Chapter 85: Guilt by Virtue

Lin Yi’s words instantly ignited the crowd’s enthusiasm; naturally, there was no shortage of greedy individuals among them. As the saying goes, “an innocent man gets into trouble for holding treasure.” Even a master like Die Nishang was tempted to rob Lin Yi. This fellow was simply too wealthy.

“Brother, I have a millennium-old lingzhi here. Do you think it’s enough to exchange for one of your Foundation Nurturing Pills?” People kept coming forward with offers, but very few caught Lin Yi’s interest.

“Step aside, move aside, all of you!” At that moment, an arrogant voice rang out, quickly clearing a path through the throng.

The newcomers were the Mo family.

“Who’s this, so full of themselves?” someone muttered, unfamiliar with the Mo family.

“Shh, be careful what you say, that’s the Mo family.”

“The Mo family?”

“The Mo family is a hidden force from the Mountain Province, a family renowned for their artifact forging. The entire clan is mysterious, rarely seen except at these gatherings. They’re not among the top ten families, but they’re said to be far more powerful—rumor has it there are at least three masters in the Mo family.”

“My god.” Some people were startled by the Mo family’s reputation.

It was known that, on the surface, only the Feng family in Mountain Province had a master, but the Mo family, conservatively, had three.

If the Mo family truly wanted to claim the position of the leading family in Mountain Province, the Feng family wouldn’t stand a chance.

The burly man leading the Mo family declared, “Three artifacts. I’ll take all your Foundation Nurturing Pills.”

Before Lin Yi could reply, Die Nishang sneered, “Mo Cangqin, you really have the nerve. You want all the Foundation Nurturing Pills for just three artifacts?”

Even she had to pay two vermillion fruits for just one pill, yet Mo Cangqin clearly thought Lin Yi was easy to take advantage of.

“Heh, Die Nishang, this is a transaction between us. It’s none of your concern.” Mo Cangqin chuckled, then looked at Lin Yi with a smile. “You can pick any three artifacts, even if they’re all storage artifacts.”

“No need,” Lin Yi replied, shaking his head.

He had no use for storage artifacts; with his mastery of Qi Manipulation, that was more than enough.

“Young man, are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?” As Mo Cangqin spoke, a subtle pressure pressed toward Lin Yi—an attempt at coercion.

Lin Yi looked at him impassively and replied with calm dignity, “No need.”

Die Nishang also noticed Mo Cangqin’s maneuver and inwardly scorned him. With a wave of her hand, she effortlessly dispelled his pressure.

Mo Cangqin shot a deep look at Die Nishang, then said in a low voice, “Then how about I add two more artifacts?”

Lin Yi, losing patience, said, “Are you deaf?”

His words sent a ripple of shock through the crowd, causing people to step back. No one expected this young man to have such a temper, daring to talk back to a master to his face.

Did he have a death wish?

Mo Cangqin’s expression darkened. Since becoming a master, it had been years since anyone spoke to him this way.

“Boy, do you know who you’re talking to?” His voice was icy as he bore down on Lin Yi with undisguised force.

Lin Yi was about to make a move when a charming laugh broke the tension.

“Mo Cangqin, this young man is a guest of our Butterfly Valley. Could you perhaps give us a little face?” Die Nishang smiled.

Mo Cangqin felt a surge of irritation; Die Nishang had interrupted him just a moment ago, and now she was meddling again. But Butterfly Valley was no weaker than the Mo family, so he couldn’t afford to make a move against her.

“Hmph. Boy, consider yourself lucky.” Mo Cangqin shot Lin Yi a sharp glare before leading his people away.

Yet everyone knew that Lin Yi had drawn serious trouble upon himself and that the Mo family had now set their sights on him.

“Young man, you’ve really offended the Mo family this time,” Die Nishang remarked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lin Yi replied tranquilly.

Die Nishang shook her head. In her eyes, Lin Yi was simply showing the recklessness of youth, unaware of the danger he’d just brushed past.

“If you knew the Mo family’s true power, you’d think differently. That man just now was Mo Cangqin, also a master,” she “kindly” reminded him. “If you tell me the origin of the Foundation Nurturing Pills, I might be able to resolve this crisis for you.”

“No need. It’s just a master,” Lin Yi replied indifferently.

Die Nishang was speechless—just a master? This young man was not only young but also incredibly bold.

Never mind, she thought. I won’t bother with him anymore.

By six in the evening, Lin Yi had only managed to trade three Foundation Nurturing Pills, receiving three century-old spiritual herbs in exchange.

Most of the martial artists brought only common herbs and ores, none of which interested Lin Yi.

Walking back, Zhang Xinyi blinked and said, “Mr. Lin, you really keep a low profile. To think you’re also an alchemist.”

“I mentioned it at the banquet last time—you just didn’t notice,” Lin Yi said with a chuckle.

Zhang Xinyi thought for a moment and realized he was right—Lin Yi had given her father a Foundation Nurturing Pill at that time. But who would have guessed that Lin Yi had refined it himself?

It was hard to believe someone could be both a master and an alchemist at such a young age.

“Mr. Lin, it’s so quiet around here,” Zhang Xinyi remarked.

