The open market, a place that had moments ago hummed with the slow return of normalcy—the rhythmic thud of a blacksmith's hammer, the distant calls of vendors hawking their wares, the relieved murmur of dispersing crowds—suddenly froze. Every head that had started to turn away, every foot that had taken a tentative step towards resuming daily life, halted mid-motion. Deming's voice, raw and cutting, had ripped through the fragile peace, bellowing the name of Hu Dingxiang, a young hunter of prestigious lineage, beloved by so many elders. His shout was an almost sacred violation of the unspoken truce, echoing over the stunned marketplace and forcing every single person—from the wary onlookers to the retreating clan leaders—to stop dead in their tracks, their gaze snapping back to the scene of unexpected, renewed drama.
The Hu family, their faces initially etched with confusion, turned sharply to confront Deming, their expressions hardening. "How dare you call our Second Young Master's name, you insolent boy?!" one of their students snarled, stepping forward, his hand on his sword.
"I have promised Zhiqiang that I will not seek revenge for everything you have done to me in the past," Deming declared, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and resolve, his eyes blazing with conviction. "But I still feel that I need to take revenge for Huang Wei and Dong Enlai. Their deaths demand justice."
As soon as Leader Huang heard his son's name, his body stiffened, a cold dread seizing him. He spun around, his voice tight with disbelief, demanding clarification. "What did you say, young man? What about Huang Wei?"
"Student Dong," Huang Hualing interjected, her eyes narrowing, a cold suspicion in her voice, "what do you mean by avenging Huang Wei? What do you know?"
"Hu Dingxiang killed Huang Wei," Deming stated, his voice unwavering despite the weight of his accusation, his gaze fixed on Hu Dingxiang.
"It was Servant Li who killed my younger brother!" Huang Hualing retorted, her face flushing with anger, her fists clenching. "Everyone knows that!"
"Do you think Servant Li alone could defeat Brother Huang?" Deming countered, a challenge in his tone, a hint of disdain. "Brother Huang was a formidable fighter."
Leader Huang stepped forward, his eyes burning with a dangerous intensity, his voice a low growl. "Young man, you better know what you are talking about! Do not slander my son's name without proof!" he warned, the unspoken threat hanging heavy in the air.
Deming took a deep breath, steeling himself, knowing this was his moment. "I saw Hu Dingxiang and Servant Li talking that day," he began, his voice gaining strength, recounting the horrifying memory. "I couldn't hear what they were saying; I was afraid they would see me, so I ran away. Then I happened to bump into Brother Huang and Student Dong. Brother Huang had sprained his ankle badly. I saw Student Dong carrying Brother Huang on his back, and I felt such pity for the student Dong, so I offered to carry Brother Huang myself. We were walking back to camp and stopped to rest by the riverbank. Two men wearing black clothes suddenly appeared. Hu Dingxiang kicked Student Dong into the river, and Brother Huang was attacking Servant Li, defending himself. When Hu Dingxiang came for me, Brother Huang, worried about my safety, took out his guzheng string and threw it at Servant Li, trying to protect me. Servant Li fell by the riverbank, hitting himself hard on the rocks. Unfortunately, because Brother Huang's ankle was injured, Hu Dingxiang seized the opportunity to attack Brother Huang, stabbing Brother Huang's abdomen with Brother Huang's own spear." Tears began to well in Deming's eyes, glistening as they traced paths down his cheeks, the memory fresh and agonizing. "Just as I was lying on the ground, dying, bleeding out, Hu Dingxiang said to Brother Huang, 'Thank you for giving me this opportunity to get rid of my number one enemy, and I will let you die on your own.' He watched him die."
Leader Huang's fists clenched tightly at his sides, his knuckles white, his body trembling with barely suppressed fury. "How do you know that this person is Hu Dingxiang?" he demanded, his voice strained, a desperate need for denial. "You were in a coma!"
Deming let out a heavy sigh, the weight of years of torment in it, a profound weariness. "I've been his sandbag all my life. Even when I hear his footsteps, I know it's him. His scent, his presence, I know him better than anyone."
