Just as that hand was about to touch her shoulder, Luo Qingci made her final move.
She held the iron sword horizontally in front of her, frost condensing on the blade.
Can’t escape, can’t fight—then I’ll kill myself.
Better than falling into this old bastard’s hands.
The iron sword rested against her neck, the sharp edge pressed against her skin. The icy touch sent a shiver through her.
That pale hand froze midair, less than a foot from her shoulder.
“Oh?”
The old man raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise in his gray pupils.
“Thinking of killing yourself? Do you think you can die in front of me?”
A surge of boundless spiritual power exploded from his body, transforming into an invisible pressure that crashed down like a mountain.
Luo Qingci’s wrist was locked by that force.
The iron sword rested against her neck, but she could no longer cut—couldn’t even move a single finger.
“Just a Foundation Establishment cultivator, and you dare to seek death before me.”
He withdrew his hand, clasped it behind his back, and looked down at her.
“Don’t rush. I’m not done playing yet.”
Luo Qingci gritted her teeth, struggling with all her might, but that invisible force clamped down like iron pliers around her limbs, her wrists, every joint—immobilizing her completely.
Her eyes turned red.
Not from tears, but from rage.
“If you dare touch me, my master won’t let you off.”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but every word was heavy with determination.
“Your master?”
Gray Bone Ancestor laughed.
The sound echoed through the sewer like a night owl’s call.
“Who is your master? An elder of the Azure Cloud Sect? A personal disciple of some Peak Master?”
“Peak Master of Lingyun Peak, Xiao Yan.”
The laughter stopped.
Gray Bone Ancestor’s gray pupils contracted slightly.
Lingyun Peak.
Xiao Yan.
That name was quite famous in the Eastern State.
Very strong.
But…
Gray Bone Ancestor was silent for a moment, then the corners of his mouth slowly curled up again.
“So what if it’s Xiao Yan? He doesn’t know you’re here.”
He crouched down, his gray eyes level with Luo Qingci’s.
“Little girl, do you think I’d be afraid just because you mentioned your master’s name?”
He pulled a gray rope from his sleeve.
Made of some unknown material, it emitted a decaying aura, and faint runes could be seen flowing across its surface.
The Spirit Binding Rope.
A magical artifact specifically used to seal a cultivator’s spiritual power.
Tied with this thing, even a Golden Core cultivator would have to surrender, let alone a Foundation Establishment cultivator.
“Once you become my cultivation vessel and help me break through to Nascent Soul, even if your master comes, all he can do is watch.”
Luo Qingci watched the rope close in on her, her teeth grinding audibly.
She wasn’t afraid of death.
When the iron sword was at her neck just now, she had even felt relieved.
Dying meant no more worrying about her physique, the engagement, the covetous eyes—no more worrying about what kind of monster she might become.
If she was caught by this old man and became his cultivation vessel, her life would be over.
Not the kind of “over” that meant death.
The kind worse than death.
That’s why she wanted to die.
But now she couldn’t even do that.
The Spirit Binding Rope wrapped around her wrist once.
Its cold, slippery touch coiled around her like a snake.
The runes on the rope lit up with a gray-white glow.
She felt the spiritual power in her dantian being sealed layer by layer, like water under ice—frozen, unable to flow.
Luo Qingci closed her eyes.
She didn’t want to see that old man’s smug smile.
Didn’t want to see the rope winding around her body.
Didn’t want to know what was coming next.
She would be locked away in some unknown place, turned into a tool for cultivation.
No one would ever find her.
Her eyes reddened.
“No, no, no, no, no!”
“I won’t let this happen!”
Luo Qingci’s voice exploded through the sewer.
Not a cry for help.
Not a plea for mercy.
A roar.
The Spirit Binding Rope tightened around her wrist.
The light of the runes grew brighter.
The feeling of having her spiritual power sealed was like someone strangling her neck, tightening bit by bit until breathing became difficult.
The hand reached out to her again.
The dry, shriveled fingertips nearly touched her cheek.
“Good, good.”
He laughed.
His gray pupils reflected Luo Qingci’s face, twisted with anger and fear.
“That’s the look.”
“This is my favorite kind of look.”
Luo Qingci wanted to vomit.
Not a metaphor.
Genuine nausea.
Bile rose to her throat, and she forced it back down.
She wouldn’t throw up in front of this old man.
Wouldn’t show any sign of weakness.
Wouldn’t let him think she was already defeated.
The rope wrapped around her wrist a second time.
Her spiritual power was almost completely sealed.
The icy blue vortex in her dantian slowed like a clock about to stop.
The old man’s fingers touched her chin.
Cold.
Rough.
Like dried tree bark.
Luo Qingci clenched her teeth so hard they ground together.
The next second—
That stinking old man flew backward.
The person who had been crouching in front of her, whose fingers still rested on her chin, who had just said “This is my favorite kind of look”—
Gone.
