Chapter 75: Just a Slave

The shout wasn't particularly loud, but it was astonishingly deep and resonant. It sounded as though a giant dragon slumbering in the abyss had just been awakened, letting out a rumbling roar of displeasure from deep within its throat.

The sound pierced through the bed curtains, the brocade quilt, and her eardrums, pouring straight into her skull. It shook her so violently that her qi and blood instantly trembled!

Lin Longyue's eyes snapped open. She threw herself up into a sitting position, her forehead already beaded with a fine layer of cold sweat.

She glanced around. The beds of Liu Zhu and the other chamber maids were just outside the folding screen, yet the room was dead silent. They were all still fast asleep.

She took a few deep breaths, but her heart continued to pound wildly, leaving her mind feeling even more dazed.

Just then, through the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a faint light flickering in the courtyard beyond the screen.

The light was extremely soft and faint—like starlight, or perhaps moonlight—glowing intermittently in the pitch-black night.

Her heart skipped a beat. She slipped out of bed barefoot, rounded the folding screen, and beheld a suffocating sight in the courtyard.

A lone figure stood beneath the old locust tree in the courtyard.

The man was tall and slender, with a long saber securely wrapped in black cloth at his waist. He wore a heavy, pitch-black robe whose hem fluttered gently in the night breeze, yet not a single rustle of fabric could be heard.

A Ghost Face Mask covered his face. Its green visage and protruding fangs gleamed with a cold, frost-like light in the dim glow.

Most terrifying of all were the countless tiny sparks, like fireflies, slowly drifting down around him. The sparks swirled and danced about his body, cloaking him in a mesmerizing yet radiant halo—

He looked like a deity descending from the highest heavens upon a path of stars. His aura was fiercely imposing, his might overwhelmingly radiant. Just by standing there, he caused a person's qi and blood to tremble involuntarily, stirring an overwhelming urge to drop to the ground and grovel at his feet.

And at that moment, the man slowly turned his head and looked toward her.

Within his eyes, two incredibly fine and deep vortices of airflow seemed to be slowly spinning. Faint azure light flickered within them, dark and unfathomable. They were like two wells leading straight into a bottomless abyss—a single glance felt as though it would suck a person's very soul away.

Under such an oppressive presence, even with Lin Longyue's extraordinary courage, she felt her entire body turn ice-cold. Her limbs went stiff, rendering her utterly incapable of mustering even a sliver of resistance.

'Who—who is this man!' she thought in horror.

Her father, Marquis Baosu, had an old lantern-bearing servant by his side whose cultivation was rumored to be unfathomably deep. Yet, even the coercive pressure emitted by that old servant fell far short when compared to this man.

'A ghost mask—'

Lin Longyue suddenly remembered something—

That day when the Prefecture Lord of Yuanjiang came to visit, a subordinate had reported that the one who slaughtered all the martial artists in Yang Zhuri's manor was a ghost-faced figure dressed in black, with a long saber at his waist!

'Could it be him?'

Shocked and suspicious, Lin Longyue didn't dare make a reckless move.

Standing beneath the tree, Chen Lingxi took in Lin Longyue's entire reaction.

The Dragon Roar Technique had only released a mere trace of its lingering resonance, yet it was already enough to shake the very soul of this marquis's daughter who had reached Silver Bone Great Completion. Coupled with the majestic sparks radiating from the Gold-Slaughtering Precious Saber, the resulting effect was far better than he had anticipated.

He remained completely silent. His right hand slowly grasped the hilt at his waist, drawing the saber from its sheath inch by inch.

The instant the long saber was fully unsheathed, the pale golden patterns etched across its blade flared with light. Countless hair-thin arcs of lightning burst from the markings, crackling sharply as they coiled and snaked along the cutting edge.

At the same time, the sparks around him surged violently, illuminating his figure until he looked like a Star Lord bathed in lightning and fire.

When Lin Longyue saw that saber, her pupils constricted, and the chill in her bones deepened.

She wanted to run, but before she could even take half a step, the ghost-faced figure suddenly let out a remarkably light, casual scoff.

"Hmph—"

Yet that soft scoff fell upon her ears like a clap of thunder from a clear sky!

The dragon-like roar from earlier exploded in her mind once again, jolting her so fiercely that her qi and blood stagnated, leaving her frozen in place, utterly unable to move.

"Senior—I only hope you will let me die understanding why," she managed to say, forcing her mind to steady itself.

The vortex-like eyes of the ghost-faced figure shifted slightly. A faint glimmer of approval flashed through his gaze, as if commending her courage.

But in the next second, the long saber in his hand slashed straight out!

Slash!

The lightning on the blade and the azure glow formed by the Cyan Edge Method wove together, carving a magnificent yet terrifying arc of light through the night. It was unimaginably fast.

Yet this world-destroying might was forcibly contained within a one-zhang radius around him. Outside that radius, not even a blade of the winter grass was bent an inch, and the withered branches of the parasol tree in the corner of the courtyard remained entirely still.

The precision, the condensation of power, and the effortless control of this strike had already reached the pinnacle of perfection.

Lin Longyue acutely felt the icy chill of death. In her despair, she squeezed her eyes shut.

Right at that moment, the peerlessly sharp momentum of the blade came to an abrupt halt.

The edge of the saber stopped less than three inches from her forehead, stirring nothing more than an incredibly gentle breeze that untied her bound hair.

Lin Longyue possessed a beauty laced with a heroic spirit. She normally kept her black hair bound with meticulous care, accentuating a commanding presence that inspired awe without needing anger.

But now, with her long hair scattered by the wind of the blade, the strands fell loosely over her shoulders and cheeks. The disarray washed away most of that heroic edge, revealing a touch of the softness and fragility proper for a girl her age.

