Twilight crept over the peak of Qinglan Mountain, catching the hem of Ye Fan's robe in the mountain breeze and revealing the vibrating Jiuxiao Huanpei at his waist. He looked at the score of dark figures blocking the mountain path, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly. The leader wore a bronze ghost mask and carried a sword sheath wrapped in gold thread—it was none other than the "Iron-masked Man," the most trusted confidant of Zhao Wuji in his past life.
"Hand over what you found in the ancient cave." The Iron-masked Man's voice sounded like a rusted blade scraping across stone, the skin at the corners of his eyes beneath the mask a faint bluish-black from the long-term use of secret elixirs. "Otherwise, the three beauties by your side will leave their blood on these mountain steps today."
Su Qingxue's fingertips brushed lightly against Ye Fan's palm. He looked down to see the corners of her eyes flushed red, yet she smiled with a bewitching allure. "Ye-lang, he is threatening me." But the blood needle hidden in her sleeve had already pierced her fingertip, dark red droplets of blood condensing into a fine needle along a silver thread—the opening stance of Hanmei Pavilion's "Blood Soul Needle."
Chapter 116