Chapter 46: The Flower-Picking Rogue

At the stroke of midnight, the ink-black darkness quietly shrouded the Following Wind Inn.

Candles flickered inside the spacious lobby of the inn, casting mottled light and shadow. The innkeeper behind the counter had not yet rested, still busy clicking the beads of his abacus.

In a guest room on the second floor, a female cultivator with a cold and stunning expression sat cross-legged with her eyes closed. She was dressed in a suit of black attire, with a vibrant crimson ribbon tied around her wrist that looked particularly striking, and an aura of icy detachment emanated from her entire body.

Two entirely distinct sword auras circulated around her. One sword aura was domineering and fierce, while the other was as gentle as water. Under her deliberate control, the two sword auras were slowly fusing together, bursting forth with bursts of harsh sounds and possessing a unique momentum.

She was none other than Xia Qinghe.

Having spent this period of time contemplating the manual titled "Detached Water Sword Formula" previously gifted to her by Zhou You, she had gained a multitude of insights. Right now, she was attempting to fuse it with her previous sword auras; if she could pull it off, the benefits to her Great Dao in the future would be unimaginable.

Just as she was entirely focused on her cultivation, a bamboo tube as thick as a little finger pierced through the window gauze and reached into the room.

However, completely engrossed in fusing the two sword auras, she did not notice it in the slightest.

Not long after, a wisp of white smoke emitting a faint fragrance spread out from the bamboo tube, filling the entire room.

Behind the window gauze, which had been broken open with a large hole, a pair of greedy eyes stared fixedly at the peerless woman on the bed, making no attempt to conceal their desire.

Xia Qinghe's nostrils twitched slightly, and the aura around her body began to scatter. Before long, her entire body fell backward onto the bed, looking as though she had passed out cold.

The owner of the eyes outside the window still made no move. Instead, he cautiously waited for a full quarter of an hour. Only after confirming that the female cultivator on the bed had truly fallen completely unconscious did he slowly push open the window and leap into the room.

This person's footsteps were as light as a cat's, making not the slightest sound as he drew closer and closer to the woman on the bed step by step.

Soon, a fair palm reached out toward Xia Qinghe.

Yet just as it was about to touch the woman on the bed, the female cultivator who had supposedly fallen unconscious suddenly opened her eyes. A chilling glare flashed within them as she stared fixedly at the sneaky scoundrel before her clad in black night attire.

Instantly, a fierce sword aura erupted abruptly, tearing through the dark room and shooting straight toward the uninvited guest.

The owner of that hand immediately felt his soul leave his body, every hair on his body standing on end as he cursed inwardly.

"Damn it, it's a trap."

Though he was cursing the other party to death in his heart, the movements of his hands were not slow in the least. Extremely agile, he executed several continuous backflips in mid-air, barely dodging the sword strike.

The very next moment, the woman on the bed wielded a long sword, a powerful aura radiating from her entire body as she charged aggressively to kill him.

***

As a Silver Badge officer of the Slaying Demons Bureau, Xia Qinghe's perception was incomparably acute. She had already discovered the presence of this uninvited guest in night attire the moment he was lurking outside her window.

Her pretending to be knocked out by the white smoke was merely a tactic of feigning ignorance to lure the enemy in.

The female cultivator let out a cold snort. With a flash of her figure, she pierced toward the flower-picker like a phantom.

The flower-picker turned pale with shock, never expecting this woman to be not only so vigilant but also possessing such formidable cultivation. He hurriedly dodged sideways, drawing a short blade to block in a hasty defense.

The sounds of their battle instantly shattered the tranquility of the inn, and nearby guests stepped out one after another upon hearing the commotion to see what was happening.

Gu Xian was the first to arrive. Seeing Xia Qinghe engaged in a fierce battle with a sneaky fellow in night attire, he immediately joined the fray, teaming up with Xia Qinghe to fight the enemy.

Soon, two more people entered the room. One was Yang Mao, and the other turned out to be the young nobleman whom they had briefly crossed paths with at the staircase during the day.

