"Acting on orders? Hahaha..."

Hearing this, Gong Xing froze for a moment. He clearly hadn’t expected Fang Han to ask such a question.

Then, the abject terror on his face erupted like a lit oil depot, transforming into a hysterical, venomous madness.

"You actually think someone put me up to this?"

A hoarse, grating laugh escaped his throat. His eyes, completely bloodshot, stared daggers at Fang Han, as if to etch his face into the very depths of hell.

"Can’t figure out why I would... hire an assassin to kill you?"

He roared, his voice cracking with agitation and fear.

His face contorted as his fingers dug deep into his palm, oblivious to the blood seeping between them.

"Do you have any idea how I’ve lived every single day since the news of your placement on the Celestial Pride List got out?!"

"I can’t eat, I can’t sleep! Every time I close my eyes, I see you, sword in hand, coming to slaughter everyone in the Gong Family Manor!"

He flung his arm out, pointing back the way he came, though there was nothing but silent forest there.

"I’ve seen what happens to those who cross you! Chu Feng is the perfect example! Not only was he killed, but his entire clan was wiped out, its members degraded to Mine Slaves!"

"You think you’d spare me, Gong Xing? Spare the Gong Family? The moment you were free, you’d crush us like ants!"

Gong Xing’s voice grew louder, filled with his own "rational" deductions and extreme resentment.

"That’s right! I hired an assassin! I went to Gou the Third! I was ready to spend five million to buy your life!"

He laughed maniacally, tears and cold sweat streaming down his face in a mixture of terror and insanity.

"I don’t want to die! I don’t want the Gong Family’s hundred-year legacy to be destroyed! I just want to live! What’s so wrong with that?! You forced my hand! You, Fang Han, you’re the one who pushed me to this!"

He glared at Fang Han, his eyes filled with bone-deep hatred and a twisted, self-righteous conviction. ’I’ve done nothing wrong.’

"But what a pity... What a pity that good-for-nothing Gou the Third, at the Late Stage of Fourth Grade, couldn’t even kill you! Hahaha... Eighty-first on the Celestial Pride List. How magnificent! How mighty!"

He spat out the final title with immense sarcasm, his voice dripping with venom and bitterness.

After this outburst, Gong Xing seemed drained of all strength, yet the madness in his eyes burned hotter than ever.

He knew there was no chance he would survive today.

Now that Fang Han had tracked him down, there was no way he’d be spared.

’Beg for mercy? That would only lead to a more unsightly and humiliating death.’

’Since I’m dead either way...’

Gong Xing whispered hoarsely, as if to himself.

He slowly raised his hands. With a flick of his wrists, a pair of sinister metal claws glowing with a faint blue luster appeared, instantly encasing his fingers like a beast’s fangs.

The blades were about half a foot long, curved like hooks, with razor-sharp tips that were clearly coated in a deadly poison.

"Then I’ll take a piece of you with me!!!"

Gong Xing let out an inhuman roar as the Inner Qi of an Early Stage of Fifth Grade martial artist erupted from his body, pouring entirely into the claws.

The faint blue glow of the claws flickered, carrying a cloying, sweet scent. The poison coating them was clearly no trivial matter.

He stomped hard, the ground cracking beneath his foot. Like a rabid, venomous wolf, he threw his entire body at Fang Han!

Nether Ghost Claw!

This was a top-level Martial Art from Youming Pavilion, ruthless and vicious, specializing in attacking vital points.

As Gong Xing executed it now, there was only offense, no defense. Every move was a mutual-destruction gambit!

The claws tore through the air, leaving a trail of afterimages and a piercing shriek as they targeted all of Fang Han’s vital spots—his face, throat, and heart.

He burned all of his Essence, Qi, and Spirit, pushing the power of this Claw Technique to a peak he had never before reached.

This strike was the ultimate culmination of his life’s Cultivation, his bottomless resentment, and his terror of death!

"Such deep-seated resentment. But don’t get it twisted. My feud with the Gong Family started because you coveted the Silver Mine my Fang Family discovered..."

Faced with this frenzied, vicious assault, Fang Han’s expression never flickered.

There was no mockery, no solemnity, not even a surge of killing intent—only the calm of a deep, still pool.

Gong Xing’s progress from the Late Stage of Sixth Grade to the Early Stage of Fifth Grade was significant, but that was all it was.

To Fang Han, now at the Early Stage of Fourth Grade, there was no fundamental difference between the Late Stage of Sixth Grade and the Early Stage of Fifth Grade.

The gap between them had widened into a hopeless chasm.

The instant before Gong Xing’s poisoned claws, whistling shrilly through the air, could touch his clothes—

SHIING!

A clear cry, like a dragon’s roar, suddenly rang through the forest!

This wasn’t the release of long-gathered power. It was pure, ultimate speed. It was as if the flash of the blade bloomed at the very same moment its cry rang out.

Fang Han hadn’t even moved his feet. The wrist of his sword hand had simply twitched, a minute movement at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye.

The blade, bright as autumn frost yet suffused with a terrifyingly sharp aura, became a fine, pale-green line—so thin it was almost invisible, so fast it outpaced thought itself.

It swept horizontally before him, almost gently.

