Chapter Forty-Six: The Wretched Lin Zhennan

Liu Zhengfeng’s claim that he was close to death was something Yang Wenhao could understand. After all, with his wife and children all gone, he no longer had any reason to live. But when Qu Yang said he would die together with Liu Zhengfeng, Yang Wenhao was puzzled. Yet, recalling that Qu Yang was the Right Envoy of the Sun and Moon Sect and Liu Zhengfeng was of the Five Peaks Sword Sect, Yang Wenhao understood. Qu Yang most likely had no desire to die; after all, who truly wishes for death? But one’s own wishes don’t always matter when there are orders from above. There was no doubt the person behind this was Invincible East.

Yang Wenhao could only sigh, feeling nothing further. He was neither close with Liu Zhengfeng nor Qu Yang, not to the extent that he would risk himself to help them. “Today, our wishes are fulfilled and we have no regrets. May we meet again in the next life,” Liu Zhengfeng and Qu Yang smiled at each other, true companions in this final journey to the underworld.

Watching the two whose heartstrings had been severed, Yang Wenhao’s expression was calm, though Yilin at his side began to sob quietly. In truth, the moment they handed him the music score for Laughing Proudly at the World, Yang Wenhao had considered killing them. Since they were doomed anyway, he could at least gain something from their deaths. But in the end, he refrained, realizing that if he acted on such a thought, there would be no turning back. It was not just about the present or the martial world—it was his future path. Yang Wenhao was a man who wished to act with a clear conscience, so he abandoned the idea.

He turned his attention to the music score in his hand.

[Laughing Proudly at the World Score: When played with zither and flute, it calms the heart. If both instruments are played together, the effect is maximized.]

This was of great use to Yang Wenhao, so he put it away in his item space.

Yilin looked at Yang Wenhao with a pitiful expression. “Brother Yang, let’s bury the two elders.”

“Alright,” Yang Wenhao nodded slightly. In the Central Plains, burial was a custom, and this was within his means to do.

By evening, Yang Wenhao and Yilin had finished burying Liu Zhengfeng and Qu Yang. As for Fei Bin’s body, Yang Wenhao did not bother to bury it. Instead, he left it in the most conspicuous place, clearly intending for the Songshan Sect to discover it.

“Let’s go.” As night fell, Yang Wenhao led Yilin to find a place to stay. They found an inn, but just as they were about to ask for rooms, the inn’s servant hesitated.

“Don’t tell me all the rooms are full?” Yilin asked.

“No, I wish they were,” the servant replied, shaking his head. “To be honest, two strange people came here a few days ago. Every night, terrifying screams come from their room, and many guests have been scared away.”

“Didn’t anyone check on them?” Yilin asked.

“We tried,” the servant said, “but every time someone goes in, they get beaten up and thrown out. Some say they’re possessed by evil spirits—it’s dangerous.”

Yilin smiled lightly, showing no fear. “Don’t worry. Since ancient times, evil has never triumphed over good. As long as we recite Buddhist prayers diligently, nothing will happen.”

“But—” The servant tried to protest, but Yang Wenhao interrupted him.

“Enough. Just give us two rooms. Leave the rest to us.” Yang Wenhao waved his hand, leaving no room for argument.

Seeing this, the servant had no choice but to agree. “Just so you know, we won’t be responsible for anything that happens.”

“Go on, stop rambling,” Yang Wenhao shot him a look that made the servant scamper away.

Inside the inn, all was quiet—none of the screams the servant had warned of. Yang Wenhao turned to Yilin and said, “Rest first. Tomorrow I’ll escort you to reunite with Abbess Dingyi.”

“I understand, Brother Yang,” Yilin replied softly, her eyes dim as she turned into her room.

Late that night, while Yang Wenhao was meditating, sudden screams echoed from outside his room. Hearing them, he slowly opened his eyes and frowned. The servant hadn’t lied—now, deep in the night, the screams had begun. Could it really be an evil spirit?

Yang Wenhao didn’t believe it. But even if it was, he had dealt with such things before.

Stepping out of his room, he saw Yilin emerge from the room next door, frightened. Seeing Yang Wenhao, she visibly relaxed. “Brother Yang, did you hear that just now?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

Yilin pointed. “It came from that direction.”

“I’m going to check it out. Do you want to come?” he asked.

Yilin was scared, but with Yang Wenhao there, she felt reassured. After a moment’s hesitation, she decided to follow him.

Yang Wenhao warned her, “Stay behind me. Be careful. If anything happens, run.”

“Alright, you be careful too,” Yilin replied.

Yang Wenhao cautiously approached the window of the room where the screams came from and poked a small hole in the paper window. Looking inside, he was stunned.

Damn it, this wasn’t an evil spirit—it was torture and imprisonment. And the abuser was someone he’d seen before: Mu Gaofeng, who had previously rescued a young man from Yu Canghai.

“Speak! Where is the Evil-Repelling Sword Manual?” Mu Gaofeng demanded, whipping the middle-aged man before him.

The man’s upper body was bare, his bronze skin covered with fresh welts. Beside him, a middle-aged woman was bound as well—they looked like a couple.

“The Evil-Repelling Sword Manual.” Hearing this, Yang Wenhao immediately realized who they were: Lin Zhennan and his wife, Madam Wang.

The two of them, in their current state, had suffered greatly at Mu Gaofeng’s hands and were barely clinging to life.

“Ding… Plot mission triggered: Rescue Lin Zhennan and his wife. Reward: 200 points.”

“I’ve been waiting for this.”

Hearing the system’s prompt, a faint smile appeared at the corner of Yang Wenhao’s lips, and a shining silver sword appeared in his empty hand.

“Hurry up and tell me. Don’t be stubborn, or else—” Mu Gaofeng threatened, but at that moment, the door to the room was suddenly flung open.

(End of chapter)