104 The Slaying of the Black Servant

"Are you deaf, or just incapable of understanding my words?"

The leader of the three men grabbed the attendant by her hair and yanked it back violently. "The Zeng family is not someone your Alchemy Pavilion can afford to offend," he sneered, his expression twisted with a cruel delight in another's suffering. He wore the distinctive robes of the Zeng family, with the character "Zeng" embroidered clearly on his cuffs.

His two companions chimed in with jeers, mocking her for "not knowing her place."

Satisfied with his torment, he released her hair and shook out his aching wrist. "I’ll ask one more time: are you going to hand over this alchemy room, or not?"

Seeing the attendant weeping and shaking her head, unable to speak, he raised his right hand to strike her.

*Clang!*

"Go ahead. Try striking her."

The sequence of events had unfolded in a heartbeat, but Qin Chuan had witnessed the entire scene and decided to intervene immediately.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Zeng He, the leader, felt the chilling bite of a sword blade pressed against his throat. His scalp tingled, and without even bothering to ask for the reason, he reflexively invoked his family's prestige. "I am Zeng He of the Zeng family! Calm down, let's be calm!"

Qin Chuan looked at him coldly, then turned his gaze to the attendant. "Can you stand?"

She didn't speak, but with trembling lashes, she struggled to climb to her feet. Once she was steady, she gave a slight bow. "Thank you, Young Master Qin," she murmured, hiding behind him and peeking out at the trio with fearful eyes.

"Young Master, look out!"

At the very moment Qin Chuan was distracted, the man in black to Zeng He's left produced a short blade from nowhere and lunged at Qin Chuan's wrist.

Warned just in time, Qin Chuan retracted his Haoyue sword, wrapped an arm around the attendant’s waist, and spun gracefully to land firmly on his feet. The brief contact with her softness meant nothing to him, but the friction caused the attendant's face to flush a deep, ripe apple red.

Zeng He glanced at the man in black, and seeing his subtle nod, he felt emboldened once more.

"Heh, so it’s you, 'Young Master' Qin?" Zeng He scoffed. "If I recall correctly, the Qin family of Yudian City is nothing but a third-rate, insignificant clan. Why, just two days ago, we beat their youngest son until he was unconscious. Word is he won't be able to get out of bed for three months. A real pity—his fair face was left black and blue."

Zeng He and the white-clad man to his right exchanged mocking banter, playing off each other’s cruelty.

Qin Chuan observed them, finding the trio rather interesting. Zeng He was clearly a spoiled scion of the Zeng family; the man in black, capable of such a silent, lethal strike, was not to be underestimated; and the man in white was nothing more than a sycophant.

"I have already reserved this alchemy room," Qin Chuan said.

The attendant, hearing him reveal his identity, gasped, "Young Master, you mustn't!"

"If you want it, take it," Qin Chuan sighed, looking at the three. He couldn't gauge the strength of the man in black and preferred to avoid unnecessary trouble.

The attendant behind him felt a strange emotion. She assumed Qin Chuan had revealed his identity only to take the burden of this conflict upon himself. Zeng He was notorious in Yudian City for his unreasonable bullying; anyone who wasn't from a major clan was expected to steer clear of him. By ruining their plans and exposing his own background, Qin Chuan had ensured he couldn't easily escape the consequences. She cursed herself silently—why couldn't she have kept her mouth shut instead of blurting out his surname?

Had Qin Chuan known her thoughts, he would have told her she was mistaken; he was an outsider and knew nothing of the Zeng family, let alone Zeng He.

***

Zeng He arched an eyebrow, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh? Now you know how to be afraid?"

"Ten thousand spirit stones, plus get on your knees and apologize!" the man in white echoed, fawning over his master. Even the man in black, who had been watching Qin Chuan with a cold face, couldn't help but inwardly label him a bootlicker.

After a moment of silence, Qin Chuan realized this conflict was unavoidable. "Very well, ten thousand spirit stones."

Zeng He burst into a laugh. "Just ten thousand..."

Before the last word could leave his lips, a flash of cold light—reflected in the dim glow of the whale-oil lamp—struck directly toward the brow of the man in black.

The man in black froze; he hadn't expected Qin Chuan to move without the slightest warning. He assumed Qin Chuan was using some special technique to move so silently, and his heart ignited with greed at the thought of stealing such a treasure or art. He dismissed the sword strike as nothing more than a soft, feminine blow lacking any real power.

"I am the Black Butcher, and today I claim your life!" he shouted, throwing his strength into his short blade to intercept the Haoyue sword.

*Clang!*

But as the blade and sword collided, the Black Butcher’s face went pale, and he stumbled back several steps. When he finally regained his senses, blood was slowly dripping down his trembling right hand.

"What is your cultivation level?" he gasped, terrified as he replayed the impact in his mind.

Qin Chuan’s only answer was another chilling flash of his blade. Seeing the sword style a second time, the Black Butcher’s expression shifted, his eyes widening as he felt a subtle, rhythmic vibration emanating from the steel.

