Chapter 547: The Overbearing Blood Tiger Gang

Chapter 547 The Blood Tiger Clan Goes Too Far

The three members of the Blood Tiger Clan stared at the white-haired man climbing out of the coffin.

A blood-red glow fell upon his face, and his eyes seemed to shimmer with an eerie, sinister light, making him look ghastly and terrifying.

“A ghost!”

Terror seized their hearts, and they couldn’t help but scream.

In the dead of night, amid the graveyard, with the howling wind, a man crawling out of a coffin claiming they had disturbed his sleep—it was too unnerving.

Even Zhao Yan, who was pinned down, trembled all over, paralyzed with fear.

Though he deeply respected his master, he didn’t want his master’s ghost to come looking for him.

But Wang Tong, who had been shaking all along, suddenly seemed to lose his mind and steeled himself: “Master, since you’re dead, don’t come back!”

He lunged at Qi Yuan with a dagger.

“Sigh, I just wanted to quietly undergo mortal transformation. Why do so many people keep forcing my hand?” Qi Yuan felt helpless.

His original plan was to continue the white-haired man’s mortal transformation.

Since the white-haired man was dead, he would just borrow his coffin to continue the process.

With his talent, lying in a coffin for a year or two, doing nothing, he would probably break through to Ancestral God through mortal transformation, right?

Qi Yuan’s plan was flawless.

After all, based on his years of watching TV dramas and chasing comics, he understood mortal transformation as akin to seclusion—hiding away in the mortal world, undisturbed by worldly affairs.

But many failed at mortal transformation. In Qi Yuan’s view, it was because they chose the wrong location. Though they sought seclusion, they were constantly bothered by petty thugs and arrogant heroes, inviting endless trouble.

So, for mortal transformation, one had to pick a good place, undisturbed and peaceful.

Then… what place could be better than a coffin?

After all, who would bother someone in a coffin?

The coffin was practically a holy land for mortal transformation!

Qi Yuan’s calculations were spot on, but who would have thought that even inside a coffin, someone would come to disturb him?

He was furious.

“You forced my hand. I only wanted to lie in my coffin and sleep in peace!”

“Those who force me deserve to die!”

Qi Yuan stood up, glaring fiercely at Wang Tong charging toward him.

He raised the coffin lid and slammed it hard onto Wang Tong.

“How dare you disturb me!”

The coffin lid smacked into Wang Tong, stunning him completely—his head buzzed, stars danced before his eyes.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Qi Yuan kept pounding, looking utterly ruthless.

A few more blows, and Wang Tong’s head was flattened, blood streaming.

Qi Yuan gripped the coffin lid, his expression savage: “Next life, don’t disturb people’s sleep!”

In the memories Qi Yuan had acquired, the white-haired man had chosen mortal transformation in earnest, living almost entirely without supernatural power.

Since Qi Yuan was continuing that mortal transformation, he naturally had to refrain from using any supernatural power.

No skills, no spells, no divine abilities—none of that could be used.

But… the robust physique he had gained through hard training and experience from killing monsters—that he could still use, right?

He wasn’t using supernatural power; he was just a bit stronger, a bit tougher.

Meanwhile, the others present sized up Qi Yuan, fear gripping their hearts.

Not only had he risen from the dead, but he was also carrying a coffin lid and had beaten Wang Tong to death!

“Next, it’s your turn. You forced my hand!”

Qi Yuan, coffin lid in hand, looked like a ruthless bandit—no, a ruthless ghost!

Xu Jiaoyun, terrified, turned and ran.

She was already traumatized; the Purple Dawn Forest was full of graves, too creepy.

But in her panicked flight, she tripped over a small grave mound and fell onto a sharp bamboo stake, a huge bloody gash on her abdomen, blood flowing.

Yet, ignoring the pain, she struggled to get up and keep running.

Qi Yuan looked at Xu Jiaoyun’s wound, a pitying expression on his face: “That looks so painful. I can’t bear to see you suffer like this. I’d better send you down!”

Qi Yuan thought himself chivalrous and kind-hearted, just like a gentleman, unable to watch Xu Jiaoyun’s agony, so he played the great benefactor and ended her suffering.

Qi Yuan raised the coffin lid and hurled it outward. Xu Jiaoyun looked up to see a dark shadow fall, smashing into her with brutal force, driving her body downward until the sharp bamboo stake pierced clean through her.

“Pfft…”

Blood trickled from her lips, and Xu Jiaoyun was dead for good.

The remaining three Blood Tiger Clan members trembled in fear. They were just local thugs, hardly powerful cultivators, and naturally cowered before such a ferocious Qi Yuan.

A short, wiry man gritted his teeth and said, “Are you a cultivator? Our Blood Tiger Clan has cultivators too. You can’t kill me; the Blood Tiger Clan won’t let you off!”

This man was too fierce to escape.

In such a dire situation, he still managed to think of a threat.

Clearly, he had some “quick wit.”

As for the other two brainless thugs, they were too scared to speak.

