Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Masked Figure, "Master of the Wicked Path"

"Master?" The Deceptive Beast rose to its feet, watching Wu You's hand.

Wu You raised his hand, silencing its next words. His face was expressionless.

"White Eagle is dead."

Wang Fugui, the Deceptive Beast, furrowed his brows. White Eagle, like himself, was a lifeform created by Wu You—akin to brothers, if one were to judge by human standards.

Of course, even among alchemical beings, emotions could be close or distant, ranks high or low; not all treated each other as true brothers.

Still, White Eagle's death had a great impact on the Deceptive Beast as a fellow alchemical life.

"Was it the Blood Jiao?"

Wu You nodded.

"That beast is more troublesome than we imagined. Unless silver-ranked power is brought to bear, it's nearly impossible to shake it."

The Deceptive Beast narrowed its eyes, his eyeballs rolling restlessly in their sockets.

"Then, what if we incite the martial world of this realm to besiege it, while we strike from the shadows?"

A spark of interest flickered in Wu You's eyes, but soon dimmed.

"The martial forces of this world are not fools; they can't be incited so easily. Every one of them is shrewd."

He thought of Lü Shengyang, of the former Wang Fugui, and of the not-so-dull Green Sash Hand and Iron Sword Guest.

"Master, in truth, at this stage, the ones most concerned about the Blood Jiao disaster are not us, but—"

"The Ying Clan!" Wu You finished the words the Deceptive Beast had left unsaid.

Great Qin's rule was not yet secure; it was a time when winning the hearts of the people was paramount.

Regardless of whether the Blood Jiao was stirred because Wu You had entered the Eastern Domain, this disaster was a foul stick churning the pot for Great Qin, disturbing the people's hearts just as the waters were settling.

"After all these days, the court is likely preparing to act," Wu You murmured.

"Master, your prediction is accurate. When you were overseeing Jiulu, blue-clad riders carrying the imperial edict already entered the Liu Estate outside the city," Wang Fugui replied, a touch of sycophantic flattery in his tone.

Peace was most vital to the Ying Clan, but it also greatly affected some of the Central Plains noble families and sects, especially those near the Tiansha River.

The Liu family was no exception. Their involvement was only a matter of time. The Blood Jiao was fierce, but history records it was once driven away—though never slain.

Of course, two centuries ago, the Blood Jiao likely had not attained silver rank.

But what did that matter to Wu You? All he needed were expendable pawns.

As Wu You pondered, he realized his side needed a reasonable pretext to intervene.

By the time all the factions truly besieged the Blood Jiao, unfamiliar faces would surely not be allowed to linger at the periphery.

"Retainer!" The term flashed through Wu You's mind.

With a thought, a silver-white mask of unusually soft texture appeared in his hand.

Masquerade Mask (Silver-ranked rare item).

Let’s create a convenient identity—the first alias he would use in this world.

He placed the mask upon his face.

Prompt: Please describe the desired persona.

In his consciousness, a tool resembling an alchemical sketchboard appeared—much simpler, but the method was likely the same.

Moments later—

Before Wang Fugui now stood a man, slightly taller and leaner than Wu You’s original form, a middle-aged figure.

From his temples, two streaks of silver ran through his jet-black hair.

His weathered face bore no wrinkles; his eyes were indifferent, as if they had witnessed all of existence.

He gathered part of his long, dark hair, shot through with silver strands.

"A hairpin."

Wang Fugui hurried downstairs, returning shortly with two jade hairpins, three silver, and two gold.

Wu You casually took a jade hairpin and fastened his hair.

With his scholar’s robe, which fit him well enough, he now appeared as a man both handsome and world-weary, his hair coiled into a topknot, with long locks trailing down his back and sides, eyes deep and remote, bearing an unrestrained air.

"Still missing something," Wu You muttered.

Permission granted: Demonic Divine Power.

Select ability medium: Qiongqi’s Demonic Wrath.

A surge of oppressive energy flared and vanished from Wu You’s body.

In an instant, his bearing, once that of a wandering scholar, transformed utterly.

Now, a demonic aura radiated from him—sinister and commanding, his gaze both withdrawn and enthralling.

Combined with his weathered appearance, he was clearly an enigmatic master of the demonic path.

Even Wang Fugui stared, momentarily dazed.

"Wang Fugui, tell me: If I, as the Demonic Scion, approach the Liu family seeking to join the battle against the Blood Jiao, will I be accepted?"

His voice was chilling and bewitching, laced with the power to stir emotions.

Wu You had long wished to do this; Qiongqi’s abilities perfectly compensated for his lack of martial experience.

To sense desire was, in a way, to anticipate intent—a sort of premonition, and the allure of shadows.

He tried moving.

His step was ghostly, shrouded in a wisp of black smoke; visible, but impossible to judge his position or direction before he truly arrived.

Excellent. Today he would go to the Liu family, sound out their intentions, see when they would act.

The martial arts of this world were fascinating as well. Wang Fugui could gather some information, but the highest levels could not be bought with mere wealth.

...

Twenty miles outside Leping City lay the vast Liu Estate.

Within lived thousands of Liu blood relatives and associates.

As a great clan that had endured for centuries, the Liu family wielded vast influence and produced many talents.

Their retainers were also men of rare ability.

This was not the Warring States era of Earth, where among three thousand retainers many were idlers.

Here, strength spoke the loudest—martial prowess and raw power were the measure.

In ancient times on Earth, to subdue the world in nine years would have been a fantasy; here, it was possible. True masters seemed godlike or demonic in the eyes of common men.

Their impact was immense; armies here were practically legions of warriors.

The Ji Clan had collapsed only after all their great experts perished.

Now, in a rear chamber of the estate’s main hall—

At the head sat the current Liu patriarch, vigorous though past fifty, flanked by several clan elders and seniors.

Younger family elites stood off to the side.

They had just debated whether to send men to join the campaign against the Blood Jiao, and whom to send.

The decision: Participate—they must.

Among top powers, rivalry and comparison were constant, and the hearts of the people, though intangible, sometimes proved crucial.

As for whom to send, innate-level experts were necessary, with at least one top master to preside.

Lesser talents would not suffice.

Yet, even as a great clan, the Liu family could not risk their best easily. There was a difference between a martial trial and a death mission.

Thus, aside from a few skilled family members, the remaining slots would be filled by their retainers.

A guest is kept for a thousand days, for the moment he is needed.

...

Several burly family warriors guarded the estate’s gates.

The Ying Clan’s summons to all great powers for the Blood Jiao’s eradication was no secret.

First, it reassured the people; second, it pressured the factions to act.

Lately, quite a few self-styled experts and wandering fighters had come to enlist, relying on their own prowess.

However, few caught the Liu family’s eye.

"Hey! Look over there!" One of the warriors pointed down a distant path.

Soon, all attention was fixed on the figure approaching.

A shadow advanced in an uncanny fashion, seemingly strolling at a slow pace—

But the warriors, skilled as they were, could tell his speed was anything but normal. He was at least faster than any of them could move at full effort.