The night was deep and dark, and the locust tree was silent and still.

Suddenly, a figure appeared on the wall surrounding the courtyard.

In his dark robes, he was only dimly discernable. He was thin as bamboo, and he carried a human corpse in each hand. With a swing of his arms, he flung both corpses into the courtyard. Then, he sprang into the air and landed beside them.

“Eh? Qing Wan, is someone living here?” It was so dark out that the Daoist had only just noticed that someone had swept the overgrown, long-abandoned courtyard. Everything looked fresh and new.

Qing Wan said nothing. Su Yi’s indifferent voice answered him in her place. “Wu Ruoqiu, you’re finally here.” 

He rose from his bamboo chair, his right hand loosely gripping his peach wood sword. He stood in the darkness, silently staring at his opponent.

Wu Ruoqiu looked like he was about forty years old. His complexion was pale and clear, with a willowy beard, a sword strapped to his back, and a yellow-skinned gourd at his waist. He looked as if he’d transcended the world of the mundane.

“Who are you? Why do you know my name?” Wu Ruoqiu was stunned, and he instantly went on guard. 

As soon as he spoke, he let out a strange, shrill whistle. 

But even after waiting for quite some time, the expected results never came. 

Wu Ruoqiu’s heart sank, and he was a bit frantic. What’s going on? Where are they?

“I killed all the Ghoul Worms,” said Su Yi, strolling towards him with complete confidence. “You can shout yourself hoarse if you like, but it won’t do you any good.”

“Who exactly are you?” Wu Ruoqiu shouted. His eyes glinted sharply, and he readied himself for battle.

“Don’t be in such a rush. Before we fight, there’s something I’d like to ask you.” Su Yi was already standing just ten feet from Wu Ruoqiu.

Only then did Wu Ruoqiu see him clearly and realize that he was dealing with a teenager. The tall, lean young man wore blue robes and held a wooden sword. From his aura, Wu Ruoqiu could tell he was still only in the Blood Circulation Realm. 

Wu Ruoqiu instantly relaxed, his gaze self-deprecating. I’m really turning into a coward. A mere Blood Circulation Realm whelp practically scared me out of my wits! 

He stood with his hands behind his back and said coldly, “Young man, you’re still not qualified to discuss things with me. Go call for your master. I’d like to ask him how he teaches his disciples. You clearly don’t have any manners!” 

His connection with the Ghoul Worms in the well had been severed, and even Qing Wan was nowhere to be seen. This made Wu Ruoqiu suspect that there was an expert backing Su Yi.

Su Yi laughed and shook his head. “If I met someone worthy of being my master, I might very well rejoice, but unfortunately…. I’ve yet to encounter such a person.”

Wu Ruoqiu was stunned. He jeered, “You’ve yet to even finish growing body hair, but you sure can talk! If you don’t call for your master, don’t blame me for my poor manners!”

The glint in his eyes flashed, and his aura suddenly changed. He circulated his energy, and shockingly, a faint roar, like a surging tide, rang out.

This was the power of the Qi Accumulation Realm.

When a martial artist activated their power, their blood and qi gathered and flared up.

By guiding your qi in battle, you could ensure that every movement was so precise, it was as if it had been measured with a ruler, not even a millimeter off. This represented an exquisite level of control over one’s own power.

Wu Ruoqiu was a Qi Accumulation Realm, Unblocking Acupoints stage cultivator. His skin was like bronze, his muscles like stones, his bones like iron, and his sinews like jade. Ordinary weapons could barely scratch him.

A faint hint of mockery tugged at Su Yi’s lips. “‘Poor manners’? I’ll be interested to see just what an Unblocking Acupoints small fry’s poor manners are like!”

“I’ve traveled this world for a long time, and I’ve seen my fair share of arrogance, but I’ve never seen anyone as arrogant as you!” Wu Ruoqiu laughed in anger.

An ‘Unblocking Acupoints small fry’? 

Listen to him! Does he even know what he’s saying?

