My Years in the Jianghu with the Prince: A Time of Unethical Conduct

It was the seventh day of the first lunar month, at the third quarter of the hour of Chou (1-3 AM). The night was as dark as thick ink, so deep that it could not be dissolved.

At this peaceful moment, the tranquility of Zixiao Villa on Qingcheng Mountain was shattered by a sudden disaster.

For some unknown reason, a raging fire suddenly broke out in the library of the manor. The fire was extremely fierce, like a giant beast with its fangs bared, and instantly engulfed the entire building.

The flames shot into the sky, as if to pierce the clouds and illuminate the dark night sky as bright as day.

Zixiao Mountain Villa has been established for over a hundred years. Although it has weathered many storms during that time, it has never encountered such a thrilling and perilous situation.

Just as the disciples were rushing anxiously to put out the fire, two figures, as swift as lightning, suddenly rushed out from where the flames were soaring into the sky!

The two figures, one in black and one in white, immediately engaged in a fierce battle in mid-air without pausing for even a moment after bursting out of the raging sea of ​​fire.

"That is—" A disciple with sharp eyes in the crowd exclaimed first, and then quickly recognized that the black figure was Elder Zeng from the manor.

Looking again at the white figure entangled in fierce battle with Elder Zeng, its movements were as elusive as a ghost, and its moves were incredibly sharp.

Moreover, as the two sides exchanged blows, the white figure's attacks became increasingly fierce and ruthless, and it even began to exert a subtle pressure on Elder Zeng.

In just a few rounds, Elder Zeng was already exhausted and unable to withstand the opponent's fierce attacks.

With a muffled thud, Elder Zeng was struck hard by the white figure, coughing up blood and flying backward like a kite with a broken string.

Once he landed and regained his footing, Elder Zeng's face was ashen, devoid of any color. He clutched the wound on his chest tightly with one hand, his body trembling slightly, as if even standing up was extremely difficult.

Just then, seeing that many disciples had arrived at the scene, Elder Zeng, enduring his pain, shouted at the top of his lungs, "Stop this thief quickly! He set fire to our manor and took the opportunity to steal our sect's Purple Cloud Heart Sutra!"

Upon hearing this, the disciples were all taken aback, their faces filled with astonishment and anger. Immediately afterward, they drew their swords without hesitation and surged forward like a tidal wave, attempting to intercept the mysterious white-clad thief.

However, facing the group of disciples who were aggressively surrounding him, the man in white showed no intention of backing down. Instead, he moved with light and agile steps, advancing instead of retreating.

He remained calm and composed, slowly reaching into his robes and swiftly pulling out a strangely shaped hidden weapon.

At this critical moment, Elder Zeng's heart skipped a beat, and an ominous premonition surged into his mind.

His eyes widened, his face instantly turning deathly pale, and he shouted in a panic to the disciples behind him, "Oh no! Everyone be careful! Retreat immediately!"

However, it was too late.

A cold snort came from the white-robed man, full of mockery. He flicked his wrist and threw the hidden weapon he was holding into the air.

In an instant, countless silver nails gleaming with cold light poured down like a torrential rain, shooting straight towards the crowd!

Faced with this sudden attack, some quick-thinking disciples swiftly drew their swords from their waists, attempting to use the blades to block the oncoming silver nails.

However, how could a mere sword withstand such a dense and overwhelming attack?

In an instant, screams of agony rose and fell incessantly, and many disciples fell to the ground before they could even dodge.

When the dust settled, all that could be seen were wounded people groaning in pain, and amidst this mess, only one person stood tall and proud.

"How dare you, you scoundrel!" Elder Zeng roared in anger upon seeing the tragic scene. His eyes were wide open, almost popping out of their sockets, as he glared at the person before him, his face filled with resentment.

Elder Zeng was now enraged beyond measure. Despite the pain in his body, he gritted his teeth, raised his longsword once more, and charged towards the man without hesitation.

Seeing this, the man in white smiled contemptuously again: "Hmph, since you've chosen your own death, then I'll grant your wish!"

After saying that, he flashed and disappeared from the spot like a ghost.

Elder Zeng's previous injuries had made him slow to move and unable to react effectively.

A flash of cold light appeared, and an incredibly sharp sword silently appeared behind him. The sword came with overwhelming force, carrying a deadly intent, aimed straight for Elder Zeng's vitals.

But just before that sword was about to pierce Elder Zeng's body, another sword light suddenly shone!

In the blink of an eye, the two swords clashed in mid-air, producing a crisp and ear-piercing sound, and sparks flew everywhere.

"Master!" Elder Zeng exclaimed in surprise.

The visitor was none other than the owner of Zixiao Manor.

Upon the arrival of the manor lord, the man in white immediately retreated, intending to flee.

The manor lord's eyes were sharp, fixed on the man in white like a hawk. He moved with lightning speed, blocking the man's path in a few leaps.

"Where do you think you're going!" the manor lord roared, brandishing his long sword, which transformed into streaks of sword light as he attacked the man in white.

But the man in white clearly had no intention of fighting. He dodged the attack with a few quick steps and said coldly to him, "Does the manor lord still have the leisure to get entangled with me here? My Soul-Chasing Nails are covered in poison. If you delay any longer, your disciples will be doomed."

"what?!"

Upon hearing this, the manor lord ceased his pursuit and immediately withdrew to return to his aid. Before leaving, he asked one last, resentful question: "Who exactly are you?!"

The man in white stood atop the high courtyard wall, adjusted the hideous mask on his face, and chuckled a few times as if to make sure everyone could see him clearly before saying, "My surname is Xie. You can guess who I am."

Three days later, the sun still shone brightly on the streets and alleys of Yongcheng, but this day was destined to be anything but peaceful.

The news that Shi Hanxi was about to be executed swept through the entire Yongcheng like a raging torrent.

The streets and alleys, teahouses and restaurants were filled with people discussing this matter.

However, all of this turmoil had nothing to do with Chu Ling and the others.

While everyone was still caught up in the turmoil, this group had already quietly left Yongcheng and was heading in the direction indicated by the treasure map.

Xie Yan, who had refused Chu Ling's carriage, sneezed violently while riding his beloved horse.

He rubbed his nose; his intuition told him that whenever he sneezed, it meant trouble was on its way.