Zhao Yan ignored him, her movements unceasing. The peach wood sword pierced the male corpse's chest, and then the tip aimed for the female corpse's chest.
With a single thrust, she pinned the male and female corpses together.
The male and female corpses, which had been struggling desperately, suddenly widened their eyes, fell still, and their raised hands dropped from mid-air.
Zhao Yan withdrew the peach wood sword and placed it on her back.
"How dare you desecrate my corpses!"
An enraged voice rang out. She heard a whistling sound and immediately rolled backward.
With a "crack," the small tree she had been standing beside moments ago instantly snapped in two.
Shining her flashlight, she could see a reflective white line.
"Hmm?"
A light, incredulous hum sounded, and a white-haired elder emerged, clearly not expecting Zhao Yan to dodge his white line.
As the elder waved his hand, many floating, moving paper figures appeared to his left and right.
These paper figures had vacant expressions, yet their eyes were full of spirit. They held various weapons, and with the slightest twitch of the elder's fingers, the paper figures began to brandish their weapons.
Zhao Yan got to her feet and reached into her bag.
"Scatter!" Zhao Yan shouted.
Wu Jiaxin and the others immediately retreated several steps.
The old man stared fixedly at her, and Zhao Yan knew he was coming for her.
The old man wasted no words. His fingers moved incessantly, and the paper figures suspended in the air brandished their weapons, converging on Zhao Yan and slashing at her.
Zhao Yan first kicked a flying paper figure, dodged quickly, and performed two backflips forward.
Seeing Zhao Yan drawing closer, the elder's hand movements became more frequent.
The paper figures also accelerated their approach.
With a backward lean to dodge, Zhao Yan landed on her knees, her feet scraping the ground. Her neck narrowly avoided a steel blade.
Supporting herself with her right hand, she pushed off, her angled body dodging.
As she landed, she reached out with her left hand, instantly grabbing a transparent line.
Gritting her teeth, she yanked hard to the left.
Her palm was cut by the line, and her blood flowed onto the transparent thread.
Zhao Yan's expression turned cold. With the color of the blood, she could track the movements of these transparent lines.
She drew her peach wood sword and slashed along the blood-marked lines.
Seeing this, the elder's face showed a smug expression: "Foolish creature, you truly believe my line can be cut by your sword? Never mind that yours is a wooden sword; even a sharp iron sword couldn't sever it."
As he spoke, the elder suddenly felt his fingers being pulled forward as if a force was tugging at these fine threads.
He immediately looked forward and saw that Zhao Yan's wooden sword had tightly wrapped around the white line.
The body of the peach wood sword was encircled by layer upon layer of the line.
"Did you really think I came here to cut your lines?" Zhao Yan sneered, then thrust her sword fiercely into the ground.
The peach wood sword instantly sank into the earth, leaving only the hilt.
This caused the white lines to become completely taut.
The paper figures were immediately pulled in, and even the elder was yanked forward several steps.
He vigorously shook his hand holding the white line, the line digging many imprints into his fingers.
As he was shaking off the line, he saw Zhao Yan charging towards him.
Startled, he dodged backward, but Zhao Yan grabbed dirt from the ground and flung it at his face.
Then, she swept her leg at his lower body.
With a "bang," her leg struck his, instantly sweeping the elder off his feet.
Xu Wen finally managed to relieve himself, his body no longer needing to move.
Several large bumps had appeared on his head. Seeing the old scoundrel who had caused him trouble fall, he wanted revenge and shouted, "Master Zhao, I'm coming!"
Xu Wen picked up a stone and charged at the elder menacingly.
As the stone was about to strike, the elder performed a swift flip, rising from the ground and quickly dodging Xu Wen's fierce attack.
He raised his left hand and grabbed Xu Wen by the neck.
"Heh heh! Let's talk this out!" Xu Wen put down the stone and said with a smile.
"Peace is precious, peace is precious. We are all civilized people; fighting and killing is not good."
Seeing that the elder did not attack, Xu Wen shouted, "Old scoundrel, I'll poke your eyes first! Then I'll poke your backside!"
He thrust two fingers towards the elder's eyeballs.
The elder dodged quickly, grabbing the front of Xu Wen's shirt with his right hand and flinging it open.
Seeing a patch of dark flesh on his chest, the old man's face lit up with joy. He thrust his right hand into Xu Wen's chest, chanting, "Boli boji hong, boli boji hong!"
Xu Wen: "Aaaahhh!"
With a few cries of pain, his eyeballs began to bulge, and he felt his teeth growing faster, his fingernails elongating.
Seeing Zhao Yan circling around, the elder stopped chanting. He immediately grabbed Xu Wen by the back of his neck, hid his head behind Xu Wen, and used him as a shield.
"I can overlook your desecration of my corpses. You retreat twenty paces immediately, quickly! Otherwise, I will kill him."
Zhao Yan stopped and said to Xu Wen, "Boss Xu, today I, Zhao Yan, act on behalf of heaven. To uphold righteousness, you die a worthy death!"
"Don't worry, Boss Xu. Besides this menace today, tomorrow I'll bring them all to your house for the funeral feast!"
Disciple number one raised his hand and shouted, "Funeral feast, yay! I want to sit at the widow's table!"
Sensing the atmosphere was off, he chuckled, "Sitting at the children's table is fine too."
He remembered Boss Xu falling from a tree earlier and landing on him, nearly crushing his manhood, leaving him just shy of losing his virility. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, wishing he could attend Boss Xu's funeral feast.
"Let us mourn Boss Xu for three seconds, to bid farewell to our hero!"
Zhao Yan clapped her hands together.
Wu Jiaxin and the others immediately lowered their heads, clasping their fists in front of their chests.
Xu Wen: "..."
The elder's face darkened, his right hand gripping Xu Wen's chest tightly.
Seeing that Zhao Yan and the others truly didn't care about Xu Wen's life or death, his expression grew increasingly grim, and his right hand tightened its grip.
Xu Wen trembled all over from the pain. The corpse poison had already spread, and the flesh on his chest was necrotic; he shouldn't have felt any pain. Yet, as the elder's hand pierced his chest, he felt a heart-wrenching pain.
Zhao Yan took out her phone, glanced at the time, and suddenly smiled at the elder.
The elder looked at Zhao Yan's smile, somewhat bewildered. Following her gaze, he immediately looked behind him.
"Little flying stick, coming!"
"Duang!"
Master Wang held a wooden stick.
As the elder turned, the stick struck him hard on the head.
The elder's attention was focused on Zhao Yan; he hadn't expected anyone else to appear.
This blow made his old eyes blur.
His whole body felt unsteady.
With trembling hands, he pointed at Zhao Yan, disbelief in his voice: "Was all of this within your calculations!"