Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 735: Returning To The Sect

By the afternoon of the fifteenth day since they had left White Peacock Town, the caravan finally reached a massive crossroads.

The land here flattened out, the road widening and splitting into two major arteries. One led northeast, toward the White Cloud City, marked clearly by stone pillars engraved with cloud patterns and trade sigils. The other stretched southward and slightly west, cutting through hills and forests toward the territory controlled by the Slaughtered Moon Divine Blood Sect.

The caravan slowed and eventually came to a halt.

This was where they would part.

Han Yu stood near the front of the caravan, his gaze resting on the road that led back to the sect. He could feel a familiar pull in his chest, a mixture of anticipation and unease. He had been away for far too long. Far longer than he had planned.

Qing Luan dismounted from her carriage and walked up beside him, her cloak fluttering lightly in the afternoon breeze.

"So this is it," she said quietly.

Han Yu nodded. "From here, our paths split."

She looked toward the road leading to White Cloud City, then back at him. "You really cannot stay even a little longer?"

Han Yu smiled faintly. "If I delay any more, I might return to find my cave looted, my assistants starved, and my name already buried under a pile of accusations."

Qing Luan snorted softly. "You make it sound dramatic."

"It usually is," Han Yu replied calmly.

They stood there for a moment, watching as guards adjusted the caravan formation and stewards finalized their preparations. The atmosphere was busy, but subdued, as if everyone understood that this was a point of transition.

Han Yu spoke again. "Keep in contact. Let me know if anything unusual happens. Especially with the clans, or with large shifts in trade prices."

Qing Luan nodded firmly. "I will. And as we discussed, I will begin setting up trade outposts for herbs. Even if the deal with White Cloud City does not go as well as expected, the groundwork will still be there."

Han Yu felt a small measure of relief at that.

During their travels, they had gone over the plan in detail. The Fen Clan would act as an intermediary, sourcing herbs through layers of brokers and smaller merchants, none of whom would know the final destination. Payments would be spread out, quantities divided, and records intentionally muddied.

It was not foolproof, but it was far better than Han Yu dealing with random merchants himself.

"Remember," Han Yu said, his tone serious now. "Never use your own people directly for the actual transactions. Keep everything obfuscated. If the sect ever becomes suspicious, they must never find a straight line leading back to you."

Qing Luan smiled slightly. "I know. I have already planned for that. Even if someone investigates, all they will find are fragmented deals, unrelated traders, and inconsistent numbers. We also have plenty of small time vendors or merchants who had dealings with the Birch Leaf Merchant group. We can always use them as fall guys."

Han Yu studied her expression for a moment, then nodded. "Good. Still, be careful. Do not push too hard. I do not want you drawing danger onto yourself because of my affairs."

Her eyes softened briefly. "I will be careful. You should worry more about yourself, Honored Lord"

Han Yu chuckled. "That has never worked out well for me."

With that, there was little left to say.

They exchanged a final look, one that carried far more unspoken meaning than either would admit aloud. Then Qing Luan turned and walked back toward her carriage, issuing quiet instructions to the stewards. The caravan began to move again, wheels creaking as it slowly took the road toward White Cloud City.

Han Yu remained standing at the crossroads until the long line of carriages and guards disappeared into the distance.

Then he turned.

WHOOSH

With a single step, he launched himself into the air.

Chitterfang squeaked softly and scrambled up onto his shoulder, gripping his robe with tiny paws as the ground dropped away beneath them.

"Hold on," Han Yu muttered as he landed on the Halberd.

The wind rushed past him as he accelerated, spirit Qi surging through his body. He flew low at first, following the road until it curved out of sight, then climbed higher, angling directly toward the distant mountains, beyond where the sect lay hidden.

He did not slow down.

He did not stop.

Day and night blurred together as he flew relentlessly, consuming spirit stones and Qi replenishing pills without hesitation. His reserves dipped again and again, only to be restored moments later. Ten days passed like this, the world beneath him changing from plains to hills, then to the familiar terrain surrounding the sect.

A few kilometers from the sect's outer boundary, Han Yu finally slowed. He could now see the Bloody Moon high in the sky and its gloomy atmosphere.

He landed on a rocky outcrop and took a moment to adjust himself. With practiced ease, he changed into the proper crimson and black robes of the Slaughtered Moon Divine Blood Sect. His posture shifted subtly, his expression hardening as he slipped fully back into the persona of Ju Fan.

Cold.

Fierce.

Composed.

Chitterfang was tucked securely inside his robes, peeking out just enough to observe the world.

Han Yu approached the massive gates of the sect on foot.

The guards barely spared him a glance. He flashed his disciple token, and the formalities were completed in seconds. The true inspection, the silent probing of formation arrays and hidden detection methods, passed without issue.

The gates opened.

Han Yu stepped inside.

The moment he crossed the threshold, his spirit sense spread outward, extending to its full range. He scanned the surrounding area carefully, searching for any signs of surveillance, hidden observers, or hostile intent.

There was nothing.

Disciples moved about their business. Elders passed overhead on flying treasures. Servants hurried between buildings. Everything appeared… normal.

Too normal.

Zhao Liumen had done nothing.

No ambushes. No assassins. No sudden accusations.