"Ugh..." He clutched his throat, trying to speak, but blood surged upward, blocking his airway. He could only manage a few muffled groans, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at Li Muzhan.

A faint, delicate fragrance drifted into his nostrils. His head rested against something soft and warm—he was already in Leng Wushuang's embrace. Li Muzhan smiled faintly. "Mistress of the Lake, silence him!"

"Mm, rest assured," Leng Wushuang nodded, and as she spoke, she pressed a pill into his mouth.

The moment the pill touched his tongue, it melted into a breath of pure qing (vital energy), instantly drilling down his throat to permeate his entire body. It felt as if the (turbid air) was forcefully expelled, replaced by a warm, comfortable mist of qing.

Li Muzhan understood immediately—this must be an unparalleled spiritual medicine. As soon as it entered him, the sense of weakness vanished, replaced by surging vitality and a great uplift in spirit.

While savoring the miraculous efficacy of the pill, he suddenly felt himself rising. Opening his eyes wide, he realized it wasn't an illusion; his body was truly flying.

His figure ascended higher and higher, soaring toward the sky. He turned his head to look down upon the moonlit landscape; the rooftops were beneath him, and the entire small courtyard lay exposed to his view.

Then, a long cry echoed. Dozens of people burst out of the small courtyard, lunging toward the shadows. Hidden in the dark corners beneath the eaves were scores of men—the South Altar contingent of the Three Smiles Hall, led by Lin Zizhi.

The people of Star Lake Pavilion were all profound in their cultivation; hiding their movements was nearly impossible, and they were surrounded in an instant.

Li Muzhan reached the highest point and began his descent. He glanced toward the six old men, only to see a flash of white, elusive and barely perceptible.

The white shadow flashed past once. The six old men were flung backward, each spitting a jet of blood into the air before crashing onto the ground with a dull thud, utterly motionless.

Li Muzhan secretly marveled. These six elders possessed deep cultivation; though not quite matching Lin Zizhi, the difference was negligible. Yet, they had no chance to fight back. The Martial Arts prowess of the Mistress of the Lake was truly terrifying.

The sweet, ethereal fragrance once again entered his nose as he settled back into Leng Wushuang’s embrace. Her figure shimmered, and she leaned down. "Li Zhu, how is it?"

Li Muzhan shook his head. "It’s nothing serious, Mistress. But there must not be any fish that escape the net!"

"Relax." Leng Wushuang nodded, glancing briefly at the surroundings, then looked back down. "You rest and recover. They won't get away."

Li Muzhan managed a wry smile. "Mistress, I’ve made quite a mess of things this time!"

His killing of Lin Zizhi was an earth-shattering event for both the Three Smiles Hall and Star Lake Pavilion. Lin Zizhi, as the South Altar Master, held a revered position. If the Three Smiles Hall could not exact revenge, how could they maintain dominance over the martial world, and what face would they have to claim supremacy?

They were bound to seek vengeance, no matter the cost, even if the entire Three Smiles Hall mobilized to kill him.

Star Lake Pavilion would naturally not stand idly by. If they could not protect their disciples, there would be no reason for Star Lake Pavilion to exist, nor could they maintain their elevated status in the martial world.

One side sought to protect him, the other to kill him. An enormous battle between the two factions was inevitable. Li Muzhan felt deeply uneasy; if his senior brothers and sisters were made to die because of him, his guilt would be immense.

The only recourse now was to silence any witnesses immediately, delaying the leak of information, and then devise a strategy to navigate this crisis.

Despite feeling the severity of the consequences, Li Muzhan felt no regret for killing Lin Zizhi. If Lin Zizhi had sought his life, and he still held back out of concern for repercussions, wouldn't that make him utterly pathetic?

Leng Wushuang placed her right palm on his back, injecting a warm current of energy. It was so comforting, like soaking in a hot spring, that he felt an overwhelming urge to sleep.

He murmured, "Mistress, please set me down first. I beg the Mistress to act swiftly and decisively, to prevent complications from prolonging this. I am fine."

Leng Wushuang frowned, looked at him, and nodded. "Xiao Rou!"

Xu Xiaorou materialized nearby in an instant, holding her cold, gleaming longsword in her right hand. Her eyes were bright, and her cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue—a sign of vigorous circulation of blood and qi.

"Eh? Mistress, Junior Brother is injured?" Her expression shifted instantly, and her large, bright eyes widened.

Leng Wushuang commanded, "Help him inside!"

Xu Xiaorou hurried forward, slowly reaching out to support Li Muzhan’s body. A pervasive fragrance drifted into his nose, and Li Muzhan smiled. "Senior Sister Xu."

"You scoundrel, what happened to you?" Xu Xiaorou asked hurriedly.

Leng Wushuang dissolved into a wisp of white mist, flickering faintly before vanishing in the next instant.

Li Muzhan managed a wry smile. "Bad luck. I took a blade from that Lin fellow."

"You fought Lin Zizhi?" Xu Xiaorou asked in astonishment, turning her head to see Lin Zizhi not far away, still clutching his throat and staring wide-eyed.

Xu Xiaorou quickly turned back. "Junior Brother, you killed Lin Zizhi?!"

She knew of Li Muzhan’s peerless Flying Dagger skill. Seeing Lin Zizhi's death throes, she recognized the fatal wound to the throat and found it utterly unbelievable.

Li Muzhan nodded slowly. "Yes."

"You really killed him?" Xu Xiaorou asked, struggling to believe it.

Li Muzhan gave a bitter smile. "Was my own strike in vain?"

Xu Xiaorou quickly bent down to examine his wound. "Junior Brother, your wound isn't bad; it missed the vital spot. Otherwise, you wouldn't even be able to speak now!"

