“How did you get in here? That old guy’s Cultivation isn’t low—he’s that demonic Xuan’s master, at least late Golden Core Stage! Even if he’s an Xie Xiu and weaker than proper cultivators, his perception can’t be that dull, can it?”
Jiang Che asked curiously.
Wu Qing’s voice carried a hint of relaxed amusement, as if discussing the weather: “Oh, that. I happen to know a little Concealment Secret Art. I slipped right in with no trouble at all.”
Jiang Che’s lips twitched in disbelief.
A secret art? And just a “little” secret art?
If it could fool a late Golden Core Stage cultivator’s senses, then this secret art was anything but “little.”
But now clearly wasn’t the time for an interrogation.
“All right,”
Wu Qing’s tone returned to its usual gentle steadiness, “We shouldn’t stay here any longer. I’ll carry this young lady—we’ll quietly sneak out the back door.”
He paused, then added, “I just checked out this old house. There’s a back door that leads straight to the latrine in the rear courtyard—we can slip out from there.”
Jiang Che nodded.
“Thank you.”
Jiang Che hadn’t expected Wu Qing, a mere Scattered Cultivator, to go so far to help him, so he gave his thanks.
Wu Qing only replied that he wanted to repay a favor he owed Jiang Che.
Before he knew it—maybe he really had been unconscious for a long time—the streets were almost empty, as if midnight had already passed and most people had gone home.
Wu Qing didn’t take Jiang Che out onto the main street, but instead headed for a secluded alley.
Jiang Che thought Wu Qing was afraid of dragging innocent people into this, which made him think even more highly of him.
Only, Jiang Che was starting to feel more and more unwell.
His strength was draining rapidly.
But there was no time to think—he just wanted to get Hu Qiao’er back as quickly as possible.
Wu Qing carried Hu Qiao’er on his back while Jiang Che followed closely. The three of them hurried through a dim alleyway.
The night wind was chilly, yet Jiang Che’s forehead was covered with fine beads of sweat, his breathing growing ragged.
“Little guy, are you all right? Why are you sweating so much?” Wu Qing noticed Jiang Che’s condition and asked in a low voice.
Jiang Che wiped the sweat from his forehead, suppressing the discomfort in his body. “I’m fine. Let’s keep going.”
“Mmm…” At that moment, Hu Qiao’er, on Wu Qing’s back, let out a faint groan and opened her eyes in a daze.
She blinked blankly, then realized she was lying on a strange man’s back in an unfamiliar place. She froze in terror, almost letting out a scream.
“Qiao’er-jie!” Jiang Che noticed right away and hurriedly called out, “It’s me, A’Che! Don’t be afraid!”
Hearing the familiar voice, Hu Qiao’er snapped her head around.
Seeing Jiang Che beside her, she relaxed a little, though her voice still carried sleepiness and lingering fright: “A’Che? What happened to me? Where… are we?”
There was no helping it—Jiang Che could only give her a simple rundown of what had happened.
Meanwhile, in the next room.
Qin Zifeng’s thin fingers finally moved away from the leather-bound book, a glint of clarity flashing in his cloudy old eyes.
He had finally figured out the key to the Soul Search Technique.
He stood up and pushed open the door, ready to deal with those two brats.
However, when he stepped into the room where Jiang Che and Hu Qiao’er had been held, the scene before him made him freeze on the spot.
On the floor, the cut hemp ropes lay scattered, the room empty.
The people were gone!
A rush of anger shot to his head—Qin Zifeng’s beard trembled with fury, his scrawny chest heaving violently, nearly causing him to faint.
A mocking laugh sounded at the door.
At some point, Zhao Zi’ang had arrived, leaning lazily against the door frame, arms crossed as he watched the scene with amusement.
His face showed no sign of anxiety, as if losing two unimportant ants was no big deal.
To him, that little blind brat was no trouble to deal with at all.
He just wanted to make sure nothing could possibly go wrong.
I say, Town Chief Qin, Zhao Zi’ang drawled, his tone dripping with undisguised sarcasm, “Are you really up to this? You can’t even keep two ordinary people, tied up tight, from escaping right under your nose?”
These words were like a needle, stabbing fiercely into Qin Zifeng’s already fraying nerves.
He spun around, his cloudy old eyes locking onto Zhao Zi’ang, killing intent almost tangible in that icy gaze.
Zhao Zi’ang felt his heart skip a beat under that murderous stare—his mocking smile froze instantly and he subconsciously tensed up.
He’d nearly forgotten—this old codger’s Cultivation was a whole realm above his own.
“Hmph!” Qin Zifeng squeezed out a cold snort through his teeth, his voice hoarse and menacing, brooking no argument. “I will capture them myself!”
He paused, staring at Zhao Zi’ang with those cloudy eyes, speaking each word slowly and forcefully:
“I trust, Master Zhao, you haven’t forgotten our agreement!”
……
At this moment, under Jiang Che’s direction, Wu Qing carried Hu Qiao’er on his back and the three of them were rushing toward the Shenxiao Sect.
The night was deep; only the sound of hurried footsteps and their ragged breathing could be heard.
They had already left the small town, making their way along the mountain path to the Shenxiao Sect.
Trees surrounded them on all sides.
Jiang Che’s pace was getting slower, while Wu Qing kept adjusting his speed so Jiang Che could keep up.
“Little guy,” Wu Qing gasped, unable to hold back his question, “That old codger… Qin Zifeng—why would he give up being a proper Town Chief just to become an Xie Xiu? Judging by how he looks, even with demonic Cultivation, he can’t have much longer to live, right?”
Jiang Che followed, his voice weary and tinged with coldness: “It’s not hard to figure out. Shenxiao Town is a mixed bag, full of Scattered Cultivators coming and going. For someone like him, every lone Scattered Cultivator is a perfect target for a demonic cultivator. I just didn’t expect that in only a few short years, by these means, he’d almost reach Nascent Soul Stage.”
“Damn!”
Wu Qing’s voice was full of disbelief and a trace of envy he could barely hide.
“He… he got to Nascent Soul Stage so fast? That’s… honestly, I’m almost tempted myself.”
Wu Qing had cultivated for over twenty years, his mediocre talent stuck at the Foundation Establishment bottleneck.
The agony of being unable to break through made it hard not to feel stirred by talk of such “shortcuts.”
“What are you talking about!” Jiang Che abruptly turned his head, cutting him off sternly.
“The higher you go on the path of demonic cultivation, the greater your hunger for essence and lifespan becomes—like a bottomless pit! In the end, a person becomes nothing but a monster that only knows how to devour! Is that still a person?!”
Just then, Jiang Che suddenly noticed that Hu Qiao’er, riding on Wu Qing’s back, had been unusually silent, almost without a word since she’d woken.
A sliver of unease crossed his mind. He called out tentatively, “Qiao’er-jie?”
Before he could finish, sudden change erupted!
Hu Qiao’er, slumped on Wu Qing’s back, suddenly raised her hand and pulled the hairpin from her hair.
Her black hair tumbled down around her shoulders.
In the instant when both Wu Qing and Jiang Che were caught completely off guard, her eyes empty, her arm filled with desperate determination—she drove the sharp hairpin viciously into Wu Qing’s back!
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