This time, since the quality of the talismans was lower, Mo Yichen decided to go all out. He used twenty blank talisman papers in one go, and thanks to the simpler techniques required for low and mid-grade charms, the process was much faster. In just fifteen minutes, he produced eleven low-grade and nine mid-grade talismans, each adorned with three spirit lines.
After collecting them, Mo Yichen kept two mid-grade and a few low-grade talismans for himself, handing the rest to Yan Yeqing. It wasn't that he underestimated Yan Yeqing's abilities—after all, the man had demonstrated incredible swordsmanship without even having a spiritual root. No, Mo Yichen just wanted to give Yan Yeqing an extra layer of protection. For his own convenience, of course.
Yan Yeqing, however, seemed to see right through him. He let out a hearty chuckle, his eyes glinting with amusement as he accepted the talismans. Mo Yichen's cheeks flushed slightly, but he quickly brushed it off.
But before he could start another round of talisman crafting, a loud commotion erupted outside the camp. Shouts and the clashing of weapons filled the air, interrupting the relative peace. Mo Yichen and Yan Yeqing exchanged a glance, their expressions shifting from confusion to alertness.
Mo Yichen raised his brow standing up and following Yan Yeqing who already headed to the exit. As they stepped outside, the scene that greeted them was truly chaotic. A young man in a green robe was shouting at a group of cultivators, his voice strained with anger and desperation. He was supporting two injured cultivators, a young man, and a woman, both around seventeen years old, who were kneeling on the ground, clearly in pain, blood trailing down from the corner of their mouth.
"Duan Ming! Do you really think I won't report this to the Discipline Hall!?" Jing Yu shouted, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
Duan Ming, the arrogant young master standing at the forefront of his group of lackeys, sneered. His lips curled into a mocking grin as he threw his head back in laughter. The cultivators behind him snickered like hyenas, their eyes glinting with malice.
"Hahahaha! Are you kidding me?" Duan Ming barked, his voice dripping with mockery. "You think you can do anything to the only heir of Duan family? Who do you think you are, you pathetic worm?"
A weasel-faced cultivator beside him pointed his sword at Jing Yu and the injured disciples, laughing obnoxiously. "Look at these losers! They can't even stand properly, and they're talking about reporting us to the Discipline Hall! What a joke!"
Jing Yu's chest heaved with rage, but it wasn't just about the humiliation. These bastards had been tormenting the members of the pharmacist valley for months, stealing their hard-earned resources—medicine elixirs, and spirit stones provided by Yongtian Peak to help disciples cultivate. Every time they received their share, Duan Ming and his gang would swoop in like vultures, taking what they wanted and leaving the rest to suffer.
Today, they had gone too far. They even harassed junior disciples and exported all the protection charms and spiritual weapons from them.
"Duan Ming!" Jing Yu roared, his voice cutting through their laughter. "You're nothing but a shameless thief! If you have any honor left in that rotten heart of yours, fight me one-on-one!"
The crowd erupted into laughter again, louder this time. Duan Ming shook his head, his eyes filled with disdain as if Jing Yu were nothing more than a bug beneath his boot.
"Fight you? Hah!" Duan Ming sneered, his voice laced with mockery. "With that flimsy body of yours? Why should I dirty my hands with trash like you? If you really want to fight, why don't you—ack"
Before he could finish his sentence, something sharp and fast struck his face. A faint whoosh echoed through the air, followed by a sickening thud. Duan Ming staggered back, plopping on his butt, his hand flying to his cheek as a deep gash appeared, blood trickling down his face.
"Ahh!" he cried out, his voice a mix of shock and pain. His lackeys froze, their laughter dying in their throats as they stared at their leader in alertness.
All eyes turned to the source of the attack. Emerging from the shadows were two figures, walking leisurely toward the scene as if they were out for a stroll. One was a young man in a simple black robe, his face serene and his fingers casually flipping a gold coin. The other was a tall, imposing figure in light blue robes, his cold gaze sending chills down everyone's spines.
Mo Yichen and Yan Yeqing had arrived.
Mo Yichen tilted his head, his voice calm but carrying an edge of menace. "Did I interrupt something? My apologies. I just couldn't stand the sound of your voice anymore."
Duan Ming's fingers tremble on his face, his expression twisting into one of fury. "Who the hell are you!?" he spat, his voice trembling with rage.
Mo Yichen shrugged, his tone light as if looking at an insect "Just a passerby"
"Brother Mo! You are here!" Jing Yu cries out. Mo Yichen nods before asking "When will the entrance appear?"
Jing Yu hurriedly walks towards him, "We still have two hours to wait!" Duan Ming, who was still crouching on his butt flew into rage, "You bastard! How dare you ignore this young master's words?!"
Mo Yichen gives him a light look, unbothered, "Do we know them?" he asks to Jing Yu, where the latter grits his teeth in contempt, watching the man in purple with eyes brimming with anger, "He is just a thief!! All he knows is how to bully the weak!"
"You-ahhh what is happening!?" Duan Ming cries out, his whole being trembling.
"Oh my god! Young master Duan your face!!"
"What is happening!?"
"When did this happen?"
All types of cries filled the air, and what people saw horrified them to the core. One side of Duan Ming's face was covered with huge puss-like pimples, giving off a gruesome look. Immediately all of his lackeys walked back cautiously watching as Duan Ming cried in pain and confusion.
Watching the ugly face, Jing Yu's eyes widens in shock. He immediately turns to the youth in black before whispering in low voice, "Brother Mo when did you do it??" In response the youth just shrugged, a faint smile forming on him lips.
