Spoiled Eldest Miss x Two-faced Madman

CHAPTER 51: The Demonic Sect Leader’s Demon Mask

　　“We both got picked!” Lin Qingyan exclaimed excitedly to Pei Ji. “Pei Ji, are you going to increase your offer?”

　　Before he could answer, she lowered her voice and added, “I’ve been gathering information these past few days—word is that the Emei Sect submitted a type of inner energy cultivation technique. It overlaps a bit with the effects of your medicinal pills. I don’t know if Uncle Jin will pick just one of the two.”

　　“Let’s wait and see how the Emei Sect responds,” Pei Ji replied calmly.

　　Even at such a tense moment, he remained completely composed, drawing glances from those around him.

　　For instance, not far from them at the Emei Sect’s table, Yu Hongyi noticed the serene expression of the white-robed young man and her face darkened slightly.

　　She turned to the senior martial aunt beside her and whispered, “Martial Aunt, I’ve confirmed it—Divine Doctor Pei submitted a miracle medicine that can eliminate chronic and stubborn illnesses. It’s similar in effect to the internal technique we provided. But ours requires cultivation, while his pills cure immediately. We may need to raise our offer.”

　　That martial aunt, a middle-aged woman in the blue-and-white Emei uniform, responded seriously, “Let’s go with your suggestion. The young master of Medicine King Valley truly has inherited the skills of the former Medicine King. Our inner technique indeed pales in comparison.”

　　Similar conversations were happening all around the hall.

　　As for those who weren’t selected, while they felt some disappointment, they quickly moved on—many now focusing their attention on the mysterious ‘Young Master Ming.’

　　“Who is that Young Master Ming anyway? Does anyone know him?”

　　“I do, I do! Word is he’s a wealthy young master from the capital. When he arrived, he moved in more than a dozen large trunks. The villa’s servants said each trunk was so heavy it took two or three martial artists to lift one. They were exhausted that day!”

　　“Could it be that Young Master Ming is trading gold and silver treasures?” someone guessed with sudden realization.

　　Hearing this, the crowd gasped in shock.

　　Someone clicked their tongue. “Damn, how much money would that be?”

　　Another chimed in, “A supreme martial art is worth a fortune—maybe he really did bring treasures enough to buy a whole city.”

　　These were just side conversations. Soon, among the nine selected factions, five chose to increase their stakes.

　　The smile on Jin You’s face deepened. He glanced at the five submitted slips of paper, weighed them briefly, then looked up at the eager crowd and said, “Very well, I have made my decision. However, before I announce the results, I have one final, rather impolite request. You may choose whether to accept it or not. If you decline, I will alter the selection.”

　　This constant shifting of rules frustrated many, but having come this far, no one wanted their efforts to be in vain—they had no choice but to endure.

　　The Emei Sect’s martial aunt frowned and whispered to Yu Hongyi, “This Jin You is so crafty—I wonder what trick he’s playing now.”

　　The Huashan Sect’s Bishui Sword Master spoke up directly, “Brother Jin, go ahead and say it.”

　　Jin You didn’t beat around the bush. “Whichever party obtains the secret manual must agree to protect Jinshe Villa for the next ten years. Should the villa face any threat, you must come to its aid. Can you accept this condition?”

　　This wasn’t an unreasonable request. Compared to a supreme martial art, it was a small price to pay.

　　Upon hearing it, the major sect representatives quickly voiced their agreement.

　　Jin You smiled. “Since everyone agrees, I’m at ease. The five I’ve chosen are: Huashan Sect, Emei Sect, Medicine King Valley, Jiangyue Island, and Young Master Ming. Congratulations to you all.”

　　As his voice fell, reactions swept through the hall—some surprised, some delighted, and others simply understanding.

　　Surprisingly, it was Ming Yi who was caught off guard—he had assumed he was just along for the ride and never expected to actually secure a spot.

