61: Chapter 61 You people truly deserve to die!

Blacksmith Wang propped himself up against a rock and stood up, testing his leg. It still hurt, but he could walk.

His wife wrapped the baby's swaddling clothes a bit tighter, and the two prepared to continue their journey.

"Rustle, rustle!!"

A flurry of hurried footsteps came from the bushes behind them.

Blacksmith Wang whipped his head around. Several figures emerged from the darkness, their grayish-white robes gleaming faintly under the moonlight.

The leader was a middle-aged man with an ordinary face and simple clothes, but his eyes were as sharp as a falcon's.

It was none other than Zhou Yuande.

"You..."

Blacksmith Wang's face turned deathly pale in an instant.

He pulled the baby close to his chest and instinctively shielded his wife behind him. His wife gripped the corner of his shirt tightly, her fingers turning white, her entire body trembling.

Zhou Yuande stopped in his tracks, staring at the bundle in Blacksmith Wang's arms with excitement in his eyes.

"Give me the child."

His voice wasn't loud, but on this deathly silent mountain path, every word was as sharp and clear as a knife.

"I am not here to harm you. This child has a Born Spirit Body. Only by coming to our Yunshan Sect will his talent not be wasted."

Hearing this, Blacksmith Wang only held the child even tighter.

He stared at Zhou Yuande, his eyes devoid of tears, filled only with bloodshot veins.

"Talent?"

"He is only a few months old! How do you know what talent he has? You people want to snatch him away before he can even speak, yet you only care about my child's talent?"

Zhou Yuande did not speak.

"He is just an ordinary child!"

"He is my son!"

Blacksmith Wang's voice suddenly rose, veins bulging on his forehead and neck. "He cries when he's hungry, sleeps when he's tired, and needs someone to change his diapers when he soils himself! Do you Immortals care about any of that?"

"All you see is his spirit body, some heaven-sent Opportunity! Has any of you ever held him? Has any of you ever fed him a single drop of milk?"

"Where were you when he threw tantrums at night? Where were you when he had a fever?"

"You only heard that my son has some spirit body... and every single one of you became like mad dogs!"

"Enough."

Zhou Yuande's voice wasn't loud, but it felt like a bucket of cold water dousing them.

The Disciples behind him closed in tighter.

The flickering light from the Magical Artifacts shone on the faces of Blacksmith Wang and his wife, making them look as pale as paper.

Blacksmith Wang's wife had her arm grabbed by a Disciple. She struggled desperately, but that hand was like an iron vise, completely unyielding.

Blacksmith Wang rushed forward to push the man away, but was slapped and sent flying by that Qi Refining Disciple.

"Husband!"

The woman screamed.

Another Disciple took the Opportunity to snatch the swaddled baby from Blacksmith Wang's arms.

"My son!"

Ignoring Blacksmith Wang's tearful cries, the Disciple didn't even spare him a glance and walked over to Zhou Yuande.

"Elder, there is some special method on this swaddling cloth. It seems able to mask the Spirit Child."

"Wahhh~"

The baby finally woke up and wailed loudly. The crying echoed along the mountain path, breaking one's heart to hear.

Blacksmith Wang crawled on the ground, reaching out. His fingers were only inches away from the baby's swaddling cloth, but he just couldn't reach it. His legs kicked against the ground, mud smeared all over his face, as tears and blood mixed together across his features.

A casual strike from a Qi Refining Disciple was enough to rupture the internal organs of a Mortal.

"Give him back to me... Give him back..."

His voice was weak and intermittent, sounding like a leaking, broken bellows.

One Disciple, seemingly unable to bear the sight, leaned close to Zhou Yuande and lowered his voice. "Elder Zhou, the Spirit Child's parents... should we take them along too?"

"To avoid trouble in the future."

Zhou Yuande shook his head, his gaze falling upon Blacksmith Wang on the ground, watching him crawl and reach for the child.

"The Spirit Child is a heaven-sent Opportunity and the hope of our Sect. He cannot have such filthy parents as a weakness."

The Disciple froze for a moment, then understood.

Zhou Yuande continued, his gaze sweeping over the Disciples. "Never mind us, even those people from the Xuanyi Sect—no matter who it is—the moment they obtain a Spirit Child, they would never let his parents remain in this world."

"Once this Spirit Child grows up, he must only have the Sect in his heart, and nothing else!"

"Do it."

Zhou Yuande finished speaking.

One of the Disciples raised his hand, and two green blades of light shot from his fingertips as fast as lightning. Blacksmith Wang's wife still had her mouth open, her cries caught in her throat, as the light blades pierced straight through her chest.

Her body froze, her eyes wide with dilated pupils. A trickle of blood spilled from the corner of her mouth as she slowly collapsed.

"My wife..."

Blacksmith Wang's voice was heart-wrenching as he scrambled and crawled toward his wife.

He cradled her body. Blood gushed from her wound, staining his hands, her clothes, and the soil beneath them red.

Her eyes were still open, and tear stains still lingered on her face, but her pupils had already dilated.

Blacksmith Wang's hands trembled. He desperately pressed down on the wound on his wife's chest, trying to stop the bleeding, but the blood kept gushing out from between his fingers, impossible to stem.

"Don't... don't..."

He muttered repeatedly, his face a mess of mixed tears and blood.

"Hmm?"

Zhou Yuande looked at the remaining Disciple who had hesitated to act, a flash of annoyance crossing his eyes.

"Useless!"

With those words,

Zhou Yuande moved his finger, shooting out a beam of spiritual light.

Blacksmith Wang's body jerked violently as a bloody hole opened in his back, blood spraying out.

"Ugh..."

Blacksmith Wang's body slowly went limp, collapsing over his wife with his face pressed against hers. His hand was still covering the wound on her chest, never letting go even in death.

The baby's crying continued, wail after wail, echoing endlessly.

In Blacksmith Wang's dying eyes, the reflections of his wife and child were all that remained...

And this entire scene

was fully witnessed by Wu Li from afar.

Under normal circumstances, it felt like things had gone far enough and Wu Li should make his move. However, according to Wu Li's own calculations, using the swaddling cloth to mask spiritual sense could fool those who had cultivated for years, but it would be very difficult to deceive ordinary worldly people.

Yet, Blacksmith Wang had managed to bring the child out so easily.

Wu Li felt in his heart that something was still missing.

Therefore, Wu Li decided to wait a bit longer.

Up ahead,

Zhou Yuande held the child, about to turn and leave.

Just then, a figure walked up from the mountain path.

"Who is it?!"

"Stop!"

Several Disciples of the Yunshan Sect whipped out their Magical Artifacts, which shimmered with spiritual light, as they glared warily ahead.

The newcomer did not stop, acting as if he didn't even see the blades pointed at him.

He wore a dark green official robe with a jade belt at his waist. His face was square and upright, but at this moment, it was completely expressionless, cold as iron.

He walked slowly, his gaze sweeping past the bodies of Blacksmith Wang and his wife lying in a pool of blood, before finally landing on the swaddled baby in Zhou Yuande's arms.

The night wind was like a knife, and the mountain path was deathly silent.

Chief Clerk Gu Qing approached under the moonlight, his dark green official robe rustling in the wind.

His gaze swept over the corpses of Blacksmith Wang and his wife lying in a pool of blood, finally resting on the swaddled baby in Zhou Yuande's arms. His eyes were as cold as the ice of the Nine Netherworld.

"You people really deserve to die."

His voice wasn't loud,

but it exploded like a clap of thunder, shaking the withered branches on both sides of the mountain path until they trembled.