Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 640: Qing Luan’s Present

The steward swallowed hard. His voice trembled as he tried to steady himself.

"I remember the honored lord's words. That no one of the clan's bloodline is to be left alive."

He stepped aside and gestured toward the entrance. Two servants, tense and shaking, carried in a stretcher. Upon it lay Huamu Ye, unconscious, bound tightly with ropes around his wrists and ankles.

A faint herbal scent lingered in the air.

'Sedatives.' Enough to knock out even a cultivator.

Han Yu raised his eyebrow.

The steward hurried to justify himself, speaking fast as if trying to outrun death.

"I thought… honored lord might wish to finish the task without inconvenience. So I brought the young master... no, this 'creature' myself."

Han Yu stared at the steward for several seconds, letting the silence weigh heavily on him. The man's hands shook harder with each passing heartbeat. Then suddenly, Han Yu clapped once, smiling faintly.

The smile only made the steward more terrified.

"You are proactive," Han Yu said with a pleased tone. "I like you."

The steward almost collapsed in relief, a weak smile forming on his lips as he bowed multiple times.

"I will finish the other tasks at once," he said, quickly retreating out the door.

Han Yu looked down at Huamu Ye.

The young master mumbled faintly in his sleep, entirely unaware of the slaughter of his clan, unaware of the ruin surrounding him, unaware that he was now little more than a lamb waiting for the butcher. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Han Yu tapped his cup against his knee thoughtfully.

Killing the man now would be simple, but not satisfying. And more importantly, it would waste an opportunity. Han Yu wanted more than victory. He wanted growth. He wanted Qing Luan to sharpen her heart.

This young master… had tormented others. Had stepped on ordinary people. Had caused suffering with a grin. This was exactly the kind of kill that would be perfect for Qing Luan.

Han Yu smirked.

"Let her have this one," he murmured. "It will ignite her hatred nicely."

He lifted a communication jade slip and infused it with a sliver of spirit qi.

"Qing Luan, come to the Birch Leaf Merchant Clan. Bring everyone. There will be no resistance. The doors are open."

He sent the message and leaned back, sipping more wine.

It did not take long.

Outside the clan, the streets were abuzz. People whispered, gossiped, and feared. The bodies Han Yu had left behind were scattered like macabre decorations. The corpses of the guards, including the core condensation realm cultivator's skewered one, were still lying there.

The blood had soaked into the cracks of the stone road.

Qing Luan and her small group moved through these streets dressed in plain commoner clothes. To any bystander, they looked like nothing more than frightened townsfolk rushing to see what the chaos was about.

But Qing Luan's eyes were sharp, scanning the scene with a mixture of horror and awe. Feng Dugong and Ziyue followed her closely, both stiff with shock at the carnage around them. Fen Mue held Ziyue's sleeve tightly, burying his face in her side whenever he saw a corpse.

The gates of the clan estate stood wide open.

No guards.No challenge.Only silence.

The cultivators in the group felt the lingering scent of burned qi in the air. They stepped inside and immediately smelled ash, blood, and smoke.

Everywhere they looked, they saw burnt skeletons curled in unnatural positions. Blackened limbs. Trace outlines of faces etched into the floor. It was horrifying, and yet Qing Luan found herself unable to look away.

Her breath trembled.

'He did all this… alone?'

The realization filled her with both fear and a strange sense of security. If someone like Han Yu was on her side, then the world that had tormented her might finally pay its dues.

When she entered the main hall, she found Han Yu sitting like an emperor, one leg crossed, a wine cup in hand, drumming his fingers against the armrest.

He smiled calmly.

"Welcome," Han Yu said. "Make yourselves at home."

Fen Dugong blinked in disbelief.

"Home?" he whispered.

Han Yu chuckled and shrugged lightly.

"Of course. This will be your home now. Well… after a few renovations. It is too gaudy for my taste."

Even in the midst of carnage, his tone remained casual.

Ziyue covered her mouth, trembling. Fen Mue hid behind her. Qing Luan looked at the hall, then at Han Yu.

This was no home. This was a throne built from corpses.

But before she could speak, Han Yu lifted his hand.

"Oh, before anything else," he said, "I have a present."

He pointed to the unconscious 'creature' lying on the stretcher.

"Qing Luan," he said, his tone calm yet heavy with meaning, "this one… is for you."

Qing Luan stared at the unconscious Huamu Ye, her breath trembling, her fingers curling and uncurling as if she were suppressing a storm inside her small frame.

She had never imagined Ju Fan would hand her something like this. A living target. The very symbol of the clan that crushed her mother's family, and the very type of person who once looked at people as if they were worthless.

But hearing Han Yu say it was hers to do with as she wished made something deep inside her stir.

Not fear.Not hesitation.Something darker.

A desire that tasted like hot iron on her tongue.

"Really?" Qing Luan asked, her voice thin but sharp. Her eyes gleamed with something feral, something hungry.

Han Yu nodded, entirely calm in contrast to her trembling excitement.

"Of course," he said. "Do whatever you want. If you want him awake, I can arrange that."

Qing Luan swallowed, then nodded.

Han Yu took out a vial made of blackened glass. The liquid inside was thick, almost syrup-like, with a faint bitter smell that made even Fen Ziyue flinch. Han Yu tilted Huamu Ye's head back and dripped two drops into his mouth.

It was actually a poison that forcefully kept a person awake. Han Yu had gotten it back at the sect as payment from a random disciple who was lacking spirit stones and gave this as payment.