Chapter 169: Chapter 169 - The Stolen Mask and the Thieves
Several cultivators swallowed at the same time.
One young man from Su Bai’s procession whispered, "That... that is not a protective treasure?"
Tang Ziyan answered kindly, "It protects others from thinking too much."
Su Bai heard her and sighed inwardly.
Among everyone present, Tang Ziyan might be the only one who understood him too much in the wrong direction, or perhaps it was the right direction. Su Bai was not sure which answer was worse.
The cultivators of Outpost No. 5 looked ashamed.
They had just been saved by Su Bai. The gratitude from the false-body incident had not even settled properly, yet people from their side had already tried to rob him in public.
The bandaged young man stepped forward with a dark expression. He cupped his fists deeply toward Su Bai.
"Fellow Daoist Su, this matter is our shame. We will not shield them."
Several Outpost No. 5 cultivators behind him lowered their heads. Whether they knew the thieves or not, the fact remained that the attempt had happened under their eyes, from their gathered group.
Su Bai looked at the bandaged young man briefly, then turned his gaze toward the two injured thieves.
They were alive.
The Glacier-Lung Bone Mask had not remained on either of them long enough to kill them outright. Frost still clung to the corners of their mouths. Blood mixed with tiny ice crystals, and every breath they took sounded like someone dragging a broken blade through wet cloth.
That was already fortunate.
Or unfortunate, depending on who was asked.
Su Bai’s eyes cooled. Of course he was angry.
He had allowed the attempt to happen because the lesson would be cleaner that way.
Greed had to reveal itself fully before it could be dealt with properly. But allowing a thief to step forward was not the same as forgiving the theft.
His fingers moved.
Nether Threads slipped out silently.
The two fallen thieves were bound first. Threads wrapped around their wrists, ankles, arms, and waists, then pulled tight enough to prevent movement without immediately worsening their injuries.
The remaining accomplices froze, then they reacted. Perhaps they thought Su Bai’s attention was still on the injured pair.
Whatever the reason, they turned and ran.
Their movement was fast, but Su Bai’s threads were faster.
Black lines crossed the outpost like shadows stretched thin. Before the two cultivators could leave the protected zone, the Nether Threads caught their legs and shoulders, dragged them backward, and slammed them to the ground.
The sound made several cultivators flinch.
In a few breaths, the thieves and accomplices were bound together. The two injured ones could barely breathe. The others were pale, trembling, and suddenly very aware that escaping from Su Bai was not as simple as wanting to run.
Su Bai turned toward the gathered cultivators.
The entire outpost went quiet.
He did not raise his voice, but no one missed a word.
"Some of you seem to have misunderstood something."
His gaze swept over the crowd.
"Actually, this mask does not protect me from the red mist."
Many cultivators stiffened.
Su Bai lifted one hand and removed the Glacier-Lung Bone Mask from his face.
"The true reason the mist affects me less is because I cultivate the body. The red mist is dangerous, but it can also temper flesh, breath, and meridians."
He paused, then looked at the mask.
"This object is also used for tempering."
Everyone stared at him.
For a moment, no one knew what expression to make.
Tempering?
That thing?
The object that had turned a cultivator’s own breath into ice knives and shredded his throat?
That was called tempering?
A cultivator from Outpost No. 5 opened his mouth, then closed it again. Another one looked at Su Bai as if seeing a pale ghost wearing human skin. Even several members of Su Bai’s procession, who had already accepted many strange things about him, became silent.
Su Bai raised the mask slightly.
"If anyone still thinks it is a protective treasure, you may try it."
No one stepped forward.
Even the wind inside the outpost seemed to become cautious.
The two injured thieves shook harder. One of them seemed to want to speak, but the moment his throat moved, pain twisted his face so badly that he almost fainted.
The uninjured accomplices lowered their heads until their foreheads almost touched the ground.
They were afraid Su Bai would make them try it.
Tang Ziyan’s eyes curved faintly. "No one?"
No one answered her.
A few people even pretended not to hear.