She wasn’t stupid and could sense something was off; her body tensed, ready for combat.

“Mm, some little rats have come,” Lin Yi replied calmly, having anticipated this.

They walked a bit further when suddenly more than twenty martial artists sprang out from the roadside.

These fighters were all quite skilled—most were at the fifth innate level, and a few were half-step masters.

“Boy, if you know what’s good for you, hand over your storage artifact,” the leading old man said with a sinister glare. He himself was a half-step master, and not just an ordinary fighter—he also practiced the mystical arts.

“And if I refuse?” Lin Yi eyed the group with a cold sneer.

“Then you’ll just have to pay a visit to the King of Hell,” the old man grinned. For men like them, robbery and murder were everyday affairs.

Not far away, on a rooftop, a group was watching—people from Butterfly Valley.

“Senior Sister, should we go help?” a petite young woman asked. She looked about twenty-three or twenty-four but was already a half-step master. Such was the foundation of Butterfly Valley.

They were all alchemists, relying on pills for their cultivation.

“No rush. It’s better to offer help when it’s truly needed,” Die Nishang smiled. She was curious about Lin Yi; with seemingly little skill, he dared to flaunt himself so openly. Facing several half-step masters and over twenty innate martial artists, he remained utterly composed—was it confidence or arrogance?

“Master is wise,” the petite beauty giggled.

Meanwhile, Zhang Xinyi glared at the robbers. “What do you think you’re doing? Don’t you know I’m from the Zhang family?”

The old man leader scoffed, “Miss Zhang, we naturally wouldn’t lay a hand on you. But him—that’s another story.”

With several half-step masters, their strength rivaled the Zhang family’s. Besides, Lin Yi had offended the Mo family; even if Zhang Tianfang himself came, he could only accept it.

“I’d like to see who dares! He’s my friend,” Zhang Xinyi declared, placing herself protectively in front of Lin Yi.

“Heh.” The old man snorted in disdain.

Just a friend—what did it matter if he died?

“Old Chen, why waste words with this little girl?” said another old man in vintage clothes, his hair white with age. He was already over ninety yet had never broken through to become a master.

In another ten years, he’d likely be nothing but bones.

He’d heard that Lin Yi possessed a spiritual herb capable of extending life and was instantly tempted—true or not, he’d snatch it first and ask questions later.

This hot-tempered elder drew a large broadsword from his back. “Heh, boy, I’ll let you die with your eyes open—your killer is Sun Bin, the Seven-Kill Blade!”

With a vicious swing, Sun Bin’s blade crashed down toward Lin Yi’s head, as if to cleave him in two from head to toe.

Lin Yi’s gaze was indifferent as he swept a glance over. With one arm he embraced Zhang Xinyi’s slender waist, sidestepped, and narrowly avoided the strike.

Boom.

The blade gouged a deep groove into the ground.

“Not bad,” Sun Bin said, surprised Lin Yi had dodged his attack. Although he hadn’t used his full strength, at least sixty percent of it was there—which even a seventh-layer innate martial artist would have struggled to avoid.

Ignoring Sun Bin, Lin Yi turned to Zhang Xinyi. “Step aside for a moment.”

“Alright.” Zhang Xinyi nodded, confident in Lin Yi’s strength. Even an old master like Qiao Weiliang had been defeated by Lin Yi in just a few moves. This group might be large, but without a single master among them, they posed little threat.

Seeing Lin Yi disregard him, Sun Bin’s face contorted with rage.

“You arrogant brat, I’ll chop you into pieces today!”

Sun Bin attacked again, this time with his full might.

White arcs of blade energy flashed through the air—the mark of a true blade master, able to transform inner energy into deadly blade force.

Swish, swish.

The blade energy shot toward Lin Yi’s neck, arms, and legs.

With a nimble leap, Lin Yi narrowly evaded the attacks.

The blade energy struck a nearby tree as thick as a man and instantly split it into several pieces.

Sun Bin’s eyes narrowed; furious, he shouted, “Is dodging all you can do? Like a little rat!”

“If that’s how you want it, then I won’t dodge anymore,” Lin Yi replied coolly.

Sun Bin’s face brightened. He raised his blade and charged at Lin Yi’s chest, roaring, “Die!”

Lin Yi reached out and grabbed the blade.

A glint of disdain flickered in Sun Bin’s eyes. His blade—famed as the Seven-Kill Blade—was razor sharp, able to slice even the toughest alloys. It was this weapon that earned him his nickname.

Clang.

Shockingly, when the blade met Lin Yi’s hand, sparks flew—but Lin Yi’s hand was unscathed.

“What…?” Sun Bin’s pupils shrank; the recoil almost knocked the sword from his grip.

“My turn,” Lin Yi said quietly. Gripping the blade, he gave a gentle squeeze.

Snap. The Seven-Kill Blade broke cleanly in two.

Then Lin Yi landed a punch squarely on Sun Bin’s chest.

Bang.

Sun Bin was sent flying, crashing to the ground—his fate uncertain.

This abrupt turn of events left everyone momentarily stunned. Sun Bin was a half-step master, yet this young man had disabled him with a single punch—no one had anticipated such an outcome.