“Don’t talk nonsense. I’m no cultivator. I don’t use supernatural power—I’m just naturally strong!” Qi Yuan quickly denied.

He just ate a bit more and was a bit stronger—how did that make him a supernatural being?

If he revealed himself as a supernatural being, how could he continue his mortal transformation?

With that, Qi Yuan picked up the coffin lid again and, in a fit of rage, bashed the three Blood Tiger Clan members to death.

“Huff… I’m exhausted!” Qi Yuan feigned heavy breathing, his acting on point.

Zhao Yan looked at the white-haired man before him and couldn’t help but venture, “Master?”

Qi Yuan finally turned to Zhao Yan: “I am your master, but I am not.”

Zhao Yan was stunned, utterly confused.

What did “am but am not” mean?

“Master, weren’t you dead?” Zhao Yan asked cautiously, studying Qi Yuan.

The man before him, with his white hair, looked almost exactly like his master.

But if there was a difference, his eyes lacked the same weariness as his master’s.

Of course, what he didn’t know was that the so-called master was originally formed from the blood Qi Yuan had once dripped into the game.

To some extent, it was Qi Yuan's blood-dripping clone.

Even if the appearance differed, when he looked at it, he would still find it identical.

"My soul is dead, but my person still lives," Qi Yuan said.

"Soul dead? Person still lives?" Zhao Yan was baffled.

Why did he recognize every word, yet when strung together, they made no sense?

Qi Yuan glanced at the coffin, a look of regret on his face.

Now that the plan had failed, lying in the coffin was no longer an option.

"We're going home," Qi Yuan said.

He intended to return home and continue his mortal cultivation.

Zhao Yan froze, then his expression grew tense: "Master, you killed the Blood Tiger Gang's men—they won't let us off!"

Zhao Yan was frantic.

In Cloudblood City, aside from the Thornblood and the nobles, gangs like the Blood Tiger Gang held the most power, ruthlessly oppressing the common folk.

And behind the Blood Tiger Gang stood a member of Thornblood: the Blood Tiger Cultivator.

The Blood Tiger Cultivator had once been a powerful practitioner, but after joining Thornblood, he transformed himself into a blood tiger.

Against such a gang, ordinary civilians had no chance or qualification to resist.

They could only be exploited or join the gang to get by.

"What, the Blood Tiger Gang won't let me cultivate as a mortal?" Qi Yuan's eyes widened in fury. "How can people be so wicked? I never offended them—I just quietly lived as an ordinary man, and now they dare to come after me!"

Qi Yuan was truly angry.

When a good man is pushed too far, blood may spill five steps.

He had been peacefully lying in his coffin, sleeping.

And then he was disturbed.

Now he planned to go home and continue his mortal cultivation, yet this Blood Tiger Gang was too oppressive!

Zhao Yan blinked, a bit dazed, but he still spoke cautiously: "Master... maybe we should leave Cloudblood City? Otherwise, if the Blood Tiger Gang comes after us, we might die horribly."

Though his master's combat prowess earlier was fierce, no less than a cultivator's,

in Cloudblood City, the concept of Thornblood's invincibility was deeply ingrained.

After all, Thornblood could communicate with the eerie gods!

Those gods hung high in the sky!

"Running away won't solve anything." Qi Yuan shook his head, his tone profound. "If I flee, won't I have been bullied for nothing?"

"So... we fight back?" Zhao Yan muttered.

How could common folk contend with a gang?

Except for some out-of-city wanderers, no one dared provoke gangs.

And those wanderers dared not enter the city—once they did, Thornblood would capture them.

"Fight back? No, this is self-defense," Qi Yuan said matter-of-factly. "But maybe we're judging them too harshly. What if the Blood Tiger Gang doesn't bother me?"

Qi Yuan reconsidered.

Since he was cultivating as a mortal, he shouldn't be too aggressive.

What if the Blood Tiger Gang members were all lovable sorts, polite even as villains?

After all, in some TV show, the great villain Duke Cao was especially courteous.

He shouldn't misunderstand good people.

"Come on, let's go back to sleep." Qi Yuan prepared to return to sleep.

He had lain in the coffin too long; he felt he reeked of death.

...

Lixi Street.

The morning light shone, like blood spilled on the ground.

The common folk here rose early, donning short jackets to go out for work.

Perhaps due to too little and too poor food, the people here were all gaunt and sallow, malnourished.

Wu Xiang wore a long robe, apparently stripped from a corpse, and frowned as he spoke.

"That white-haired man actually died?"

Wu Lian nodded: "He died just a few days ago, and even a big shot from Thornblood came to check."

At this, Wu Lian felt a faint sadness.

That white-haired man was her neighbor—in Lixi Street, where everyone was malnourished, he counted as a great handsome man.

Wu Lian often stole glances at him.

Over a decade, his appearance hadn't changed, so Wu Lian guessed he was a cultivator.

"A pity. He was a cultivator; otherwise, if we could recruit him, it would boost our strength," Wu Xiang said.

He was from outside the city, a member of the rebel army.

