In Emei, start by obtaining golden attributes.

Chapter 150, the real highlight, is here.

With Yang Xiao dead, Gu Shaoan sheathed the Heaven-Slaying Sword in his hand, walked slowly to Abbess Miejue and smiled, "Congratulations, Master, on killing your enemy and achieving your wish."

Abbess Juechen smiled and said, "Congratulations, Senior Sister."

Looking at the two people in front of her, even Abbess Miejue couldn't help but smile and nod, though her eyes unconsciously became a little more glistening.

The enmity between Yang Xiao and the Ming Cult has been like a persistent ailment plastered on Abbess Miejue's heart for years, tormenting her every day.

However, her strength and status forced Abbess Miejue to suppress all of this in her heart.

Only she herself can truly understand the feelings involved.

Now that his long-cherished wish has been fulfilled, most of the heavy resentment and hatred weighing on his heart have dissipated.

It gave Abbess Miejue a sense of exhilaration, as if she had escaped from a cage and her shackles had been removed.

Even my body and mind felt lighter.

Turning her head to look at the shocking sword mark on the ground, Abbess Miejue smiled and said, "Indeed, the Heaven-Slaying Sword is much stronger in your hands than in mine."

Knowing what "extinction" referred to, Gu Shaoan smiled but did not refute it.

For martial artists, powerful weapons are a great asset.

For someone like Gu Shaoan, even without the help of the Heaven-Slaying Sword, he could still unleash that sword strike with an ordinary blade, but it would consume far more of his true essence.

On the Ming Cult's side, witnessing Yang Xiao's death, the rest of the Ming Cult members turned ashen-faced, knowing that they had no ability to resist the six major sects.

"Dad~"

At the front of the Ming Cult, Ji Xiaofu and Yang Xiao's daughter, Yang Buhui, screamed and rushed towards Yang Xiao's corpse.

Her face was already streaked with tears.

"Whoosh-!"

However, just as Yang Buhui had run less than three zhang, a sudden whooshing sound pierced the air.

Gu Shaoan, Miejue, and Juechen almost simultaneously activated their true essence and looked up toward the source of the sound.

The moment they looked up, the three of them saw a long, thin, jet-black arrow pierce the air, then pierce Yang Buhui's back with perfect precision, before emerging from the tattered clothes on his chest.

It brought out a small, eerie cloud of blood and some fragmented soft tissue.

"Ugh..."

Yang Buhui's body trembled violently, and she stopped abruptly.

She stiffly tried to look down at her chest, but when she saw the bloodstains spreading rapidly across her chest, Yang Buhui turned around, as if trying to see clearly who had shot her from behind.

But before his body could fully twist, he slowly collapsed to the ground.

The incident happened so suddenly that even Gu Shaoan was slightly stunned, let alone the others.

The next second, a figure suddenly sprang up from the Ming Cult crowd and leaped over a group of Ming Cult disciples, arriving between the two groups in a few bounds.

The Ming Cult members looked closely and discovered that this person was a flag envoy of the Thick Earth Flag among the Five Elements Flags of the Ming Cult, named Xue Yong.

Once he was standing still, Xue Yong immediately bowed and clasped his hands in greeting.

Whether intentionally or unintentionally, he revealed the quiver of arrows strapped to his right arm.

How could Song Yuanqiao and the six major sects, including Abbess Miejue, not know that it was this person who had just fired the hidden arrow?

As for their purpose, Gu Shaoan and Miejue quickly came to a guess.

As expected, after bowing, Xue Yong said in a clear and concise manner, "I am willing to withdraw from the Demonic Sect and have no further connection with it. This is my sincerity. I hope that the sect leaders will have mercy and let me off the hook."

The sound was especially clear atop the silent mountain.

After the Ming Cult members realized what was happening, several of them immediately spoke up.

"Xue Yong! You shameless coward who clings to life and fears death."

"Bah! You dare to betray your friends for survival, a treacherous and disloyal scoundrel!"

"The Ming Cult has no place for a dog like you!"

"kill him."

A series of furious curses erupted from the Ming Cult members like thunderclaps.

Those cult members who had just looked ashen-faced now had intense shame, anger, and murderous intent flashing in their eyes.

They may be powerless against the six major factions, but they still have a shred of courage in their bones and cannot tolerate such a despicable betrayal by their comrades.