In his place stood a young man.
Her mind hadn’t even registered what had happened.
“Are you okay?”
Luo Qingci froze.
“Xiao Han?”
Foundation Establishment?
No.
A Foundation Establishment cultivator couldn’t have elbowed a Golden Core True Person into the air.
Luo Qingci’s spiritual sense probed him.
The moment it touched him, it felt like crashing into a mountain.
Not the kind of impact that bounced back—
The kind where you stand before a mountain, reach out to push it, and the mountain doesn’t move, you don’t move, but you know it’s bigger than you, taller, heavier, and has existed far longer than you.
Golden Core…
No…
Dude?
Haven’t seen you in a few months, and you went from Qi Refining to Golden Core?
Are you even human?
Luo Qingci stared at him, her lips parting.
Her voice was small.
“You…”
“Passing by,” he said.
Passing by?
Ha ha.
What a coincidence.
“A mere early-stage Golden Core brat dares to disturb me?”
Gray Bone Ancestor climbed to his feet.
“I am Gray Bone Ancestor, who has been in the Golden Core stage for a hundred years!”
“Are you ready to die?!”
But to his surprise, the cultivator across from him showed no fear at all.
Instead, he nodded in agreement and echoed,
“Mm-hmm.”
“Are you ready to die?”
Gray Bone Ancestor: ?
Wait.
What did he say?
Did he just ask if he was ready to die?
Have you been drinking too much?
That thought had barely surfaced when he felt a scorching-hot spiritual power entering his body.
Flames erupted.
Spiritual energy overflowed.
Xiao Han’s movement was so fast it was almost imperceptible—
Swift as fire.
Momentum like a swimming dragon.
But Xiao Han didn’t use a killing move.
The force behind his elbow wasn’t heavy.
Still, when it slammed into the old man, it sent him flying a considerable distance with a piercing scream.
Body Cultivation!
And a Golden Core-stage body cultivator!
Among the countless cultivators, sword cultivators and body cultivators were the most headache-inducing.
Sword cultivators specialized in offense.
One sword breaks ten thousand techniques.
You never know how powerful a sword cultivator’s next strike will be.
Body cultivators specialized in defense.
One body breaks ten thousand arts.
You never know how thick their health bar is.
Both shared one common trait:
They were dirt poor.
And they basically looked down on each other.
Sword cultivators thought body cultivators were muscle-headed, broke idiots.
Body cultivators thought sword cultivators were glass cannons with high attack and low defense.
One required massive amounts of spirit stones and resources to nurture their sword.
The other needed countless heavenly treasures to temper their body.
Gray Bone Ancestor stood up from the rubble.
His gray robe was soaked in mud.
His left shoulder, struck by Xiao Han’s elbow, had caved in.
Bones ground together with an unpleasant scraping sound.
He looked down at his twisted shoulder, grabbed it, and twisted it back into place with a crack.
“Body cultivator.”
Gray Bone Ancestor shook his arm.
His gray pupils had gone completely cold.
“No wonder you’re so cocky.”
He had lived for over three hundred years and had seen too many arrogant young people.
Practice body techniques for a few years.
Think you can punch through the heavens.
Then die miserably.
No matter how strong a body cultivator was, they were still close-range fighters.
He was a spell cultivator.
All he needed was distance to crush them.
Xiao Han took one step forward.
Gray Bone Ancestor instinctively leaped backward, turning into a gray blur that drifted over ten zhang away.
After two hundred years as a wandering cultivator, he had been both prey and hunter.
He knew the first rule of fighting a body cultivator:
Never let them get close.
But when he landed—
Xiao Han was already standing in front of him.
Not teleportation.
Not a movement technique.
He had simply walked over.
One step.
The ten-zhang distance vanished as if it had never existed.
Gray Bone Ancestor’s pupils shrank.
Too fast!
Even the strongest body cultivator would leave traces.
Spiritual power flow.
Muscle exertion.
Even the rhythm of breathing would reveal their next move.
But Xiao Han had none of those tells.
When he moved, he was like a ball of flame.
You only knew it was burning toward you.
You couldn’t see how it got there.
Gray Bone Ancestor bit the tip of his tongue, spat a mouthful of essence blood into his palm, and formed hand seals at lightning speed.
Gray spiritual light exploded from his body.
A ring of bone walls rose from the ground, encasing him completely.
The bone walls were covered in sharp spikes, each one coated with gray-white poisonous mist.
Bone Prison.
One of his life-saving techniques.
He had used this move three times before.
It had saved his life three times.
Below Nascent Soul, no one could break through this wall within one incense stick’s time.
And one incense stick was enough for him to unleash his ultimate secret technique.
Gray Bone Ancestor pulled a gray bone talisman from his sleeve and pressed it to his chest.
The runes on the talisman lit up.
A cold spiritual power flowed into his meridians, repairing his broken ribs and refilling his depleted dantian.
