Chapter 43: Peacock Manor · The Truth

All the martial artists present fixed their gazes on the scroll. Their eyes were sharp; even with meticulous care, the painting’s slightly yellowed paper edges betrayed its age. Moreover, the frequent caresses from its owner spoke of deep cherishing.

At that moment, Ruan Xuezong’s words gained considerable credibility. Of course, many inwardly doubted whether an ancient, unopened painting could truly prove anything. Could a mere scroll alone destroy Elder Qu’s esteemed reputation? This young man, Ruan Xuezong, was surely being overly bold!

The players were even more astonished.

“So this is a key quest item, and we just swiped it right out?”

“Holy shit, we’re too badass!”

They felt favored by fortune, their hearts pounding. Recalling Ruan Xuezong’s earlier mention of the painting’s hidden secrets, they all held their breath in anticipation. The photographer player was inwardly screaming with excitement: What secret could it be? Come on, Zongzong, spill it!

“This is a portrait of a woman—Elder Qu’s old flame. For her, Elder Qu was willing to commit acts of utter madness.”

Amid the crowd’s eager expectations, Ruan Xuezong swiftly unrolled the scroll with a flourish. In that instant, everyone’s breathing grew heavy. They all wanted to see just what this painting was that could prove Peacock Manor’s collusion with the Demonic Sects and bring ruin to a renowned figure like Lord Qu.

The woman in the portrait gradually came into view, like a lady of refinement leisurely displaying her elegance after completing her toilette at the dressing table.

She was a young woman in her twenties, with slightly slender cheeks, curved brows, and a straight nose. She wore a loose cyan robe that draped her graceful figure. Her pretty features bore a passing resemblance to Qu Wangshu’s, and she gazed at the martial assembly with a smile brimming with warmth.

Just as the players had noted at first glance, she was beautiful—but not strikingly so.

Even Qu Wangshu herself was stunned. This was the first time she had seen the portrait. Qu Tianwei had once told her the truth about her origins: she was not Madam Qu’s daughter and had never met her birth mother. She had always imagined that woman must be extraordinarily beautiful, yet here was someone so utterly ordinary.

“So this is Lord Qu’s former love? Was she a Demonic Sect woman who bore him his second daughter, prompting Lord Qu to throw in his lot with the Demonic Sects and slaughter an entire righteous clan for her sake?” Someone could not hold back and voiced their skeptical question to Ruan Xuezong.

It was not that they disbelieved him entirely; rather, Ruan Xuezong’s words had whetted their appetites with high expectations, only for them to behold a woman of merely average looks. Inevitably, doubts crept in.

This woman was no celestial fairy descended to earth. Could Elder Qu, who had painstakingly cultivated his reputation for so many years, truly commit such a heinous, blood-soaked outrage that shocked the Rivers and Lakes—all for her sake?

Ruan Xuezong replied, “Please be patient, everyone. This painting hides another layer of mystery. To conceal this past affair, the old lord went to great lengths.”

With that, he swiftly drew a dagger, scraping at the portrait like a cold-faced physician wielding a scalpel. Fine powder flaked from the edges, drifting down like scattered stardust.

This was star sand pigment, produced from Western Regions minerals—a substance that could transform the mundane into the miraculous when used as makeup. What resolve must Qu Tianwei have summoned back then, brush in hand, stroke by stroke covering the woman’s radiantly alluring, otherworldly beauty? Today, Ruan Xuezong scraped it away, layer by layer.

In the instant he finished and stepped back.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. No one could describe the shock in their hearts. The players stood dumbfounded in place, instantly understanding Qu Tianwei’s obsession—

For this was a beauty beyond the reach of any mortal words to capture or depict.

The plain cyan robe, so ordinary on its own, became an intoxicating hue under the glow of this divine visage. Her elegant allure was peerless, seductive beyond language.

And in the smile playing about her eyes and brows, a exotic charm alien to the Central Plains subtly revealed itself. For such an exquisite woman, men might willingly become her simpering lapdogs, pouring out their hearts at her side.

The crowd remained entranced by this heaven-granted beauty for several dazed moments before piercing wails suddenly erupted around them.

The first to burst out was an elderly lay monk of advancing years. The players remembered him well; he had been seated at the banquet next door, eating vegetarian fare throughout. He would murmur “Amitabha” upon seeing Rivers and Lakes heroes drinking and feasting on meat, or gently the young swordsmen in their rivalries.

