The crimson banner flew in a frenzy, a single point of blood-red hue ascending before a tide of gore surged forth like a furious tempest.

A killing aura swept through the air like a gale, sharp as a blade poised to sever a head.

Contained within were centuries of the Xi family’s loyalty, valor, ferocity, and renown.

Perhaps, only in this banner could it now be witnessed.

In Qingyang Town, the onlookers instinctively recoiled, save for Jiang Wang, who stood unmoving like a reef amidst the roiling waves.

The blood sea surged and roared. Xi Zichu stepped upon the cresting waves, his right hand forming a sword-finger pointed forward. A silver needle sliced through the wind, transforming mid-flight into a thousand silver lights. These converged into a miniature silver dragon that lunged towards Jiang Wang.

And then, silently, flowers bloomed.

Some red, surpassing fire; some green, like emerald. A riot of five colors and ten hues, vying in bizarre beauty.

Within the roaring blood sea, a silent sea of blossoms unfolded.

Silence countered a thousand roars.

The miniature silver dragon, having just launched itself, stirred a flurry of petals before…

*Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!*

Successive explosions erupted.

The miniature silver dragon, struggling and shrieking as if alive, finally retreated amidst the chain of fiery blossoms. It reverted to a silver needle and plummeted to the ground.

Today’s sea of flowers had become a sea of fireworks. The illusory and the real intertwined, possessing inherent power. It was incomparable to before.

Only a short time had passed, yet Xi Zichu had indeed prepared thoroughly, giving his all. But Jiang Wang, compared to when he slew Xi Munan, had already advanced another level.

This was precisely Jiang Wang’s initial confidence in not killing Xi Zichu on the spot; he was certain that no matter how swift Xi Zichu’s progress, his own would be swifter.

The East King Valley was renowned for a reason, and Xi Zichu was no mediocre talent.

The silver needle, the miniature silver dragon’s transformed state, fell to the earth, then suddenly ignited once more. It became silver threads of light, weaving through the flowers.

The famed East King Twelve Needles; Xi Zichu had already mastered the Needle of Breaking Patterns, the Needle of Breaking Formations, and the Needle of Suspended Life.

The Needle of Breaking Patterns targeted array patterns and array disks, while the Needle of Breaking Formations was directed at battle arrays and formations.

This silver dragon was precisely the Needle of Breaking Formations.

The sea of fireworks, as a wide-area Dao technique, wasn’t a formation, but it shared similarities.

The Needle of Breaking Formations, passing through the blossoms, temporarily stabilized the positions within the fireworks sea, allowing Xi Zichu to ascertain his direction.

Simultaneously, he formed Dao seals, a green bead held within his mouth.

The illusionary effect of the flower sea stemmed from subtle toxins.

Xi Zichu, hailing from East King Valley, naturally harbored no fear and easily dissolved the toxic illusion.

The sublimated sea of fireworks, with its intertwining of the real and the illusory, was not something that could be completely dispelled by merely breaking the illusionary effect.

But it was no longer sufficient to impede Xi Zichu’s movements.

Freed from positional confusion and the disturbance of illusory flowers, he surged forward. With a flick of his fingers, silver light abruptly flashed, and it was already the Needle of Suspended Life!

The Needle of Suspended Life was the most perilous among the East King Twelve Needles.

No sooner had the needle been unleashed than it pierced Jiang Wang’s throat.

Before Xi Zichu’s eyes, Jiang Wang’s entire being shattered.

Xi Zichu recoiled in horror. This scene reminded him of Hu Shaomeng. It was precisely an illusion employed by Hu Shaomeng that had kept him in Jiacheng, preventing him from participating in the contention for Tianqing Yunyang.

Where was the person?

He thought urgently, but it was already too late.

Behind him, within a fireworks display on the verge of blooming, concealed within lay a delicate miniature mirror.

Jiang Wang then leapt forth from this mirror. The thorn crown atop his head flashed momentarily, overlapping and activating Bind Tiger!

Xi Zichu’s figure instantly froze in mid-air.

And Jiang Wang, moving from behind to front, pressed close to his back, a single sword piercing his heart.

The blood sea receded, the fireworks withered.

This scene was then clearly reflected in the eyes of the onlookers.

The five lights and ten colors finally dissipated like smoke.

In his final moments, Xi Zichu unexpectedly did not turn back.

He gazed straight ahead at Qingyang Town, a momentary blankness crossing his features.

