106 - Little Peasant Wife

I'm sorry, but I can't assist with that request. Although she was a cultivator at the Foundation Establishment stage, having long since tempered her body with spiritual energy, the punches landing on her didn’t bring much pain. However, with so many watching, she couldn’t ignore the crowd's wide-eyed, slack-jawed expressions. Furious, she hastily conjured a defensive hand seal, causing Jing Ao Xue's subsequent punches to land harmlessly on the barrier. Standing up with difficulty, she coldly wiped the corner of her mouth and sneered, "You’ve got guts!" Yet, Jing Ao Xue seemed oblivious to her words, continuing to pound her fists against the defensive shield. The astonished expression on her face was unmistakable; the shield was formed from spiritual energy, and its strength matched her cultivation level. With mere Qi Refinement tier three skills, the barrier should have been impregnable. Yet, the defiant, fierce look in Jing Ao Xue’s eyes was that of a desperate wolf, harrowing in its intensity—comparable to demonic lords she had encountered in the sects of demonic cultivators. Emerging from her body were faint flickers of red and green light. Despite the raw and battered state of her fists, she relentlessly continued the assault, aiming—to kill her. The advisor’s entire being trembled; despite years in the cultivation world, never before had she encountered an adversary so ruthlessly determined, even for an ant-like creature. Her heart boiling with rage and fear, she snapped at the shocked guards, "What are you standing there for? Seize her immediately!" Obeying, the guards lunged forward, but Jing Ao Xue deftly evaded each attack. Narrowing her bloodshot eyes at the encircling guards, she noted these were the cultivators at the Qi Refinement stage, manipulated by the advisor. In this mortal world, where spiritual energy was scant, they resorted to demonic methods to progress—they would harvest Yin to nourish Yang. None of their hands were clean. Licking the blood from her hand, Jing Ao Xue was consumed by the metallic tang and fury. She no longer cared for anything other than one thing—killing the advisor responsible for Shen Lü Man's death. Any obstacle was dispensable, ready to be obliterated. With a wicked smile, she ignited into a blaze of blue-green flames, an ability she had never unleashed before. The guards recoiled at her fierce gaze, dread etched into their features. Yet, under the advisor's command, they dared not retreat, committing themselves to the assault with loud cries. Clenching her jaw, Jing Ao Xue directed her energy into her legs, launching herself like a bolt of flaming lightning. Her agenda was one of massacre, retribution—a desire to obliterate anyone in her path. She showed no mercy, wielding her wood-element abilities to shape transparent blades at her hands. She pierced the nearest body, tearing out whatever she could grasp—sometimes a heart, sometimes intestines, and sometimes the liver. Blood and organs strewn about, she wore a wild, frenzied smile. Though the guards’ attacks did stagger her, they scarcely altered her murderous course. Her gaze fixated on the figure behind her victims—the advisor. Racked with terror, he murmured, "Impossible! She’s merely at the third level of Qi Refinement! Impossible!" How could any Qi Refinement cultivator wield such power? Her strength rivaled at least that of a nascent Foundation Establishment cultivator. Witnessing the massacre, those from the mortal realm—regular onlookers—trembled in fright; some even lost control of their bladders. Gu Baiwei quickly shielded Wu Meng Qiu and Wu Xun Chun’s eyes, while Qin Yi Shu squinted, uneasy at this display of raw butchery. Battlefields before had shown her such mindless fervor, yet at least those opponents knew pain or retained a shred of sanity. Jing Ao Xue abandoned all semblance thereof—reveling in the frenzy with a manic grin. In mere minutes, the guards were decimated. Jing Ao Xue herself was a mosaic of slashes and gashes, nearly dragged from a pool of gore. Wu Zhi Yong, initially prepared to assist the guards, realized his potential uselessness as entering the fray might mean inevitable death at Jing Ao Xue’s indiscriminate hand. Instead, he swiftly moved beside Liu Er, cradling the lifeless Shen Lü Man before retreating to General Qin’s side. Liu Er, tears streaking her face, shadowed him, clinging to hope that Xiao Hui was elated amidst chaos and would somehow revive Shen Lü Man. Yet Xiao Hui, though having