It was the "Vibration Technique" from the third volume of the *Xujie Immortal Manual*! The essence of this technique was a force of oscillation. Qin Chuan had previously been unable to master it, but his recent trip to Yudian Mountain had provided the breakthrough he needed. Combining physical refinement with internal energy, every strike he delivered carried immense weight, requiring no infusion of spiritual energy to be lethal.

"Brother Zeng, save me!"

The Black Butcher could only manage a desperate shout. He didn't run; in this situation, fleeing would only bring him closer to death. Forcing his stiffened right hand to move, he channeled his remaining energy into his blade and slashed upward.

*Pfft!*

"Save me! Help me!"

Watching Qin Chuan’s relentless, rhythmic strikes, the Black Butcher fell into despair, blood foaming at his lips, his hair disheveled. There were no obvious lacerations on his body, but blood seeped from his sleeves; had one pulled them back, they would have seen his flesh shattered by the sheer force of the vibrations. He had managed to block dozens of attacks in just a few heartbeats. Qin Chuan’s style was unadorned—simple, direct thrusts—yet they cast a shadow of inevitable death.

Zeng He was clearly terrified. Having lived a life of luxury and fawning subordinates, he had never seen such carnage. Seeing the Black Butcher’s life force fading, his own face turned porcelain white. His eyes darted to the attendant, and a sinister light sparked in them.

Just as she was staring at Qin Chuan, mesmerized by his prowess, Zeng He lunged from the side. She was caught completely off guard.

*Pfft.*

But when she opened her eyes, it was Zeng He who went flying back, vomiting blood, not her.

"Heh, Brother, let's call it a day," a voice said. A man stood beside the attendant; it was he who had struck Zeng He in the nick of time.

Qin Chuan paused, finding the voice familiar. "Brother Wang Hao?"

"Young Pavilion Master," the attendant chimed in simultaneously.

Qin Chuan blinked. "You are the Young Pavilion Master of this Alchemy Pavilion?"

"Indeed. Pavilion Master Wang Tu is my father."

That explained why the attendant had offered to waive all fees and provide a discount on herbs. As to why he was being treated with such favor, it was easy to understand: Wang Hao wasn't just repaying the favor of yesterday’s enlightenment; he was investing in a future alchemist of immeasurable potential.

Seeing it was Wang Hao, Qin Chuan lowered his Haoyue sword. He could at least give the wealthy man some face.

"I am a few years your senior, so I shall call you 'Brother'," Wang Hao said. "A word of advice: it would be best not to kill this man. The Zeng family ancestor reportedly broke through to a higher realm half a year ago, and they are now nearly on par with the Tang family. While they are still somewhat inferior, the gap is closing."

Zeng He, hearing Wang Hao's tone of retreat, suddenly regained his arrogance. Whether out of habit or because he didn't realize how close he was to death, he sneered, "When the time comes, I'll have my Great Ancestor cut all your heads off!"

"Brother, stop!" Wang Hao’s expression changed instantly. He looked at Qin Chuan and realized with a sinking heart that it was too late.

Qin Chuan’s murderous intent was already ignited; it would not be so easily extinguished.

The Black Butcher, seeing Wang Hao approach, felt a flicker of hope. *If I can just survive this one strike, I’ll live!* He desperately raised his blade to parry, but his face fell as a massive, surging force traveled up the steel and into his wrist, stinging like a scorpion's strike.

*It's over. He wasn't using his full strength before.*

The thought vanished as quickly as it came. His chipped short blade was easily flicked away, leaving him defenseless.

"You..." he started to say, but a thin, pink line across his throat suddenly widened. With a sickening hiss, blood erupted as his windpipe and most of his neck were severed, leaving only a sliver of skin intact.

Qin Chuan’s sword remained silvery-white, untouched by the gore. He used the Black Butcher’s own sleeve to wipe the blade clean, then pointed the tip toward Zeng He.

Wang Hao’s hand, reaching out to intervene, froze in mid-air.

"Consider this my doing alone; it has nothing to do with the Alchemy Pavilion," Qin Chuan said, noting Wang Hao’s shifting expression. Even if he hadn't said it, the Zeng family would eventually blame the Pavilion for poor oversight anyway; it was better to take the blame and secure a favor.

"Don't kill me! I have spirit stones—five thousand! No, ten thousand! All my stones are right here, take them all! Just don't kill me!" Zeng He fell to his knees, throwing his storage bag forward and kowtowing repeatedly, his earlier arrogance replaced by pathetic groveling. The man in white was even worse; he had collapsed to the floor, unable to speak, his robes soaked in a foul-smelling pool of his own making.

"Killing you would only dirty my sword. Hand over your spirit stones, artifacts, and pills," Qin Chuan said. He was no brute, nor was he bloodthirsty; he knew who could be killed and who could not.

"Look up. See what this is."

Qin Chuan crouched down and flashed the green-white jade token. He sighed inwardly. "I owe so much already, I suppose I might as well owe a little more."