The Purpose of Huang Feiyu

"Boom..."

The dark clouds hung oppressively low, the thunder rumbled so close it seemed to echo right beside the ears. Lightning split the sky overhead, striking between two mountain peaks and landing in the valley below.

The wind drove the heavy rain against Tian Wenjin's face, stinging like needles.

Opposite her, the Lion Heart Flame surged upward—the very flame for which she had once taken on sect missions, earning Spirit Stone by Spirit Stone to repay her debts. And within those flames stood the man whose life she had saved, carrying him on her back as she begged throughout the entire sect, sacrificing every shred of dignity.

Now, that same man wielded the Lion Heart Flame to kill her.

The rain was too heavy, the flames too fierce. They clashed, sending up a vast, misty steam that blurred her vision.

She closed her eyes.

"Zzzzt..."

The Imperial Thunder Sword left its sheath!

With all her strength, she channeled every ounce of hatred she had accumulated over the years, all the love she had once foolishly given, every drop of regret—she poured it all into this single strike!

The heavens responded. Thunderbolts were drawn to her sword's energy, merging with her blade...

"BOOM!"

Huang Feiyu, now a figure wreathed in flames, was split in two.

She exhaled softly and opened her eyes—only to see the two halves of fire reforming, barely pausing before surging toward her once more.

"Wenjin! Take a good look at what I've become—all thanks to you!"

The fiery figure bared its teeth like a demonic nightmare, lunging at her.

"Zzzzt..."

Electricity crackled across Tian Wenjin's drenched body as she prepared to evade Huang Feiyu's attack.

But just then, the surrounding spiritual energy was abruptly constrained by some unnatural force, pressing in on her from all sides. It felt as though the very world had turned against her, leaving her momentarily paralyzed.

Huang Feiyu moved with terrifying speed. She barely managed to raise her sword in defense—

"CRASH!"

The flaming figure struck her with devastating force, sending her crashing through two trees before she landed heavily in the muddy undergrowth, sinking half a foot into the earth before the momentum dissipated.

The impact reignited old injuries. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, quickly washed away by the rain and lost in the mud.

From above, the fiery figure loomed over her in the downpour, grinning grotesquely.

"Wenjin, my beloved Wenjin... will you join me at the Lingnan Immortal Sect?"

Tian Wenjin said nothing. She rose from the ground, sword still raised toward him.

"Silence means consent!" Huang Feiyu cackled.

"HAHAHA—"

He lunged again, intent on finishing her off.

But then—

"HUMMM!"

A terrifying sword intent suddenly manifested in the storm, locking onto Huang Feiyu with unerring precision.

The sheer pressure of it alone seemed on the verge of extinguishing his flames. Startled, Huang Feiyu halted mid-air, looking up toward the source of the sword intent.

Through the rain, a sword—black and white, starkly distinct—slowly ascended from the mists of Dan Peak. It rose higher and higher, stopping at the very center of the Dao Sword Sect's sky, where it hovered, rotating lazily.

The Mountain and River Sword!

Lu Junxing's Mountain and River Sword!

Ever since Lu Junxing had placed it above the sect, the sword had become a symbol of the Dao Sword Sect.

Now, it had returned to its rightful place.

Beyond serving as a training ground for sword cultivators to hone their techniques, the Mountain and River Sword had another purpose...

A single blade to intimidate all who dared oppose.

And who, in this moment, was the one daring to oppose?

Huang Feiyu.

"In recognition of your service in defending the sect, no punishment will be meted out for this incident," the voice of Dan Peak's elder rang out. "You are hereby ordered to return to the Lingnan Immortal Sect at once!"

The flames around Huang Feiyu gradually dimmed beneath the relentless rain, revealing once more the handsome, gentle-faced man beneath.

He glanced warily at the Mountain and River Sword in the sky, uncertain whether Lu Junxing still had the strength to unleash its full power. Reluctantly, he bowed toward Dan Peak.

"This disciple obeys!"

With that, he cast a final, inscrutable look at Tian Wenjin—eyes and lips curled in a smile that held no warmth—before leaping into the air. In moments, he had vanished beyond the sect's borders, swallowed by the storm.

Watching Huang Feiyu leave without hesitation yet again, Tian Wenjin wiped the rain from her face, her expression unreadable. She sheathed her sword with a practiced motion.

"Wenjin, come to the Pavilion in the Middle of the Lake at Sword Washing Lake." Qin Ran's voice reached her ears, gentle but firm.

Beneath the torrential downpour, two fishermen stubbornly remained at their posts in the lakeside pavilion.

The fish were biting like mad—asking them to pack up now would be nothing short of sacrilege.

"Little Uncle, with your usual scheming nature, you just let him go like that?" Lu Junxing asked, baffled. "You didn’t set up any contingencies?"

"Can you still lift your sword? Or can I suddenly summon a Soul Transformation elder from the sect? Better to shoo him away now than invite him to dinner," Qin Ran retorted, shooting him a sidelong glance. "That guy’s always been troublesome. Now he’s not only mentally unhinged from that flame form but also a Nascent Soul cultivator. A deranged Nascent Soul expert—if we mishandle this and he escapes, what then?"

"Fair point," Lu Junxing conceded. Just projecting his sword’s aura earlier had drained him, costing him several good catches.

