The Seven-Star Kunlun Sword is HuLü Wan’s life-bound sword. Straightforward and bold by nature, HuLü Wan has shaped the sword’s personality to match her own, and its blade faintly emits a white glow. With sufficient strength, it can cut through any dark matter. Because of this, the Seven-Star Kunlun Sword is regarded by all righteous cultivators as the most sacred sword.

However, the Seven-Star Kunlun Sword in HuLü Yan’s hand is nothing like the one HuLü Xing remembers. Its blade is shrouded in a barely visible black mist, and the formerly pristine white hilt has darkened to a somber black at some unknown point. No longer the revered holy sword of the past, it now radiates a chilling, ominous aura, blending almost completely with HuLü Yan.

HuLü Yan looked down at the sudden appearance of the long sword in his hand, surprised. But soon, understanding dawned in his eyes.

“So, it’s you…” HuLü Yan muttered softly, pausing briefly before bursting into laughter. “Haha, so it’s you.”

The voice that had awakened him was none other than the Seven-Star Kunlun Sword. It had been calling him.

Abruptly, HuLü Yan stilled his laughter and looked icily at HuLü Xing, whose face was frozen in disbelief. He raised the Seven-Star Kunlun Sword and swung it.

A web that had seemed impenetrable just moments ago was reduced to fragments under the sharp edge of the Seven-Star Kunlun Sword. Shattered pieces littered the ground. The once-formidable web was now nothing but scraps.

HuLü Xing’s self-destruction attempt was interrupted and fizzled out, with the golden light dissipating rapidly from his body. Unable to support his weight, his last remaining leg gave out, and he collapsed with a thud.

“HuLü Wan, it’s you again. Why is it always you…” HuLü Xing’s eyes bulged, fixed on the Seven-Star Kunlun Sword. The sword had lain dormant for nearly twenty years, even sealing itself off rather than letting anyone else wield it. HuLü Xing had dreamed of bestowing it upon his son. He trained HuLü Lan with strict discipline, believing that once his son reached HuLü Wan’s level, he could easily master the Seven-Star Kunlun Sword.

He was wrong.

The Seven-Star Kunlun Sword had waited almost twenty years, even allowing itself to be tainted with demonic energy, loyally following HuLü Wan’s son without a second thought.

The black mist on the sword seemed to enjoy HuLü Yan’s presence, affectionately wrapping around his hand, climbing up his arm in a gentle, intimate gesture.

Expressionless, HuLü Yan stepped in front of HuLü Xing, looking down on him from above.

Then, HuLü Yan spoke, “Zhou Shang.”

Zhou Shang appeared instantly, dropping to one knee with a tense posture at HuLü Yan’s feet. “Gang Master.”

“Pull out his tongue,” HuLü Yan ordered coldly.

“Yes,” Zhou Shang replied, wasting no time. Ignoring HuLü Xing’s desperate struggle, he tore out his tongue.

The bloody tongue landed on the ground. HuLü Xing nearly fainted from the pain, blood pouring from his mouth, yet his gaze remained fixed on the Seven-Star Kunlun Sword. He had truly lost.

In the end, HuLü Wan had won. No matter how he schemed to ruin HuLü Wan’s life, banish her from the HuLü family, or even use her son as a pawn, he had never once truly defeated HuLü Wan.

He was no match for her. His son was no match for her son. He and his son had lost utterly.

Overwhelmed by pain, HuLü Xing’s vision went dark, and his mind fogged over as if all his energy were draining upward. In a moment of sensory loss, he could only see HuLü Wan’s face emerging from the darkness.

Her beautiful face wore a playful smile, and she winked at him, her voice full of laughter. “From now on, little brother will just have to let me win.”

Little brother.

Why was he the little brother? Just because he was born two years after her, he was always outshined. If there were a next life, he would want to be the only child of his parents. No more being anyone’s little brother, no more having a sister who outclassed him in every way.

Closing his eyes, blood-red tears seeped from the corners, leaving his vision vacant when he opened them again, with only blankness left.

Zhou Shang looked at HuLü Xing for a moment, his expression odd. Then he turned, frowning. “Gang Master, is he mad?”

HuLü Yan showed no particular reaction, only offering a faint smile at HuLü Xing’s vacant expression. “Do you think you can avoid it this way? I said our time will come.”

He ordered Zhou Shang, “Keep him alive. Don’t let him die so easily.”

“Yes.”

The other followers, seeing HuLü Xing and HuLü Lan broken, lost all spirit and quickly surrendered. The black mist in the sky dissipated, and sunlight covered the Capital City once again.

The sky, however, remained gloomy, with heavy clouds hanging low over the city, enveloping the capital in an oppressive atmosphere that felt like an invisible net.

The city gates opened, and HuLü Yan led his troops into the streets, carrying the scent of blood. The streets lay deserted, with all doors and windows closed. No one dared come out. Yet many caught sight of the Seven-Star Kunlun Sword, which they could never touch, resting quietly in HuLü Yan’s hand.

At that moment, everyone understood—

The Capital had changed hands.

The whole world had changed.

•

In the meantime, Wen Ren was leaving the capital overnight under the escort of Wen Ren Xiao and Wen Ren Yao. Instead of returning to the Wen Ren family, they headed to Echeng County, where the Yun Yan Sect and Wu Ji Pavilion had taken temporary refuge. Too conspicuous to fly, they traveled by carriage, enduring a bumpy journey that took several days.