Wu Ruoqiu suddenly leaped forward, his sleeves billowing as he reached for Su Yi’s neck.

Boom!

A Qi Accumulation Realm Expert attacked with all the force and speed of lightning, sharp and despotic. His momentum alone could scare Blood Circulation Realm cultivators out of their wits!

Wu Ruoqiu’s plan was simple. First, he’d take Su Yi captive. Then, he’d force the expert behind him out of hiding, putting himself in an unbeatable position.

Seizing Su Yi was the task at hand.

But then….

A hint of an illusory sword flashed in the depths of Su Yi’s gaze, and a vast, cold, terrifying presence surged forth.

Boom!

It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck Wu Ruqiu’s spiritual sea. His mind throbbed, and everything went black. It was as if he’d plummeted straight into the endless landscape of hell. A mysterious immortal blade flew in from beyond the heavens, shattering and suppressing destiny.

At that moment, the four directions, the heavens above, and the ground below all brimmed with terrifying sword intent. The illusory sword hummed, filling his ears like the infuriated roaring of the gods.

A feeling of insignificance, helplessness, despair, and terror rose within Wu Ruoqiu, dealing a devastating blow to his mental state. He almost collapsed.

This feeling only lasted an instant.

But after this shock, Wu Ruoqiu paused mid-charge. He was now exactly five steps away from Su Yi.

Five steps. That was the standard distance for a life and death battle between martial artists.

At five steps away, even an emperor would be hard-pressed to defend himself. At close quarters, a single man was more threatening than a hostile nation!

When he was five steps away, Su Yi took action. 

It was just a simple stab.

But it was fast! And accurate! And ruthless!

It was as if he’d drawn his sword countless times and were acting on pure instinct. His speed and precision were unmatched, as was his ruthlessness.

Spurt!

The dull wooden sword pierced right through Wu Ruoqiu’s chest, shattering his ribs like rotten wood and coming out the other side.

Fresh, hot blood dripped from the tip of the blade, pouring from the newly-opened hole in his back.

The force of the blow was so sudden and violent that Wu Ruoqiu bent forward, like a prawn in boiling water. His eyes bulged, and he looked dazed, as if he dared not believe what was happening.

“You…” he rasped, “Are you really in the Blood Circulation Realm?”

“Indeed, I’m the genuine article.” Su Yi pulled the sword from the man’s chest, then took three steps back.

Wu Ruoqiu shook violently. Blood spurted from the wound like a geyser and poured down like a waterfall. If Su Yi hadn’t dodged just in time, he would have been drenched. 

Thud!

Wu Ruoqiu tumbled into the dirt, gasping for breath.

His wounds were so severe that he could sense his life force slipping away. 

“You… Didn’t you have something you wanted to ask me….? Why… Why did you strike so ruthlessly? If I die, you won’t learn…. Anything at all.” Wu Ruoqiu struggled to speak. He truly didn’t understand.

“Oh,” said Su Yi casually, “I’ve already lost interest in knowing.”

“.....” Wu Ruoqiu was so angry he hacked up a mouthful of blood. He gnashed his teeth and cried out hatefully, “You ruined my sect’s master plan! Just you wait; they’ll get their revenge!”

With those final words, Wu Ruoqiu collapsed in the dirt and breathed no more. His eyes were still wide with resentment.

He never would have guessed that one wrong move would lead to him falling at the hands of a Blood Circulation Realm teenager. 

“He couldn’t even endure a single imprint’s aura.” Su Yi shook his head. “The martial artists of the Great Zhou sure have weak souls….”

Just now, he’d used a thread of the Sword of the Nine Hells’ aura. 

It was just a single, miniscule wisp, yet it was more than a Qi Accumulation martial artist like Wu Ruoqiu could bear. It dealt a shock directly to his soul.

Su Yi had seized the gap this momentary shock created to pierce right through his ribcage.

“If I’d known it would be this easy, I would have faced him directly. It might have been a bit more trouble, but my current cultivation combined with my attainments in the Dao of the Sword would have been enough to kill him.”