Where the flash of the sword passed, the air was sliced open without a sound, leaving a transient, transparent ripple in its wake.

Time seemed to stretch infinitely, then compress into a single, negligible instant.

Gong Xing, in mid-lunge—his crazed expression, his forward Momentum, the faint blue glow of his claws—all froze in an instant.

His forward momentum didn’t falter, but the movement of his arms froze in mid-air.

First, a paper-thin red line appeared on his neck.

The next moment—

PSHHH—!

Blood erupted!

The red line widened abruptly as scalding blood geysered out, tracing a grimly beautiful arc in the sunlight.

Carried by inertia, his body stumbled forward two more steps before collapsing like a boneless sack of skin.

He fell limply to the ground, kicking up a spray of dust and dead leaves.

His eyes, still wide open, held the last vestiges of his madness and disbelief.

But the light in his pupils was already fading, flickering out like a candle in the wind.

His clawed hands, having not even had time to block or change their attack, went limp.

With a CLANK, the pair of faint blue claws dropped onto the blood-soaked earth.

From Gong Xing’s explosive attack to his collapse and death, the entire process took less than a single breath.

SHIIINK—

Fang Han slowly and deliberately slid the Cloud Splitting Sword back into its Sword Scabbard.

The Sword Scabbard and Sword Guard met with a soft click, a sound that was exceptionally clear in the suddenly deathly-still forest.

He strode over to Gong Xing’s corpse, squatted down, and began to search it with practiced ease.

The first things he found were several Jade Bottles and Porcelain Bottles, containing Elixirs of various colors.

Fang Han uncorked the bottles and gave them a quick sniff. Some were for restoring Inner Qi, some were for healing, and one had a pungent, acrid smell, likely a poison or an Elixir for forcibly stimulating one’s potential.

He had no interest in identifying them more closely, and certainly no intention of consuming these items of dubious origin that Gong Xing might have tampered with.

Next, he pulled a thick, oilcloth-wrapped bundle from inside Gong Xing’s clothes.

After untying the thin cord, he found it packed with neat, tight stacks of brand-new silver notes.

The denominations were all large—fifty thousand or even one hundred thousand taels each—issued by several highly reputable Money Shops.

A quick glance revealed a staggering amount.

Fang Han did a quick count. The total was around 5.3 million taels.

’As I thought, he was carrying most of the wealth on him.’

Fang Han understood.

The proceeds from the Gong Family’s sale of their assets—aside from the portion left with the caravan for bribes and maintaining their disguise—were clearly carried by Gong Xing, their "great hope for the future," to fund a potential comeback.

It was a shame that this hope had now been extinguished along with the rest of the Gong Family.

He wrapped the silver notes back up and carefully put them away.

His gaze swept over the pair of faint blue claws on the ground.

The bodies of the claws were dark, their edges glowing with an ominous blue light. The material seemed to be a metal alloy, but the craftsmanship was far from top-level.

Fang Han prodded them with his Sword Scabbard, confirming they were merely a pair of decent-quality Middle-grade Weapons.

’Panel.’

At his thought, a translucent system panel materialized before his eyes.

[Host: Fang Han]

[Root Bone Talent Amplification: 128x (Level 8 Amplification requires 1,000,000 gold)]

[Swordsmanship Talent Amplification: 128x (Level 8 Amplification requires 1,000,000 gold)]

[Stepping Talent Amplification: 128x (Level 8 Amplification requires 10,000,000 silver)]

[Secret Technique Talent Amplification: 64x (Level 7 Amplification requires 10,000,000 silver)]

[Wealth Owned: 19,120,000 silver]

’Convert.’

He focused his thoughts on the Elixirs and the pair of faint blue claws.

Instantly, the medicine bottles, the Elixirs within them, and the poisoned claws vanished from the ground as if wiped away by an invisible eraser.

On the panel, the number in the [Wealth Owned] field flickered.

[Wealth Owned: 19,120,000 silver → 19,190,000 silver]

It had only increased by seventy thousand taels.

’Just Middle Grade, as I suspected.’

The small increase in wealth verified Fang Han’s judgment: the claws were Middle Grade at best, and rather ordinary ones at that.

"It’s over."

Fang Han exhaled.

Gong Xing, the man who had hired an assassin to kill him, was now dead.

His family’s main contingent had been eliminated back on the main road.

The matter was now closed.

The forest was silent, save for the wind rustling through the leaves and the faint, distant cries of unknown birds and beasts.

Fang Han rose to his feet. After one last glance at Gong Xing’s cooling corpse, he turned to leave.

He activated Wind and Cloud Escape. His figure drifted away like a wisp of smoke, and after a few bounds, he was heading out of the forest.

「A few hours later.」

SWOOSH!

Fang Han emerged silently from a dense thicket.

His steps were light, his body like a falling leaf, as he landed without a sound at the edge of the main road.

He brushed a few stray bits of grass from the hem of his green robe.

The Cloud Splitting Sword at his waist seemed to shimmer with a restrained coldness in the sunlight, as if it could slice through the very light itself.

RUMBLE...

Just as he set foot on the flat road, the rumbling of wheels and the clatter of hooves grew louder as they approached from the distance.