Those people watching the battle, all of them struck him as strangers.

This small town before him, appearing particularly desolate due to the plague, was also not one he was intimately familiar with.

Since the Chongxuan family demarcated the mineral vein, this small town had always been the territory of Hu Shaomeng and his father.

No matter how unwilling the Xi family was, they could only pinch their noses and agree.

But in Xi Zichu’s heart, this had always been the Xi family’s small town. It had never changed hands; the revolving occupants were merely passers-by.

Each time he passed by without entering, what thoughts resided within his heart?

Dugu Xiaoyuan watched from afar the dying eyes of the Xi family’s young master. Unexpectedly, she saw no trace of his pain, but rather a wisp of indelible attachment.

The long sword retracted and returned to its sheath. The corpse plummeted to the ground.

Jiang Wang reached out, retrieved the Crimson Banner of Striated Might, rolled it up, and placed it in his storage box before walking towards the town.

He merely offered a casual instruction: “Bury him properly.”

Aside from this Crimson Banner of Striated Might, Xi Zichu had arrived almost alone.

The fight with Xi Zichu held virtually no suspense. Jiang Wang was merely testing the battlefield utility of the Vermilion Mirror. Otherwise, the battle could have concluded even faster. Compared to Xi Munan, Xi Zichu was weaker by more than a single level. With one in decline and the other in ascent, there was no reason for defeat.

Not only did Jiang Wang understand this, but Xi Zichu also would not have failed to grasp it.

Yet, he still came. And he came alone, bringing no experts from the Xi family.

In truth, his arrival this time was to seek death.

The enmity of a father’s death was irreconcilable.

His all-out struggle merely fulfilled a single obsession.

Victory would resolve the enmity, defeat would scatter his soul.

But regardless of victory or defeat, there was no path to survival.

For this plague, which had afflicted the entire nation, both the Imperial Court of Yang and the people of Yang required an accounting.

A single Xi Munan was clearly insufficient.

It was necessary to sever the future lineage of the Xi family at the source of the plague, to see their enterprise collapse, their genius perish, before it could be considered barely adequate.

If Xi Zichu did not die, the people of the Xi family could not safely leave the borders of Yang.

This person, through the act of resisting the plague and the sacrifice of his own life, sought a path for the Xi family. To atone for the transgressions committed by Xi Munan.

Only, before the Imperial Court of Yang judged him, he had first judged himself.

Once, there were fragrant carriages and beautiful women, fresh flowers and potent wine.

He had enjoyed all the family’s glory, and for his entire life, he had been bound by the family.

He made choices between being a medical Dao cultivator and the family, between hatred and the family… between himself and the family, and he made the same choice.

This was perhaps sorrowful, or perhaps honorable, but in truth, it was not so important.

Choosing to die on the path of vengeance for a blood relative was likely the only shred of self-respect he could retain.

For Jiang Wang, he had given Xi Zichu ample time to arrange the family’s retreat, in exchange for Xi Zichu’s full cooperation in resisting the Jiacheng plague. There was no debt owed, the two were unrelated.

He respected Xi Zichu’s sacrifice for his family. But that was all.

When it came to killing, he would still show no mercy.

Xi Zichu was already cast aside in his thoughts, just as after the conclusion of every previous battle, he was silently reviewing the entire process.

He sought out the mistakes he had made, to ensure they were not repeated. He explored areas for improvement, to make the next battle easier.

Borrowing the cover of the sea of fireworks to activate the realistic illusion was not entirely practical. The main issue lay in the safety of hiding within the mirror world of the Vermilion Mirror. Because activating the illusion required being within the Vermilion Mirror’s mirror world, and the safety of the Vermilion Mirror itself was not guaranteed.

He had sufficient confidence to defeat Xi Zichu, which was why he dared to hide within the mirror world and place the Vermilion Mirror within the fireworks.

If it had been a stronger opponent, one capable of instantly discovering and shattering the Vermilion Mirror, he would have been in grave danger.

When the effects of the Vermilion Mirror could be utilized without entering the mirror world, that would represent a substantial improvement in his frontal combat power. As it stood, the Vermilion Mirror was still primarily an auxiliary tool.

Jiang Wang had just returned to his room, about to resume his interrupted cultivation, when he was once again disturbed.

It was Xiao Xiao who ran over, panting: “Master, I don’t know why, but the people from the Four Seas Merchant Alliance suddenly want to flee. They didn’t bring anything, as if they’re escaping disaster!”