"This story is quite good," Leader Hu interjected, a dismissive sneer on his face, trying to discredit Deming. "But I remember that the student was seriously injured and was in a coma for more than a month. When he woke up, he was talking nonsense. He even claimed he was someone else. His mind was clearly broken."
"I have heard the same story," Leader Yi quickly added, nodding in agreement, seizing the opportunity to support Leader Hu. "So, the story he just told us must be made up, the ramblings of a madman."
"Student Dong," Huang Hualing pressed, a cold suspicion in her voice, her eyes narrowed, "do you have any evidence to prove your story? Any tangible proof?"
"I do," Deming declared, his gaze locking onto Hu Dingxiang, his voice ringing with conviction. "I marked him. A mark that cannot be erased."
"How?" Guo Baiyu's voice, calm but authoritative, cut through the rising tension, demanding an explanation.
"When he stabbed the sword into my abdomen, I marked him," Deming explained, his eyes never leaving Hu Dingxiang, a chilling certainty in his tone. "Don't you remember, Hu Dingxiang? When you plunged your sword deeply into my stomach, inch by inch, you even said, 'I told you before that if you ran away, I would kill you.' Senior Guozhao, please ask him to lift up his right sleeve. There will be four dots on the outer arm and one dot on the inner arm. My mark."
Guo Baiyu turned his piercing gaze to Hu Dingxiang, his expression unreadable. "Childe Hu, in order to prove your innocence on this grave accusation, please raise your right sleeve. Let us see this mark."
With an air of forced nonchalance, a subtle tremor in his hand, Hu Dingxiang raised his right sleeve, revealing not four dots, but a prominent burn scar stretching from his wrist to his elbow, a jagged, angry mark. "My arm was burned thirteen years ago when I fought the Fire Demon," he stated, his voice smooth and controlled, a practiced lie. "If you don't believe me, you can check with my fiancé. She can vouch for me." Hu Dingxiang's mind raced, a flicker of panic hidden beneath his calm exterior. How does this person know so much about me? He couldn't let Dong Enlai slander his reputation any further. This, he realized, was a perfect chance to eliminate another enemy, to silence him permanently. He looked at Deming, feigning innocence, his expression one of wounded confusion. "Childe Dong, I haven't wronged you in any way. Why are you slandering my name with such vicious lies?"
"Dong Enlai, you said you marked him, but I don't see a mark on his arm!" Hu Jianguo declared triumphantly, pointing at the scar. "Everything you told us is a lie! You're a madman!"
"I'm not lying!" Deming protested, his voice laced with desperation, his heart sinking. "I'm telling everyone the truth! That's the mark!"
Hu Jianguo turned to Leader Hu, his voice dripping with insinuation, twisting the narrative. "Just because Servant Li was Dingxiang's servant, he happened to kill Brother Huang. And now, one of your students accuses Dingxiang of committing this crime. Is this also the Huang family's plan to cut ties with us? To ruin our alliance?"
"Student Dong is not a disciple of Huang Sect," Huang Hualing quickly clarified, distancing herself, her face grim. "He has never passed the entrance examination. He is a student, not a disciple. Therefore, we have nothing to do with him. He does not represent us."
"Very good," Leader Hu said, his gaze hardening on Deming, a cold fury in his eyes. He turned to Hu Dingxiang, a subtle command in his voice, an implicit permission. "Xiang'er, what are you waiting for? Deal with this insolence."
Hu Dingxiang, seizing the implicit permission, drew his sword with a chilling whisper of steel and charged directly towards Deming, his eyes filled with murderous intent.
Guozhao Zhiqiang stepped forward, his hand instinctively going to his sword, but Guo Baiyu swiftly caught his arm, holding him back with surprising strength. Zhao Renshu, standing beside them, shook his head at Guozhao Zhiqiang, a silent warning, his eyes fixed on the unfolding drama.
"This matter is between Student Dong and Childe Hu," Guo Baiyu stated, his voice firm, his grip unyielding, "and it has nothing to do with you, Zhiqiang. Do not interfere."
