Chapter 817: Chapter 648: Three Inches Below, the Mark of Peach Blossom The night wind swept over the empty city, birds flew away despondently, blades cold as frost, amidst the silence, only a solitary lamp illuminated the yellow paper window of the corner shop. The hazy candlelight cast a blurred silhouette on the cobblestone path. An old man with a hunched back sat by the window, holding a delicate small knife in his withered hand, its blade extremely thin, the silver handle as beautiful as a piece of art, with several simple objects placed on the table. He used the blade as a pen, gently carving on a soft thin hide of unknown material, white like fresh snow, cutting out a beautiful shape with precision. Putting down the knife, the old man took two wolf hair brushes, holding them between his fingers, lightly dipped in green ink and rouge, his withered hand steady as he painted. With a few strokes, a finely sculpted face of a beauty appeared on the transparent soft skin. Suddenly, a strong wind blew, opening the ajar windows, the candle flames flickered in the wind, rendering the old man’s face in moments of eerie stillness. At this subtle moment, the old man’s wrinkled eyes twitched suddenly, as steady footsteps echoed down the deserted streets of the Royal City. With a mildly surprised look, he smirked, opened the window further: “Despite the chaos in Mo City and Royal City, someone is still unwilling to give up this business, you are early, your face needs one more eye to complete, it’s chilly, why not come in and stay for a while…” The old man’s voice was abruptly caught in the wind, his eyes widened, the wrinkles on his face seemed like ripples disturbed by the wind, trembling slightly. The figure outside was not the East Mansion Commandery Princess he predicted, but a middle-aged man of ordinary appearance and attire. The man raised his hand casually, reaching through the ancient window, taking the beautifully painted skin from the table, unfolding it in his hand to examine with a glance, his voice plain yet coldly mocking: “Still the same taste for perversion, Sikong.” The old man’s fingers slackened, dropping the vermillion-dyed wolf hair brush, the trembling tip drawing a bright red streak at the corner of the beauty’s eye, like a slow trail of blood tears. The man’s brows lowered slightly, speaking indifferently: “Such a beautiful face, what a pity.” The name Sikong had long been exiled and abandoned, in the Six Realms, only one person had the right to call it out again. The old man’s body swayed standing before the window, almost losing balance, his hand pressing heavily on the table to prevent a humiliating fall. The man’s eyes lifted lightly, with subtle irony: “Where’s the madness of fratricide going?” Sikong trembled, his lips parted, those pathologically strange eyes should not show any twisted frenzy, his heart pounding heavily. The moment he saw the man’s appearance, he couldn’t discern whether to feel sorrow or joy, fear or surprise. A maelstrom of unparalleled chaos and trembling churned within, never imagining he would have the grace to meet him again in his lifetime: “Father… father…” Chapters first released on N0velFire.ɴet Jiang Chen glanced over, the title at Sikong’s lips quickly swallowed back, his face turning waxy white, gripping his fingers tightly to force calmness, he spoke cautiously and respectfully: “What brings you here?” “I heard from afar that the little Demon Lord intends to take a Royal Consort, came to join the spectacle, yet this Demon World remains as dull as ever.” Though Jiang Chen’s tone was very calm, as his first child, Sikong still detected the underlying anger in his words. Thus, Sikong’s heart tightened, suddenly realizing that his youngest royal sibling’s importance to Jiang Chen was unusual indeed. During the war of Burning Sea, he led the Heavenly Immortal gods across the sea, slaughtering all the way to the Dark Continent belonging only to corpse demons, capturing all sixteen corpse demon Royal Family members including Si Li. Fifteen Royal Family members were bloodied and burned at sea, crushed to ashes, their heads collected as trophies by myriad gods and immortals, even such a brutal scene could not garner a second glance from this cold and ruthless Corpse King patriarch. Only the Royal Family Si Li afforded him a special regard beyond others, Sikong had never seen Jiang Chen show such concern for anyone else. Now with the Demon Clan in chaos, that little fellow trapped in the Tribulation Realm, surprisingly could force him to leave Blood Pool as a soul division and come here. It made Sikong sense something distinctly unusual. Jiang Chen’s fingers moved lightly, the beauty’s skin silently turning to dust-like particles, disappearing like snow dust from his fingers, he observed Sikong’s tense body calmly: “I did not come for you, today’s not the day for your fate.” Even so, Sikong’s stressed mental state dared not relax even the slightest. From the day he intended rebellion, he never anticipated keeping hold of his life. He understood well that if Jiang Chen truly wished to kill him, it would not require Jiang Chen’s personal appearance, he would end himself where he stood in exchange for blood debts. In front of Jiang Chen, his life was so insignificant, unworthy to even be counted. Sikong lowered his head extremely, his attitude deferential: “Sikong is fearful.” Jiang Chen casually brushed away the ash from his fingertips, speaking: “My soul division’s consciousness will soon fade, in this Royal City, no one can suppress your madness, I’m not interested in your twisted methods of torture, don’t know why you came here, but I’ll still explain briefly.”