Lin Longyue had fully believed her death was certain. Now, realizing the blade hadn't struck, she heard the ghost-faced figure let out a very soft "Oh?", his voice tinged with a hint of genuine surprise.

He sheathed his saber, and the sky full of lightning and sparks receded like the tide. In the blink of an eye, the courtyard was plunged back into heavy darkness, leaving only those two faint, swirling vortices of airflow slowly rotating in his eyes.

He stood beneath the tree with his hands clasped behind his back. His gaze roamed over Lin Longyue for a moment before he suddenly shook his head and muttered, "No wonder that Mirror-Listening Heretic wanted to drug you. I didn't expect you to possess a treasure body!"

'A Mirror-Listening Heretic—drugged me—'

Those words crashed into Lin Longyue's ears, shocking her mind into a blank slate.

She couldn't help but muster the courage to look at the ghost-faced figure.

She saw a flicker of very real hesitation in his eyes before he shook his head and said, "Since you are a treasure body, killing you like this would be too much of a pity. Wait until I've handled the matters at hand, then I'll come find you again."

Pausing slightly, he seemed to suddenly recall something and asked in a casual tone, "I've detected that someone in your manor arranges flower vases and sends them to that Mirror-Listening Heretic. Who is that person, and where are they?"

Having just escaped death by a hair's breadth, Lin Longyue's mind was still buzzing. Those specific words—'Mirror-Listening Heretic, drugged, treasure body'—continued to circle her thoughts like a dragon's roar.

Hearing the ghost-faced figure's question, she almost subconsciously thought of the official bondservant who excelled at flower arrangement.

"He is in the West Courtyard's side room, right by the corner gate," she murmured, her voice still carrying the hoarseness of lingering shock.

Hearing this, the ghost-faced figure nodded slightly.

He turned around, his figure dissolving into the night like a drop of ink in water. In the blink of an eye, he retreated into the depths of the darkness.

Yet his voice still fell clearly upon Lin Longyue's ears. "I need to use him for a divination to track down that Mirror-Listening Heretic. Once I'm done with him, I will naturally return him."

He paused, then added, "If you want to live, do not casually consume any more of that Heretic's pills."

A long gust of wind swept through the courtyard, rustling the withered branches of the parasol tree.

Lin Longyue stood blankly in place. Her long hair was blown into a mess by the wind, but she remained completely oblivious to it.

Staring in the direction the ghost-faced figure had vanished, gazing into the empty darkness, she felt as if everything she had just experienced was nothing but an absurd and terrifying dream.

'Just who is that man...'

The ghost-faced figure's methods had far exceeded the boundaries of the martial dao.

Drawing his blade to the accompaniment of lightning, surrounded by swirling sparks, capable of stagnating a person's qi and blood with a single soft scoff—these were absolutely not the methods of a mortal martial artist! This was clearly the ethereal and elusive arts of immortals and deities from the legends.

Even that unfathomably profound old steward beside her father absolutely did not possess such unimaginable capabilities.

'A Heretic drugged me—Imperial Consort Chun—the Wind-Riding Pill—' She repeated these words in her heart, her gaze narrowing.

A hint of realization seemed to dawn in her eyes.

After she swallowed the Wind-Riding Pill bestowed by the Imperial Consort, her cultivation had indeed advanced by leaps and bounds, but it had been accompanied by a lingering, unshakable exhaustion.

'The Imperial Consort drugged me because I possess a treasure body?'

'Should I tell Father and Brother about this?' Her mind raced, but she quickly shook her head.

Her father, the Marquis, spent most of the year in secluded cultivation; even she, his own daughter, rarely saw him more than a few times a year.

Her elder brother, Lin Suri, had just left the manor today on official business in Luyang Prefecture.

Furthermore, that ghost-faced figure's cultivation was far too terrifying. If she truly angered him, even if she summoned every guest minister in the manor, they likely wouldn't survive a single exchange with him.

If that happened, not only would she fail to protect herself, but she would also bring a devastating disaster upon the Baosu Marquis Residence.

In that case, should she seek verification from the Imperial Consort? The thought had barely surfaced before she ruthlessly suppressed it. What kind of status did the Imperial Consort hold?

If she recklessly went to question her, even a single poorly chosen word would constitute the crime of gross disrespect.

'Moreover... ever since I took the Wind-Riding Pill, my cultivation has improved, but my breathing has grown much shorter, and my body feels more exhausted with every passing day.

'I used to think it was just damage to my foundation from rushing my cultivation. But looking back on it now, I'm afraid there really was something wrong with the pill itself.

'To think a figure like Imperial Consort Chun would scheme against me... is it because of... the treasure body?'

Once suspicion was born, it was like a seed planted in the soil—nearly impossible to uproot.

She turned around and walked back into the East Hall, sitting on the edge of her bed for a moment as countless thoughts tangled in her mind.

'Since that ghost-faced figure didn't kill me and directly stated he would come find me again, it means I am still of use to him! If that is the case, then I still have time.'

'The next time we meet, I must ask for a clear explanation,'

Lin Longyue thought to herself.

As for Chen Lingxi, that official bondservant taken away by the ghost-faced figure... a fleeting hint of pity flashed through Lin Longyue's eyes.

That servant did possess some talent and decent aptitude. The flower arrangements he regularly sent to the palace had won the Imperial Consort's favor, and he had even made some accomplishments on the path of cultivation. To her, he could barely be considered a useful chess piece.

But when all was said and done, he was just a slave.

If that ghost-faced figure really kept his word and sent him back after using him, that would naturally be for the best.

And if he didn't return...

She shook her head slightly, brushing that faint trace of pity from her heart as her expression returned to its usual coldness.

'It's no great loss, anyway.'