Chapter Fifty-Two: The Demon Behind the Painted Skin

Just as Qin Feng tried to keep watching, the woman's eyes suddenly snapped open.

In that instant, a sharp pain seared through Qin Feng’s eyes, and the strange vision before him vanished.

“What a sinister thing! So it was you making mischief!” he muttered, hastily stuffing the wooden plaque into his storage ring. As soon as the plaque disappeared, the two-headed black python returned to normal.

This board, he thought, should be kept for later research; perhaps it would reveal some unexpected secrets.

Above the temple doorway, now stripped of its plaque, the bare beam looked even more desolate and forlorn.

At that moment, a cold wind swept by, making Qin Feng shiver involuntarily. The two figures ahead of him had already walked some distance, so he hurried to catch up with quick steps.

Though the Blood Branch Temple wasn’t large, it was at least a three-courtyard compound. In the central area rose a grand building: the Hall of Blood Branch.

At the entrance to this hall, several figures lingered—standing or sitting, each in their own posture.

When Zhan Bai and his party approached, those by the door all turned to look at them.

Qin Feng, at the rear, couldn’t help but size up the group as well.

There were two men and two women present.

“Daoist Zhan, you’ve arrived! What a coincidence, we only just got here ourselves!” One of the men, a young cultivator in yellow robes with a neatly trimmed mustache, greeted Zhan Bai with excessive warmth, his demeanor genteel and friendly. But Qin Feng gave a slight shake of his head—the man’s smile was far too false, the very image of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. The cold flicker in his eyes alone told Qin Feng he was a dangerous schemer.

Sensing the man’s cultivation, Qin Feng estimated he was at the third stage of the Human Gang Realm.

“It’s only right that Daoist Hu should arrive early. I, Zhan, was delayed a bit on the road after meeting Daoist Qin Feng, so we came a little late,” Zhan Bai replied amicably, as if the two were on good terms.

“Daoist Qin Feng?” The young cultivator’s gaze swept over Qin Feng, making him uncomfortable, but he maintained his composure and exchanged the expected courtesies. As for the true nature of the man, Qin Feng kept his own counsel.

“I am Qin Feng, of the Qin family in Luoyang Town,” Qin Feng said with a respectful salute.

“Oh?” The mustached cultivator, surnamed Hu, turned in surprise to the tall, burly man beside him. “Qin Hu, here’s another of your Qin clan. Do you recognize him?”

At this, all eyes turned to the man called Qin Hu.

Though Qin Feng’s expression didn’t change, his heart lurched violently.

He knew the real Qin family disciple was already dead. He’d considered the possibility that someone might infiltrate the group, but to do so under their original identity seemed almost farcical.

The man before him was a towering, formidable figure, even more robust than Qin Feng himself. His powerful build radiated explosive strength; his face was broad, his temples thick with hair, his beard like steel bristles. His eyes shone with fierce intelligence, and with every movement, a sharp light seemed to flash.

His cultivation was at the fourth stage of the Human Gang Realm.

Here was a man who looked rough but was clearly shrewd and calculating. Qin Feng immediately judged that this person was not what he seemed—surely he was the one who had killed the real Qin Hu.

But…

Qin Feng glanced at Zhan Bai. There was no trace of suspicion in Zhan Bai’s eyes, which took him aback.

Simple disguise techniques were easily seen through, yet though Qin Feng knew the truth, no one else seemed to notice anything amiss. As he recalled the two flayed corpses in the forest and considered the implications, a dreadful theory formed in his mind—one he could scarcely believe himself.

Could this be a demon who wore human skin?

What a cunning method!

A glint of coldness flashed in Qin Feng’s eyes, but he forced himself to remain calm, inwardly mocking the imposter’s act.

Sure enough, a flicker of panic crossed Qin Hu’s eyes—clearly, he hadn’t expected Qin Feng to appear. But he quickly regained his composure, looked Qin Feng up and down, then strode over and clapped him heartily on the shoulder.

“Isn’t this my dear cousin? What brings you here?” he said warmly.

“You…know me?” Qin Feng raised an eyebrow in reply.

Qin Hu laughed heartily and punched Qin Feng lightly in the chest. “You rascal, we met in Tianfeng City, remember? There were too many people at the time. I remember you, but you may not remember your cousin.”

With just a few quick words, Qin Feng couldn’t help but applaud the imposter’s skill. His words left no holes.

Qin Hu was indeed older and should address him as cousin. For a disciple of the Qin clan who’d reached the Human Gang Realm, it would be strange not to have visited Tianfeng City. Claiming to have met there was plausible, given how vast the city was and how many faces one might forget.

The imposter’s response was flawless—if Qin Feng hadn’t known for certain he was a fraud, he might have been thoroughly fooled.

He was gambling, Qin Feng realized, betting that Qin Feng truly didn’t know Qin Hu.

Instead of answering right away, Qin Feng turned his gaze to the two women. One was dressed as a Daoist nun, stern and taciturn, her features pleasant but largely obscured by her austere robes—fitting for her role. The other woman was flamboyant, her revealing dress and swaying bosom leaving little to the imagination, her long, white legs exposed as she cast flirtatious glances Qin Feng’s way. Her looks were above average, but her coquettishness was overwhelming.

There had been two bodies in the forest—one of them, Qin Hu, was a fake. Which of the women was the other imposter?

The corpses had been burned, and even if they hadn’t, skinless bodies proved little. Only he knew one had been a Qin clan disciple, but the secret of his own bloodline soul could not be revealed.

With no evidence, who would believe him? There was likely another enemy lurking in disguise…

Thinking this, Qin Feng curled his lips into a smile and strode forward to embrace Qin Hu.

“Haha, cousin!” he called.

“Cousin!” the other replied.

Both were acting, but the performance was flawless.

Qin Feng chose to bide his time. He knew the imposters would eventually make a mistake; only then would it be truly effective to expose them. More importantly, they didn’t know he’d seen through their ruse, so he could observe from the shadows and perhaps unmask the other hidden enemy.

Through introductions, he learned that the young man in yellow was Hu Tianming, a senior member of the Spark Sect and the oldest present.

The Daoist nun was surnamed Sun, of the Misty View lineage, third stage Human Gang Realm, in her thirties, with an aloof and ascetic demeanor that was somewhat off-putting.

The voluptuous, seductive woman was Hua Ruyan of Hundred Flowers Valley—a sect with a dubious reputation, but still grudgingly accepted by the orthodox world. Her cultivation was surprisingly high, at the second stage of the Human Gang Realm, qualifying her to be part of the group.

Qin Feng, at the first stage of the Human Gang Realm, was the weakest among them, on par with Fang Xinyi; but while she had advanced long ago, he had only just broken through the previous night.

So, aside from Zhan Bai, the others saw him as a rather insignificant figure—a fact evident in their eyes.

Qin Feng smirked inwardly; this suited him perfectly, giving him the freedom to observe unnoticed.

He’d thought these were all the participants, but Zhan Bai’s next words left him stunned.

“Daoist Tu and Daoist Shi aren’t here yet?” Zhan Bai asked.

“What, there are still two more?” Qin Feng thought with a sigh. If both were women, the difficulty of identifying the imposter would increase exponentially.

“Tu Zheng? That one’s elusive—you never know when he’ll pop up. Hey, speak of the devil!” Hu Tianming joked, then suddenly pointed in surprise at a patch of ground before them.

Everyone turned to look.

On the open ground, the soil began to liquefy, swirling into a vortex of mud. From the center, a figure slowly emerged…