'If people were to find out this easily, wouldn't my attacks be futile?' Mo Yichen thought to himself.
The weasel-faced cultivator stepped forward, his sword trembling in his hand. "Y-you bastard! You think you can just attack Young Master Duan and get away with it!?" he stammered, though his voice lacked conviction. "Give us the antidote this instant!"
Yan Yeqing, standing beside the youth, remained silent, but his presence alone was enough to make the group of cultivators tense. His cold, piercing gaze swept over the weasel-faced cultivator, and the latter felt a shiver run down his spine.
"You insignificant bastard! How dare you-" Duan Ming stood up in an instant, rage and fury blinding him, his gaze swept over the youth in black with killing intent.
"I want you all dead!" He shouts lunging forward, the purple flame materializing in his palm. He was about to attack-
"Stop!" a voice cut through the air, a scholarly man steps up from in between the crowd.
"Cousin Brother!" Duan Ming exclaimed, his voice a mix of relief and indignation as he watched the man step forward. The newcomer, Duan Xi, was dressed in scholarly robes, his demeanor calm and composed, a stark contrast to Duan Ming's brash arrogance.
But what happened next left everyone stunned.
Instead of confronting Mo Yichen and Yan Yeqing, Duan Xi greeted them with a slight bow, his hands clasped respectfully. "This Duan Xi asks the young masters to kindly forgive my cousin brother for his… misunderstandings," he said, his voice smooth and diplomatic.
Duan Ming's face twisted in disbelief, his already ugly expression turning even uglier. "Cousin! What are you doing!?" he hissed, his voice a mix of anger and confusion.
Mo Yichen frowned slightly but remained silent, his sharp eyes studying Duan Xi with suspicion. He had always been wary of sketchy people, and the man in front of him reeked of hidden agendas. The air grew awkward as the tension thickened.
Mo Yichen deliberately turned his face away, his gaze landing on Yan Yeqing. Unexpectedly, the man was already looking at him, their eyes colliding. Yan Yeqing's lips curved into a faint, dazzling smile, one that made Mo Yichen's heart skip a beat. He coughed softly, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush, before quickly turning his attention back to Jing Yu.
Yan Yeqing, noticing Mo Yichen's reaction, simply raised an eyebrow, his smile widening ever so slightly.
"Let's rest somewhere first," Mo Yichen said lightly, his words not directed at anyone in particular but clearly heard by those around him.
Duan Xi, however, wasn't ready to let them go. "Wait a moment, young master!" he called out, rushing to block their path.
Jing Yu stepped forward, his voice sharp. "What are you trying to do now!?"
Duan Xi cleared his throat, his tone polite but insistent. "Ahem, I believe there might have been some misunderstandings between us. If this young master could provide us with the antidote for my cousin's condition…"
Mo Yichen crossed his arms over his chest, his expression unimpressed. "And why do you think I would do that? Don't you see your cousin injuring fellow cultivators first?"
Before Duan Xi could respond, one of Duan Ming's lackeys, stepped forward, his voice shrill with anger. "This is nonsense, you bastard! You're the one who poisoned our young master first!"
The next moment, a sharp cry echoed through the air as Duan Xi backhanded the lackey with enough force to send him sprawling to the ground. "You brainless fool! How dare you interfere!?" Duan Xi snapped, his voice cold and commanding. He then turned back to Mo Yichen, his expression shifting back to one of humility. "This young master, please forgive their insolence. If you could provide the antidote, do tell us what you need in return."
Mo Yichen raised an eyebrow, his gaze piercing as he studied Duan Xi's humble demeanor. "Fine," he said after a moment, his voice calm but carrying an edge. "But don't go back on your words."
Duan Xi felt a shiver run down his spine as he noticed the faint smirk forming on Mo Yichen's lips. Something about the youth's expression made him uneasy, but he had no choice. His cousin's life was at stake. Although he couldn't care less, the patriarch especially entrusted Duan Ming's safety to him.
"Your men extorted all the weapons and resources from us," Mo Yichen began, his tone sharp and unyielding. "Not to mention the mental and physical abuse that might have caused lasting trauma to my friends. I won't ask for retribution for what happened in the past, but I want all of your weapons and resources, including five hundred spirit stones."
Duan Ming, who had been fuming silently, finally exploded. "You!! How dare you ask for this much!? Do you think just because my cousin is being humble, you can bully us!?"
Duan Xi shot his cousin a warning glare. "Don't speak anymore, young master," he said through gritted teeth, his smile strained. He turned back to Mo Yichen, his tone still polite but his eyes betraying his frustration. "Very well, young master. We will comply."
Five minutes later, Duan Xi presented a pile of weapons, artifacts, and a pouch containing five hundred spirit stones. The sight was staggering—spirit stones alone were incredibly valuable, with one stone equivalent to one thousand gold taels. This was a fortune by any standard.
Mo Yichen inspected the items with a calm demeanor, though inwardly, he was pleased. He handed over a small vial containing the antidote to Duan Xi, his expression unreadable. "Here. Make sure your cousin learns some manners."
Duan Xi accepted the vial with a stiff nod, his smile tight. "Thank you, young master. We will… take our leave now."
As Duan Xi and his entourage retreated, Jing Yu turned to Mo Yichen, his eyes wide with admiration. "Brother Mo, that was incredible! You just extorted years' worth of savings from them!"
Mo Yichen shrugged, his tone casual. "They had it coming. Besides, it's not extortion if it's compensation for their crimes."