Upon arriving in Echeng County, they headed straight to an abandoned mansion in the northeast. Two guards, seeing them alight from the carriage, quickly greeted them. Wen Ren Yao handed over a token, which the guards examined before nodding to each other and allowing them inside.

Although the mansion looked desolate from outside, inside, it was entirely different, thanks to a barrier.

Wen Ren, having suffered a severe backlash of spiritual energy, was weak and barely able to walk even with the support of Wen Ren Xiao and Wen Ren Yao. After a few steps, he tasted blood in his mouth, his brow furrowing in pain.

Wen Ren Xiao, alarmed, cried out, “Father!”

Before Wen Ren could respond, he spat out a mouthful of blood. Blood splattered on the ground, and everyone, including Wen Ren Yao, went pale with fear and concern.

“We should rest first,” Wen Ren Yao suggested. “Father’s condition is worsening. I think we should find a healer for him immediately.”

But Wen Ren shook his head lightly. “I must see them first.”

Wen Ren Xiao and Wen Ren Yao exchanged glances, disagreeing yet unwilling to argue.

Led by the guards, they soon arrived outside a room where four or five people sat, all deep in thought, likely pondering the same issue.

Seeing Wen Ren supported by his children, they looked at him in surprise.

“Wen Ren Family Master, what happened to you?” Ni Shu asked, rising to her feet.

Wen Ren waved her concern aside, struggled to a chair, and dove straight into business. “The Capital has fallen. The surrounding towns will likely fall soon. With HuLü Xing dead and HuLü Lan mad, and Situ and Mi families uncommitted, what are your plans?”

Ni Shu slowly returned to her seat, her tone somber. “Mi He Feng and Gu Qiu wavered in their stance. But what about the Situ family? Do they plan to stand by as HuLü Yan devours the righteous sects?”

Wen Ren Yao spoke up, “Perhaps you haven’t heard—Situ Gao Yang’s long-lost younger brother is now in HuLü Yan’s hands.”

“What?” Ni Shu gasped.

Chen Chen, the Pavilion Master of Wu Ji Pavilion, frowned. “I understood that Situ’s younger son disappeared during training years ago. How could he have fallen into HuLü Yan’s hands?”

“It’s all Ming De Yi’s doing,” Wen Ren Xiao sneered. “Ming De Yi coveted their bloodline, kidnapped them, and intended to turn them into corpse puppets. In the end, he handed HuLü Yan a favor for the Situ family.”

Chen Chen cursed in frustration, “That man brings trouble even after death.”

Wen Ren’s gaze scanned the room, realizing someone was missing. “Where are the others?”

When Ni Shu and Chen Chen fell silent, Wen Ren’s irritation flared. “Where are the others?!”

“Where else? They didn’t come,” Ni Shu replied sharply.

Wen Ren struggled to contain his fury, each breath igniting his anger further. “Tai Sheng Sect?”

“They didn’t come.”

“Beast Taming Sect?”

“Didn’t come.”

“…and what about the Si Fang Sect and Xing Tian Sect?” His fingers clenched into the armrest, his arm trembling.

Ni Shu, after a long silence, replied, “If they intended to act, they’d have done so by now.”

“Damn it!” Wen Ren finally exploded, sweeping a teapot and teacups to the floor. “They’re all useless!”

Ni Wen Hui, who had been silent, flinched at the crash.

Ni Shu, noticing, patted Ni Wen Hui’s hand to calm her.

“Mother…” Ni Wen Hui whispered, “I need some air.”

Ni Shu nodded. “Don’t go far. Take someone with you.”

Outside, Ni Wen Hui joined Jing Tao and Yu Ying, who immediately asked about the situation inside. “How’s it going?”

Ni Wen Hui, unable to describe the scene, finally sighed, “I want to go to the Capital.”

Both Jing Tao and Yu Ying stared at her in shock, almost thinking she was joking.

“Why go there?” Jing Tao asked, concerned. “HuLü Yan seized the Capital ten days ago. Going there is suicide.”

Eyes downcast, Ni Wen Hui replied, “Since he’s conquered the Capital, it’s only a matter of time before he comes here. Better to find out what we’re up against than wait for death.”

Caught off guard, Jing Tao fell silent. Yu Ying, however, asked bluntly, “Wen Hui, do you still care for HuLü Yan?”

Ever since learning that HuLü Yan had saved her, Ni Wen Hui’s stance had become ambiguous. While everyone else feared and hated HuLü Yan, she stayed quiet whenever his name was mentioned, never joining in on the hostility.

Hearing Yu Ying’s question, Ni Wen Hui froze, her face turning unreadable.

“I… There are things I haven’t told you,” she murmured, avoiding Yu Ying’s gaze. “But I swear it’s not for HuLü Yan’s sake. When the time is right, you’ll understand.”

After bidding them farewell, Ni Wen Hui returned to her room alone to pack.

Just as she finished, she sensed someone entering quietly and reflexively drew her sword—only to see it was Yu Ying, who seemed dazed as if possessed.

Ni Wen Hui put her sword away, a hint of wariness in her eyes as she regarded Yu Ying. “You’re here.”