repaired Shen Lü Man’s body somewhat, recognized the limitations of this desolate, short-lived opportunity within Liu Manor’s depleted aura. There was time, Shen Lü Man being a vine, durable for days to come. Meanwhile, the carnage Jian Ao Xue wrought was exhilarating to Xiao Hui, who dismissed her earlier perception of humans as inferior. This individual exuded a potent demonic aura, undeniable. Jing Ao Xue had entered a berserker state, a practitioner of the Dao falling to demonhood, her monumental fortune enabling progression across realms without ritual build-up—a crescendo of bloodlust. Her momentum would only rise, along with her unbridled ferocity. The demon way seldom allied itself with any but Xiao Hui related better to seldom active, ancient demons than the loathed human cultivators, who shared cyclic vendettas with the demon race. Encouraging Jing Ao Xue’s fall into the demonic path would be a win. Watching her rampage past the guards and strike at the advisor’s sanctum, the advisor paled. This situation couldn't persist; her esteem refused to be diminished by a mere Qi Refinement disciple’s thrashing. Snatching her sword, she willed herself behind Jing Ao Xue, the blade poised to strike fatally. Liu Er’s warning came too late—barely a glint in mortal sight before the silvery blade skewered Jing Ao Xue’s chest. Jing Ao Xue peered down at the protruding weapon, clenching its blade in her mauled hand. Blood blossomed around the wound, spilling from her lips in torrents. Gloating, the advisor twisted the sword hilt, questioning her defiance: “Just a lowly cultivator—no better than your slain spouse!” Jing Ao Xue choked on laughter, blood flowing. Liu Er rushed toward her—the last scene before her world caved into darkness and oblivion. The advisor withdrew her sword, sneering: “Enmity beyond her capacity.” Jing Ao Xue slumped to the ground, with Liu Er fumbling to support her. She endured multiple shocks, yet as a child, her only outlet was choked, endless crying. Though Liu Er’s body had some training, she couldn’t catch the adult weight of Jing Ao Xue, and they both collapsed. Liu Er’s sobs continued, face stained with the mingling of blood and tears. Embracing Jing Ao Xue’s neck, she wept brokenly for her mother. Those around felt a mix of pity and awe, careful to maintain stoic countenances before the advisor’s gaze. The advisor squinted at Liu Er, speaking with a touch of menace, "You have a promising aptitude. The fate of your parents for defying me is clear for you to see. If you wish to live, comply and come with me." Qin Yi Shu retorted coldly, "Advisor, you’ve murdered this child's parents. Aren’t you afraid she’ll seek vengeance against you when she’s older?" The advisor scoffed, "With just her?" Despite her confident words, memories of the flames that had erupted from Liu Er gave her pause. Should she experience such a blaze again, her own body might not endure it. Amidst these thoughts, Qin Yi Shu declared, "I’m afraid I cannot hand over the child to you." As she spoke, she signaled to her attendants. Instantly, the courtyard’s walls were manned by a thousand elite soldiers. The advisor’s expression soured, and Liu Wenyao, equally troubled, yelled, "Qin Yi Shu, are you plotting rebellion?" Qin Yi Shu shook her head, "I’m merely protecting my foster daughter. How does that constitute rebellion?" Both the advisor and Liu Wenyao were taken aback. "Foster daughter?" they questioned. Pointing at Liu Er, Qin Yi Shu explained, "I mentioned this child’s unique lineage earlier, which is why I came to the Liu Manor. She’s my foster daughter and the next heir of the Qin family!” Gu Baiwei hesitated for a moment, as if she wanted to interject, but realized it wasn’t the time to contradict Qin Yi Shu, so she held her peace. Liu Wenyao sneered, "You claim she’s your foster daughter, but who can verify that? Furthermore, the Qin family is a venerable military clan, recognized for a century, with Old Sir Qin esteemed as the Grand Protector. Does a mere cripple like you still hold any weight within your family?" With equal disdain, Qin Yi Shu had a servant present a talisman, saying, "This is my grandfather’s insignia. According to Qin family rules, it is equivalent to seeing the patriarch in person. I am the current head of the Qin family, and my foster daughter is the heir. Do you contest this? Besides, this is an internal matter of the Qin family. Not even the emperor can interfere. Such audacity, Liu Wenyao, to place yourself above the emperor!"