She let out a long breath, her surprise lessening. She could picture the moment of life and death—Junior Brother must have used himself as bait, and at the moment Lin Zizhi rejoiced, he struck with his dagger.

Junior Brother's Flying Dagger was fiercely potent. At such close range, to evade it required pre-existing defense; otherwise, it was impossible to guard against.

"Junior Brother, you are truly amazing!" She channeled currents of internal energy from her palm to stabilize the flow of vital energy in his heart meridian, smiling brightly. "Killing Altar Master Lin—this act alone will make you famous throughout the martial world!"

Li Muzhan smiled bitterly. "Senior Sister Xu, I’ve created enormous trouble!"

Xu Xiaorou snorted. "Don't worry about that, Junior Brother. If my martial arts were better, I’d have killed that Lin guy with my sword long ago!"

Li Muzhan shook his head, saying no more.

Xu Xiaorou asked, "Junior Brother, you’re worried that killing Altar Master Lin will provoke a war between the two factions, aren't you?"

Li Muzhan nodded. "Yes. The Three Smiles Hall won't let this rest, and there’s the Lin family too. Can our Pavilion withstand them?"

Xu Xiaorou pursed her lips dismissively. "Three Smiles Hall, Lin family—they’re nothing but clay chickens and pottery dogs!"

Li Muzhan laughed.

Xu Xiaorou continued, "Junior Brother, stop fretting. You killing Altar Master Lin is a great merit. It’s only fair that they seek revenge on us, but we can’t strike them? What kind of logic is that? I suspect the Mistress of the Lake came precisely to deal with this matter!"

Li Muzhan raised an eyebrow. "Oh—?"

Xu Xiaorou giggled. "You still don't understand the Mistress. She is fiercely protective of her own! Anyone who tries to harm us, she will kill them. Even if it were the Heavenly Emperor himself, she would kill him!"

Li Muzhan laughed, let out a long breath, and slowly nodded, feeling a massive weight lift from his heart. The guilt in his mind also faded somewhat.

He had to kill Lin Zizhi. Otherwise, because of the grudge involving Lin Ping, Lin Zizhi would never let him go. But killing Lin Zizhi would drag Star Lake Pavilion into this mess.

His original plan, designed to keep Star Lake Pavilion uninvolved, required him to disguise himself and secretly eliminate Lin Ping. That effort was now wasted.

Such is the frustrating nature of the world—man's calculations are often no match for fate. Even with supreme wisdom, faced with sudden developments, one can only do one's best without achieving perfect results.

With the heavy stone lifted from his mind, waves of drowsiness washed over him. He wanted to drift off to sleep and quickly said, "Senior Sister, please carry me inside. I need to meditate for a while. I’m fine."

"Has the Mistress already given you the pill?" Xu Xiaorou asked.

Li Muzhan nodded lightly. "Yes, I've taken it."

"That's good, let’s go inside then!"

Holding Li Muzhan’s body as if it weighed nothing, she turned and entered the courtyard. Reaching the rear, she kicked open his room door and gently placed him onto the couch.

"Junior Brother, I’ll pull out your sword first," Xu Xiaorou said.

Li Muzhan nodded. "Go ahead!"

Xu Xiaorou bent down, pressing her palm against his chest, her eyelids slightly lowered. Their faces were separated by barely a hand's breadth. Though there were no lamps, only the hazy moonlight casting dim shadows, Li Muzhan could clearly see her face.

Her skin was pure white and delicate, like a freshly peeled egg. Her breath was fragrant as orchid. The unique, fresh scent of youth washed over him, and despite his injury, a flicker of tender desire arose.

He quickly suppressed it, closed his eyes, and focused on assessing his injuries throughout his body.

"All done. Careful, I'm pulling the sword out now!" Xu Xiaorou opened her eyes and said softly.

Li Muzhan nodded lightly, but before he could speak, he let out a muffled groan as the sword was pulled free, and a spurt of blood shot toward Xu Xiaorou.

Xu Xiaorou flicked her left sleeve. With an unseen force, the window crashed open. Simultaneously, she flicked her right sleeve, and the spray of blood instantly condensed into a ball, which was swept out the window.

With another slight pull of her left hand, the window slammed shut.

The window opened and closed in the blink of an eye; one might mistake the entire event for an illusion or a hallucination. Li Muzhan smiled faintly, showing his approval.

Xu Xiaorou extended her left hand from her sleeve and pressed it against the wound. Unbeknownst to him, her hand now held a paste-like substance that emitted a pungent aroma.

Li Muzhan frowned and looked down. Xu Xiaorou explained, "Junior Brother, this is our finest styptic salve. You’ll see its effect in a moment!"

Li Muzhan’s face turned pale. As the sword was withdrawn, a violent tide of pain washed over him, nearly causing him to faint. Coupled with the massive loss of vital blood, the feeling of weakness returned with a vengeance.

The intermingling of pain and weakness created an overwhelming force; if Li Muzhan hadn't possessed exceptional self-control, he would have passed out immediately.

Li Muzhan took a deep breath, and some color returned to his face.

Xu Xiaorou removed her hand. Li Muzhan looked down and saw that the bleeding from the wound had stopped, replaced by a thin, membranous film.

"Truly marvelous medicine!" Li Muzhan praised.

For martial artists, a medicine that could stop bleeding like this was equivalent to a life-saving elixir. Casualties in martial arts combat often resulted from excessive blood loss; once a wound was too large, stopping the hemorrhage was incredibly difficult.

Indeed, they were a renowned great sect; such spiritual medicine was priceless for martial practitioners.