　　Jiangyue Island, on the other hand, was delighted. The island was far from the Central Plains and usually stayed out of major affairs. This time, they had only joined in for experience and exposure, never imagining that luck would strike and grant them selection.

　　As for Huashan Sect and Pei Ji, they were the ones who weren’t surprised at all.

　　The main hall buzzed with excitement—some were congratulating the selected factions, others were gossiping, and many were speculating on what treasures had been offered by each sect.

　　Jin You gathered his inner strength into his voice so that it echoed throughout the hall. “Everyone, please quiet down. I will now open the chest. You may then decide the order in which you wish to transcribe the manual.”

　　“With all of you here as witnesses, I, Jin You, vow not to resort to deception or tarnish the reputation of Jinshe Villa. Once each of the five parties has taken their turn copying the manual, they are free to leave the villa. As for those who were not selected, you may now take your leave.”

　　The room gradually quieted. No one wanted to leave just yet; all eyes were fixed on the five lucky factions chosen to receive the manual.

　　Yu Hongyi of Emei Sect spoke up first. “Why not let the Huashan Sect go first? They are the foremost sect in the jianghu and should take precedence.”

　　Bishui Sword Master declined politely. “Huashan is quite close to Jinshe Villa—we’re not in a hurry. Please, the others may go ahead.”

　　As for the two lucky winners, Pei Ji and Ming Yi, neither was in a rush. They simply sat back and watched the show.

　　Just then, the Island Lord of Jiangyue Island stood up and said with a smile, “Since Jiangyue Island is far away, I’d like to shamelessly go first to avoid any mishaps on the journey back.”

　　No one objected. The Island Lord walked forward and sat at the small table in the center.

　　Jin You said, “Please wait a moment, Island Lord.”

　　As he spoke, he reached to his waist, pulled out a bronze key, and unlocked the rosewood chest.

　　Countless eyes watched as Jin You reached inside, then gently lifted out an ancient, yellowed book with a weathered cover. Carefully, he placed it on a brocade-covered tray beside him, treating it as a treasure beyond compare.

　　“This is it. Island Lord, please handle it with care and transcribe it diligently.”

　　Jin You placed the tray in front of the Jiangyue Island Lord, smiling as he returned to his seat. He picked up a teacup and took a slow, measured sip.

　　The Island Lord nervously wiped his hands on his robe before daring to touch the ancient book.

　　At that moment, no one noticed the increasingly stiff smile on the face of a certain handsome young man dressed in white—

　　Except An Jiu.

　　She glanced at him and tried hard to suppress the grin tugging at her lips.

　　Did he really think he could stay composed the whole way through?

　　An Jiu knew there had been an information gap between her and Pei Ji. He had no way of knowing that Jin Yanwan had returned the original manual, which was why he was now caught completely off guard.

　　She had to admit, watching the big villain stumble like this was quite satisfying.

　　Villainous madmen might seem thrilling when you’re just reading a book—but after truly entering this world and interacting with the people in it, An Jiu realized she couldn’t stay indifferent.

　　She couldn’t stand by and watch him hurt others, couldn’t just watch the supporting characters fall into tragic fates, and definitely couldn’t remain entirely detached.

　　Even though she always claimed to be a self-serving pragmatist, if someone were to die right in front of her—and all it took was her outstretched hand to save them—could she really stay unmoved?

　　After all, she was a child of a peaceful, civilized society. She didn’t belong to this world.

　　Pei Ji clearly didn’t need the manual, yet still chose to steal it instead of leaving it for someone who did.

　　He clearly knew what the future held, yet let it unfold all the same—and even worked in the shadows to push it along.

　　This alone spoke volumes about how cold and indifferent he truly was.

　　Whenever An Jiu thought about it, a chill crept up her spine, so much so that she didn’t dare dwell on it for long.

　　While she was lost in thought, the Jiangyue Island Lord had already turned to the first page of the book with great care.

　　“Such a grand event—how could I possibly not come see it for myself?”

　　Right then, a sudden male voice rang out from beyond the door, like a thunderclap on a clear day, booming through the hall.