Realizing that flower-picking had failed tonight and instead more and more righteous path cultivators were gathering around, while several wounds had already appeared on his body, the man in black had truly bitter grievances that he could not voice.

A flash of heartache crossed his eyes, and with decisive action, he tossed a round ball covered in numerous seal scripts on its surface toward Gu Xian and the others.

In an instant, accompanied by a blinding flash of light, a thick white smoke permeated every inch of the room.

Gu Xian and the others were secretly startled; this fog not only obstructed everyone's line of sight but also shielded a cultivator's perception.

When the mist finally dissipated, the figure of the flower-picking thief had completely vanished without a trace.

Gu Xian looked at Xia Qinghe. "Are you alright?"

The woman in black robes shook her head slightly. "I was on guard early on. He didn't gain any advantage; on the contrary, my sword strike earlier wounded that sneaky fellow quite heavily."

Yang Mao took out a south-pointing lodestone, opening his palm as a wisp of aura hovered above it.

"I managed to capture a wisp of that fellow's aura just now. We might just be able to track him down."

The three of them exchanged glances, immediately vaulting out of the window and chasing in the direction indicated by the lodestone. The young nobleman clad in golden robes followed closely behind as well.

Outside the inn, the night was deep, the bright moon obscured by dark clouds, casting a gloomy dimness all around.

The group sprinted through streets and alleys, spiritual energy gushing from their bodies as they moved at an astonishing speed. While pursuing the flower-picking thief, they speculated on the culprit's true identity.

The young nobleman suddenly chimed in, "Could that person very likely be a flower-picker?"

***

The expressions of the crowd shifted slightly, all of them clearly aware of what kind of cultivators belonged to this category.

Flower-pickers and Joy Pavilion maidens—these were two notorious factions among the mountain cultivators, renowned throughout the world for their arts of harvesting the yin to supplement the yang, striking terror into the hearts of countless cultivators.

The young nobleman continued, "I hail from the Moon-Hiding City. Last year, the trace of a flower-picker was discovered within our city. The aura of that person just now was very similar to the flower-pickers I've seen before."

As if realizing something, Yang Mao spoke in utter astonishment, "You are the young master of Moon-Hiding City, Mo Qi."

The nobleman in golden robes nodded slightly.

A hint of surprise appeared on the faces of Gu Xian and the other two. Similar to the Ink-Dye City, Moon-Hiding City was an immortal sect located in the Great Xuan Dynasty territory. However, unlike Ink-Dye Lane which controlled Ink-Dye City, the position of Moon-Hiding City's lord had been firmly held by the Mo family for five hundred years now.

Before long, following the direction indicated by the lodestone, the group arrived at a secluded courtyard.

The surroundings were dead silent, with only the occasional barking of dogs from the streets, making the desolate night feel even more bleak.

The four of them leaped onto the courtyard walls from different directions.

Inside the room within the courtyard, candles flickered on the table. A handsome man with a face as white as jade wore a pale expression, his body trembling slightly. His bare upper body bore several wounds, especially a sword slash on his arm, where residual sword aura was still lingering and entrenched.

A fine layer of cold sweat beaded the handsome man's forehead as he applied immortal secret medicine to his wounds. Every time his fingers brushed against a wound, he could not help but let out a muffled grunt of pain—it was simply too agonizing.

Suddenly, his ears twitched as he caught an unusual sound from outside.

Without hesitation, the handsome man quickly put on his clothes, stepped lightly to the window, and cracked open a tiny gap. The courtyard was completely empty.

He let out a sigh of relief and cursed inwardly, "Damn it, that scared the hell out of me. I thought those grim reapers had tracked me down."

To him, the few individuals who had fought him at the Following Wind Inn possessed formidable strength; were they not the very definition of grim reapers knocking on his door?

The handsome man pushed the door open and stepped out into the courtyard, still finding no abnormalities.

He immediately relaxed, whispering softly to himself, "I suppose I was just being overly suspicious."

Yet at that exact moment, four formidable auras suddenly manifested in the courtyard, locking onto him with unyielding certainty.