228 - The Demon Fox Wife is a Foodie

Nonetheless, she was only of the Golden Core stage and already subdued, incapable of breaking free from his grasp as Bu Donghou held her by the collar with one hand, rendering her immobile. Bu Donghou's lips curled into a smile, coaxing, "You just need to tell me the truth. Disclose Dongfang Cixin's schemes and reveal Yan Zhao's whereabouts, and I can ensure your safety." "Otherwise, you know what happened to Yan Yuanqing, don't you? Once you're proven to have colluded with the demon tribe, no one can save you." Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Zuo Xun's struggles were futile. But since Bu Donghou only interrogated without resorting to force, even Yuanhai Zhenren, despite his disapproval, couldn't intervene. Dongfang Cixin's gaze was grave, her hands in her sleeves clenched tightly into fists. Driven to a desperate corner, Zuo Xun closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Bu Donghou's smile didn't reach his eyes; he was already confident of the interrogation's outcome. Zuo Xun's throat moved, and then she spat, "Peh!" Her spit hit Bu Donghou squarely in the face. Bu Donghou was momentarily stunned, incredulously reaching to wipe his face, feeling the dampness on his fingertips. After a brief silence, his anger erupted. He had been in his position for thousands of years, always serving others lowly, but still the head of the Fuyun Sect—how could he endure such an insult?! An inner sect disciple dared to spit in his face?! "You!" Bu Donghou grabbed Zuo Xun's hair, pulling so hard it almost tore her scalp. "You have some nerve!" Seeing this, Yuanhai Zhenren wanted to intervene, but Yundaozi blocked him. Faced with Yuanhai Zhenren's indignant gaze, Yundaozi remained calm, like an old fisherman, and said leisurely, "After all, today Fuyun Sect is dealing with a traitor. I advise you not to interfere too much." Behind Yundaozi, blood dripped from Zuo Xun's hairline. Despite the excruciating pain, her expression was twisted, but she gritted her teeth, refusing to surrender. Yuanhai Zhenren was held back by Yundaozi, and with many trembling disciples around, rash action might implicate more innocent bystanders. The festive atmosphere disappeared, and silence engulfed the plaza where thousands stood, broken only by Zuo Xun's uncontrollable cries of pain. Initially, those watching were entertained, but as the cries of agony spread, fear crept into the crowd. More and more people wanted to retreat, fearing they might get caught in the crossfire. They knew that battles between Transcendence stage experts could flatten mountains. Even the aftermath could crush these low-level onlookers to pieces. Whether Yan Zhao was Yan Yuanqing's child or had ties to the demon tribe mattered not to them. They just wished to leave. But the Fuyun Sect's barriers were sealed, allowing entry but no exit, making them slowly realize the fearsome trap they had walked into today. Zuo Xun was only the first pawn the Fuyun Sect put forward. But what if the sect decided to imprison everyone, choosing to kill wrongly rather than let any escape? Dao Ling had already wiped out several sects to create corpse puppets, and now Bu Donghou was torturing disciples. It seemed no insane act was beyond Fuyun Sect. Panic spread instantly. While Yundaozi and Yuanhai Zhenren faced off, Ying Xiao discreetly observed the crowded plaza. Fear was spreading; once Yundaozi's plan succeeded, it was only a matter of time before the hidden rat revealed itself. Bu Donghou raised his hand for another slap. Just as it was about to land, a whizzing sound pierced the air—a projectile shot towards his hand. Bu Donghou's hand turned into a claw. With a "ding," he caught the hidden dart between two fingers. The sudden attack, launched from the crowd, left Fuyun Sect disciples, elders, and even onlookers momentarily stunned before they all turned their heads in unison. Especially the disciples of Huangyin Peak, who stared as if they had seen a ghost at a figure standing up at the back of their ranks. The person stood, holding a cloth bundle, removing a mask from her face and shedding the clothes of a Huangyin Peak disciple to reveal her true appearance. The bundle fell, and a silver-white little fox leapt onto her shoulder. "The one you're looking for is me." Yan Zhao's expression was calm, her tone icy. "I'm here, so let go of Zuo Xun!" A few nearby Huangyin Peak disciples saw her elegant and delicate face and, in a daze, realized Yan Zhao's resemblance to the portraits of Yan Yuanqing revered in the ancestral hall. Yet if not for the present scene, no one would ever associate the refined and delicate Yan Zhao with a member of the demon tribe. Bu Donghou released his grip, and Zuo Xun slumped to the ground. Dongfang Cixin quickly pulled her away, channeling her qi to heal her wounds. Yundaozi, Ying Xiao, and many other powerful figures turned their gaze toward Yan Zhao. The crowd naturally parted to create a path. Yan Zhao began walking forward step by step. The crowd's eyes held fear, disgust, curiosity, and mostly disbelief as they watched Yan Zhao. They had all heard of the victories at the Celestial Disciple Tournament—the masked female cultivator with the silver-white snow fox by her side, unmistakably matching Yan Zhao. Yet, wasn't Yan Zhao supposed to be unable to cultivate? But the Yan Zhao emerging from the crowd had a stable aura, causing even inner disciples of the Refining Body stage to feel an intangible pressure, forcing them to back away. If she could force back Refining Body stage disciples, Yan Zhao's cultivation couldn't be anything less than Golden Core. Could she have advanced from an unsupportable foundation to the Golden Core stage in just three years? Unless she had been hiding her capabilities from the start. No one could accept this reality, thus "feigned weakness" became the sole explanation for Yan Zhao's dramatic transformation. The audience stepped back in terror. The offspring of demons truly was devious. She had been holding back, likely planning to destroy