"Still, I never thought Huang Feiyu would end up like this. I had high hopes for him back then. To return and hear such grim news..."

"And to think he actually benefited from it, joining the Lingnan Immortal Sect. Some say you gave him the Immortal Invitation. True or false? Where’d you even get one?"

"Mine came from a Lingnan disciple named Su Changqing. If you’d returned sooner, you might’ve tasted defeat at his hands. Pity."

"Now that’s a real shame," Lu Junxing sighed. He truly longed for a worthy opponent.

The more undefeated one was, the harder it was to accept loss—both mentally and physically. For someone like him, defeat could mean more than just wounded pride. It could mean death.

Such was the price of being the strongest swordsman.

Qin Ran’s thoughts drifted to Su Changqing—the most prodigious talent he’d ever encountered, surpassing even Lu Junxing.

He remembered the fireworks in the snow, remembered Su Changqing’s death.

Su Changqing had fallen stopping the Devouring Demon Willow, an act that couldn’t be blamed on the Dao Sword Sect. Yet Qin Ran knew their reputation in the eyes of the Lingnan Immortal Sect was far from stellar. That they hadn’t already crushed this "ant" of a sect was likely due to Bai Ruoxi’s intervention.

But if Huang Feiyu returned and stirred the pot...

"The Lingnan Immortal Sect," he muttered. "If we couldn’t kill him cleanly, then driving him away was the next best option."

They fished in silence for a while longer before Tian Wenjin arrived at the pavilion, bowing respectfully.

"Uncle, what did you need?"

Qin Ran studied her. Her face was as cold and unyielding as ever, showing no trace of Huang Feiyu’s impact.

He sighed inwardly but kept his expression neutral. This resilient woman needed no pity.

"What was Huang Feiyu trying to accomplish?" he asked.

Truthfully, he had no idea. With so many matters demanding his attention, why waste thought on Huang Feiyu? His timely intervention earlier had only been possible because Lu Junxing sensed trouble and used the Mountain and River Sword as a warning—Qin Ran had merely followed up.

"He said that with his status as a new disciple of the Lingnan Immortal Sect, he could bring three Dao Sword Sect cultivators into the sect, using this as bait to lure people in. I don’t know exactly what for, but one thing’s certain—it’s not for joining the sect. It’s for something far more sinister," Tian Wenjin replied.

"Free entry? The Lingnan Immortal Sect? Sinister?" Qin Ran chewed over the combination of these words, savoring their implications.

The more he pondered, the more he sensed a familiar yet unsettling undertone.

"Pyramid scheme? Ponzi scheme? Slave labor? Black-market recruitment?!"

"Junior Uncle, what are you thinking?" Lu Junxing promptly asked.

"A sect isn’t just made up of the sect leader, masters, and disciples," Qin Ran explained. "Beyond the lofty cultivators, there are those beneath—servants, slaves, medicine testers, sword testers, cultivation cauldrons, and so on.

"Take medicine testers, for example. If an alchemist concocts a new pill and needs someone to test it, the best candidates are these testers. If the pill is good, the tester might survive and even gain some benefits. But if the pill is flawed, the tester could die on the spot.

"The same goes for sword testers. If a master’s new blade or technique goes awry, the tester might perish in an instant.

"These are expendables. A massive sect like the Lingnan Immortal Sect—how many expendables do they need every year? And where do they get them?"

Tian Wenjin and Lu Junxing fell silent at his words. Even when practicing swordsmanship, they couldn’t afford sword testers. But the Lingnan Immortal Sect certainly could—and high-quality ones at that.

"How many people has he contacted?" Qin Ran asked Tian Wenjin.

Lu Junxing looked at him like he was an idiot. "He said three, didn’t he?"

Qin Ran returned the same look.

"I’ve seen him reach out to seven," Tian Wenjin said. "Including those I haven’t witnessed, at least ten."

Lu Junxing’s jaw dropped.

Qin Ran patted his shoulder and sighed. "Thank the heavens your talent is monstrous, or Huang Feiyu might’ve sold you off too… and you’d probably be counting his money for him."

After teasing Lu Junxing, he turned serious and said to Tian Wenjin, "Notify the sect leader to arrest them. Detain the seven we know of first, then seal off the Dao Sword Sect’s perimeter. Under no circumstances should Huang Feiyu take a single person away."

"Yes, Junior Uncle!" Tian Wenjin bowed and left.

"This is all your fault for holding back!" Qin Ran shook his head at Lu Junxing, chiding him for his lack of resolve. "One slash to finish him, then report to the Lingnan Immortal Sect that he died in battle—no fuss, no mess."

"If you’re so tough, why don’t you do it yourself?" Lu Junxing shot back. "Give me two jugs of wine, and I’ll chop down not just Huang Feiyu but the entire Lingnan Immortal Sect for you."

"Ever seen Jim Carrey’s The Mask?" If Lu Junxing had, Qin Ran would’ve dropped to his knees and called him grandpa—no lesser title would suffice to express his awe. "Right now, you’re leaking like a sieve. Drink wine, and it’ll spurt out from every pore. I guarantee that’s exactly what’ll happen."

Lu Junxing didn’t quite understand but was impressed nonetheless. He stared at Qin Ran, then stretched out his hand. "Really? I don’t believe it. Let me try…"