They had recruited many cultivators, all to overthrow Thornblood's rule.

But their gap with Thornblood was too vast; they could only linger outside the city like homeless dogs.

Wu Xiang cast aside that thought and lowered his voice: "Wu Lian, this time you have to leave with me. I've cleared all the channels."

Hearing this, Wu Lian's face lit up with joy.

Though life inside the city was better than outside—no constant fear of being devoured by wild eerie beings—

she was different. She had been targeted by Thornblood; once she turned eighteen, she would be sent to the Rebirth Hall to become a tool for hatching eerie spirits.

"Good!" Wu Lian nodded firmly.

But just then, Wu Xiang's expression suddenly changed: "Damn, the Blood Tiger Gang!"

He looked out into the courtyard and saw a dozen people in Blood Tiger Gang uniforms heading their way, menacingly.

Wu Xiang's face turned pale instantly. He knew there was a traitor in the rebel army—someone had sold him out.

"What to do!"

"What to do!"

At that moment, his heart was frantic, but someone was even more anxious than him.

That someone was Zhao Yan.

Since returning to the courtyard yesterday, he hadn't slept a wink. With dark circles under his eyes, he kept looking outside, terrified that the Blood Tiger Gang would come for him.

And sure enough, at dawn, the Blood Tiger Gang sent over a dozen men, looking fierce.

And from their uniforms, they were inner disciples.

The combat prowess of inner disciples was not something ordinary disciples could match.

"Bad news, bad news, Master! The Blood Tiger Gang is attacking!"

Zhao Yan shouted in panic.

Inside the house, Qi Yuan, sipping his porridge, felt the meal lose its flavor.

"Alas... it seems I still thought too highly of this world."

"I just accidentally killed a few of your men in self-defense, didn't I?"

"And now you dare to come after me for revenge?"

"All I wanted was to live in quiet seclusion, detached from worldly affairs—but you forced my hand!"

Qi Yuan gritted his teeth and smashed the bowl in his hand against the ground.

He grabbed the hoe leaning against the wall, strode out of the courtyard with a majestic, dragon-like gait.

"You bastards of the Blood Tiger Gang, you push me too far!"

Qi Yuan stepped out of the yard, his voice booming, hoe in hand, blocking the path of the dozen or so inner disciples of the Blood Tiger Gang.

He slammed the hoe into the ground with a thunderous crash!

Overwhelmingly domineering!

The only flaw was that he might have used too much force—the wooden wedge came loose and fell off, splitting the hoe in two.

All that remained in Qi Yuan's hand was a wooden stick.

The Blood Tiger Gang disciples stood dumbfounded, utterly bewildered.

"Who is he?"

"What are you doing?"

"Wait—isn't he that white-haired cultivator? Wasn't he dead?"

"How is he alive?"

"Risen from the dead?"

The inner disciples of the Blood Tiger Gang murmured among themselves, confused and uncertain.

In the neighboring courtyard, Wu Lian covered her mouth: "How is he alive?"

She had personally mourned Qi Yuan and even attended his funeral feast.

And now Qi Yuan was coming out with a hoe, blocking the Blood Tiger Gang.

What was happening?

The Blood Tiger Gang's minor leader's face shifted through various expressions—this situation was eerie.

But right now, they were busy hunting down rebels and had no time to waste on Qi Yuan.

"Hey, is there a misunderstanding? We're here to arrest your neighbor—she's hiding rebels in her courtyard!" the minor leader said.

After all, this man was a cultivator, and his strength was unknown. If they delayed and let the rebels escape, the loss would be too great.

"Hmph, do you take me for a fool?" Qi Yuan sneered. "You pretend to be hunting rebels, but really you're lowering my guard to capture me!"

The Blood Tiger Gang minor leader was stunned.

Had they run into an idiot?

"Hmph, I won't fall for the same trick twice," Qi Yuan said calmly. "Last night, I trusted you too much, thinking you were magnanimous enough not to cause me trouble.

But today, not only do you come to trouble me, you use the same old trick to lower my guard—do you think I'd be fooled again?"

"???" The minor leader was utterly confused.

What last night? What trick?

Why couldn't he understand what this white-haired man was saying?

Not only him, but Zhao Yan was also half-understanding—feeling like he got it, yet grasping nothing at all.

The Blood Tiger Gang minor leader's face darkened, and he dropped all pretense: "Since you refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit, brothers, kill him!"

Seeing this, Qi Yuan's face lit up with the gleam of a wise man: "See? My sharp mind saw through your act—no more pretending, huh?"

Qi Yuan held the hoe without its head—or rather, a wooden stick—and stood before the Blood Tiger Gang members.

"Anyone who dares to obstruct my path to seclusion must die!"

A thought flashed through Qi Yuan's mind.

Here, trying to live in seclusion, someone disturbed him every day.

What if... he killed everyone who wanted to disturb him?

Wouldn't that give him a pure, quiet seclusion?

With that thought, a new plan began to take shape in Qi Yuan's mind.

(End of this chapter)