golden Core was full—his core had reached the top grade.
How could a person like that not care for his life? But he didn’t dare to gamble, and could only allow Jiang Li to state his terms.
“You will compensate my brother Qin Luan with ten pieces of high-grade spirit stones!”
“Ten pieces?! Impossible!”
The Nascent Soul Cultivator denied it outright, not even fearing that Jiang Li might kill someone. Jiang Li smiled coldly.
“All of you big aristocratic families give your juniors a Death Substitution Talisman, right? It can save a life, but it can’t save one from pain.”
He casually snapped one of Long Sanshui’s fingers. The pampered Long Sanshui had never suffered before; he immediately howled in pain, tears streaming down his face as he wailed miserably. No one present felt even a bit of pity for him.
On the contrary, they all felt satisfied. Long Sanshui had committed countless evil deeds—violating good women, ruining families, causing untold disaster. Today, retribution had finally come.
Serves him right! Jiang Li found the dangling finger unpleasant to look at, so for neatness’ sake, he used his dagger to slice it off. He then said with exaggerated patience, “Does this Nascent Soul Master think the Third Young Master of the Long Clan isn’t worth that much?
Look, he’s crippled now, so I’ll only ask for nine pieces of high-grade spirit stones.”
“If that still feels too expensive… well, the young master still has nine fingers and ten toes.”
Jiang Li grinned ferociously.
“Master, tell me, how many spirit stones will you offer? Five high-grade stones? Or one?”
“If you really have a grudge against the Long Clan, just say so! I’ll settle your revenge for you—none of this young master’s fingers or toes will remain!”
The Nascent Soul Retainer cursed inwardly: it’s not that I hate the Long Clan—it’s that you hate me!
“Pay him! It’s just ten high-grade spirit stones!”
Long Sanshui shouted angrily, thinking that the attendant sent by his father was useless—so hesitant that he had actually allowed one of his master’s fingers to be broken. When he got back, he would definitely ask the old patriarch to kill this idiot!
Fool!
This Huang Li was obviously asking sky-high prices. If such ridiculous demands were agreed to, he would certainly continue to raise more! It’s just a broken finger.
One pill can regrow it. Why the screaming?
“Fine! Here are ten high-grade spirit stones!”
The Nascent Soul Retainer threw a spirit stone pouch to the ground, hoping Jiang Li would bend down to pick it up. Jiang Li didn’t even glance at it. He said calmly, “Swear to the Heavenly Dao that you won’t attack us and will let us leave the city.”
Long Sanshui and the Nascent Soul Retainer sneered inwardly. Not attack you? We’ve already issued a bounty on you at the Heavenly Slaughter Pavilion.
Let’s see how long you can survive! But on the surface, both obediently made their vows. Jiang Li then picked up the spirit stone pouch, confirmed there were indeed ten high-grade spirit stones inside, and only then released Long Sanshui.
Long Sanshui hid behind the retainer, glaring at Jiang Li with resentment so thick it almost dripped from his eyes. Jiang Li ignored him completely and walked over to rejoin Qin Luan and Song Ying in the distance.
“So… we can just leave like this?”
Qin Luan was stunned by Jiang Li’s actions. He hadn’t imagined such an extreme, violent solution. Song Ying too hadn’t expected that this protector of the Nine Provinces would have such a ferocious side.
“When I was still in the Golden Core Stage, I did a lot of things like this,” Jiang Li said with an easy smile, completely unconcerned, as though nothing he’d done was shameful at all.
“It’s only in the last few hundred years, after getting stronger, that I’ve restrained myself somewhat.”
“But it’s not over yet. We haven’t truly dealt with the Long Clan.”
He then led the two to the City Lord’s Mansion. There, he produced the spirit stone pouch he had just received and a letter, handing them both to the gate guards, instructing them only to deliver the letter to the City Lord. As for the spirit stones, Jiang Li didn’t say anything more, and the guards immediately understood.
Each guard took one high-grade spirit stone for himself, handing the rest to the steward, who would deliver the letter to the City Lord.
“Aren’t you afraid they’ll just take the stones and not deliver the message?”
Song Ying asked, puzzled. In the Great Zhou Imperial Dynasty, such casual bribery was unthinkable.
“I brought out high-grade spirit stones—that alone shows I possess a certain identity, someone who can contact those up top. If the steward hears of this bribery later and realizes he didn’t get any spirit stones himself, he’ll make trouble for those two guards. They wouldn’t dare take the risk. Greedy, yes—but not stupid.”
“What did you write in the letter?”
Jiang Li drew out a dagger.
“This blade is coated in a toxin—not deadly, but extremely unpleasant. It seeps into the meridians like maggots gnawing on bones, making a man itch all over, tearing at his own skin without realizing it. It only works on those beneath the Foundation Establishment Stage, though with solid fundamentals, one can expel it by oneself.”
Seeing Qin Luan and Song Ying tense up at the description, Jiang Li waved to reassure them.
“The point is, there is no medicinal antidote. The only way to cleanse it is by scanning one’s own body with Divine Sense, removing it bit by bit. But the precision required is beyond a Nascent Soul; only a Spirit Transformation cultivator can do it.”
Song Ying frowned slightly.
“Will the Long Clan’s patriarch really bother with such a small matter?”
“Among the three sons of the Long Clan, have you ever heard of the eldest and second committing such atrocities?”
“It’s said they rarely do,” she replied.
“They’re busy cultivating and have no time for wicked nonsense. Long Sanshui, as the youngest, has been spoiled rotten by his parents. So when his father, the clan head, sees him suffer, he’ll kowtow until his forehead bleeds and plead for help from the clan’s old ancestor. That’s only natural, right?”
Jiang Li said matter-of-factly.
“To dispel this poison, a Spirit Transformation cultivator must devote full attention to it—no distractions allowed. Otherwise, it’ll backfire. Recovery is fast, but that moment of weakness is fatal.”
He smiled faintly.
“So, in the letter, I told the City Lord to find a way to disturb the old ancestor during that process—catch the moment of backlash, and kill him.”
Song Ying looked at him in surprise.
“Will the City Lord really do that?”
“I smeared a little of that toxin on the envelope,” Jiang Li said casually.
“We’ll soon know if he takes the bait.”
“As a Spirit Transformation stage City Lord, he should command wind and rain in this city. But because the Long Clan sits here too, it’s a thorn in his side. Two tigers cannot share one mountain, and two Spirit Transformation cultivators cannot share one city. If I give him this opportunity—even if he suspects I’m tricking him—he loses nothing by trying. It’s a sure win. No loss. No reason to refuse.”
“Although the poison normally has a latent period of more than ten days, Long Sanshui’s reaction will come early. If nothing unexpected happens, by tonight, we’ll see two Spirit Transformation experts fight.”
Qin Luan’s heart stirred, following the line of reasoning.
“Because he’ll take a blood‑revitalizing pill to regrow his finger, accelerating the poison?”
Jiang Li looked at him, amused.
“For once, you’re clever.”
He took Qin Luan and Song Ying to a tall tavern with the best view of the city and summoned Yuan Wuxing to join them, ready to enjoy the show. A booming voice shook Dragon Chant City.
“Old Dragon Head! I apologize for this late‑night visit, but I must intrude!”
At the same time, assassins of the Heavenly Slaughter Pavilion encircled the four from the shadows. Thanks to the book friend “Seemingly Clear Yet Vague” for the monthly ticket support.
(End of Chapter)