An aloof smile appeared on the others’ face. “That’s right. How difficult it is… Lao Meng is my client, wanting to utilize me to silently kill. Zhao Jing is my client, wanting to utilize me to impede his partner, Lao Meng. Sun Ding is my client, too, wanting to utilize me to fabricate a bunch of falsehoods, frame Xue Fang — whose whereabouts are still unknown — for the things he had done, and thus eliminate his nemesis via the Valley’s rules and the Ghost Master’s hands… as for me, I was originally a businessman that relied on killing people and selling things to grow my enterprise. If one can’t fish up some money in troubled waters, how could they be worthy of the title of ‘Poisonous Scorpion’? …Wouldn’t you agree, Sect Leader Yu?”

He shook his head, then stood. An underling immediately stepped forth and draped a large cloak over the Scorpion, who no longer looked at Yu Qiufeng. “Four Seasons Manor has lied low for over ten years. I heard that it was playing lackey for the Dynasty. Heh… what are they, even? This martial forest is now in the palm of my hand… you’re really lucky, Sect Leader Yu, to be able to come across me when things have gotten to this extent. What a shame that I can’t give any mercy, as Lao Meng and Zhao Jing have both told me to get rid of you. I really can’t bear it, ah… but what’s to be done? All I can do is try my best to make you an understanding ghost. No need to feel grateful.”

Once he was finished speaking, he had since walked quite far away, the Poisonous Scorpions immediately following after him. Abruptly, Yu Qiufeng’s whole body jolted, and he lowered his head — a Scorpion’s hook had penetrated his back, pierced through his body, came through to the front of his chest, and jabbed apart his raggedy shirt, exposing a blue-tinged tip.

Acute pain enshrouding him, he hissed and shrieked. The Scorpion restraining him expressionlessly drew the hook out, a large amount of flesh and blood flying out with it, and then, without looking at him, turned to follow his companions.

Yu Qiufeng spasmed all over. He knew that he was going to die. Never before in his life had he been so hopeless. The sensation of sharp pain slowly dulled, numbing at first, then spreading cold throughout him. He fought to keep his eyes wide, but his vision continued to fade, as if there was an irresistible force pulling him downwards.

His hand unconsciously gripped the grass growing on the ground, pulling it up by the roots in his convulsion-like grip. All of a sudden, he saw a pair of shoes stop before his eyes. He tried hard to raise his head, but couldn’t clearly see who it was. Several piecemeal sounds came from his mouth: “Help… help… help…”