The farce that unfolded within the Bai Clan today was destined to remain hidden from public view. Yet the departure of certain Bai Clan members from Spiritridge City did not go unnoticed.
Beneath the surface, the undercurrents surged more violently than ever. One misstep, and even the three great clans of the city could be reduced to ashes.
The one-month deadline arrived as promised.
It was now October.
The scorching heat of summer had faded, though traces of warmth still lingered. Nights had grown longer than the days, and under the high-hanging full moon, darkness was partially dispelled.
Autumn winds rustled the bamboo groves, and a faint gloom seemed to blanket all of Spiritridge City.
Until a great fire tore through the veil.
"Trouble! Trouble! Something terrible has happened!"
At the City Lord's Manor—
Wang Yu had changed into a more mature ensemble: a raven-blue fitted robe with narrow sleeves, cinched at the waist, layered beneath a flowing cloud-gray cloak that trailed to the ground—imbuing him with a quiet authority.
His silver-white hair was tied back with a crimson ribbon.
Under the moonlight, the young man held a black flute. From its hollow mouthpiece, a stream of shadowy sound flowed—sometimes melodious, sometimes piercingly harsh.
Celestial tones interwoven with demonic resonance.
The melody oscillated between extremes—at times stirring warmth, at others evoking desolation. It tugged at the heart, unsettling the soul, luring listeners into emotional disarray.
This was Wang Yu's [Heart-Control Demon Melody], now practiced with ease after his recent breakthrough in spiritual sense.
The one who burst in unannounced was Xiangxiang, one of Dreamcloud Pavilion's two Foundation Establishment cultivators.
"City Lord! City Lord! Fire Dragon Burns the Granary… outside!"
"Slow down."
Wang Yu raised a hand gently. Xiangxiang, who had been about to bow, froze mid-motion. Her cheeks flushed as she stared at him, momentarily dazed before snapping back to herself, her voice tinged with frustration.
"The Bai Clan—they're shameless! They promised to deliver their owed spirit stones today, but instead they staged a Fire Dragon Burns the Granary. Their accounting hall was completely incinerated.
"The entire front courtyard is scorched earth. They claim the heavens aren't on your side, and they have no choice but to wait for the next five-year cycle to pay."
The fire had erased all records of past profits.
No one could now calculate how much the Bai Clan had earned over the last five years. As a tax evasion tactic, it was clever.
But what they shouldn't have done—was underestimate Wang Yu's capacity for vengeance.
He had offered them a chance. They responded with mockery. So be it—he would show no mercy.
After a pause, seeing Xiangxiang hesitate, Wang Yu asked, "Besides the Bai Clan, who else burned their granary?"
"Um…"
"When I arrived, the Guan Clan's estate had gathered a crowd, but the commotion wasn't as loud. The Jiang Clan seems quiet."
"Good. I'll go out for a bit."
"Go… out?"
Xiangxiang blinked, confused.
"Aren't you worried they'll attack you?"
"Hahaha. Worried? Have you forgotten where we are? In Spiritridge City, those three clans should be praying I stay safe—not plotting my death."
With that, Wang Yu vanished into the night sky.
Xiangxiang stood alone, frowning in thought. Slowly, she pieced together the logic.
The three sects were based outside the city—he had no power over them, so he granted them generous authority. A temporary measure.
But the three clans were within the city. He could strike them without hesitation. And they wouldn't dare kill him. If the Blood Reversal Sect sent a purge squad, Spiritridge would be razed and rebuilt.
"So that's it!"
…
…
At the Bai Clan estate—
As one of Spiritridge's three great clans, the Bai Clan occupied half of the southern district. They had over a thousand Qi Refining cultivators not engaged in external duties.
Six Foundation Establishment cultivators remained, excluding the deceased clan head.
The Grand Elder was at the ninth layer, the Second Elder at the seventh, the Third Elder at the sixth, and two mid-generation cultivators at the third layer—not yet qualified as senior elders.
The younger generation had yet to produce a Foundation Establishment cultivator.
Now, staring at the scorched front courtyard, the Grand Elder finally ordered the fire extinguished. He sneered.
"A brat still wet behind the ears dares to challenge the Bai Clan?"
The other elders chimed in.
"Grand Elder, your plan was brilliant. If we don't show him some teeth, people will think we're cowards. After today, let's see who dares speak ill of us!"
"Indeed! This was necessary."
"The Bai Clan is the foremost of Spiritridge's three clans. Why should we bow to some outsider?"
Among the gathered Bai Clan disciples, some recalled how the third branch had recently left the city to reside at the ancestral estate. A sense of unease crept in.
Outside, the wide avenue—broad enough for twelve carriages side by side—was packed with curious cultivators. They watched from storefronts, balconies, rooftops.
Inside the estate—
The Grand Elder gazed deeply at his kin.
Though he had made a reckless move under the guise of "I have a plan," he wasn't a fool without connections.
Sending away the patriarch had been both a power grab and a way to preserve the clan's bloodline.