Meanwhile, many Ming Cult disciples also showed thoughtful expressions after seeing Xue Yong's actions.

However, the man called Xue Yong ignored the angry curses from the many Ming Cult disciples and rushed to the side, bypassing the people from the six major sects, and flew towards the entrance on the mountaintop.

Faced with Xue Yong's actions, Song Yuanqiao and the other sect leaders, including Master Kongzhi, exchanged glances, then tacitly looked away without saying a word, letting Xue Yong move towards the exit leading down the mountain.

Even Abbess Miejue and Abbess Juechen remained unmoved by Xue Yong's departure.

It's not that the two of them don't want to.

In the past, someone as despicable as Xue Yong, who resorted to underhanded tactics, would have been killed without hesitation, regardless of whether it was Abbess Miejue or Abbess Juechen.

But not today.

It was also because of the indifference of the six major sects that Xue Yong rushed all the way to the entrance of the mountaintop and finally disappeared from everyone's sight.

This gate, which was allowed to be opened, seemed to instantly drain the last bit of cohesion from the Ming Cult ranks.

The shouts and curses, which had been rising and falling just moments before, gradually subsided and died down.

Instead, a heavy, suffocating silence pervaded the remaining followers.

Many people's eyes followed those departing figures, their expressions extremely complex.

There is contempt for the traitors, despair for reality, but more than anything, there is a glimpse of another possible struggle.

Xue Yong's "success" is like a boulder thrown into stagnant water, stirring up countless ripples of struggle for survival.

The second, the third, the fourth
More and more Ming Cult disciples, after a brief but seemingly endless period of hesitation and inner torment, gritted their teeth and, as if finally convincing themselves, stepped out of the crowd.

Most of them kept their heads down, not daring to look at their former companions, much less at the corpses of Yin Tianzheng and Yang Xiao in front of the altar.

They staggered around to the side of the six major sects' formation, facing Song Yuanqiao, Kongzhi, He Taichong, and others. Some clasped their hands haphazardly, while others simply bowed deeply. Their movements were stiff and hurried, even showing a hint of undisguised fear and embarrassment.

"I am willing to leave the Ming Cult."

"I am willing to leave the Ming Cult, and I hope you will spare my life."

They mumbled similar words, not daring to linger, as if standing for even a second longer would be torture. Like arrows released from a bow, they followed in the footsteps of their predecessors, rushing madly toward the only gate of life—the road leading down the mountain.

One, two, ten, a hundred.
After a stick of incense had burned, the Ming Cult forces scattered like ants breaching a dam.

On the Emei Sect's side, after all the elders and disciples arrived at Gu Shaoan, Abbess Miejue, and Abbess Juechen's side, Zhou Zhiruo watched the fleeing figures, a complex emotion flashing across her clear eyes.

After a moment, Zhou Zhiruo sighed softly, "That's fine too."

Yang Yan, standing beside her, nodded, her tone tinged with relief and a hint of barely perceptible relief: "Yes, this saves so much unnecessary killing. After all, it's all human life."

Their thoughts were also the reason why Abbess Miejue and Song Yuanqiao did not stop Xue Yong from leaving.

There were still several thousand Ming Cult disciples remaining in the square. Although most of them were injured and their morale had plummeted, everyone understood the principle of a cornered beast fighting to the death.

If thousands of people are completely desperate and launch a desperate counterattack, even if the six major factions win, they will pay an extremely heavy price.

Moreover, as a prestigious and righteous sect, no one wants to bear the stigma of "extermination" or "indiscriminate killing of prisoners."

Forcing them to commit suicide and surrender would be the most "dignified" and advantageous outcome.

The departure of the crowds took away the deafening noise, but left behind an empty, lifeless silence.

When the fleeing figures finally thinned out and disappeared completely at the mountain pass, the huge Bright Summit Plaza, as if washed away by an invisible flood, became incredibly empty.

Before the sacred fire altar, the place that symbolized the last vestige of dignity and resistance of the Ming Cult, only a few dozen figures remained. Without exception, all of these people were middle-aged men in their forties or fifties.

Their faces were etched with the marks of time and weariness, and more than half of them had blood on their clothes, bearing injuries of varying degrees.

Some people could only stand by leaning on their broken weapons, while others supported each other, their bodies swaying precariously.

Their eyes were cloudy and numb, yet they carried a strange, almost frozen calm, as if they had already seen through everything.