Onlookers would say he was a seasoned monk with a steadfast Zen heart.

Yet this paragon of composure took one look at the portrait’s true face and suffered a grave shock, vomiting blood as he cried, “It’s you, Du Qing’e—”

Similar hysterical cries rose from many others, as if they were denouncing their father’s murderer.

The players abruptly swallowed hard, snapping out of their trance, pale with alarm. “What the hell? What’s going on?” Why did this revelation turn everyone into a frothing mob?

The young monk beside the elder said with a complicated expression, “Amitabha. Young heroes, you may not know this, but this woman was my master’s mortal enemy before he returned to lay life…”

In the young monk’s brief recounting, the players were drawn back to that bygone tale. Once, a certain woman had come to Shaolin Temple and encountered a young, handsome monk. She sat in the treetops, smiling down at him.

Her smile toppled cities, captivating all who beheld it.

The monk had harbored no worldly desires, yet he was ensnared by that soul-shattering beauty in an instant, plunging into irredeemable doom. He broke the temple’s precepts; he had been the next abbot of Shaolin, but he forsook it all in a moment of weakness, ruining a brilliant future. It was his choice, made without regret—until it turned out she had toyed with him. Her true aim was to steal Shaolin’s supreme martial arts. The monk fell from grace, and Shaolin could no longer tolerate this traitor. Expelled from the sect, he became a wandering lay monk adrift in the Rivers and Lakes, with no place under heaven to call home.

Holy shit? The players’ eyes nearly popped out at this juicy scandal—and there was more to come.

A woman in blue robes claimed to be the granddaughter of the Huainan Salt Gang, but many martial artists knew that faction had vanished from the Jianghu Know-It-All’s records twenty years prior. What kind of gang was an empty shell?

The blue-robed swordswoman said to the players with eyes red from hatred, “Young heroes, never provoke a beautiful woman when roaming the Rivers and Lakes. This Du Qing’e is a venomous viper. She posed as a damsel in distress and was taken in by my ancestor at the gang’s stronghold. Overnight—while I was still in my mother’s womb, as she later told me—Du Qing’e slaughtered my ancestor, my father, and the entire household. I survived only because she happened to be visiting her family that night.”

This was the classic tale of disaster born from lust, tearing a faction apart from within.

“I was once that foolish too…” An elderly man spoke up. The players jumped at his appearance, for the painting had shocked him into shedding bloody tears—genuine tears of blood tracing down his wrinkled face to his lips. “I abandoned my wife and child for her, squandered my fortune, and became her plaything. I even tore out my heart for her sake, yet she turned and laughed, scorning me as filthy and hypocritical… I regret it all!”

These fragmented accounts were enough for the players to piece together a hazy picture: twenty years ago, this peerless beauty named Du Qing’e had wreaked havoc across the Rivers and Lakes through her seductive wiles. Not only Qu Tianwei but countless other martial heroes had been used up and discarded by her. No wonder Madam Qu had coldly remarked that all those pursuing that woman were righteous folk—clearly no good came of her—yet Qu Tianwei remained blindly infatuated.

This was no divine fairy of a bygone era; she was the consummate enchantress, a demonic seductress!

Finally, the most frenzied scream came from none other than the Righteous Path Fairy, Qu Wangshu. It startled all the players.

Young Miss Qu had always prided herself on two things in her Rivers and Lakes journeys: first, the unattainable status and power of Peacock Manor, where she had been raised as its second miss amid luxury and adoration; second, her own beauty, surpassed by few women in the world.

Yet now, her prized looks fell short of this woman’s by a tenth.

Worse still, as Ruan Xuezong scraped away the makeup from the woman’s brows and eyes, Qu Wangshu’s heart plummeted into an unfathomable abyss. She stood frozen, terror spreading endlessly: she bore not the slightest resemblance to Du Qing’e… The one who looked like Du Qing’e was not her, not her…

Impossible!

The realization of some horrifying possibility struck her. Clutching her head, she unleashed a hysterical shriek.

“Miss Qu, you’ve realized it too, haven’t you? In truth, you…” Before Ruan Xuezong could finish, a sudden change occurred!

