The Grumpy Daoist's Candied Fox - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

My fox heart clenched.

I hurried to read on.

Eighteenth Sister told me to be extremely careful, saying that the god of slaughter who killed his master had descended the mountain from Kunlun.

Lord Qingyang of Kunlun, a disciple of True Lord Xuanli, Patriarch of the Slaughter Dao.

Before he even came of age, he single-handedly slew the Dongting Evil Flood Dragon, making a name for himself in one battle.

[Lord Qingyang is known as the killing weapon of the Daoist Sect, but because of the great crime of slaying his master, he was condemned by the Daoist Sect.]

[Perhaps valuing his potential, Kunlun went to great lengths to protect him. But to avoid the limelight, this god of slaughter left Kunlun a year ago to undergo training in the Mortal Realm. His current whereabouts are unknown.]

[The god of slaughter uses the alias Xie Ling’en in the Mortal Realm. If you encounter him, do not get entangled. Flee immediately.]

The words “flee immediately” were written with such force they seemed to pierce the paper, making one’s heart flutter with unease.

However.

I wasn’t that worried.

I serenely closed my eyes.

After all, the three characters “Xie Ling’en” just before were even more frightening, ha.

Chapter 5: Operating on the principle that “such rotten luck couldn’t possibly befall me,” I took advantage of Xie Ling’en’s absence to slip into his room with practiced ease.

Xie Ling’en was a cautious man and always locked his door when he went out. We each had a key. Cautious, but he forgot that it’s hard to guard against a thief within.

I started rummaging through his belongings for evidence.

His things weren’t many; the cabinet was practically empty, seemingly hiding no secrets.

The only thing that looked somewhat suspicious was an exquisitely carved red sandalwood box.

He had hidden it tightly beneath his clothes, practically flaunting its importance.

I pulled it out and picked the lock.

When I opened the box, it didn’t contain any Daoist Sect treasures or the Yao Race hearts I had imagined.

Inside the beautiful sandalwood box were just three very ugly embroidered pouches.

They were uniformly ugly, obviously made by the same hand.

Hmm, their ugly Fourth Sister was now in my arms.

I snapped the lid shut.

After thinking for three seconds.

“Damn, I get it.”

He disliked the ugly pouches I had embroidered, so he buried them here where no light could reach, out of sight and out of mind.

Annoyed, I shoved the box back into place.

But as I did so, my hand accidentally caught on a small brocade bag.

It looked completely ordinary.

Without much hope, I casually untied it.

Inside, there was nothing of value, no talismans or magical tools that Daoist Priests commonly use.

There was only a small token.

I picked it up and glanced at it casually.

The front of the token had only two words: Kunlun.

Oh, a Disciple Token of Kunlun.

… My hand trembled.

My earlier wishful thinking shattered bit by bit. Gritting my teeth, I flipped the token over.

The back also had two words.

Qingyang.

It was as if the sky had fallen and the earth had split.

And just as I stood there holding the token, my mind a mess, the door behind me creaked open.

Xie Ling’en, who usually came home after dark, pushed the door open and entered.

“An’an, I…”

When he saw what I was holding, his voice cut off abruptly.

At that moment, Xie Ling’en, his white clothes stained with blood, stood at the door like a god of slaughter.

Sunlight streamed from behind him, and his tall shadow loomed over me like a cage.

“What are you doing?”