Chapter 18: Turning the Tables

Clang!
Clang!
Hu Yan swung her sword and deflected two arrows, her arm tingling with fatigue. She frowned and sent a message to Qin Yue: “I’ll cover you, run!”
Even as she spoke, two more arrows flew toward them; Hu Yan cleaved them aside once again.
The dozen or so assailants, seeing this, closed in for the kill.
Hu Yan had no time to employ her Falling Leaves sword technique; she twirled her blade, gritted her teeth, and her aura abruptly shifted, unleashing a sharp, fierce sword intent.
A storm whipped up around her, sword energy slicing through the air, shattering grass and trees. The surrounding members of the Silver Eagle Gang scattered, wary of approaching.
“Run!”
Unconcerned with propriety, Hu Yan grabbed Qin Yue’s wrist and, with a burst of force, launched forward at terrifying speed.
Qin Yue hadn’t truly intended to flee; as the group charged, he felt he could fight them.
He could go all out—he didn’t necessarily need his senior sister.
But it was clear Hu Yan didn’t believe he had such ability.
After a brief consideration, Qin Yue, not wanting to reveal too much of his strength, obediently allowed her to drag him along.
Yet, he subtly guided Hu Yan toward a weak point in their encirclement, making it look dangerous—two blades, sizzling with energy, slashed close by him.
But Qin Yue was unfazed; after cultivating the Nether Escape technique for so long, avoiding such attacks was effortless.
Chang Jun didn’t attack immediately. He chose to observe the pair’s abilities, then flashed a confident smile as they broke through: “Go after them. They won’t escape!”
Someone at his side asked, “Deputy Leader, if we kill this kid, won’t we offend Lady Xingyao?”
Before Chang Jun could reply, another sneered, “Lady Xingyao is a businesswoman—she trades with anyone who visits her manor. She doesn’t even know their names... ‘distinguished guests’.”
Chang Jun laughed heartily. “Exactly, unknown guests. This kid sold a package of ice-field mouse pelts, which saves us a lot of trouble.”
“Haha, right—first deal as soon as we entered, got paid in silver notes, it’s perfect!”
One man pulled a hawk from his pocket and released it into the sky. The rest weren’t in a hurry, trailing leisurely behind.
Two rookies running wild in the primeval forest wouldn’t last long—their stamina would soon be spent, and then they’d be at their mercy.
...
Hu Yan, with Qin Yue in tow, raced through the dense woods, covering seven or eight miles in the blink of an eye. Despite her cultivation, carrying someone while running took a heavy toll.
Sweat soaked her hair, trickling down her face.
Hearing nothing behind them, she finally released Qin Yue’s wrist and paused, slightly out of breath.
“Senior sister, why did we run?” Qin Yue asked.
“Isn’t it obvious? If we didn’t run, we’d—huh?”
Only then did Hu Yan notice her junior brother, calm and composed, as if nothing had happened.
She was surprised. “Why aren’t you sweating? I’m exhausted!”
Qin Yue: “…”
Just then, an eagle’s cry echoed from above the canopy.
Both looked up; through the thick leaves, an eagle was circling overhead. Soon, sounds came from not far away.
“You go, I’ll hold them off!” Hu Yan decided instantly.
“Why?” Qin Yue asked, puzzled.
His senior sister had been helping him from the moment they met—even if he were truly a disciple of the Zhao Yang Sect, she wasn’t.
“No time to explain. I won’t harm you—just go. If we meet again, I’ll tell you!”
As she spoke, she took out a small bottle, poured out a pill, and prepared to swallow it.
Obviously a stimulant to boost her state; Qin Yue pressed her hand, looking at her: “I want to hear it later.”
As he spoke, his figure seemed to become transparent, vanishing beneath Hu Yan’s gaze.
Hu Yan stood frozen, the open pill bottle still in her hand, her beautiful eyes filled with confusion.

“Didn’t they say that newbies in the martial world were inexperienced and weak, so I had to protect and guide them? Who’s guiding whom?”
...
The moment Qin Yue used his Nether Escape technique, the eagle above lost its target—only Hu Yan remained, so it circled above her.
The Silver Eagle Gang member in the lead, a sturdy man in his thirties with fifth-level energy cultivation, was a skilled fighter.
He actually looked down on the Lu clan’s three prodigies and paid little attention to Hu Yan and Qin Yue. But he wasn’t reckless; he waited until two companions caught up before advancing.
The gang’s rule was simple: whoever claimed the first kill got the biggest share.
That package of ice-field mouse pelts was worth thousands of silver—kill the targets, and hundreds of silver would be theirs.
He was just thinking this when his vision blurred, as if a figure appeared. The next moment, his throat went cold.
Before he could react, a wave of dizziness and weakness swept over him, darkness closed in, and he collapsed.
The two beside him fell just the same, their deaths coming without warning.
It all happened so fast—the three died silently, and the other Silver Eagle Gang members had no idea a threat was lurking. They were still basking in the joy of their fresh profits.
The forest was dense, and the group was scattered, trees blocking their view—giving Qin Yue ample opportunity to strike.
With the ghostly Nether Escape technique and deadly skills, in this terrain, he was like the reaper, coldly harvesting evil lives.
It was only now, after suffering from Feng Qianning’s blow, that Qin Yue finally shed his self-perception as a weakling.
Yet it was precisely because of that demonic sect saintess that he understood his place.
To wander the martial world as a rogue cultivator was enough; counting his practice time, he could even be called a genius among them.
But in a world of powerful sects and monstrous beasts, he had a long way to go before reaching the top.
Qin Yue quietly used his earth-escape skill, ambushing each in turn. Against these energy cultivators, it was a complete mismatch.
When Chang Jun and his three companions at the rear finally sensed something was wrong, their dozen-strong team had dwindled to just a few.
“Deputy... Deputy Leader, something feels off,” someone said, pale-faced.
Although they followed the hawk’s silent guidance, as skilled warriors, their basic instincts remained sharp.
Chang Jun stopped abruptly, face grim, brows furrowed, and the others alertly scanned the surroundings.
Suddenly!
Chang Jun let out a horrific scream.
But in the next instant, the cry was cut short; he clutched his groin, his triangular eyes wide in shock.
His manhood was destroyed!
Terror and despair came in a flash, then Qin Yue emerged from the earth and slit his throat.
After repeatedly expending his spiritual power, Qin Yue finally showed signs of fatigue.
The remaining three, seeing their deputy killed without even glimpsing the attacker, were terrified and fled in different directions.
Swish!
A sword flash, and a head flew high.
The last two ran faster, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
Qin Yue wiped sweat from his brow. “Senior sister, excellent skill!”
Hu Yan looked at Qin Yue with a complicated expression. “Junior brother, you’re even better!”
They met each other’s eyes, then both laughed.
Qin Yue: “Let’s bury them and collect the spoils.”
Hu Yan: “Agreed.”
A stick of incense later, the deep primeval forest returned to silence, as if nothing had happened. Mother Nature is forgiving; she covers both good and ill.
Hu Yan counted the silver notes, handing most to Qin Yue, muttering, “Too bad two got away.”
Qin Yue: “Not bad, sister.”
Hu Yan looked up. “If I hadn’t intervened, those two wouldn’t have escaped, would they?”