"Let go of me, First Master!" Guozhao Zhiqiang snarled, his voice sharp and uncharacteristic, filled with raw desperation.
The Guozhao hunters gasped, utterly surprised. This was the first time their Senior Brother had ever talked back to their First Master. Their Senior Brother had always been impeccably obedient, a model disciple.
Guo Baiyu glanced at Zhao Renshu, who then casually touched Guozhao Zhiqiang's left shoulder. Immediately, Guozhao Zhiqiang felt his entire body lock, utterly unable to move, frozen in place, his eyes wide with horror as he watched Hu Dingxiang's sword closing in on Deming.
"Second Master, please lift off the spell!" Guozhao Zhiqiang begged, his voice raw with desperation, tears pricking his eyes. "Please! He'll kill Deming!"
As Hu Dingxiang's sword slashed closer and closer to Deming, a shimmering guzheng string materialized in Deming's hand, glowing with a faint light. He unleashed a powerful sonic attack, a wave of invisible force that slammed into Hu Dingxiang.
Hu Dingxiang flipped five times backward through the air, barely avoiding the brunt of the attack, his body contorting. He landed hard on his right knee, embedding his sword into the ground to steady himself, then looked up at Deming, his eyes wide with shock and fury, a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth.
"You..." Hu Dingxiang gasped, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the dusty ground, utterly disbelieving.
Deming walked slowly towards the injured Hu Dingxiang, a strange calm settling over him, his voice quiet but resolute. "Thank you for your encouragement, Hu Dingxiang," he said, his voice ringing with a newfound confidence, "which made me overcome my fear to face you today. Your cruelty made me stronger."
Zhao Renshu removed his hand from Guozhao Zhiqiang's shoulder, a look of satisfied pride on his face. "You worry too much, Zhiqiang. Look at this young man; his aura is very strong. He can handle himself." He then addressed his disciples. "Never underestimate the strength of the enemy. This is a very good example. The Hu disciple lost because he underestimated the enemy and was too reckless. Learn from this."
Suddenly, Leader Hu, enraged by his son's defeat, launched a furious attack on Deming, his palm striking out with deadly intent.
Deming stumbled back a few steps, but before the blow could land, Guozhao Zhiqiang moved with blinding speed, a black blur, flying across the space between them. He grabbed Deming's waist, spun him around, and shielded Deming's body with his own from Leader Hu's devastating palm strike. The blow slammed into Guozhao Zhiqiang's shoulder blade with a sickening thud, sending both him and Deming flying fifty feet away. Just as they were about to hit the ground, Guozhao Zhiqiang flipped Deming on top of him, absorbing the final impact as they slid another ten feet before coming to a complete stop. Guozhao Zhiqiang coughed heavily, a painful, ragged sound.
Deming quickly pulled Guozhao Zhiqiang to a sitting position, and a stream of blood spurted from Guozhao Zhiqiang's mouth, staining his robes.
"Zhiqiang!" Deming cried, his voice laced with pure terror and worry, gasping for breath as he stared at the blood, his heart seizing. He looked up, his eyes blazing with fury at Leader Hu. "I will kill you, you bastard!"
"You promised me not to take revenge, Deming," Guozhao Zhiqiang coughed, his voice weak, a desperate plea. "Have you forgotten?"
"I'm sorry!" Deming sobbed, the image of Zhiqiang's bleeding mouth burning into his mind, overriding all other thoughts. "I'm so sorry, Zhiqiang!"
"Senior Brother!" the junior hunters cried out, their faces pale with shock and horror, rushing forward.
Yang Bao and Guozhao Zhaohui rushed to Guozhao Zhiqiang and Deming's side, helping to support the injured Guozhao Zhiqiang back towards the group, their faces grim. Guo Baiyu immediately began to check Guozhao Zhiqiang's pulses, his expression grave, his brow furrowed with concern.