Fuyun Sect from within. Fortunately, the ancestors had uncovered her, forcing her out! Yan Zhao walked forward, creating a wide empty space around her. Even though she appeared to be only at the Golden Core stage, not even the elders of Fuyun Sect dared to approach her. After all, Yan Zhao was the offspring of Yan Yuanqing—a member of the demon tribe. Who knew what innate powers she might master, perhaps capable of killing everyone in a fit of rage. The Transcendence stage seniors may fear nothing, but they were just minions and didn't dare act recklessly. Yundaozi rose slowly, Yuanhai Zhenren raised her gaze, and Su Zijun moved her hand behind her back, signaling to Yaoshengzi. Dongfang Cixin sighed, her expression worried. Zuo Xun gritted her teeth, filled with indignation. Finally, Yan Zhao stopped in front of them. Her frame was slender, yet her back was straight as she stared directly at Yundaozi, unwavering. "Fuyun Sect killed my mother, and the Celestial Alliance killed my uncle." Yan Zhao's gaze was calm, her tone steady. "If I survive today, I promise you all will pay." She raised a hand, pointing at Yundaozi's face. "Especially you." Chapter 247 At Yan Zhao’s declaration, silence engulfed the room, a pin drop could be heard. Moments later, the crowd erupted. Yan Zhao's words seemed like the boastful taunt of a three-year-old to a strong adult. What she faced now were not just the Fuyun Sect but also the Celestial Alliance, with numerous experts present. She was clearly at the brink of death, yet she dared to speak so boldly. Thinking she could leave Fuyun Sect alive was surely impossible. Nevertheless, no one dared openly laugh at Yan Zhao's arrogance; even if they thought it, they only kept it quietly to themselves. They feared the slim chance. What if the Fuyun Sect and the Celestial Alliance failed to kill her and she managed to escape... Though the situation clearly favored them, a strange silence hung over everyone. Yundaozi backhanded a strike—a sharp force sliced through the air, piercing Yan Zhao's chest in an instant. Yuanhai Zhenren's face grew stern, and Su Zijun nearly intervened, but Yaoshengzi quickly stopped her, signaling patience. The blow bore through her chest; not even her robes could shield against it, and blood stained her clothes. Still holding the small fox, Yan Zhao remained unfazed. The spectators were horrified by this scene, their uneasy feelings fading away. The difference in power was obvious; Yan Zhao's earlier threats seemed utterly laughable now. An inexperienced disciple, no matter how meticulously she plots, how could she possibly escape from the grasp of these powerful figures? In the next moment, she was expected to collapse. However, the anticipated scene of Yan Zhao falling did not occur. She continued to stand under the scrutiny of all, and astonishingly, the wound in her chest, which had been pierced by a deadly force, began to heal. This was a strike from a Transcendence stage master. To bystanders, it seemed to merely shatter her heart, but in reality, just this one strike should have severed all her meridians and ended her life. Yet, Yan Zhao did not die. Her chest wound healed so quickly that in mere seconds, not even a scar remained. Yundaozi's expression darkened instantly, Bu Donghou looked surprised, and even Ying Xiao displayed confusion. Even Cang Li Mozun and Nangong Yin didn't possess such rapid healing abilities. If this terrifying power was inherited from her demon bloodline, then who exactly was Yan Zhao's father? Or perhaps, this was Yan Zhao's innate ability, the source of her audacity to confront the Fuyun Sect? Quickly, Yundaozi raised his hand, sending a few more forces through Yan Zhao's body, too swift to be stopped. Yuanhai Zhenren restrained himself by pressing down his right hand with his left, while Su Zijun quickly closed her eyes, recalling Nangong Yin's parting advice. —No matter what happens, if I don't act, neither should you. Su Zijun gritted her teeth internally; Nangong Yin, you truly are merciless! Behind Yan Zhao, a burst of blood sprayed into the air, staining the little fox's fur red. Its emerald eyes dimmed with a blood-red hue, seething with hatred and fury. Yet Yan Zhao held it back, not allowing it to bear her burden. Her body swayed within the blood mist, tottering and shaking from side to side; her physical form riddled with injuries, yet stubbornly she did not fall. Had it been any other Golden Core cultivator, they would have likely perished several times over by now. The longer she stood, the more shocked and terrified the disciples of Fuyun Sect and the visiting sects were. A powerful individual was formidable, but for someone who seemed as insignificant as an ant, yet impossible to kill—as long as she continued to survive—inevitably she would rise again. The secret fear, like a contagion, spread outward from her, infecting everyone around. One spoke to ten, ten spoke to a hundred. The little fox's eyes were nearly bleeding from rage. Yan Zhao wavered as she retreated, her view obscured by the mist of blood, unable to see her surroundings, everything appearing as twisted illusions. Wounded so severely, she no longer felt pain, only her limbs growing heavier, her mind wrapped in a hot compress, foggy and swelling. But there was little need for deep thought. Multiple vicious and sharp energies clashed within her, piercing her heart, breaking her meridians, shattering her dantian. Each move aimed to kill. Yan Zhao had never been so gravely wounded. Her blood was all but drained; her healing was now slower than the damage being inflicted. The opponent, after all, was a Transcendence stage master. Despite her bloodline's innate protection, she was hardly a match. As her awareness began to blur, she was one straw away from collapse. Suddenly, a lightness in her embrace signaled the little fluffy creature had leaped out. In her dazed state, vision failing, ears ringing, only one thought surged: it's better this way. Even if I die, it can still live on. I anticipate not the moon, but our encounter.