Song Yuyan had countless times imagined the scene of His Highness recovering his strength and sweeping away all his enemies.
But the man before her now was completely different from the His Highness in her memories, no matter how she looked at him. The gap between them was far, far too great.
His Highness excelled with the sword. His aura was righteous and gentle, imbued with the nobility and benevolence of the Royal Family—the air of a true king.
But this man used a saber. His aura was cold and murderous, his techniques vicious and merciless, as if he were born only to kill. He didn’t possess a shred of a king’s aura, let alone that of an emperor.
The faint hope hidden in the depths of her heart shattered once again.
Disappointment mingled with shock at the bloody scene before her, leaving her with an indescribable mix of emotions.
’But she also knew that was all just wishful thinking. Even if nothing had ever happened to His Highness, it would be impossible for him to have cultivated to such a terrifying level by his seventies.’
The slaughter downstairs was nearing its end.
The experts from the Prince’s Mansion and the Yixiang Building who had come with Tu Gang now all lay dead on the floor. Many were familiar faces from the past—and, of course, enemies of the Qinhuai Building.
At some point, Qian Tong had tried to slip out the back door, only to be nailed to the doorframe by a flying blast of Sword Qi. His face was frozen in terror and indignation. In the past, he had often ordered the pursuit and killing of the women of the Qinhuai Building.
In the vast lobby of the Yixiang Building, the only ones still standing were the Cloaked Guest—bathed in blood, yet unstained by a single drop—Tu Gang, whose face was as pale as paper and whose sword hand trembled, and Lady Yu, slumped against a window and on the verge of fainting.
"Who... Who are you? What grudge do you hold against the Prince’s Mansion? Against the Yixiang Building?" Tu Gang panted, his voice hoarse and laced with an almost imperceptible fear. His desire to retreat was obvious.
But he knew his chances of surviving today were slim. His opponent had no intention of letting him go.
The Cloaked Guest remained silent. He slowly raised his saber, its tip pointed at Tu Gang as a grim, murderous aura erupted from him.
A terrifying, condensed killing intent, so palpable it felt physical, locked onto him, paralyzing him with fear. He didn’t even dare try to flee.
Tu Gang knew there was no room for negotiation. Today, it would be a fight to the death.
A vicious glint flashed in his eyes. With a fierce roar, his face contorted into a savage mask.
He abandoned all defense, pouring his entire Power into his Soft Sword. Achieving Sword and Man Unity, he transformed into a piercing rainbow of sword light, lunging at the Cloaked Guest’s heart in a suicidal gambit. It was the ultimate, desperate attack, containing a lifetime of Power.
The Cloaked Guest remained unperturbed. Facing Tu Gang’s Attack, his movements seemed to slow.
The long saber in his hand traced a simple, ancient arc—a trajectory that seemed to hold some profound, universal truth. It met the rainbow of sword light, unhurried and effortless.
There was no earth-shattering collision, no aura that raged in all directions.
Only a faint SHHIIING, like the sound of tearing silk.
The rainbow of sword light shattered. Tu Gang’s forward charge came to an abrupt halt. He looked down, staring at his own chest in disbelief.
A thin, thread-like cut slowly appeared there, then widened as blood gushed out like a fountain, impossible to staunch.
He opened his mouth, trying to say something, but only bloody foam bubbled up. He couldn’t speak.
The light in his eyes rapidly faded. His burly frame crashed to the ground like a collapsing mountain, his breathing ceasing entirely.
Tu Gang, the Supreme-Rank Chief Steward of Prince Zhenbei’s Mansion in the Capital City, a master who had reached the Celestial Human Late Stage, was dead. Just like that.
Even for Prince Zhenbei’s Mansion, Tu Gang was an incredibly important figure.
The Cloaked Guest sheathed his saber and turned, his gaze rising to the fifth-floor window where Lady Yu lay collapsed, scared witless.
She didn’t even dare to flee, for she could feel the Cloaked Guest’s focus locked entirely upon her.
The Cloaked Guest didn’t bother going up. He simply raised a hand and flicked his finger.
A beam of Sword Qi, so condensed it seemed solid, shot through the air. It passed precisely through the window and pierced Lady Yu’s forehead without the slightest resistance.
Lady Yu’s delicate body trembled. The fear and allure in her eyes were frozen for eternity as she slumped to the side, her life extinguished.
And so this venomous woman, who had run the Yixiang Building for decades and brought ruin to the Qinhuai Building time and again, died.
Having finished, the Cloaked Guest surveyed the hall, which now resembled Hell. His gaze lingered for a moment on the Erotic Paintings and various other implements of ambiguous purpose before he collected the Yixiang Building’s valuables, paying special attention to the Spirit Talismans on Tu Gang’s corpse.
His foe hadn’t even had a chance to use them.
Then, just as unhurriedly as he had arrived, he began to walk out.
Wherever he passed, the surviving Male Prostitutes, Maids, and the few guests who had managed to escape the carnage all trembled, not daring to even breathe, terrified of provoking this murderous fiend.
Just like that, he walked out of the Yixiang Building, out of the blood and fire, and vanished into the vast night as if he had never been there. No one knew who he was.
He left behind a deathly silent, luxurious Hell, littered with severed limbs and drenched in blood. And on the rooftop opposite, a woman in black robes stood, her heart pounding, unable to tear her gaze away.
The night wind blew past, carrying an even stronger stench of blood, but to her, it smelled fragrant. It was the blood of her enemies.
The Yixiang Building’s leadership, those who had once persecuted the Qinhuai Building, had been all but wiped out. Her people could handle the rest.
Song Yuyan slowly let out a long breath, only then realizing her palms were slick with cold sweat and her back was soaked. Yet, her entire body felt a lightness she had never known before.
Yixiang Building... the nightmare that had weighed on her and the Qinhuai Building for years. This den of vipers that had been plotting yet another vicious scheme only moments ago. This butcher that had harmed so many of her sisters.
And in less time than it takes an incense stick to burn, it had been uprooted by a mysterious expert in the bloodiest, most violent, and most gratifying way imaginable. Its leadership was annihilated.
’Was it satisfying?’
’Yes!’
’How could it not be, to see such a great vengeance exacted!’
But more than satisfaction, there was shock, astonishment, doubt, and that one lingering trace of disappointment.
"It’s not him... If only it had been."
Song Yuyan murmured to herself, gazing in the direction the mysterious expert had vanished. Her cool eyes reflected the distant, blood-stained glow of the Yixiang Building’s still-lit red lanterns.
"Your Highness... If only it were you. But that’s impossible!"
’If this Cloaked Guest’s power was only at the Second Grade Grandmaster Realm, or even the First Grade Grandmaster Realm, then it might have been possible.’
’But he was clearly a Super Grade Celestial Human—a Super Grade Perfection Celestial Human, no less. How could that possibly be His Highness? Everything about him was so foreign: his aura, his build, his movements, his Cultivation Technique, his Combat Techniques... all of it was completely unfamiliar.’
The deep night concealed the slaughter, and it concealed the sighs.
And the true wielder of the saber had already removed his Disguise and returned to the seemingly decrepit shell within Wenhua Hall, as if he had merely gone out for a stroll.

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