　　The voice was laced with powerful inner strength. An Jiu felt like her eardrums had been struck with something heavy, the impact leaving a sharp ringing in her ears.

　　Her body swayed, and she had to brace herself on the table to keep from stumbling.

　　In the next moment, a pair of warm, large hands gently covered her ears, cutting off all sound from the outside world.

　　Everyone seated in the grand hall were well-known figures of the martial world, and their reactions were nothing short of swift.

　　In that brief span of time, many had already assumed defensive stances, eyes locked on the entrance.

　　A man was striding through the doorway, clad in a dark red robe. The cut of his clothing was unlike that of the Central Plains—its style carried a distinct flair of the Western Regions.

　　The man laughed loudly and said, “What’s this? The moment I arrive, you all draw your swords? Am I not welcome here?”

　　As he came closer, the crowd could finally see that he wore a black mask—carved in the likeness of a fanged demon, fierce and grotesque.

　　“The Demon Mask! He’s the leader of the Demonic Sect!” someone cried out in alarm.

　　Gasps rippled through the crowd. It was well known that the Demonic Sect had long been the sworn enemy of the Central Plains martial sects. Their conflict had spanned generations.

　　Though the righteous sects had launched numerous crusades against the sect, its headquarters lay far in the Western Regions. After each defeat, they would simply lay low, recuperate, and eventually rise again—like wildfires that never die, only wait to be reignited.

　　The sect rarely ventured into the heart of the Central Plains, but every time they did, the result was always the same: bloodshed, destruction, and public outrage.

　　Every martial artist lived by the creed of eradicating evil and defending the righteous.

　　And the people of the Demonic Sect? They were enemies to all—anyone could and should kill them.

　　At once, someone shouted, “That devil dares show up today? With so many martial heroes gathered here, isn’t he walking straight into a trap?”

　　His words sparked immediate agreement.

　　“Exactly! The major sects of the martial world are all present—we needn’t fear one mere Demonic Sect Leader!”

　　“That Demon Mask looks rather young… I recall the previous one was already middle-aged. This must be the newly appointed sect leader—he’s likely chosen us as his first big target to establish his authority. We absolutely can’t let him succeed!”

　　The Demonic Sect had a well-known tradition: every new leader had to perform some grand act of terror to prove their strength and suppress any opposition within the sect. It was their twisted version of a debut performance.

　　Only, instead of stepping onto a stage to perform—they made their debut by killing.

　　The last Demon Mask’s first act upon taking power had been the massacre of a mid-sized martial sect. The bloodbath had cemented his name in the Jianghu.

　　And judging from today’s events, it seemed the new Demon Mask had chosen Jinshe Villa as his target.

　　Their discussions were brief. Before the words had even fully faded, a loud, unrestrained laugh echoed from behind the fearsome mask.

　　“Very good, very good—such bravery, how admirable! Come then! Come and kill me. I’d love to see who among you can actually do it!”

　　Behind the demon mask, the man’s lips curled into a sharp grin. His long, narrow eyes glittered with excitement.

　　His hand moved. From his sleeve slid a silver crescent blade, gripped by pale, bloodless fingers—like he was holding a sliver of the moon itself.

　　With a flick of his lips and a light step, his figure vanished on the spot, like a phantom in the wind. In the blink of an eye, he reappeared before the man who had just said that he had fallen into a trap.

　　The crescent blade carved a perfect arc through the air. Silver light flashed—

　　Crimson blood splattered out as the crescent blade pulled back. Blood droplets trickled down the edge of the blade, then the silver gleam returned, pure and spotless—like dewdrops on a lotus leaf, untouched by any dust.

　　Only after the man retreated did the others notice that the warrior before him was bleeding from his throat, and within a single breath, had already lost his life.

　　The Demon Mask licked the corner of his lips, the corners of his eyes reddened, his interest slightly piqued but still languid as he said, “This won’t do. Put in a little more effort—don’t bore me so quickly.”

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