A moment later, Su Bai put the Glacier-Lung Bone Mask back on. The pale bone settled over the lower half of his face. His breathing remained calm, and not the slightest frost appeared around his throat.
This sight made the silence heavier.
Su Bai lowered his hand.
"I do not like explaining too much," he said. "We are cultivators. Everyone has secrets and things they cannot show casually. I do not ask what is inside your storage rings. I do not ask how your sects refine your techniques. I hope no one mistakes that restraint for permission to touch what belongs to me."
Several cultivators bowed their heads.
Just then, Su Bai’s eyes changed slightly.
For a breath, the suppression around his aura loosened.
The hidden cold inside him spread outward.
It was not simple killing intent. This was colder than that. It felt like frost forming inside the lungs, like death lowering its hand onto the back of one’s neck without hurry.
The cultivators closest to him froze.
A few Outpost No. 5 cultivators instinctively stepped back. Some of the weaker ones felt their breathing stop for a moment. Even the bandaged young man’s expression changed, and his hand tightened around his saber.
For the first time, many people felt Su Bai’s aura.
Before this, they had only seen his actions, but they had not truly felt him.
Now they did.
It was like standing before a frozen well and realizing something alive was looking back from the bottom.
But soon, the aura vanished.
Su Bai let the tenth tribulation mark suppress his aura again, and only then did the outpost seem to return to normal.
Only no one felt normal anymore.
If they had known that this was only a small portion of what Su Bai was suppressing, some of them might have reconsidered whether the Fallen-Star Sanctuary was truly the most dangerous thing around them.
Su Bai turned back to the bound thieves.
They had received the aura most directly. The uninjured accomplices were already pale. The two injured ones looked even worse, though that might have been because their throats were still full of broken frost.
Su Bai asked, "Which sect are you from?"
The thieves shivered. No one answered immediately.
One of the uninjured accomplices forced out a trembling voice. "F-Fellow Daoist Su, please spare us. We were foolish. We were blinded for a moment. We did not mean—"
Su Bai’s eyes narrowed.
The man’s voice died in his throat.
He realized too late that Su Bai had asked a question, and he had chosen not to answer it.
That was another mistake.
"We are from Blood Iron Sect," another accomplice hurriedly said. His forehead nearly touched the ground. "All of us are from Blood Iron Sect."
The words spread through the outpost.
Several cultivators exchanged glances.
Once, when Radiant Sky Sect had declined from its former glory, many sects had looked toward the empty space it left behind. Blood Iron Sect had been one of the forces that rose during that period. To outsiders, it had seemed fierce, ambitious, and powerful enough to challenge old reputations.
But people who knew more understood that Blood Iron Sect’s rise had not been clean.
Its disciples were not weak, but its internal atmosphere had always been harsh, greedy, and full of competition. It produced sharp blades, but many of those blades cut whoever stood closest.
Su Bai’s gaze became complicated.
Blood Iron Sect.
That name held an old thread of karma.
His master had obtained the Sunflower Sutra from Blood Iron Sect.
It was one of the reasons Su Bai had eventually been pulled into the shape of his current path.
If one traced cause and effect far enough, Blood Iron Sect had already touched him.
For a moment, Su Bai was silent.
The bound thieves trembled harder. That silence frightened them more than anger would have. Anger at least had direction. Silence left too much room for imagination.
One breath passed, then another.
Several cultivators from Outpost No. 5 did not dare speak. Even Su Bai’s own procession became quiet.
Finally, Su Bai sighed.
He had initially considered killing them.
Inside the Fallen-Star Sanctuary, theft could easily become murder. Stealing another cultivator’s life-saving object in a place filled with miasma was no different from pushing them toward death.
If the stolen object had truly protected him, then their action would have been an attempt on his life.
But Blood Iron Sect complicated the matter.
There was karma there.
Killing them would be simple. It would end their lives, but it would not settle the connection properly.
Just then, Su Bai lifted his hand.
An object appeared between his fingers.
It was a pen.
Many people were confused.
Lin Weiyang’s eyes changed.
"A Blood Ink Pen?"
Her voice was not loud, but in the current silence, everyone heard it.
Several cultivators froze.
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