Chapter 97: You Are Merely Bait

“Idiot,” Ling Xiao said with a faint laugh.

“When you, Ma Changlong, hunted down the Cai grandfather and grandson for your own selfish gain, you should have expected this day.”

“The strong prey on the weak. That has always been the rule of the world.”

“If you cannot even see that, what grand ambitions are you talking about? Conqueror of the Northwest? What a joke.”

“You—” Ma Changlong pointed at Ling Xiao in fury.

“Brat, don’t get clever with me here. I don’t care what heavenly being you think you are. Once you set foot in the Northwest, even the Jade Emperor himself would have to kneel before me. Today you killed my son, and I will flay you, tear out your sinews, and carve you to death with a thousand cuts before I can honor my son’s spirit.”

“Master Ma, there’s no need to waste breath on him. We have so many men. Killing him is as easy as crushing an ant.”

“That’s right, Master Ma, give the order! We’ll beat him to death with clubs and use his head to honor Young Master Ma’s soul!”

“Master Ma, kill him, then kill Shen Qingshan, and the entire Northwest will be yours!”

“A pack of fools,” Ling Xiao said, shaking his head as he lit a cigarette.

“Ming Cheng, kill.”

Ming Cheng licked the back of his hand, red light blazing in his eyes.

“Gladly.”

The moment the words fell, he stamped his foot. The green bricks beneath him split at once, cracking in spiderweb lines.

The recoil hurled his body forward like a cannon shot.

In the next instant, he had already plunged into the crowd. One punch, and a cloud of blood burst open!

Boom, boom, boom...

In the blink of an eye, that mighty force of ten thousand men was scattered by Ming Cheng as if they were nothing more than sand.

Facing him, ten thousand people were no different from ants, utterly unable to resist.

The difference between ordinary mortals and martial cultivators was laid bare in an instant.

“Ah—!”

“Help! Run for your lives!!”

Shrieks rose one after another.

In that instant, their arrogant bluster was beaten down completely. None of them dared shout as before.

At this moment, here and now, they were nothing but a swarm of tiny ants struggling for survival. One step too slow, and they would be reduced to ashes, leaving no trace behind.

Blood flowed, soaking the bricks and the grass, then slowly ran to Ma Changlong’s feet, drowning the heel of his leather shoe.

Ma Changlong shuddered, the fury in his heart gradually crushed beneath terror.

He stared at the scene in utter disbelief.

“You... you martial cultivators actually dare to kill so openly? Do you... do you still have any respect for the rules? Aren’t you afraid of the Dragon Division?”

“If we were afraid, we wouldn’t kill,” Ling Xiao said.

He walked up to him and slapped the old man’s face, each blow crisp and sharp.

“Old man, let me teach you something. If you’re ugly, admit it. If you’re useless, stand there and take the beating. Compared to me, you’re still far behind.”

Ma Changlong moved his lips as if he wanted to say something, but in the end no words came out.

All his thoughts collapsed into a single sentence.

“I am the key man supported by Kongtong! If you kill me, they will not let you go!”

Ling Xiao smiled lightly and turned to leave.

“Why do you think Kongtong supported you? Because they needed bait to lure me to the Northwest.”

Those words sent Ma Changlong plummeting into utter despair.

He staggered and fell to his knees on the ground, his face blank with hopelessness.

“So... so I was only bait.”

Only now did he finally understand how ridiculous he had been.

He had even brought his son’s coffin to Shen Manor to challenge them.

He had even been so self-righteous as to believe that once the Shen family was destroyed, no one in the Northwest could stand against him.

He had even believed Kongtong would be his backer.

It turned out all of it had been nothing but a dream.

And he himself was merely a small insect inside that dream, a tiny piece of bait.

He turned back and looked at that retreating figure, crying in helpless despair.

Ming Cheng was still weaving through the crowd.

By the time Ling Xiao had walked more than six miles away and left the area surrounded by luxury cars, Ming Cheng finally stopped.

“Consider yourselves lucky, you little bastards. Remember this for the future: the Young Master of Ghost Valley, Ling the Unbeatable, is not someone you can provoke.”

He spat to the side, then kicked to death a potbellied man in an Armani suit before quickly hurrying after Ling Xiao.

Inside the estate, the servants were already so terrified they were foaming at the mouth.

What had just happened was something none of them would ever have a chance to witness again in their lives.

It was simply too horrifying.

More than ten thousand people, all crushed by one man alone.

Ming Cheng was like the scythe of death, reaping lives without pause. It was truly terrifying.

Shen Qingshan fared a little better, though he had vomited so much that even last night’s dinner was gone.

The stench of blood in the air was far too fresh, too thick.

Even Feng Wu could not help shivering, her heartbeat so fast that even breathing had become difficult.

“Isn’t the Young Master... a little too overbearing?” she murmured.

Gu Mingyan smiled softly.

“Men should take the heavens as their sea and the earth as their road, ruling the world with overwhelming force and riding the dragon through the sky. For power, what is killing?”

“Tell Shen Qingshan to clean up the outside. It’s a complete mess. What sort of sight is that?”

“Yes...”

...

After leaving Shen Manor, Ming Cheng was still unsatisfied.

“Hahaha... that felt incredible. Young Master, that killing was so satisfying. What a pity these were only ordinary mortals. If it had been a crowd of martial cultivators, that would have been even better.”

“What are you in such a rush for? Once the contest among the hundred sects begins, there will be plenty for you to do.”

“True enough. Those Kongtong bastards may already be on their way. The moment they come, I’ll make them regret ever opposing you, Young Master.”

Ling Xiao shook his head, somewhat speechless.

“You’re no longer a Martial Emperor. You’d better improve your cultivation first before talking about anything else.”

“Uh...”

Ming Cheng’s burning enthusiasm was instantly doused by that splash of cold water.

After a pause, he asked again, “Young Master, where are we going now?”

“To the Cai ancestral home.”

“What are we going there for?”

“Before I came to the Northwest, Cai Changyuan asked Cai Xiaoya to guide me. I promised him I would help him reclaim the Cai ancestral home.”

...

The Cai family had stood in the Northwest for hundreds of years. Though they could not be counted among the great aristocratic houses, they were still distinctive in their own right.

After all, the Cai family’s craft was no ordinary thing. Otherwise, Ma Changlong would not have wanted Cai Changyuan to work as his chef.

If Cai Changyuan had any intention of developing his future, his skill alone would have been enough to build an easy fortune.

But Cai Changyuan only wanted to carry on the ancestral craft left behind by his forebears, and did not wish to involve himself too deeply in profit-making.

Ling Xiao appreciated that kind of artisan spirit.

Without people like them, the things left behind over thousands of years in this land of Hua would long ago have vanished without a trace.

By the time they arrived at the Cai residence, Ling Xiao saw Cai Xiaoya from a distance, standing alone at the gate, gazing at the plaque above the entrance with a look of quiet remembrance.

“Cai Xiaoya didn’t stay in the estate last night. I’m guessing she spent the whole night here.”