Lu Chong was the strongest among Yun Zhilan's surviving disciples, but he was only a high-level Martial Grandmaster.

The other two male disciples were both mid-level Martial Grandmasters.

The two female disciples were dressed in contrasting colors: one in a fiery red dress, radiant and alluring; the other in a pristine white dress, pure and ethereal.

However, their strength was slightly inferior among the crowd, being only at the initial stage of Martial Grandmaster.

Their escape speed was undeniably fast. However, compared to the short sword flying through the air, it was like a snail's pace, utterly insignificant.

The short knife, carrying a sharp gust of wind, ripped through the sky like a black lightning bolt.

With two muffled "thuds," the two mid-level Martial Grandmaster male disciples didn't even have time to react before the short knife precisely slit their necks.

Blood gushed out like a fountain. Their eyes widened, their faces filled with terror and resentment. Their bodies slowly collapsed to the ground, the breath of life rapidly draining from their veins.

Holding a crescent shovel, Lu Chong was originally prepared to fight to the death, but the scene before him terrified him.

His hands began to tremble uncontrollably, and the crescent shovel almost slipped from his grasp.

The two female disciples were terrified, their legs giving way and they collapsed to the ground. Their faces were ashen, their eyes filled with despair and fear, as if they saw the abyss of death closing in on them.

Just then, the short knife attacked again, striking Lu Chong with lightning speed.

Lu Chong only felt a flash of cold light before his eyes, and before he could make any defensive move, the short knife had already pierced through his body.

His eyes widened, and a gurgling sound came from his throat as if he wanted to say something, but he couldn't utter a word. His body fell straight down.

"Fang Han, please...don't kill us...We're willing to stay by your side and serve you, to serve you tea and water, to do your laundry and cook for you, we're willing to do anything..."

The female disciples in red and white were terrified. They suppressed their fear, struggled to their feet, and then knelt down in front of Fang Han with a thud, kowtowing and begging repeatedly.

Their voices were choked with sobs, and their delicate bodies trembled. Their pitiful appearance might have stirred pity in anyone else.

They knew in their hearts that in front of a powerful figure like Fang Han, escape was simply wishful thinking. Their only way to survive was to use their beauty and seductive skills to bewitch Fang Han and persuade him to spare their lives.

So they began to use all their charms, their bodies swaying and their eyes filled with seductive allure, trying to attract Fang Han's attention.

It has to be said that Yun Zhilan, that old fellow, did have a rather unique eye when it came to choosing female disciples.

Both female disciples were tall and voluptuous with shapely curves and charming faces, like blooming flowers in spring, delicate and beautiful.

Moreover, they are quite talented and have considerable potential in cultivation.

Having served Yun Zhilan for a long time, they knew how to make men change their minds. At this moment, their eyes were as swift as lightning, as if hiding endless tenderness and affection; their voices were incomparably charming, like a nightingale singing in a valley, making one's bones soften.

If it were any other man, he would probably be immediately attracted to them and fall into their trap of tenderness.

"With looks like yours, there's no need for you to try and seduce me. Trying to flaunt your charms in front of me is just humiliating yourself. Besides, you're all just playthings of that old bastard Yun Zhilan. I, Fang Han, have no penchant for picking up other people's leftovers!"

Fang Han said coldly, his eyes filled with disgust.

However, Fang Han did not immediately kill the two women, Wang Jiaer, and Wang Muxue.

At this moment, the short knife hovered in the air, emitting a cold, eerie light, like a lurking beast ready to attack at any moment.

And its target is Yunzhilan.

Fang Han controlled the sword with his divine sense. The killing weapon that originally belonged to Yun Zhilan had now become a sharp blade in his hand, at his command.

"Fang Han, you...you are a powerful expert in the Divine Sense Realm?"

Looking at this unbelievable scene before her, Yun Zhilan felt a chill run from the soles of her feet to her head, and she began to stammer as she spoke.

His eyes were filled with terror and disbelief, as if he had seen the most horrible thing in the world.

"What do I care about my cultivation level? Killing you is a piece of cake for me."

Fang Han looked at Yun Zhilan and said.

"Young Master Fang, please spare my life!"

Yun Zhilan, disregarding all shame, knelt directly in front of Fang Han.

Seeing that Fang Han did not kill the two female disciples who were kneeling and begging, he felt a glimmer of hope, thinking that such desperate pleas might actually bring him a chance to live.

Fang Han's lips curled up slightly, revealing an extremely sarcastic sneer, a smile as cold and piercing as frost in winter.

He said coldly, "I can spare Wang Jiaer and Wang Muxue's lives for now out of consideration for our past relationship. But you, Yun Zhilan, are unforgivable! If you hadn't secretly colluded with the Zhao family, how could I have been betrayed by Zhao Ziyi and your two heartless disciples, and turned into a drug? Today, I will not only kill you, but I will also make you suffer the cruelest torment in the world, and die in endless pain!"

Seeing that his pleas were in vain, a flash of madness and determination appeared in Yun Zhilan's eyes.

He suddenly shouted, "I'll fight you to the death!"

His inner energy surged wildly like a raging tide, instantly converging on his right fist.

Suddenly, he stood up from the ground, his figure as fast as lightning, carrying an overwhelming momentum, and threw a punch fiercely at Fang Han.

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