Just then, a Ming Cult disciple slowly walked to the altar in the square.

Looking up at the altar with its burning flames, as if drawn by a magnet, they silently focused on the sacred fire altar that had burned for countless years, witnessing the rise and fall of the Ming Cult, their eyes filled with a color that outsiders could hardly understand.

A few breaths later, the Ming Cult disciple slowly sat down beside the altar.

Led by this person, the other disciples who had not left the Ming Cult also slowly walked to the edge of the altar and sat together in a circle.

After dozens of people had all sat down, one of the Ming Cult disciples, who had lost an arm, slowly raised his head, first looked at the distant sky, and then closed his eyes.

His lips moved slightly, and from his parched throat came an extremely hoarse, intermittent groan, like sandpaper scraping:

"The sacred fire burns my broken body."

The sound was faint, yet it possessed a peculiar penetrating power, breaking the deathly silence.

Then, the voices of dozens of others around him, equally weathered by life's hardships, merged into a low, slow, yet inexplicably sorrowful chant:

"Burn my remains, in the blazing holy fire; what joy is there in life? What sorrow in death? For the sake of good and the elimination of evil, only for the sake of light. Joy and sorrow, all return to dust."

The last two lines, repeated again and again, grew slower and slower, yet more focused, like a heavy elegy striking the cold, hard flagstones, echoing throughout the empty, desolate square. With each line uttered, their faces grew paler, their eyes dimmed, but their bodies seemed to straighten slightly in the midst of this mournful lament.

Just as the last syllable of the sentence was still trembling slightly in the air and had not yet dissipated, each of the dozens of Ming Cult disciples suddenly had a spurt of blood erupt from their chests.

Immediately, his entire body collapsed like a withered tree that had lost its support, his head drooped, and he fell silent.

They severed their own heart meridians, choosing to live and die with the Ming Cult.

The entire Bright Summit was plunged into a silence deeper than death; even the sound of breathing seemed to have vanished.

Many disciples from the six major factions, regardless of how much they usually hated the Ming Cult, now had mixed feelings as they looked at the Ming Cult disciples who had committed suicide around the altar.

It's not shameful to let go of some things; after all, it's for the sake of living.

They would rather give up their lives than abandon their identity as disciples of the Ming Cult and choose to live and die with the Ming Cult.

Even if most people couldn't do such a thing, it wouldn't stop them from admiring these people.

On Bright Summit, the so-called sacred fire still burns, but of those who witnessed it, some fled in panic, some died heroically in battle, and some faced death in sorrow.

After a while, Abbess Miejue shifted her gaze from these people and suddenly looked at Yang Buhui, who was lying on the ground to the side.

His eyes also held a hint of complexity.

"Perhaps this is fate!"

Beside her, Abbess Juechen noticed that Gu Shaoan hadn't spoken for a long time.

Turning her head, she saw Gu Shaoan's gaze slowly sweeping over the surroundings.

After a moment's thought, Abbess Juechen spread her true essence and asked, "Now that the Ming Cult has been destroyed, the person behind it has not yet appeared. Could it be that their purpose was simply to destroy the Ming Cult?"

Abbess Miejue, Zhou Zhiruo, and Yang Yan all looked at Gu Shaoan.

Meeting their gazes, Gu Shaoan replied, "If their goal was simply to destroy the Ming Cult, they wouldn't have gone to such lengths to deliberately leak the news of the six major sects' siege of the Ming Cult beforehand, so that the Ming Cult could take precautions."

"Judging from their actions, their previous schemes seemed more like an attempt to weaken both the six major sects and the Ming Cult. Their purpose was probably not that simple."

Almost as soon as Gu Shaoan finished speaking, several figures slowly ascended from the mountaintop entrance.

Just as the leader's feet touched the stone slab at the top of the mountain, Gu Shaoan looked up, sensing something.

The moment Gu Shaoan's gaze fell upon Zhao Min and the people behind her, he understood.

The real highlight of this siege of Bright Peak by the six major sects has arrived.

Immediately afterwards, Abbess Miejue, Abbess Juechen, and the people from the other six major sects all noticed Zhao Min and her group who had suddenly come up the mountain.

Despite being stared at by thousands of people at the same time, Zhao Min acted as if she were in her own backyard, fanning herself with a folding fan and looking around.

