Starting as The Young Master of A Pharmacy, He Trained Swordsmanship in Seclusion For Twenty Years - Chapter 67

Before an exquisite dressing table carved from fine pearwood sat a graceful, alluring figure.

The woman wore a sheer pink gown, her jet-black hair cascading over snow-white shoulders. Her hands, smooth as polished jade, moved between her face and the dressing table as if she were applying makeup.

Suddenly, the room’s door was violently thrown open from the outside.

Standing in the doorway was a burly man draped in a luxurious yellow mink coat. This was none other than the master of the estate—the leader of the Black Tiger Gang, a martial artist who had reached the pinnacle of Bone-Forging Realm.

At this moment, the gang leader’s face was flushed, his steps unsteady from intoxication. As soon as he entered, he took a deep breath of the fragrant air and strode straight toward the figure at the dressing table.

“Heh heh!”

“My dear, your lord has returned. Come, let me show you some affection.”

“You truly live up to your reputation as the Flower Queen of the Fragrant Moon Pavilion. These past few days, you’ve bewitched me utterly.”

“As soon as I finished my business, I rushed back—all because I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

The closer he got to the figure at the dressing table, the stronger his lust grew.

This beauty, who had consumed his thoughts day and night, had been forcibly taken from the Fragrant Moon Pavilion the week before.

“Selling art, not your body?”

What a load of nonsense!

To him, such words were meaningless. So without hesitation, he had taken the woman, leaving behind a few thousand taels of silver for the brothel.

Why? Because he was not just the leader of the Black Tiger Gang—he was also a cousin of the magistrate of Dengfeng County.

Even the hidden master behind the Fragrant Moon Pavilion had no choice but to swallow their anger, accept the silver, and let him have his way.

Soon, the gang leader reached out with a rough hand, gripping the woman’s delicate, snow-white shoulder.

The moment he felt the softness beneath his fingers, his breathing grew ragged, hot air puffing from his lips.

“My beauty, why so quiet today?”

“Are you still upset about last night?”

Suddenly, an eerie chill seeped into his palm, cutting through his drunken haze.

“Hmm? So cold… Did you catch a chill?”

Just as confusion set in, the figure slowly turned to face him.

“You—!”

The moment he saw her face, his mind went blank. A primal terror surged through his body.

That enchanting, curvaceous figure… had the face of a man—a bearded, middle-aged man.

And it was a face he knew all too well.

Liu Yuanwai.

A man who had died days ago.

Worse still, Liu’s face bore a sinister, unnatural smile.

“What the hell—?!”

“A g-ghost…!”

All traces of drunkenness vanished. Fear crashed over him like a tidal wave, making the world seem as if it were collapsing around him.

But then he realized—he couldn’t move.

His body was frozen in place.

All he could do was watch as Liu’s face drew closer, filling his vision.

…..

“Lao Zhao, the Yin energy is coming from over there!”

Three figures emerged from the darkness, sensing something amiss, and dashed toward a specific location.

These were Zhao Sheng and his companions. They had stayed up late, staking out the homes of previous victims, waiting for the Faceless Specter to appear.

And the direction they were heading?

Straight toward the estate of the Black Tiger Gang’s leader.

The three sprinted through the streets, arriving at the gang leader’s mansion in less than fifteen minutes. Without hesitation, they smashed through the front gate.

The sturdy doors flew open like paper, revealing the scene inside.

“Damn it—we’re too late!”

Bodies littered the ground, motionless as corpses.

But what sent chills down their spines was their faces—stripped of skin, leaving only raw, bloody flesh, each one grinning grotesquely at the sky.

“Lao Zhao, look!”

Zhao Sheng’s gaze snapped toward the depths of the estate.

A figure stood there.

And when Zhao Sheng saw its face, his stomach twisted in revulsion.

A burly, dark-skinned man… with the delicate, beautiful face of a woman.

And that face was smiling.

Gritting his teeth, Zhao Sheng barked to his companions:

“After it! Don’t let it escape!”

The moment the words left his lips, all three erupted with their full aura, steam rising from their bodies like pillars into the night sky.

The instant this overwhelming blood energy erupted, the motionless figure twitched—its smile widening unnaturally.

“Hmph!”

Zhao Sheng charged forward, a broadsword in hand.

The blade, infused with his surging energy, came down in a vertical slash—aimed to split the specter in two.

And split it did.

The monstrous figure was cleaved apart, Zhao Sheng’s energy searing into its flesh.

Sizzle—!

The two halves writhed on the ground, white smoke rising as if burned by an invisible fire.

Then—slash! slash!—two more strikes landed, courtesy of Qian Hao and Li Daren.

“Is it dead?”

Zhao Sheng tightened his grip on his sword, staring at the mutilated remains.

But then—

All three men sensed something.

They whirled around.

The corpses that had been lying on the ground…

Were now standing.

Their faceless heads now bore ghastly, grinning mouths.

And behind them—

A blurry figure in white robes.

No face.

Just a curved, horrifying smile.

Then, in the next instant—

The specter dissolved into a streak of white light, fleeing into the distance.

“Lao Zhao, go!”

“The Faceless Specter is trying to escape—don’t let it get away!”

“We’ll handle these things!”

Without hesitation, Zhao Sheng leaped onto the rooftops, giving chase.

…..

“Hmm?”

“Such intense blood energy!”

“A Blood-Forging Realm martial artist!”

Lu Xuan’s eyes snapped open.

He had sensed it—a martial artist at the Blood-Forging Realm had just passed over the Shen Estate.

And this warrior was unleashing their full power, making no attempt to conceal their presence.

In an instant, Lu Xuan was at his door.

He flung it open and vaulted into the night, pursuing the mysterious figure.