Chapter Thirty-Six: I’ll Take You Home

Fan Jiu’s voice echoed through several nearby neighborhoods.

A smile curled at the corner of Liang Zhi’s lips—this commotion was large enough, surely. At the very least, those from Peach Blossom Spring, as well as those who wished to conceal its existence, would now harbor deep resentment toward him.

Ling Ji covered her mouth, giggling, her cheeks flushing rosy red.

The doctrine of the Desecration Cult was to sow chaos and drive humanity into depravity. After this, she was certain she’d be rewarded upon her return.

Fan Jiu confessed to most of his wicked deeds, detailing them clearly, until his narrative reached the critical point.

“Peach Blossom Spring has committed countless crimes in Da Dong. The reason they were only discovered this time is because…”

Because someone high up in Da Dong was shielding them.

But at that crucial moment, Fan Jiu did not speak the most important truth. Veins bulged on his forehead as he struggled violently in place, the enormous loudspeaker abruptly falling silent.

He then lifted his head, glare fixed on Liang Zhi and the others, and roared, “Enough!”

The force behind these words was utterly unlike Fan Jiu’s own—it was as if another soul had suddenly replaced the one in his body.

Everyone present, except Xie Zhitu, was shaken.

“You’ve gone far enough; you have already caused us considerable loss. There is no need to continue.”

“Who are you?” Xie Zhitu frowned, questioning.

The figure did not reply with his identity, but instead said to Xie Zhitu, “We lost this time, but we will not always lose. I’ve memorized your face—I will find you soon. You, you, and you… None of you will escape!”

Having spoken, Fan Jiu’s eyes rolled upward, and his neck twisted a full circle with a sickening crack.

Fan Jiu… was dead!

Liang Zhi poked Fan Jiu’s body with his battle flag; once he confirmed the man was truly dead, he sighed in disappointment. “Ah, I’d hoped to kill him myself.”

“I’ve fulfilled my promise. The Sky Cavalry will arrive within minutes. You’ll honor your word and set me free, won’t you?” Ling Ji threw a flirtatious glance at Liang Zhi and Xie Zhitu.

Qiu Shilu raised her hand. “Rather than dealing with this witch, I think we should escape first. Otherwise, in a moment, we might not be able to.”

A heavy, hoarse voice rumbled, “No, you can’t escape anymore.”

At the doorway, five figures appeared—it was the Pan Tu squad, who had been pursuing them all the way!

Just their presence exerted immense pressure on Liang Zhi; these were no mere monks of the Golden Moon—they were far more formidable.

“Ah, this is bad—the constables are here,” Xie Zhitu exclaimed, feigning surprise.

---

“What do we do? They’re blocking the exit. If we fight, we don’t stand a chance.” Liang Zhi gripped his battle flag tightly; he had no intention of being imprisoned a second time.

Xie Zhitu looked to Liang Zhi. “I’d planned to have a talk with you, but there’s nothing left to be said. Let’s not meet again.”

He raised his hand, and the floor and ceiling of the wooden building began to sprout roots and buds. A wooden wall emerged, splitting the room in two.

The Pan Tu squad and Xie Zhitu stood together in one section; Liang Zhi, Ling Ji, and Qiu Shilu were in the other.

“You can escape through the window. Though it’s the top floor, it’s not difficult to descend.”

Liang Zhi hesitated for a moment, then swiftly grabbed Qiu Shilu’s arm and crashed through the window with her.

If Xie Zhitu had chosen to sacrifice himself and buy time for them, they couldn’t squander his goodwill.

For once, Liang Zhi found himself not so annoyed by Xie Zhitu.

The enormous wooden building was several stories high, its architecture resembling ancient styles—each floor smaller than the last, with sloping eaves between levels. So after bursting out, they wouldn’t plummet straight to the ground.

With Liang Zhi’s spider silk and Qiu Shilu’s strength, the two descended easily, floor by floor.

Ling Ji stamped her feet in frustration. “You two are clinging together and leaving a lady like me behind—how improper!”

Helpless, she could only nervously leap down, one floor at a time.

By the time Ling Ji reached the ground, she had gone from a graceful beauty to a bedraggled mess. Her once snowy, alluring feet were swollen and red, some places even scraped and bleeding.

In terms of ability, she was much stronger than Liang Zhi and Qiu Shilu, but her powers were useless for descending a building.

And she wasn’t wearing boots…

It was the first time since becoming a witch that she found herself so disheveled.

---

Pan Tu drew a short blade, gripping it in reverse, and commanded his subordinates, “Go, capture them!”

Wen Zhongxiang, Han Beinuan, and Niu Danong exited the room, pursuing the trio through other exits.

Pan Tu remained vigilant, wary that Xie Zhitu might use his powers to hinder the others, but Xie Zhitu did nothing.

“You stayed behind to hold us off, so why didn’t you stop my subordinates?” Pan Tu frowned.

“I never claimed I would,” Xie Zhitu replied, smiling, and gestured toward the children huddled at the door, along with the lambs. “I stayed only because I promised them I would personally take them home.”

Pan Tu almost laughed in exasperation, gripping his blade until flames flickered along its edge.

---

“You saved these women and children—I admire that. But in this situation, you still want to escort each one home? Are you ignoring our presence?”

Xie Zhitu shook his head. “No. It’s just that whether you’re here or not, you won’t hinder me.”

Pan Tu glanced sideways at the man beside him, who was wrapped head to toe in a gray cloak. “Two against one—be careful. We should be able to win!”

Xie Zhitu strode toward the doorway—not to attack Pan Tu, nor to seize a chance to escape, but simply because the victims were gathered there.

Pan Tu moved in a blur, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. Spinning rapidly, he slashed the blade toward Xie Zhitu’s neck, the edge trailing a spark of fire.

Thud!

The blade struck Xie Zhitu’s neck with a dull sound.

Xie Zhitu walked on, unperturbed.

Pan Tu stood stunned, staring at his blade. “What just happened?”

Was his neck unusually tough?

No, from the feel of it, it was an ordinary neck. When the blade fell, all the force seemed to vanish, as if it was gently laid atop.

But if the force vanished, what of the flame? Why did the fire disappear as well?

Then Pan Tu felt a wave of weakness, his whole body turning limp, consciousness fading. “I’m… poisoned!”

After Pan Tu collapsed, the gray-cloaked man lunged forward, a beam of light shooting from his hood.

Xie Zhitu caught the light effortlessly, and it vanished. Yet the gray-cloaked man was already at his side, fists and feet raining blows, forcing Xie Zhitu to halt.

Xie Zhitu regarded him in surprise. “Strange—you’re not poisoned. What are you, exactly?”

But the gray-cloaked man lasted little longer than Pan Tu. Xie Zhitu grabbed his wrist, and with a thud, he too fell.

Xie Zhitu approached the victims, his smile radiating warmth and reassurance. “Come, let me take you home.”

…