Chapter Fifty-Eight: Relying on Oneself Is Better Than Relying on Others

Liu Shuangling's words were like a thorn, stabbing mercilessly into the catwoman’s pride.

Fury surged within her.

As the Night Cat, a force to be reckoned with in the underworld, she had always played the role of seductress, ensnaring men at her whim. Never before had she been forced to abase herself, offering her beauty in servitude.

“All of you, die!” she screamed.

Unleashing the full force of her Shadow Devouring power, her spiritual pressure surged like a tide, intent on swallowing the shadows of everyone within three kilometers, draining their strength to challenge Bai Yujing.

Such an open assault was utterly contrary to the assassin’s code of stealth, but anger had drowned out all reason. Murder was all she could think of, with no thought for the consequences.

Yet, as soon as her spiritual pressure began to flow, Bai Yujing’s right arm trembled slightly. The inky shadows coiled around his arm snapped like fragile threads with a crisp “crack.”

In the next instant, his right hand shot out like lightning, closing precisely around the catwoman’s throat.

“Mm…” she grunted, a muffled sound escaping as a tremendous force crashed into her, scattering her spiritual pressure in moments.

Her body was flung forward like a ragdoll.

One after another, the shadows coiled around Bai Yujing’s feet, left arm, and neck snapped with clear, brittle sounds.

Exploding shadows peeled away from the catwoman’s upper body, revealing her lower half clad in a skintight suit.

At her toes, the darkness gathered into the shape of a famed sword, dropping to the ground with a metallic clang.

Her feet dangled in midair, her chest heaving violently with each desperate gasp.

She clawed at Bai Yujing’s fingers, trying to pry them loose, but his iron grip did not budge.

“Ugh… ugh…”

Broken groans escaped her lips, her face shifting from crimson to pale.

Bai Yujing’s expression was calm. “Let me ask you: do you know your employer’s identity and whereabouts?”

The catwoman’s hands went still.

These days, all her assignments came through a black market app; even the phrase he’d quoted was just the employer’s note on the order.

Traditional, offline assassin protocols had long since fallen out of use.

But she certainly couldn’t admit that. She blinked rapidly, scrambling to invent a plausible lie.

Bai Yujing, sensing her spiritual pressure, already knew the answer.

He raised his left hand, pressing his index and middle fingers together. Like a sword, they struck the catwoman’s right temple with the speed of lightning.

A faint “pop.”

Her body went rigid, as if turned to stone.

“This is the Northern Dipper Confession Strike. In the one second before I withdraw my hand, consider this your chance to repent for all your sins.”

He withdrew his fingers, leaving behind a trail of crimson droplets.

At the same time, he released her throat and stepped back with ghostly swiftness.

The catwoman’s delicate features twisted, her once-beautiful face contorting into a mask of terror.

Her body swelled rapidly, like a balloon filling with air. Her tight suit split with sharp rips as cracks spread across her skin. “Curse you and your father!”

Bang!

Her organs and flesh erupted in a crimson mist, not a single piece of her body falling to the ground.

The blood mist drifted on the wind.

Liu Shuangling hurriedly stepped back, fearful of accidentally inhaling any part of the catwoman’s remains.

Bai Yujing silently circled around her, resting a hand on her shoulder.

Startled, Liu Shuangling trembled, her ample chest nearly bursting through her T-shirt, even the feathered robe straining at the seams.

Her shoulder muscles tensed, then gradually relaxed, reverting to their usual softness.

“Now explain what just happened,” Bai Yujing asked unhurriedly.

Suppressing the shock of having someone suddenly touch her shoulder, Liu Shuangling replied, “Last night, I met a strange man. He admired my talent and wanted me to join his organization. I told him I would, if the sect leader died. So, today he sent an assassin after you.”

“And who was he?”

“I don’t know. He had golden, slit-pupil eyes—he didn’t seem human.”

“Oh.” Bai Yujing recalled Zhu Jian’s description of that ‘lord’ and wondered if Liu Shuangling had encountered the same person.

“Shuangling, you haven’t been doing anything behind my back, have you?”

“I only kill those who deserve it.”

Her answer was honest.

Bai Yujing could always tell truth from lies, no matter how skilled the act or convincing the tone. Any falsehoods would be instantly apparent.

This time, her words rang true.

He felt a wave of relief.

He was willing to give Liu Shuangling a chance to walk the righteous path, precisely because she had not yet committed unforgivable acts.

For those like the catwoman, whose sins were already deep—no matter their looks or gender—he offered only one fate.

Good and evil cannot coexist.

That was Bai Yujing’s unshakable line.

“I’m glad you remembered my words. Go home,” Bai Yujing said, patting her shoulder.

A faint gloom settled over Liu Shuangling’s exquisite face, like dark clouds over the sea.

She loathed the feeling of her fate resting in another’s hands.

Her research must accelerate—she had to reach the realm of a Grade Nine Spiritualist as soon as possible.

Then, she would make Bai Yujing understand what powerlessness truly meant.

…

Elsewhere, in a high-end apartment, a steaming plate of peeled shrimp sat on the dining table, each translucent morsel glistening invitingly under the lights.

A man pulled out a chair, about to sit for dinner.

Ding. The phone beside his bowl suddenly lit up. He quickly unlocked it and checked the message from his boss.

“Night Cat is dead. Mission failed. Tell the employer we’re dropping the order—no refund.”

His pupils constricted in shock, nearly dropping his phone.

Instinctively, his hand went to his neck, tracing the obvious welt—a whip mark whose uneven texture recalled the nights spent under the catwoman’s dominance.

He remembered her high heels, her whip, the way she looked down on him.

Her eyes full of mockery and disdain, the sharp crack of her whip on his flesh.

The pain and the pleasure mingled, intoxicating him.

Such a powerful, beautiful catwoman… dead!

A storm of emotions welled up inside him. He would never again taste the “white silk ice cream” she made him eat in winter, nor would he savor the “pearl milk tea” she forced on him after hours in long boots during summer—sour, with a hint of foot odor.

She’d always forced him, but truth be told, he liked it.

“Damn it!” He pounded the table, rattling the dishes. “Bai Yujing of Qingyun Sect!”

After venting, he quickly reined in his grief.

As an ordinary man, there was nothing he could do to retaliate against someone of that caliber.

He opened the black market app, found the Night Cat job in his orders, and sent a message.

Soon, Yaqi saw his message, a flash of surprise glinting in his golden, slit-pupil eyes.

He had hired Night Cat before and knew her skills were not to be underestimated; that’s why he’d chosen her to deal with Bai Yujing.

He hadn’t expected her to fail.

Yaqi narrowed his eyes, his interest in Bai Yujing growing.

Perhaps, it was time to handle things personally.