Her bright and captivating eyes always held a fresh curiosity, like watching a play, and even a hint of detached amusement. Paired with her exquisitely beautiful face, which was deliberately disguised as a man, she truly resembled a noble young master from a prominent family who was unaware of the dangers of the world and had just arrived.

She moved with light steps and a hint of nonchalance as she approached the dozens of Ming Cult elders who had committed suicide while sitting around the sacred fire altar.

His gaze swept over the circle of lifeless bodies around the altar, and he shook his head, clicking his tongue twice.

"Why bother? If you survive, find a place to hide, practice martial arts diligently to build up your strength, and then secretly plot for decades. Who knows, you might still have a chance to avenge yourself? Committing suicide now means you have no hope at all. It's really stupid."

She dragged out the melody, her voice clear and crisp like pearls falling on a jade plate, which sounded particularly jarring in the oppressive environment, causing the people from the six major sects on Bright Peak to frown.

After commenting on the Ming Cult disciples who had committed suicide, Zhao Min glanced around.

Then, as if she had discovered something new and interesting, Zhao Min's gaze, which had been briefly catching her eye, suddenly stopped and then returned to Gu Shaoan.

Looking at Gu Shaoan, whose appearance and temperament were both outstanding, Zhao Min seemed to have become interested.

After looking Gu Shaoan up and down for a few moments, he took the initiative to speak: "You are Gu Shaoan of the Emei Sect?"

In response to Zhao Min's question, Gu Shaoan replied calmly, "Indeed, may I ask what advice you may have for me, young lady?"

Zhao Min closed her folding fan and asked, "I heard that the Green-Winged Bat King Wei Yixiao couldn't even last a single move against you, is that true?"

To be honest, if Gu Shaoan didn't know Zhao Min's character well, he might have really thought that the person standing in front of him was just a naive woman who had just entered the martial arts world.

In response, Gu Shaoan said softly, "Don't you think you should reveal your identity before asking your question?"

Zhao Min smiled and said, "Since you know I am a woman, doesn't it seem a bit impolite of you, Young Master Gu, to ask my name on our first meeting?"

Gu Shaoan's expression remained unchanged: "If we're really talking about impoliteness, it's your uninvited arrival and your disregard for the six major sects that's truly impolite!"

"Tsk tsk!"

Zhao Min looked Gu Shaoan up and down.

"Good-looking, and surprisingly eloquent; that's quite interesting."

Seeing that Zhao Min was speaking evasively, He Taichong of the Kunlun Sect couldn't help but speak up: "This trip is about the affairs of our six major sects and the Ming Cult. If you are not members of the Ming Cult, please leave quickly to avoid misunderstandings."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Min turned her head and glanced at He Taichong, who had spoken.

He then looked at He Taichong with interest and asked, "What if I don't want to leave? What are you going to do then?"

Upon hearing this, He Taichong's face suddenly darkened.

But just as he was about to speak, He Taichong's gaze suddenly swept over the five people standing behind Zhao Min, and a hint of apprehension flashed in his eyes.

As the leader of a faction, He Taichong was by no means a fool.

The four people behind Zhao Min, along with a Tibetan monk, were clearly not ordinary people.

Given Zhao Min and the others' demeanor, and without knowing their identities, He Taichong dared not go too far.

"Ah!"

Looking at He Taichong's hesitant expression, Zhao Min let out a disdainful sound.

He then gently lifted the folding fan he had closed.

"Senior Lu!"

Almost the instant the words left his mouth, Lu Zhangke, who had been standing quietly behind Zhao Min, shot out like a ghost, his target pointing directly at He Taichong, who was standing a few feet away, still exuding the majesty of a sect leader.

Let alone ordinary disciples of the six major sects, even the elders of the six major sects could only catch a blurry afterimage.

As he drew nearer, Lu Zhangke raised his right hand and struck out with a palm. As his true essence condensed, a visible pale, chilling aura swirled around his palm.

Even though they were still some distance apart, He Taichong could already feel a biting cold wind rushing towards him.

　I've been stuck on Yang Buhui's part for ages, deleting and rewriting. Killing him directly wouldn't be right, nor would letting him go, so this is the final solution! The next chapter will still be around 8 PM! Sigh! I always seem to run into minor issues while writing, and if I don't handle them well, it just doesn't feel right. Please forgive me!
　　
　
(End of this chapter)