Qin Yue’s face was dark. “Do you think I’m Feng Qianning?”
Hu Yan: “Well, you’re certainly not weak.”
Qin Yue examined the pills he’d found on the bodies, asking casually, “Don’t you have anything to tell me, senior sister?”
Hu Yan glanced at him. “Junior brother, you probably don’t even know which direction the Zhao Yang Sect’s gate faces, do you?”
“East!” Qin Yue didn’t even look up.
His master had spent years there; he might not know too many secrets, but he was intimately familiar with the basics.
“On the contrary, sister, you don’t know the Falling Leaves Sword technique, nor how many outer disciples there are, right?”
“The main branch has over seven thousand. Counting regional branches, outer disciples exceed thirty-five thousand.” Hu Yan rolled her eyes.
“Senior sister, you truly are a standout among Zhao Yang disciples.”
“We’re about equal, really.”
A long silence, then Hu Yan spoke first. “Hu Jiu Yan, disciple of the Heavenly Net Sect.”
Even though Qin Yue had guessed her identity, he was still a bit surprised. “The Jin Dynasty’s Anti-Theft Division?”
Hu Jiu Yan curled her lips. “Isn’t a demon sect disciple allowed to be an official? Besides, the ‘demon sect’ label was forced on us. We call ourselves the Sacred Sect! Do I look like a demoness to you?”
Qin Yue shook his head. “Not at all—you’re righteous and responsible, more like a heroine!”
Hu Jiu Yan was delighted, her eyes full of joy. “Really?”
Qin Yue nodded. “But your saintess, her conduct is... hard to describe.”
He meant no offense, just marveling at Feng Qianning’s fierce and flamboyant style—very much the demon sect enchantress.
“Others can say that about her, but you shouldn’t,” Hu Jiu Yan said, looking at Qin Yue, her tone oddly tinged with jealousy. “She cares about you deeply; despite her severe injuries, she specifically instructed us sect disciples in the north to look after you if we met…”
She gave him a gossipy look. “Hey, what’s your relationship with her, anyway? And what’s your name? You haven’t told me!”
Qin Yue hadn’t expected that Feng Qianning, that demoness, had not only told him about using Linhuang grass juice to disguise his identity, but had also asked her sect mates to look after him.
It was a big favor.
“How did you know it was me?” He wanted to know if his identity as a native of the Ice Abyss had been leaked.
“You haven’t told me your name yet!” Hu Jiu Yan was a bit annoyed—he was young, but so guarded, not even willing to share his name.
“Qin Yue.”
“Oh, Aunt Qing mentioned your appearance, and I’m from the Anti-Theft Division—I’m sensitive to these things. Most martial artists nearby, I remember their faces. When we were being chased, I recognized you at a glance, and then you pretended to be a disciple of Zhao Yang Sect, so I just played along.”
“I may not be pretending. The technique I practice is the authentic Zhao Yang signature—Beiming Swallowing Breath. You’ve seen my Falling Leaves Sword.”
“You’re not really a Zhao Yang disciple, are you?” Hu Jiu Yan was astonished.
Qin Yue smiled. “If I am, what would you do?”
Hu Jiu Yan pursed her lips. “You already call me senior sister—what else can I do? I’ll keep being your senior sister.”
In just a few days, they had twice fought side by side; the trust between them was solid—one could call them friends.
Her saintess aunt was wild and ruthless—when pursued, she attacked Zhao Yang sect’s flying ship without hesitation, and her strikes were merciless.
If Qin Yue were truly a Zhao Yang disciple, he’d surely be one of their own; otherwise, her aunt would never have asked them to take care of him.
So the demoness hadn’t revealed his secret as a native of Ice Abyss. Qin Yue pondered, stood, and brushed the dust from his clothes. “You can contact her, right? Is she safe now?”
“She’s perfectly safe.”
“Has her injury healed?”
“She says she’s fine.”
“Then let’s go—we have detective work to do!”