Chapter 59 – We Are from Qingyun Sect

"You dare to snatch someone from Yin-Yang Pavilion in broad daylight? Aren't you being a little too arrogant?"

The pale scholar sensed the aura of the black-clad woman before him, and his already deathly white face turned even darker.

"Hic… This old lady… hic… is stealing from you. So what!"

The black-clad woman leaped off her sword, grabbed the hilt in reverse, and swung it in a wide arc.

She was swaying unsteadily, unable to stand firm, yet the massive sword in her hands was lifted effortlessly like a mere toy.

The Yin-Yang Pavilion disciples immediately took a few steps back, afraid of getting caught in the heavy sword’s wild sweep.

"This woman is on par with me in strength, and a single water spiritual root is a top-tier dual cultivation match. It would be a shame to just let this go! I'll hold her off—you go and get the Hall Master!" The pale scholar urgently commanded his guards before drawing the short sword from his waist and pointing it at the black-clad woman.

"Hmph, we're both at the Golden Core Stage. Today, Wei shall test your skills!"

But before he could react, a hand suddenly reached out from the side and grabbed his sword.

"Test what? You want to spar with this old man instead?"

The pale scholar was shocked and turned to find a withered old man standing beside him.

He hadn't even noticed when the man had gotten so close.

The old man had white, unkempt hair, half of his face covered by a mask, and when he grinned, a mouth full of crooked, rotten teeth was revealed.

"Who the hell are you?!"

"Heh heh, take a guess?"

The old man had a sword gourd hanging from his waist, yet he didn’t draw a sword. Instead, his gnarled fingers tightened around the scholar’s short sword. Under his immense grip, the blade slowly began to bend, making a creaking sound.

A suffocating pressure locked the pale scholar in place, rendering him unable to move. His only hope now was that his men would bring the Hall Master quickly—

But then came the sound of bodies thudding to the ground.

He turned and looked, his face instantly paling further.

Three black-clad figures stood in the middle of the street, arranged from tallest to shortest. The one on the left was the tallest and thinnest, the middle one of average build, and the rightmost figure was short and plump.

All three were dressed in black, with swords at their waists, and each carried a bulging sack on their backs, its contents unknown.

Meanwhile, his subordinates were sprawled on the ground, their fates uncertain.

"You… You dare lay hands on the people of Yin-Yang Pavilion?"

The pale scholar was furious.

Yin-Yang Pavilion was no small sect—who would dare challenge them?

And besides, this confrontation had been going on for a while now.

Why hadn’t the Tianquan City guards or other sects intervened yet? Had they all returned to their mountain gates?

"Enough wasting time. Let’s grab the last batch and retreat!"

A voice called out from above.

The pale scholar looked up to see a figure stepping out onto the rooftop of a nearby building.

Clad in all black, with a black sword and a black hood, the figure had a striking contrast—a long, flowing white beard.

More importantly, his waist was adorned with a variety of weapons.

The pale scholar’s pupils shrank.

Among them—he saw his Hall Master's personal saber!

When had they raided his sect?

The pale scholar's arrogance instantly crumbled. His expression twisted into a smile uglier than crying.

"Seniors, I… I failed to recognize greatness when I saw it. The single water spiritual root disciple is yours. I will take my leave now—right now—"

"Drop all your artifacts, spirit stones, and storage pouches on the ground!"

The old man in front of him grinned wider, his wrinkled face scrunching up like a blooming chrysanthemum.

The pale scholar had no choice but to obediently hand over all his possessions.

"The jade on your neck, too."

"…"

"And your robes."

"Enough, Elder Li," the black-clad woman resting on her giant sword finally spoke up, unable to watch any longer.

"But his robes are quite nice," the old man muttered, running his hands over the fabric with fascination.

The pale scholar was on the verge of tears. "S-Seniors… May I leave now?"

"Heh heh, go on." The old man casually pocketed the short sword and released his grip.

The pale scholar bolted without hesitation.

"Take your men with you!" the old man shouted after him.

Without looking back, the pale scholar scrambled to grab his fallen subordinates and flew away in a panic.

Yin-Yang Pavilion was gone.

The five black-clad figures all turned their gazes toward Li Qingran.

She instinctively took a half-step back, lowering her head in fear before quickly bowing.

"Junior thanks the esteemed seniors for your assistance."

Although these five seemed even more dangerous than the Yin-Yang Pavilion members…

For some reason, they didn’t feel particularly threatening.

"Little one, your talent is excellent. Would you like to join our sect?"

The eccentric old man beamed at her with an oddly kind and gentle expression.

"Junior wishes to join Lingxi Valley," Li Qingran shook her head hesitantly. "Senior’s sect is surely great, but I wish to become a healer."

"You can still be a healer in our sect," the black-clad woman leaning on her sword muttered, hiccupping from her drunken state.

"I…" Li Qingran wanted to refuse again.

But at that moment, a voice rang out from the rooftop.

"Sigh, you guys are doing this all wrong!"

The figure on the rooftop pulled off his hood.

Under Li Qingran's stunned gaze, he spoke in a loud, clear voice:

"We are from Qingyun Sect!"

The other four followed suit, removing their disguises.

The female cultivator removed her veil, revealing long, waist-length black hair and a stunning, intoxicatingly beautiful face. Her cheeks were flushed red, her eyes hazy with intoxication, yet her smile was charming, and her words were sharp and to the point.

"Little sister, as you can see, we just looted a bunch of other sects."

The old man added, "And now, you know our identities."

From the rooftop, Su Qinian, the Sword Pavilion Master, grinned maliciously as he declared:

"So, you have no choice but to come with us! Otherwise, we’ll have to silence you! Keh keh keh!"

Li Qingran: "…"

Did they really think she didn’t know they were from Qingyun Sect?

She had already noticed the emblem on the rooftop man’s waist—Sword Pavilion.

Sword Pavilion… Sword Sect?

She hesitated, her mind making some odd connections.

Before she could react, the world spun, and in the next moment, she found herself standing on a flying sword.

The drunken female cultivator had taken her.

The other four also stepped onto their own swords, grinning like a bunch of bandits after a heist.

"Junior Sister, if you’re scared, you can hold onto Senior Sister’s waist~"

The woman turned back with a seductive smile. Then, the flying sword launched skyward.

Li Qingran squinted against the rushing wind, instinctively wrapping her arms around the woman’s waist.

At that moment, she suddenly lost the will to resist.

Because these people…

Were just like her master.

Flying swords,

but no wind-shielding formations.

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