Chapter 138: Cleverness Overreached

"I heard your nickname is 'Poison Dragon Whip,' but I think 'Bedbug Whip' would be more fitting."

The youth in white spat, then lashed out with a kick, striking the bandit leader directly in the temple. The leader let out a miserable shriek and collapsed, unconscious on the spot.

Only after this did the youth slowly turn to face the others, his expression calm.

Seemingly sensing the terror of the youth in white, the camels and horses neighed in alarm and retreated to the sides. Seeing their leader downed, the band of robbers lost all desire to fight. They scrambled to turn their mounts around and scattered in all directions, fearing that if they were too slow, they would become the youth's next target.

This was the law of survival in the Death Desert. As for their leader, at this point, no one cared whether he lived or died.

However, the bandits had barely fled any distance when, as if they had encountered something far more terrifying, they abruptly turned their horses around and fled back toward the center. Seeing this, the youth in white raised an eyebrow, about to launch another attack, when his expression suddenly changed.

"Little brat surnamed Mo, hand over the treasure map obediently, and this Venerable One will grant you a swift death."

The voice drifted from afar on the wind. One moment it seemed to be at the edge of the world, and the next, it felt as if it were whispering directly into one's ear.

"The Venerable Ten Thousand Poisons?!" the youth in white gasped.

"Unexpectedly, for someone so young, you have a bit of insight."

Before the words had finished fading, an old man appeared before them. He was dressed in grey with a hooked nose and purplish-black lips; he possessed a naturally malevolent appearance—the kind that would stop a child from crying at night just by looking at him. In truth, that was exactly the case; the Venerable Ten Thousand Poisons was one of the most ruthless figures in the Death Desert in recent years. When martial artists saw him, they were often too terrified even to cry.

The group of bandits looked at the Venerable Ten Thousand Poisons, their bodies shaking violently as if beyond their control. It was not that they wanted to return; rather, those who had tried to flee had already met their end at his hands. When it came to the treasure map of the ancient Loulan Kingdom, the Venerable Ten Thousand Poisons would never allow word of it to leak out.

He glanced at the bandit leader lying on the ground and scoffed, "Third-rate forces like the Poison Dragon Stronghold dare to covet the treasure map? Truly ignorant of life and death. But since you are already here, there is no need to leave!"

Before he finished speaking, the camels and horses under the bandits suddenly went mad, let out a piercing cry, and collapsed to the ground. The bandits scrambled up from the sand, their faces turning deathly pale as they stared at their fallen mounts. A dozen animals lay there without exception, foaming at the mouth, clearly beyond saving.

"The poison... when was the poison administered..."

"I don't want to die!"

One bandit, seeing the scene, let out a frantic cry and turned to run, his psychological defenses collapsing completely; he had been driven mad by fear. The Venerable Ten Thousand Poisons did not even glance at him, as if he cared nothing for the man. The bandit rejoiced inwardly, but his smile froze almost instantly. His face turned a deep, bruised purple, and without even a moan, he collapsed and died of poisoning.

The death of this bandit was like knocking over the first domino. Soon after, the remaining bandits collapsed one after another.

The youth in white watched this, his face growing increasingly grim, for he had not seen when or how the poison was administered.

"Are you trying to intimidate me?" the youth in white asked coldly.

"Facing a little brat like you, why would I need such trouble? If you don't hand over the treasure map quickly, you will soon find that you cannot even beg for death!" The Venerable Ten Thousand Poisons stared at the youth, his eyes glowing with an eerie light.

Even setting aside the Venerable Ten Thousand Poisons' invisible methods of poisoning, in terms of sheer cultivation, the youth in white was no match for him. He was well aware of this. Without hesitation, the youth in white tapped his toes and flipped backward.

Of the thirty-six stratagems, fleeing is the best.

But the Venerable Ten Thousand Poisons had anticipated this. With a flicker of his frame, he blocked the youth's path and struck out with his right palm. The youth in white felt a foul, rotting stench wash over him. Knowing the toxicity of his opponent's arts, he dared not meet the blow head-on and scrambled back, narrowly avoiding the palm strike.

Ning Xiu, standing on a high slope, saw the identity of the grey-clad old man and knew that the youth in white had no chance of escaping today. Of course, he could not win in a fight either. This meant that the youth was as good as dead. Ning Xiu knew this, and the two men on the field knew it just as well.

Just as the youth in white prepared to make a final, desperate stand, a voice drifted in from the distance.

"Hand the treasure map you possess to me, and I can ensure you survive."

The youth looked up to see a man in green robes leading a camel, slowly walking down from the distant slope. The Venerable Ten Thousand Poisons felt a jolt of alarm; someone had been lurking nearby, and he had not sensed it at all.

He turned abruptly, staring fixedly at the man in green approaching from afar, and said coldly, "Is your Excellency also here for the treasure map?"

Unable to discern the depths of Ning Xiu's strength, the Venerable Ten Thousand Poisons dared not act rashly. Only at his level did one truly understand how high the sky was and how thick the earth. Even though he had reached the pinnacle of the Grandmaster Realm, there were still many existences in this world that he could not afford to provoke.

"Well?" Ning Xiu didn't even glance at the Venerable Ten Thousand Poisons, looking instead at the youth in white.

"You both want the treasure map, but there is only one map. To whom should I give it?" A cunning light flickered in the youth's eyes.

Ning Xiu shook his head, a look of disappointment appearing in his eyes.

"You seem to have misunderstood something. I am not here to negotiate with you."

The moment the words left his lips, the youth in white felt a blur before his eyes. A crisp "slap" rang out, and he felt a stinging, burning pain on his cheek. He looked up at Ning Xiu with deep resentment, only for another slap to land.

This blow sent him sprawling to the ground. Ning Xiu looked down at the youth, his eyes icy. In the distance, the Venerable Ten Thousand Poisons watched Ning Xiu, a chill creeping into his own heart.

The danger of a foolish person lies not in their stupidity, but in their self-proclaimed cleverness. The youth in white had no idea who he had provoked, and was still foolishly trying to manipulate Ning Xiu.

Had this matter not been so bizarre, Ning Xiu would not have bothered to intervene. This location was nearly ten days' journey from Spring Water City; it was impossible for the map in the youth's possession to have originated there. Furthermore, their appearance on the treasure route was too much of a coincidence, which inevitably raised Ning Xiu's suspicions.

Only by seeing the so-called treasure map in the youth's hands could he verify the theories forming in his mind.

"I will say this one last time: hand over the treasure map."

The youth in white found that he dared not look Ning Xiu in the eye. His cultivation felt useless before the man. The first time might have been a lack of reaction, but the second time, it was not that he didn't want to dodge—he realized that no matter how he tried to evade, he could not escape the palm that grew ever larger in his vision.