Chapter 51: War of Words and Wit

"You—how did you do it!"
"Why don't you take a guess, Master Ye?" Yu Youwei blinked playfully, teasing with a smile. "Looks like you're destined to stumble today, doesn't it feel novel?"
Ning Mofei's face grew wary, his expression thick with dread. "I can leave this fool's body, but you must swear a demon oath to come to the Chaotic Abyss within a hundred years and release my seal."
Yu Youwei froze, then shook her head sharply. "Master Ye, you overestimate me. Let's talk about something more realistic."
"With your talent, ascending in a hundred years isn't difficult. Moreover, you're cunning; your odds of dying are low. Coming to the Chaotic Abyss to release my seal within a century is not impossible."
"Master Ye, you seem to have forgotten: Mofei's intellect is like a child's, and his cold ailment is incurable. If I give him medicine to make him a fool for life, I wouldn't feel guilty. There's no need for me to risk this for him. Chaotic Abyss doesn't sound like a good place—I'd have to be mad to swear that oath. Why not have Mofei swear it? If you truly pass your legacy to him, it's reasonable for him to take the risk for you."
"Fine, then let this fool have the benefit!"
After a bout of verbal sparring, Yu Youwei got the result she wanted.
Indeed, Master Ye of Nine Nether Peak was a genius without compare. A fragment of his soul poured all his life's knowledge into Ning Mofei, then withdrew from Mofei's body and lodged itself within the Soul-Devouring Sword. At the same time, Mofei gained full control of the sword.
He closed his eyes, and his body ceased emitting cold; the white mist in the room surged and rolled into him, vanishing in an instant. When he opened his eyes again, he cried out in alarm, "Youwei, there's a sword growing in my belly!"
"Let it stay there. Aside from the patriarch and Third Brother, don't tell anyone about this, understood?" Yu Youwei finished, then turned sharply.
The portal shimmered with white light; a woman's figure wrapped in black mist appeared.
"Lan Mei, you actually managed to find your way here?"
Yu Youwei recognized her as Lan Mei from the Tianyuan Auction House. She raised her hand, and Green Frost stabbed forth; sword shadows bloomed like layered lotus petals, swirling around Lan Mei in a fierce vortex.

No sooner had Lan Mei stepped out of the teleportation array than she was trapped within the lotus sword shadows. She shrieked, and beside her, a puppet wreathed in black flames appeared. The flames rippled like underwater weeds, their color dark as ink but not the deepest black, radiating a soul-shaking pressure. Explosions sounded in quick succession as the lotus sword shadows struck the puppet, bursting apart and swallowed by the black flames in an instant.
"Even if you flee to the ends of the earth, you can't escape the pursuit of Nine Nether Palace!" Lan Mei sneered.
"Such arrogance!" Yu Youwei had no patience for words. With a move called "Triple Azure Wave," she unleashed a destructive surge of blue sword light, crashing forth like a raging tide.
The puppet bore the brunt of the attack, disintegrating piece by piece under the sword energy, fragments shooting outward. Lan Mei shouted furiously, "You wretch, I'll flay you alive!"
"I'm very angry," Ning Mofei roared. Though he lay there, he was like an unsheathed, murderous sword, intimidating all who looked upon him.
Yu Youwei caught sight of a flicker of black flame. A silent hole appeared in Lan Mei's forehead; no blood flowed, her body shriveled rapidly—one could believe she was a century-old corpse.
"Soul-Devouring Sword—it truly devours souls!" The desiccated Lan Mei muttered, then collapsed stiffly.
The scene was bizarre. Yu Youwei stared for a moment, then turned to ask in astonishment, "How did you do it?"
"The bad woman scolded Youwei and tried to hit her. I'm very angry," Ning Mofei pouted, showing no sign of remorse for his recent kill.
His eyes were clear and bright, devoid of the cold indifference toward all life. Under Yu Youwei's gaze, anxiety surfaced; he bit his lip and whispered like a child who'd done wrong, "Did I do something bad?"
It was clearly an instinctive reaction from Ning Mofei! Confirming this, a captivating smile bloomed on Yu Youwei's tense face. "No, Mofei, you did just right. Hmm, Mofei, is there anywhere less likely to be discovered than hiding in the study?"
"The Ancestral Pool, but only Ning family blood can enter."
The speaker was not Ning Mofei, but Ning Baixia. He appeared silently beside Lan Mei's corpse, his eternally icy face showing shock.
Yu Youwei offered no explanation, only emphasizing, "Black Shamans must never discover Mofei."

Taking a deep breath, Ning Baixia asked nothing. He raised his hand, an intense wave of fire swept over the corpse, reducing it to ash in a moment. He hurried to the wooden couch, picked up his brother, then turned and stared at Yu Youwei with a complex gaze—gratitude, confusion, and a feeling that defied description.
Counting all the men Yu Youwei had encountered across her lives, Ning Baixia was undoubtedly outstanding. Any other woman would have her heart fluttering under his gaze; she, on the contrary, felt a twinge of annoyance.
Ning Mofei, though dazed, was keenly attuned to Yu Youwei's moods. He pouted and said, "Third Brother, don't be mean to Youwei."
Ning Baixia was taken aback, then quickly resumed his habitual icy expression. "I'll take Mofei to the Ancestral Pool," he said coolly, then vanished with Mofei, as if fleeing in haste.
Yu Youwei followed close behind; when she emerged from the portal, the brothers were already gone. She glanced at the stone wall at the end of the passage, then turned and headed toward the surface.
On the western side of Yongqing Hall, the buildings had been destroyed, blood and corpses scattered among the ruins. Sunlight filtered through dense leaves extending from the eastern rooftops, casting suspended patches of light. Dust, graceful as butterflies, danced and swirled within the beams, yet the air remained thick with the stench of blood and the chilling aura of the Black Shamans.
Yu Youwei's heart sank: The Ning estate had been invaded all the way to the forbidden grounds. The Black Shamans were determined to claim the Soul-Devouring Sword. Could Mofei keep it safe?
"Sister-in-law, return to the study—it’s safe there."
Ning Baixia's voice rang at her ear; Yu Youwei only caught a fleeting shadow passing by and followed silently.
Deep in the medicinal garden, Little White Bear glanced in the direction Yu Youwei had gone, waving its paw in frustration. "How unlucky must Bear Lord be to have signed up with such a master? Does she have any sense of a rookie? Why does she always run toward danger?"
In front of it, Little Thunder Eagle finished preening its feathers. Its jet-black eyes rolled, then it shot into the sky as a flash of lightning, heading in the same direction as Yu Youwei.
Outside the city, a manor backed by forest was heavily sealed by soldiers. A team of cultivators from Jiangning Prefecture had just assembled. Xiang Cunxu personally led his subordinates for this raid; beside him stood two people, both familiar to Yu Youwei: Ghost Seven and the arrogant, unruly woman in yellow.
After their last clash with Yu Youwei and her companions, they had lost badly. Later, the Ning elders suppressed the matter. Now, seeing her again, it was true that enemies’ eyes burned with fury. Even after a warning glance from Xiang Cunxu, the woman in yellow still sneered, "The Ning family fool has come to watch the excitement. If he gets knocked around and goes to reason with the Black Shamans, I doubt they'll listen."