Chapter 665

Chapter 665: Ambushed on the Way

"Hehe," Fang Lie sneered upon hearing this, "The big fish took the bait. I knew he couldn’t resist. Let’s give him time to come. Inform him of our departure three days later!"

"Understood!" Mo Lanfan nodded hastily.

"Dismissed. Maintain normal behavior and don’t reveal any flaws," Fang Lie ordered.

"Yes!" Mo Lanfan bowed before retreating.

After his exit, Mo Lanyun awkwardly said to Fang Lie, "We planted one of our clansmen here to assist you, yet he nearly ruined everything. How mortifying!"

Fang Lie had permitted a half-dead Wind Tribulation Immortal to oversee operations purely out of respect for Mo Lanyun’s face.

Though their families could’ve enjoyed lasting cooperation, this incident cast a shadow over their alliance.

Even with the Mo family’s thick skin, they couldn’t send another representative after this failure. By sect rules, bungling Qingyu Island’s supervision meant withdrawal.

Future supervisors from other family clans might lack the Mo family’s tolerance. While supervision authority seemed minor, it held enough power to create trouble.

Fang Lie rubbed his temples but reassured Mo Lanyun, "This isn’t your fault. Our enemy preyed on desperation—how could a dying man refuse a Ninth-Rank lifespan spirit pill?"

"That stubborn old fool!" Mo Lanyun spat. "To casually offer such a priceless pill!"

"Cost means nothing to him," Fang Lie said. "Revenge drives him. Stealing the White Jade Divine Fish would recoup all losses."

"Doesn’t he fear the Mo Sect’s retaliation?" Mao Mao fumed. "Selling the fish would expose him!"

"He’ll claim it came from his own territory," Mo Lanyun sighed. "Without proof, the Mo Sect can’t attack."

"When we catch him, he’ll pay dearly!" Mao Mao growled.

"Naturally," Fang Lie grinned. "We’ll strip him to the bone if not kill him."

Mi Qing interjected, "Young Master, when will you meet Qingyu Island’s supervisors? They await your audience."

"Delay it," Fang Lie said. "My presence now might scare our prey. Keep my whereabouts hidden."

"At once." Mi Qing bowed.

"Endure a few more days," Fang Lie added. "Proper rewards follow the old fool’s capture."

"Our thanks!" Mi Qing and Little Peach Red chorused before exiting.

For three days, Fang Lie, Mo Lanyun, and Mao Mao remained in the main hall, feasting and reminiscing. When the time came, they boarded a Fifth-Rank Flying Boat toward the mainland.

Meanwhile, Mo Lanfan relayed the message as instructed, too cowed to disobey. Capturing the traitor might redeem him, while betrayal meant unbearable consequences.

Escape proved impossible—every Wind Tribulation Immortal’s Soul Lantern stayed with their sect. Mo Lanfan’s Soul Lantern contained his soul fragment; his death would extinguish it, allowing the sect to trace his killer. Betrayal invited worse: curses through the lantern could kill him across continents.

This control kept high-level Cultivators loyal. Only rare treasures or divine skills could shield deserters—exceptions that proved the rule.

Only that it came at a huge price, so no one would easily choose to do so. At least Mo Lanfan honestly felt he didn’t deserve such treatment.

He didn’t dare consider betrayal, simply cooperating obediently with Fang Lie’s group.

After departing Qingyu Island, Fang Lie and the two women obediently boarded a Flying Boat toward the mainland. To maintain the ruse, they deliberately sped up as if urgently rushing.

Ten days and nights passed without incident. Just as the trio began suspecting their plan had failed, disaster struck abruptly.

Fang Lie’s Fifth-Rank Flying Boat measured over three hundred zhang, slicing through clouds like a meteor at terrifying speeds. Any Wind Tribulation Immortal colliding with this behemoth would face instant death.

Without warning, overwhelming power froze the speeding vessel midair. The sudden stop sent Fang Lie, Mao Mao, and Mo Lanyun tumbling across the floor. Clustered together, they rolled entangled from their seats to the doorway in undignified chaos.

Fang Lie staggered up, asking urgently: "Anyone hurt?"

"Scratches," Mo Lanyun spat bitterly.

"Fine," Mao Mao murmured, crimson-cheeked from being pressed against Fang Lie during the fall.

Avoiding her gaze, Fang Lie growled: "Stick to the plan. That bastard made us look fools – he’ll pay dearly!"

Both women nodded fiercely.

Fang Lie burst onto the deck, scanning surroundings until spotting the prime culprit – a Black-clad Masked Man hovering before them.

"Boy," the intruder demanded coldly, "Surrender the Ten-thousand-year Phoenix Blood Lingzhi and live."

Fang Lie had concealed his identity thoroughly – wings folded, golden-silver eyes disguised, features altered. While imperfect against close acquaintances, it sufficed against strangers relying on descriptions.

Though unrecognizable, Fang Lie sensed Thunder Tribulation Immortal-level cultivation from the man’s aura. Combined with the herb demand, this confirmed their ambusher.

Relaxing upon identifying his prey, Fang Lie smirked silently. His finger traced arcane patterns midair, forming a sinister Immortal Rune.

The Masked Man paled, recognizing the supreme divine skill. Sensing Fang Lie’s unrestrained aura, he gasped: "Sixty-thousand-li Qi Sea! You’re Fang Lie!"

Realization struck – Mo Lanfan had been captured and turned against him. Shock gave way to hesitation. Though fleeing seemed wise, the Masked Man calculated: Fang Lie remained merely a Qi Sea cultivator, likely carrying the precious herb. Victory meant curing Li Qingshi’s wounds.

Yet Fang Lie had slain Thunder Tribulation Immortals and nearly crushed the Ximen family clan. Torn between risk and reward, the Masked Man wavered fatally.

Fang Lei’s perfected Freezing Technique struck during this hesitation. Twenty-five years of closed-door training had honed this Celestial Platform-gained skill to instant activation. The Immortal Rune flashed into the Masked Man’s body before he could blink.

Paralyzed completely – limbs frozen, divine sense trapped – the man could only watch helplessly as Mo Lanyun and Mao Mao erupted from the Flying Boat.

Knowing their window lasted mere moments, the women flanked their quarry. Fingers blurred as each delivered nineteen precise strikes to his immobilized form.