This was his final trump card.
A life talisman condensed from a hundred years of cultivation.
Using it would drop his cultivation by a minor level.
But living was more important than cultivation.
“You little brat…”
He panted.
His gray pupils glared at Xiao Han through the gaps in the bone wall.
“Once I catch my breath, I’ll refine you into a bone puppet and trap your soul forever—”
He didn’t finish.
The bone wall shattered.
Not broken by force.
Burned through.
“I thought it was a speed bump.”
Xiao Han’s right hand rested against the bone wall.
Flames flickered in his palm, so hot that even the air began to distort.
The gray-white poisonous mist evaporated like snow meeting boiling water, without even a struggle.
The Bone Prison, which he claimed was unbreakable below Nascent Soul, was as fragile as paper before those flames.
“Impossible!”
“A hundred years of bitter cultivation!”
Xiao Han smiled faintly and casually sealed his cultivation.
Hilarious.
A hundred years of bitter cultivation?
Others advanced by scrambling for heavenly treasures, their power shaky and unstable.
But my power was built step by step through the system, a foundation solid as rock.
All you had to do was fight tooth and nail to advance your cultivation.
But I had more to consider.
Like how to earn points, and where to allocate them…
How could a mere hundred years of bitter cultivation compare to my persistence and hard work?
You have your Innate Dao Body, your Chaos Saint Body.
Isn’t my Innate System Body also a gift?
How many people know of my effort and sweat?
My diligence?
Gray Bone Ancestor stepped back three paces.
His lips trembled, unable to form a single word.
He didn’t know what kind of monster he was facing.
But he knew one thing.
He probably wouldn’t be leaving today.
“Oh, right.”
Xiao Han seemed to remember something and tilted his head toward him.
“You said earlier that you haven’t had enough fun yet?”
Gray Bone Ancestor’s face turned deathly pale.
“Qingci, come here a moment.”
“Me?”
Luo Qingci looked at him in confusion.
Aren’t you going to kill him?
Why keep him alive?
And why call me over?
“Yes, you.”
“Go over and slap him twice.”
“Play with him.”
“It’s fine if you play him to death.”
Luo Qingci froze for a moment.
Then suddenly smiled.
“Alright.”
When Luo Qingci walked over, it was as if she wasn’t approaching a Golden Core True Person who had wanted to refine her into a cultivation vessel just moments ago—
But a piece of meat on a chopping block.
Gray Bone Ancestor lay on the ground.
A crack stretched from his forehead to his cheekbone.
Gray blood smeared half his face.
His eyes could still move.
His pupils tracked the tip of Luo Qingci’s boot like a snake whose tail had been stepped on.
Still wanting to bite.
But his body was no longer under his control.
“How dare you…”
His voice was hoarse, barely audible.
Gray-black bloody foam bubbled from his mouth.
“I am a Golden Core True Person…”
“You, a mere Foundation Establishment, dare to humiliate me—”
Luo Qingci stopped in front of him.
Looked down at him.
She had never imagined she would end up in a sewer, tied up by a gray-robed old man with a Spirit Binding Rope, almost turned into a cultivation vessel.
She had never imagined that a young man would descend from nowhere, beat this old man into a ragged doll, and then tell her:
Go slap him twice.
Luo Qingci bent down until their eyes were level.
“You said you liked that look in my eyes the most?”
Gray Bone Ancestor’s pupils trembled.
Luo Qingci smiled.
She thrust the iron sword into the ground, freed her right hand, and swung her arm in a full arc.
Smack!
The slap echoed through the sewer.
Gray Bone Ancestor’s head snapped to the side.
Several gray teeth flew out of his mouth and landed in the muddy water with soft plops.
Luo Qingci shook her hand.
Her palm stung fiercely.
But it felt exhilarating.
She slapped him again.
“A hundred years of cultivation and still stuck at Golden Core?”
“You waste!”
“And you wanted to make me your cultivation vessel!”
“I’d rather fall for a dog than for a waste like you!”
“A rotten Golden Core cultivator calling yourself an ancestor?”
“Who do you think you are?!”
The other side of Gray Bone Ancestor’s face swelled up as well.
His head looked like a moldy steamed bun.
Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth and nostrils.
Finally, his expression changed.
Not anger.
Not defiance.
But fear.
Absolute terror.
He realized he might really die here.
Not some glorious death.
Not being slain by a peerless expert with one sword strike.
But in a sewer.
Slowly slapped to death by a mere Foundation Establishment girl.
His spiritual power was sealed.
He was no different from a mortal now.
His mouth was swollen from the spiritual-power-infused slaps.
He couldn’t even beg for mercy.
Luo Qingci clapped her hands, looked at the old man whose head she had slapped crooked, and let out a soft breath.
Satisfied.
When I get back, I need to wash my hands a dozen times.
No…
My whole body needs to be washed a dozen times!