Su Yi had assumed that since Wu Ruoqiu was a heretical cultivator, he was sure to have mastered numerous dark and sinister arts. That was why he chose not to clash with him head on. Instead, he’d expended some of his cultivation to call upon one of his trump cards.

Who would have thought that his foe would rely purely on his cultivation to attack? He hadn’t used any dark or secret arts at all!

“It seems I took the heretical cultivators of the mundane world too seriously,” Su Yi said with an air of self-mockery.

Looking back on it, it wasn’t that Wu Ruoqiu was stupid. It was just that as a Qi Accumulation Realm expert, he’d underestimated his Blood Circulation Realm opponent right from the start. 

Clearly, looking weak was actually an advantage; it made foes careless and complacent. 

“Do you know which sect Wu Ruoqiu belonged to?” Su Yi glanced at the nearby locust tree.

“Mystic Master, I… I’m afraid I don’t know.” A panicked, shadowy red figure appeared upon one of its branches.

Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her dress, and she lowered her head. Her little face, still slightly chubby with baby-fat, looked tiny, helpless, and pitiful. 

She’d witnessed Wu Ruoqiu’s death firsthand, and if she hadn’t clamped her hands tightly around her mouth, she would have shrieked. 

Su Yi asked no further questions. He just crouched and started rifling through Wu Ruoqiu’s possessions.

A sheathed longsword, a yellow gourd, three thousand-tael silver notes, about twenty taels of scattered silver in his pockets, and a yellowed scroll so battered, only a few pages remained.

There was nothing else worthy of attention.

First, Su Yi put the notes and silver away. Then, he unfurled the scroll.

Most of the scroll was ruined. The remaining pages described the wicked art of raising Ghoul Worms through human sacrifice; the content was utterly dark and heretical.

After hurriedly skimming the text, Su Yi couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Even if he compared it to other unorthodox or heretical techniques, this scroll’s secret arts were pathetically crude; it was almost hilarious. 

But the single line of text at the very bottom of the final page drew his attention:

“From Weng Yunqi of the Deathbringer’s Gate, to his apprentice, Wu Ruoqiu.”

Su Yi instantly understood. The sect behind Wu Ruoqiu was this so-called “Deathbringer’s Gate”, and his master was called Weng Yunqi. 

“Before he died, he said something about me ruining his sect’s plans? It seems that Wu Ruoqiu was raising those Ghoul Worms on the Deathbringer’s Gate’s orders.” Su Yi’s eyebrows shot up.

He had a hunch that this wasn’t the only place the Deathbringer’s Gate was raising Ghoul Worms in.

In other words, there were likely similar “worm farms” in other parts of Guangling City.

Su Yi pondered a moment, then ripped the tattered scroll to shreds. If anyone else discovered a vile art like this, it could lead to disaster.

Next, he picked up the sheathed sword.

The sheath was made of iron, and when he drew the blade, the stench of blood and rotting flesh assailed his nostrils. 

Su Yi furrowed his brow in disgust.

The sword was made of pine, but it was dyed a bloody red, while its edge was a sickly, lustrous green. It was vile beyond belief. 

“He actually used the menstrual blood of virgins to temper his sword? What kind of heretical cultivator was he? How worthless!” Su Yi shook his head, feeling repulsed.

Crunch!

Su Yi exerted strength through his fingers, crushing the pine sword into shards. Then, he set it on fire until nothing but ash remained. 

When he picked up the last remaining object, something finally piqued his interest. “Oh? This gourd is actually rather interesting.”

“At five steps away, even an emperor would be hard-pressed to defend himself. At close quarters, a single man was more threatening than a hostile nation!”

The author seems to be referencing the historical novel “Emperor Qianlong” here. I could be wrong; I haven’t read the book in question, and I had to do a little digging to translate this line. it looks like this is almost a quote but not quite; I would guess the author is misremembering it, or that he picked it up from some secondary source. 

The basic meaning is that an immediate threat is more terrifying than a powerful but distant foe, ie a single angry man can be more dangerous than an entire empire.