Chapter 27: Meng Po

Is this where I, Liu Xie, am destined to meet my end today?

Just as Liu Xie closed his eyes in resignation, a black shadow leaped silently from the ceiling—a place no one had even glanced at. Most unnervingly, the figure landed without making a single sound. Even Liu Xie had no idea when someone had dropped down behind him.

The figure was shrouded in a black robe, their gender impossible to discern. Without a hint of hesitation, they delivered a swift chop to the back of Liu Xie’s neck, knocking him unconscious right in front of everyone.

Qin Wan’er faltered, casting a wary glance at the black-robed figure. She had been locked in combat with Fu Hu on the upper floor for so long, yet she had never once noticed someone standing above her.

"I know not which hero you are, sir," Qin Wan’er said, cupping her hands in a gesture of forced politeness. "Might you hand over the person in your grasp? We shall be sure to reward you handsomely."

The figure raised a hand and slowly pulled back their hood, revealing a grotesque ghost mask. Had Liu Xie been conscious, he would have recognized this as the Ghost Face—Liu Zhiyuan—who had sold him slaves in the Duobao Market years ago.

Qin Wan’er frowned, her willow-leaf brows knitting together as she stared at the silent Liu Zhiyuan. Were it not for the unfathomable aura of power he exuded, she would have long since rushed forward to cut him down.

The members of the Yellow Heaven Sect, led by Qin Wan’er, remained deadlocked with Liu Zhiyuan, who stood motionless before the unconscious Liu Xie. After an indeterminate amount of time, Qin Wan’er exchanged a subtle look with the Twelve Heavenly Fiends.

Suddenly, Qin Wan’er lunged, her sword aimed at the Ghost Face’s heart with killing intent. Simultaneously, the Twelve Heavenly Fiends formed a lethal formation, attacking from twelve different directions. It was a total, omnidirectional assault, yet the Ghost Face, standing at the center, did not even flinch.

"Boom!"

In the blink of an eye, before anyone could comprehend what had happened, Qin Wan’er and the Twelve Heavenly Fiends were sent flying backward, coughing up blood. When they finally struggled to their feet, their eyes were filled with profound shock and trepidation. The Ghost Face hadn't even raised a hand.

"A bunch of reckless juniors, sent as cannon fodder to test me?" Liu Zhiyuan said slowly. "Hmm? Is that right? Meng Po?"

A deathly silence followed his words. Qin Wan’er and the Twelve Heavenly Fiends looked at each other, their faces filled with astonishment. They knew their superior was someone called Meng Po, but she was so meticulous that not even the internal members of the Yellow Heaven Sect had ever seen her face. How could this Ghost Face know?

The Ghost Face kept his gaze fixed on a secluded corner, as if someone were hiding there. Everyone’s eyes followed his lead. Was Meng Po actually here today?

The guests at the Drunken Immortal Pavilion were mostly wealthy and well-connected, many of whom had heard the legend of Meng Po. During the Yellow Turban Rebellion, many imperial officials had been assassinated at her hand. Meng Po was a master of martial arts, but it was said that everyone who had ever seen her true face was already dead. Combined with her tendency to vanish without a trace, she had remained a ghost story to most.

Hearing that Meng Po was in the building, the crowd turned their eyes toward the corner. A seductive laugh echoed through the room as Mother Yang stepped out from the shadows.

"The Da Sui He truly lives up to its reputation! To think you could ferret out an old woman like me—your fame is well-deserved!" Mother Yang said with a smile.

The entire room was stunned. The notorious procuress of the capital was the feared Meng Po! And even more shocking, the man in the ghost mask was the legendary Da Sui He, who had vanished decades ago! A chill crept up everyone’s spines; it was a primal fear of the name Da Sui He. Even after all these years, the mere mention of that name was enough to make one’s back grow cold.

Not only the guests, but even Qin Wan’er and the Twelve Heavenly Fiends were stunned. The opportunistic, money-grubbing madam was Meng Po! And the man they had just tried to kill was the legendary Da Sui He!

"The Imperial Court summoned you several times, and you dodged them all, yet here you are, aligned with rebels," Liu Zhiyuan said coldly. "I don’t believe you’re the type to board a sinking ship just because you heard the Emperor was incompetent."

Mother Yang—Meng Po—giggled, shielding her face with an air of coy shyness. "Da Sui He, you do love a joke. Am I really so mindless? We simply serve different masters, that is all."

"Then I’m afraid you won’t be leaving here today," Liu Zhiyuan said, as if stating the most trivial of facts.

"If anyone else said that to me, I’d think it was a joke," Meng Po laughed, her peach-blossom eyes dancing with light as she slowly walked toward him. "But coming from you, it truly makes my heart tremble!"

Suddenly, Meng Po struck out at Liu Zhiyuan—a ruthless surprise attack! But he was prepared, swaying slightly to evade the strike. Seemingly expecting this, she turned her hand into a claw, aiming for his chest. Liu Zhiyuan retreated with ghostly speed, dodging her again with ease.

Watching the lethal exchange, Wang Jingyun, hiding behind a pillar, was terrified. He had been taking advantage of this goddess of death all this time! He felt as if he had been dancing on the edge of the grave.

Meng Po’s attacks were vicious and aimed at vital points; wherever her energy struck, tables and chairs turned to dust. Liu Zhiyuan, however, remained calm, dodging her moves without throwing a single punch or palm strike. Though his expression was hidden behind the mask, everyone could feel the effortless composure beneath it.

"I didn't realize your martial arts were so profound, Da Sui He! I have made a fool of myself!" Meng Po laughed, drawing a soft sword from her waist and thrusting it toward him. "Why are you all just standing there? Attack!"

At her command, Qin Wan’er and the others rushed forward to assist. But before they could reach him, countless black-clad figures wearing ghost masks swarmed in through the windows and doors, surrounding Qin Wan’er and the dozens of Yellow Heaven Sect members.

Meng Po’s heart sank. Seeing Liu Zhiyuan still effortlessly evading her, a look of grim determination flashed in her eyes. "The Yellow Springs, the falling petals, the blooming of the Other Shore!"

A faint red glow shimmered on her soft sword as it vibrated rapidly, forming a brilliant, eerie red flower of blade-light, like a bloom from the underworld. She unleashed her signature technique, one that had never failed her.

Yet, to her horror, Liu Zhiyuan simply reached out a hand, pierced through the impenetrable web of blade-light, and seized her by the throat.

"Is that all?"

Liu Zhiyuan looked at her with utter contempt. With a twist of his wrist, and amidst the terror in her eyes, he snapped her neck without the slightest effort.

Meng Po was no more.