From behind, Fang Yaoting, Lee Dachin, the Fang twins, and Weici arrived, having heard the commotion. Seeing the blood smeared on Deming's back, Weici rushed over, her face etched with concern, to check on him, her hands trembling.
"I'm fine, Weici," Deming choked out, shaking his head, his voice still trembling. "It's not my blood."
"Whose blood is this, Deming?" Weici asked, her voice tight with fear, her eyes wide.
"Zhiqiang's," Deming said sadly, his gaze falling on his injured lover, his heart aching. Then he looked at Weici, a desperate idea forming, a last hope. "Weici, remember the ink you left under my fingernails? The mark of truth?"
"What about it, Deming?" Weici asked, bewildered, her brow furrowed.
"You once told me that the mark will always be there, that it cannot be removed," Deming pleaded, his voice urgent.
"Yes," Weici confirmed, though still confused. "It's a permanent mark."
"What if the skin gets burned?" Deming pressed, his eyes fixed on her.
"It would move as soon as I called it, Deming," Weici answered, a frown creasing her brow, understanding dawning.
"Then please, call it, Weici!" Deming urged, a flicker of desperate hope in his eyes. "Call the mark!"
"Why, Deming?" Weici asked, her voice hushed.
"The man who killed Huang Wei, Dong Enlai, and I had this mark on him," Deming revealed, his voice low and urgent, a chilling accusation as he pointed at Huang Dingxiang.
A surge of cold hatred washed over Weici, her eyes hardening. "Okay," she said, her voice grim, her resolve set. She took out a needle, pricked her left index finger, and began to chant softly, rubbing the bleeding finger in a circular motion on her right palm, the ritual beginning.
"What is going on?" Hu Jianguo demanded, his eyes fixed on Weici's strange ritual, a growing unease.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. "What is she doing? Is she casting a spell? A curse?"
Hu Dingxiang, observing Weici and Deming seemingly unharmed by his previous attack, watched Weici intently, a smirk forming on his lips, confident in his deception. Then, a soft, self-satisfied giggle escaped him. He walked casually towards Weici, taking her hand, his touch dismissive. He smiled, his voice a low, mocking whisper. "Little fairy, your little parasite can't hurt me. Your magic is weak. I'll show you the true face of a real parasite." He took a step back, widening his smile, a triumphant sneer. "Lady Weici, please stop chanting your spell. As you can see, I'm not affected in any way. Your tricks are useless."
Deming, seeing Hu Dingxiang completely unaffected by the incantation, felt a chilling suspicion, a profound dread. "Why did nothing happen, Weici?" he demanded of her, his voice tight with fear.
Weici's eyes were wide with shock and confusion, her face pale. "I don't know why nothing happened, Deming," she whispered, clearly distraught, her ritual failing.
"Nothing happened," Leader Hu declared, seizing the moment, his voice triumphant, "because my son is not the killer you said, and what you said today is a lie! You're a fraud!"
Suddenly, the ground not far away shuddered violently. A monstrous, hundred-foot-long black worm erupted from the earth, its enormous, segmented body lifting upwards, arching high into the air, its skin slimy and dark. It screeched, a horrifying, guttural sound that tore through the sudden silence, a primal roar directed at the terrified people below, its massive form casting a terrifying shadow.
Guo Baiyu and Zhao Renshu exchanged a look of profound disbelief, their faces pale. "Earth worm," Guo Baiyu murmured, his voice strained, recognizing the impossible creature.
"Impossible," Zhao Renshu finished, equally stunned, his usual bravado gone.
Hu Dingxiang looked at Weici, a triumphant sneer on his face, though a flicker of unease crossed his eyes. "Did you call this monster here, little fairy? Is this your grand spell?" he challenged, trying to shift the blame.
Everyone standing outside the medicine shop turned their terrified gazes to Weici, their faces contorted with fear and accusation.
Weici, pale and trembling, shook her head vehemently, tears streaming down her face. "I didn't! I didn't summon it!" Her eyes, filled with dawning horror, fixed on Hu Dingxiang, a terrible realization dawning. "You... you did this!"