Fu Zhumei’s internal energy cultivation method shared the same lineage as Tang Lici’s, both originating from Fang Zhou. After his extraordinary encounters, his cultivation had reached an extremely high level. Therefore, although his external injuries were severe and he had been bitten by venomous spiders on his back, once his true qi flowed smoothly, he could move freely.

The three of them seized Abbot Chunhui and took refuge in an empty room within the secret chamber corridors beneath Tianqing Temple.

After that Ghost Peony turned and left earlier, she surprisingly hadn’t returned, and temporarily no one came to investigate the disturbance in the secret passage.

Tang Lici pushed the monk Chunhui into his hands, his bloodstained fingers retrieving an object from his torn clothes, about to place it in his mouth.

Fu Zhumei had excellent eyesight and immediately grasped his hand, “What are you trying to eat?”

The object in Tang Lici’s hand hadn’t yet reached his mouth. It was shaped like a magnolia bud, with an exquisite structure, luxurious and brilliant, resembling a piece of jewelry. This thing, contrasted against Tang Lici’s fingers stained with multiple layers of blood, was clearly a beautiful object, yet somehow emanated an aura of death.

“Fragrant Orchid Smile?” Fu Zhumei’s expression changed. “What are you trying to put that in your mouth for?”

“Fragrant Orchid Smile” was an assassination tool, containing deadly poison that would kill both the user and the target, seeking mutual destruction. Fu Zhumei knew Tang Lici was immune to a hundred poisons, but seeing his body covered in wounds, even with immunity to a hundred poisons, one couldn’t repeatedly… it was as if he didn’t care about chopping and slicing his own body like vegetables.

Tang Lici grasped Fu Zhumei’s hand, half his body weight leaning against him. He closed his eyes slightly and coughed once more.

Fu Zhumei could still hear it—that was the sound of blood.

“Tianqing Temple… is the shadow behind Fengliu Store.” Tang Lici didn’t answer why he was putting “Fragrant Orchid Smile” in his mouth, instead saying softly, “They guard secrets, living in a grand dream of spring and autumn. Can you guess who ‘Xie Yaohuang’ is? They speak constantly of restoring the country and seeking revenge, revolving around Xie Yaohuang and allowing him to act recklessly, claiming to restore the Chai Dynasty, yet they don’t take Chai Xijin seriously at all. This doesn’t make sense. Abbot Chunhui, did the previous emperor truly pass away?” He stood gripping Fu Zhumei’s hand, cold sweat pouring from his palm. Fu Zhumei could see his lips cracking again—Tang Lici had lost too much blood.

Abbot Chunhui had his acupoints sealed and couldn’t speak at all.

Tang Lici closed his eyes. “From the day you obtained the ‘Book of Rebirth’ and decided to return to secular life, the Chai clan had shown kindness to your Tianqing Temple in establishing the temple, so you belonged to Emperor Gong. What did you do back then? When you obtained the ‘Book of Rebirth,’ Emperor Gong was already dead. Did you use the ‘Book of Rebirth’ to turn a dead person… into ‘Xie Yaohuang’?”

Upon hearing these words, Fu Zhumei’s expression changed dramatically. Could there really be evil arts in this world capable of raising the dead?

Although Abbot Chunhui couldn’t speak, his eyes gradually revealed a trace of desolation. Tang Lici laughed again. “Regardless of what happened back then, Tianqing Temple has been cowering behind Fengliu Store, constantly using the mere ‘Book of Rebirth’ to manipulate people’s hearts and raise poisonous creatures and human slaves. Yet the affairs of the world, the arts of emperors—how could you hiding behind the ‘Book of Rebirth’ and chanting ‘Amitabha Buddha’ hope to manipulate them?” He said softly, “Old monk, what you’re repaying isn’t kindness, but a ghost…”

His voice was low but carried laughter, followed by another cough.

“A’Li.” Fu Zhumei supported him, feeling him swaying unsteadily. Not knowing how severely he was injured, he was extremely anxious. “How are you? How did you get yourself into this state? A’Yan… where is A’Yan? He went with you to find a physician—do you have medicine? Where’s the medicine?”

“Physician? Dead…” Tang Lici seemed to laugh again. “There’s no physician, and no medicine either.” He fumbled in his bloody clothes, slowly drawing from his chest a handful of extremely fine gold threads. The thing was soft and delicate, like a cluster of autumn night lanterns, yet when Tang Lici casually shook it—the “lantern” suddenly unfurled, revealing itself to be a “sword” woven from extremely fine golden threads.

This golden thread sword had a hollow blade with an extremely beautiful design, also resembling a golden thread accessory intertwined with floral and lunar patterns, brilliant with light and overwhelmingly luxurious. However, the golden threads woven into the “sword” were extremely fine, each strand sharper than a sword blade. An ordinary steel sword would leave one bloody gash when it struck, but this sword would leave ten or twenty bloody gashes, enough to slice flesh into mincemeat.

Of course, without supreme martial arts, one couldn’t wield this extremely light and thin sword.

This sword was worth a fortune, holding the highest price in the many years of auction at the Fallen Thirteenth Floor, named “Golden Thread Song.” “Golden Thread Song” was light as nothing, appearing like a useless ball of gold thread. Tang Lici kept it in his chest, and the “Ghost Peonies” of Tianqing Temple, fearing his cunning and changeability, constantly guarded against Tang Lici’s feigned injury and counterattack, never daring to carefully examine his personal belongings.

Tang Lici stood straight supporting himself against Fu Zhumei, patting his arm with his other hand. “Don’t be afraid.” Covered in wounds but holding his sword with a smile, “Tang Lici’s injuries… were used to fish for an answer. Look… we’ve both caught an evil ghost and captured much ‘evidence’—isn’t that perfectly beautiful?”

Fu Zhumei was stunned. “You did this on purpose?”

Could it be that when A’Li fell into the trap at the Jiang family garden ruins and surrendered his sword after the bloody battle, he had already decided to use his wounded body to fish for an answer? This was certainly more efficient than waiting on Qihun Mountain for Ghost Peony to reveal her true colors, but was A’Li so confident he wouldn’t die first in the iron prison of the Blood Lotus Pod?

Tang Lici slowly turned his head, smiling lightly. “Indeed. If Tang Lici weren’t gravely wounded and near death, unable to resist, would that ‘answer’ have revealed its true form in public, becoming carried away with success? How many people in this world can grasp Tang’s throat? He must have been extremely delighted.”

Fu Zhumei looked at the dark bruises on his throat, momentarily not knowing what to say.

Tang Lici removed the remaining shackles and torture devices from himself and Fu Zhumei, carefully fastening them onto Chunhui. Chunhui closed his eyes and circulated his energy, obviously using his true qi to break through the sealed acupoints. Tang Lici raised “Golden Thread Song,” originally intending to strike with one sword to severely wound this “evidence,” but then paused slightly. He lowered his sword, unsealed Abbot Chunhui’s acupoints, and asked gently, “Where exactly is that so-called Gu King that can control the ‘venomous spiders’?”