The players spotted the Demonic Sect’s moves but had no time to shout a warning to Zongzong before arrows rained down from all directions toward Ruan Xuezong. The guests were forced to halt their collective condemnation of old grudges.

The arrows blanketed the sky like a storm, whistling lethally with murderous intent, concentrated solely on his corner.

Ruan Xuezong dodged the volley, compelled to pause his words.

Once the assault ceased, he looked up to see a vast host of black-clad figures appearing at Peacock Manor’s perimeter. They wielded rocket bows, their flames nearly illuminating the long night atop Yanghe Mountain.

Leading them was a man in black robes with an extraordinarily handsome face. His amber eyes were a shade paler than usual, lending an innate iciness—and demonic allure—to his features.

In the flickering firelight, a level 60 black eagle perched on his shoulder, its sharp beak emitting shrill cries.

As he drew nearer, those with keen noses could faintly detect a bloody stench underlying the sandalwood—or rather, the gore was so thick that even the serene woodsy fragrance could not mask it.

His presence was overwhelmingly intimidating, the hawk along with him sending shivers through the less bold guests. No one dared make a sound. The players gasped, “Oh my god, the Demon Monk’s here too—”

The Sweeping Old Man felt a chill: this singularly handsome young man was also a half-step grandmaster!

Ruan Xuezong stood with hands clasped behind his back, coolly saying, “So it was you after all.”

He was unsure whether to address this man as Du Rulan or Nan Fuli—perhaps neither was his true name.

With her backer arrived, Tao Caiyan darted behind Du Rulan like a swift sparrow. She glared venomously at Ruan Xuezong, jabbing two fingers in a gesture of gouging his eyes and slitting his throat—her arrogant nature laid bare.

“Long time no see, Lord Ruan.”

Du Rulan narrowed his slender eyes, a smile gradually forming on his face. “Lord Ruan is truly perceptive. I never expected that ragtag band you lead to have any real skill. Bumbling about Peacock Manor like headless flies these past days, you actually unearthed some secrets… and nearly ruined the Demonic Sects’ great undertaking.” He spared not a glance for the scroll, nor for Qu Wangshu collapsed on the ground, her eyes vacant and dazed.

“Peacock Manor’s collusion with the Demonic Sects offends my sense of justice,” Ruan Xuezong said coldly.

At those words, something seemed to occur to Du Rulan. The smile faded from his lips, replaced by utter chill. “Ruan Xuezong, you’re an intriguing fellow. I had no intention of killing you…”

He gave no order, yet his black-clad followers nocked flaming poison arrows billowing thick smoke, while the black eagle hovered poised overhead—as if a great battle hung on a knife’s edge.

The players recognized these as level 30-plus fire poison arrows of devastating power; a hit meant certain injury. They drew sharp breaths and swiftly shielded Ruan Xuezong behind them.

Ruan Xuezong showed no fear. He declared, “Try it if you can!”

【007 System: Ding! Combat dungeon “Peacock Bloodstained Cry” has been triggered! (Nightmare difficulty)】

【Task Description: Dark clouds press upon the city on the verge of collapse, the peacock’s mournful cry stained with blood. All the guests on site have fallen into dire straits, and the Demonic Sects’ conspiracy has surfaced at last. This night is destined to bring storms of blood and slaughter. Young heroes, bravely charge into the battlefield!】

【Recommended Level: 35】

The Demonic Sects outnumbered their foes and came on aggressively, their faces twisted with murderous intent to wipe everyone out. This left all the guests at the scene in a panic, and even the players felt a twinge of fear at first.

But the moment they heard the electronic chime of the system’s announcement, the players perked up with excitement. Their fear vanished in an instant. “Holy shit! This plot twist really kicked off a combat dungeon. I’m too badass—I’m the first to trigger a massive raid!”

It wasn’t surprising that a combat dungeon had triggered. The Jinling City main storyline quest had started at the inn and unfolded in ring after ring of intrigue. As all the players delved deeper into the investigation, each revelation grew more twisted and bizarre than the last. The game forums were already buzzing with hundreds of posts speculating that the banquet at Peacock Manor on Yanghe Mountain was bound to feature an earth-shattering battle!

“Mommy, look at me! I’m gonna be on TV again!” one player shouted at the top of his lungs.

His words sent every player plunging into a wave of nostalgia.