He knew Wang Yu couldn't die within Spiritridge.
If he did, the Bai Clan would be held accountable—and destroyed.
But if he couldn't be killed, he could be captured. With Wang Yu in custody, the Bai Clan could seize the true City Lord Token. With their local influence and support from Nether Spring Temple, their power would surge.
As long as they paid tribute on time, their dominance would be unmatched.
Thus, the Fire Dragon Burns the Granary was also a lure—to draw Wang Yu out of the manor.
If the Tuoba Clan could occupy the City Lord's Manor for a century, why couldn't the Bai Clan? If things got dire, they could fully align with Nether Spring Temple.
After all, Spiritridge sat on the eastern edge of Cloudridge Province, bordering You Province, the territory of Nether Spring Temple. The boundary was vague.
Today they take a few inches. Tomorrow, a few more. It was common practice.
Of course—
That was a long-term plan. For now, the Grand Elder shook his head and spread his spiritual sense wide, ready for Wang Yu's arrival.
As time passed, the crowd slowly dispersed, unable to make sense of the Bai Clan's theatrics.
The wise ones had already fled, fearing bloodshed.
At midnight—
The hour when yin energy was strongest. The moon hung high, bamboo shadows danced.
Three elders and two mid-generation cultivators remained in the courtyard. The younger disciples had retired. The night was silent—even the insects had ceased their song.
The tension was palpable.
"Woooo—"
A haunting flute melody drifted in from nowhere. The Grand Elder paced irritably in the pavilion. The others grew dizzy from his movement.
"Grand Elder, why so anxious?"
"Indeed. Whether he comes or not, our goal remains the same. No need to rush."
"Hmph."
The Grand Elder flicked his sleeve, realizing his mind was unsettled. He tried to sit, but worry gnawed at him. He kept reassuring himself.
This was an open scheme. It would succeed.
Half the midnight hour had passed. Somewhere in the estate, a faint rustling began.
Behind the window lattice, shadows flickered.
Something felt… off.
"Woooo—"
The flute grew louder, closer.
"What's going on?"
Even the most relaxed nerves now tensed. Suddenly, the Third Elder called out to a shadowy corner:
"Xuan'er? Why are you wandering so late?"
From the darkness—
A lavishly dressed youth emerged, wearing a twisted smile. His eyes glowed blood-red. His mouth was smeared with blood, and bits of flesh clung between his teeth.
The elders, all Foundation Establishment cultivators, could see clearly even in the dark. Their faces paled.
"White Xuan's condition is wrong. Look behind him!"
The Grand Elder stepped forward in a flash, knocking Xuan unconscious. He turned the corner and dragged out a pair of legs.
In that instant—
Everyone's expression changed.
"This… this is Meng'er!"
It was Bai Meng, a promising three-root talent of the younger generation. Her once-beautiful face was now deathly pale.
Her chest and abdomen had been torn open. Her organs were gone.
The Third Elder staggered, nearly fainting.
She pointed a trembling finger at Bai Xuan.
"His… his mouth… his belly…"
"Caw—caw—"
A few crows flew overhead, casting ominous shadows. The Grand Elder's face darkened to ink.
"Wang Yu. This is definitely Wang Yu's doing!"
"Damn him! He dares target our youth!"
Of course, Wang Yu was also part of the younger generation—but no one here would speak in his defense. To do so would be a sick joke.
"Quick! You two, check on the disciples.
"Second and Third Elders, activate the clan's formation. Don't let him escape. Capture him alive!"
"Yes!"
The elders sprang into action.
The Second and Third Elders rushed toward the inner sanctum to activate the Bai Clan's protective formation, while the two mid-generation cultivators darted off to check on the younger disciples.
The Grand Elder soared into the night sky, his spiritual sense sweeping across the entire estate like a net, probing every rooftop, every shadow, every breath of wind.
But he found nothing.
Wang Yu, cloaked in both Invisibility Technique and Silent Step Incantation, had long since mastered the art of concealment. From the moment he stepped onto the cultivation path, he had trained himself to vanish without a trace. Even a Core Formation cultivator might not detect him—let alone a Foundation Establishment elder.
Time ticked by.
The Grand Elder could feel it—one by one, the life signatures of the clan's disciples were vanishing.
But whenever he rushed to the scene, all he found were grotesque tableaux of internal carnage: one disciple feasting on another, the victim unmoving, eyes glazed and limbs limp. Only in the final moments, as death approached, did their dull eyes flicker with horror.
It was a nightmare of cannibalistic possession.
The barefoot madman fears not the man in boots.
The Grand Elder's heart twisted with regret.
He had calculated everything—except Wang Yu's temperament. The signs had been there from the beginning, when the young man first arrived in Spiritridge.
He had simply chosen to ignore them.
"No… no… you can't do this to me!"
As his mind teetered on the edge of madness, the voice he had longed to hear—like a divine whisper—finally reached his ears.
"Oh?"
"You have something to say?"
(End of Chapter)