C7 Murder and Looting

After taking care of everything, Ye Qinghui made sure not to let the Three-clawed White Wolf's meat go to waste. He sliced off a piece, clenched it in his mouth, and resumed his search for other demonic beasts.

The meat of the Three-clawed White Wolf was a delicacy, edible even when raw.

Having roamed the forest for quite some time, Ye Qinghui eventually came to a halt.

He stood still for a quarter of an hour before slowly turning to face a large tree behind him and called out, "Fellow Daoist, what brings you here? You've been tailing me for half an hour now!"

No sooner had he spoken than a figure emerged from behind the tree, eyeing Ye Qinghui with a puzzled expression and asking, "Did you notice me earlier?"

"Not at all, I just sensed something amiss and decided to bluff," Ye Qinghui replied with a scoff, clutching the wolf's spinal bone firmly in his hand as he regarded the stranger.

"Haha, it looks like I've been outsmarted. Young man, that Three-clawed White Wolf inflicted serious injuries on me; don't hoard it all for yourself!"

The man chuckled in response, approaching Ye Qinghui and coming to a stop about ten yards away, speaking slowly.

"You're the one who killed it? Where's your proof?"

Ye Qinghui, utterly unconvinced by the man's claim, asked icily.

"My word is the proof. Young man, don't create unnecessary trouble for yourself!"

With that, the man's demeanor shifted from amiable to icy, and the power of the Second Order Body Tempering Realm burst forth from him.

"Looking to take it by force? Well, let's see if you've got what it takes!"

Ye Qinghui, undeterred by the man's aggressive stance, spoke softly, positioning the wolf's spine across his chest, ready to strike.

Before Ye Qinghui could act, the sound of air being sliced filled the air as two streaks of golden light shot towards him.

Ye Qinghui swiftly sidestepped, but in that brief moment, the man had closed the distance, launching a punch directly at Ye Qinghui's face.

Ye Qinghui swiftly brought his arms up to shield his head. With a resounding thud, he was hurled two meters away.

The force of the punch made Ye Qinghui's hand feel as though it was about to shatter. Yet, the fight was only getting started.

The man, emboldened by his effective strike, advanced once more with rapid punches and kicks, each imbued with potent Spiritual Qi. Each blow Ye Qinghui endured felt like a massive stone crashing against him.

Bang!

"Pfft!"

At last, Ye Qinghui could withstand no more. A momentary lapse, and the man's fist brutally connected with his chest, causing blood to spray from Ye Qinghui's mouth.

"Kid, don't hold it against me!"

The man lunged at Ye Qinghui again, his hands swinging wildly, landing fierce blows upon him.

After several exchanges, Ye Qinghui lay motionless on the ground.

Ultimately, Ye Qinghui was merely a sect disciple, no match for these seasoned independent cultivators, especially one a rank above him.

"Ah, such a promising young talent, gone to waste," the man lamented as he crouched down to seize the spinal bone from Ye Qinghui's grasp.

But just as he touched the bone, Ye Qinghui's eyes snapped open.

"Eight Extremes Palm!"

With a cold shout, Ye Qinghui's palm struck the man's left chest. Terror flashed in the man's eyes as he attempted to back away, but it was too late.

Ye Qinghui's palm hit with devastating force, igniting the Three Thousand Inferno that blazed into the man's body through his palm.

Crack, crack, crack...

The sound of breaking bones filled the air as the man was sent flying backward.

Ye Qinghui quickly got to his feet and pursued him, plunging the spinal bone into the man's chest with ferocity.

Puff!

As Ye Qinghui withdrew the bone, a gush of blood followed.

With his successful strike, Ye Qinghui focused on nothing else, repeatedly stabbing the spinal bone into the man's chest with frenzied determination.

The man quickly reacted, seizing Ye Qinghui's shoulder with his right hand while his left palm delivered a strike to Ye Qinghui's chest.

They traded blows in rapid succession.

Soon, the man lay silent, lifeless, while Ye Qinghui continued to furiously drive the spine bone into the man's chest.

A quarter of an hour later, Ye Qinghui ceased his actions. The man before him had been reduced to a mound of flesh.

Ye Qinghui's left chest was severely caved in, blood pouring from his mouth, occasionally accompanied by fragments of his internal organs.

"I really am lacking in combat experience," he lamented.

After discarding the spine bone, Ye Qinghui could no longer stand. Collapsing to the ground, he gasped for air as blood spurted from his chest wound with each breath.

In a panic, Ye Qinghui opened his storage ring and frantically stuffed any medicinal herb he could find into his mouth.

The Three Thousand Hellfire within him ignited fiercely, purifying the medicinal essence and directing it to his wounds. Soon after, the world began to spin, and he passed out.

When Ye Qinghui eventually regained consciousness, he struggled to sit up and surveyed the remains on the ground. Instinctively, he checked his chest by tearing open his clothes.

His chest wound had healed, but he was left incredibly weak. The Spiritual Qi in his dantian had been depleted in the healing process, causing the Three Thousand Hellfire to burn sluggishly.

"Good thing I brought some medicinal herbs with me," he thought with relief.

Ye Qinghui removed the ring from the corpse and continued on his way, murmuring to himself.

With this thought, he staggered on, dizzy and disoriented, until morning arrived. Exhausted, Ye Qinghui collapsed to the ground and began to meditate, absorbing the Spiritual Qi from his surroundings.

He had to leave the area, fearing that the scent of blood might attract demonic beasts. In his current state, another encounter would likely mean death.

As Ye Qinghui began his meditation, the spiritual energy between heaven and earth seemed to be wildly stirred by an unseen force. All around him, the spiritual energy surged toward his body, creating an invisible vortex with Ye Qinghui at its core.

Minutes ticked by, and Ye Qinghui remained seated in meditation for a full fifteen minutes.

"Phew... This technique is still so powerful!"

When he finished his session, Ye Qinghui stretched and clenched his fist, feeling the previous weakness completely vanish.

"Old thief, I dare you to try running away again!"

At that moment, a petulant voice echoed from a distance. Ye Qinghui quickly leaped onto a tree branch, cautiously peering westward.

As expected, it wasn't long before two figures came into view.

A young girl, brandishing a sharp sword, was in hot pursuit of an elderly man bearing grave injuries.

"Hmm? It's not often you see something like this! Maybe I'll watch a bit longer."

Ye Qinghui had initially planned to intervene, but after a moment's consideration, he chose to hold back and observe.