Chen Ping’s face showed no expression, not even a flicker of his eyelids, just a faint glance at the young man surnamed Li, his tone dripping with disdain: “Compare with me? Are you worthy?”
The young man surnamed Li flared up instantly: “Arrogant! Courting death!” He moved to draw his sword.
But the moment his hand touched the hilt, a flash of cold light streaked before his eyes, too fast to react.
“Swish—”
A soft sound, and a strand of black hair drifted down, landing perfectly in the young man’s open palm.
Everyone froze.
The young man stood rigid, still in the stance of gripping his sword, his face still flushed with anger, but his eyes were wide, filled with shock.
The disciples behind him gaped, none having seen how Chen Ping drew his sword, only a blur before it was over.
Chen Ping hadn’t even moved from his spot, as if nothing had happened, merely brushing off nonexistent dust from his sleeve.
Ling Xue watched, a barely noticeable smile curling her lips. She stepped forward, addressing the stunned disciples: “The senior brother personally chosen by Master naturally has exceptional skill. Brother Li, you’d do well to learn from Brother Chen in the future.”
Without waiting for their response, she turned to Chen Ping and Hu Mazi: “Let’s go, don’t delay our business.”
Chen Ping nodded and followed with Hu Mazi.
Only when the three were far gone did the sword sect disciples snap out of it.
The young man surnamed Li stared at the strand of hair in his palm, a cold sweat breaking out down his back.
In that instant, he’d felt the real threat of death. If Chen Ping’s target hadn’t been his hair but his neck…
He swallowed hard, watching the retreating figures of Chen Ping and the others, no longer daring to underestimate them, left only with shock and confusion.
“Brother Li… what… what was that just now?” a disciple stammered.
The young man surnamed Li took a deep breath, his voice still trembling: “I don’t know, but that speed and precision… even all of us together might not be his match.”
The disciples exchanged glances, speechless, feeling the whole affair was utterly bizarre.
On the road, Hu Mazi couldn’t help but ask: “Miss Ling, is that information tower reliable? Could they be deceiving us?”
“Hard to say.”
Ling Xue shook her head, “I’ve never been to the information tower, and I don’t know if the information is true. We can only try.”
Led by Ling Xue, they found the information tower.
It was a towering pavilion, entirely black, looking somewhat eerie, with two black-clad guards at the entrance, their sharp eyes scanning passersby.
Chen Ping took a deep breath and walked in with Hu Mazi.
Inside the information tower, a faint scent of sandalwood greeted them, the interior starkly different from the ominous exterior, lavishly decorated.
A massive jade table stood in the centre of the hall, surrounded by several qipao-clad maids, each beautiful and poised.
One maid stepped forward, smiling: “Honoured guests, what information do you seek?”
“We want to know the location of the Evil Path Hall’s branch,” Chen Ping said directly.
The maid’s smile faltered slightly, clearly not expecting this.
She sized up Chen Ping and Hu Mazi, saying: “Information on the Evil Path Hall isn’t cheap, and it’s risky. Are you sure you want to pursue this?”
“Certain,” Chen Ping nodded. “How much?”
The maid thought for a moment, then said: “The exact location of the Evil Path Hall’s branch costs one million immortal stones.”
“One million immortal stones?” Hu Mazi exclaimed, “Why don’t you just rob us?”
