Chapter 133 – The Task Is Complete, Drawn into the Mass Grave’s Ghost Domain - Part 3

A sudden downpour hammered the streets, but just as quickly as it began, it ceased. Twilight deepened, and then, surprisingly, the clouds parted to reveal a bright moon overhead. Its pale light glimmered in the puddles scattered throughout the city, the water reflecting silver ripples.

From his vantage point, Li Yuan noticed a small restaurant across the way and decided on a proper meal, two plates of local stir-fry and a bowl of rice. Halfway through his meal, one of the white finches he’d sent out to keep watch caught sight of a figure whose combat power displayed 350~388. Plus, the person’s short stature was a dead giveaway. It had to be Zhao Xiantong.

Over the past year and a half, Zhao Xiantong’s power level had gone up by 10 points or so—nothing drastic, but a noteworthy increase. Confirming his location, Li Yuan silently commanded the white finch to continue its surveillance. Then he scraped the remaining dishes onto his rice, finished his food quickly, and rose to follow.

Meanwhile, his second white finch was still tailing Ming Shu. The young lady of the Mountain Gang seemed oddly calm as she stood under the moonlight, ignoring the escorts’ anxious demands for her to hurry up and lead them to the vault. No matter how they tried to persuade her, she remained unflappable.

Not long afterward, soft footsteps echoed in a nearby alley. Zhao Xiantong appeared, wearing a catlike grin that suggested he was ready to toy with his prey. He spared a glance at Blood Scissors, who returned a meaningful look. Both men understood they were about to see which way Ming Shu would run.

A flash of recognition flickered across Zhao Xiantong’s face as he saw her. Deep down, there was something oddly familiar about this woman. Having reached sixth rank, his senses and memory had improved significantly. Though not infallible, he could usually remember a face once he’d seen it.

Is it just my imagination, or have I really met her before?

he wondered. Yet, with Ming Shu already sprinting away, he didn’t have time to sort through his memories. He chased after her, planning to wait until she revealed the vault before striking.

The rest of her hired escorts trailed closely, eager for their payoff.

Soon, the alley was empty again, until a lone figure appeared, stepping around the pools of rainwater. On his shoulder perched a white finch. Spreading its wings, the bird rose higher to scout from above, revealing the maze of intersecting alleys in a single sweeping view.

Quiet as a phantom, Li Yuan slipped after them.

Step, step... Step, step, step...

Their footsteps echoed, soon leading them into the mountains. It made sense; if the Mountain Gang had a vault, it would be hidden deep in the hills, and Zhao Xiantong had braced himself for traps and poisons. Still, he couldn’t shake a nagging question in his mind:

“I’ve met that Ming Shu somewhere before. Where was it?”

He dug deeper into his memories.

A flash of image surfaced in his mind. At the mass grave, the Mountain Gang members—servants and women alike—were forced to kneel beside the pit. One by one, they were dragged forward and asked where the vault was. Those who didn’t answer were beheaded on the spot, their corpses kicked into the pit.

Then, he recalled another scene. The remaining Mountain Gang survivors made a desperate attempt to escape, but their plan was discovered, and Zhao Xiantong chased them through the night. It had been just like this—dark, damp from the rain, soldiers at his back. Whenever he caught someone, he crushed their bones and tossed them aside.

Step, step, step... Step, step...

Suddenly, the winding mountain path opened onto a small wooden cabin, tucked away so well you’d never find it without a guide. Ming Shu slipped inside without hesitation, followed by Blood Scissors and the others.

From his vantage point above, one of Li Yuan’s white finches froze, and Li Yuan himself felt a chill run down his spine. An eerie burst of cold seemed to seize his heart, causing it to pound erratically. What had looked like a perfectly ordinary cabin now glowed with a blood-red question mark overhead—the telltale sign of a ghost domain.

𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Noticing that Zhao Xiantong was nearly at the cabin, Li Yuan dashed forward, shouting, “Zhao Xiantong! Turn back. That place is a ghost domain!”

Zhao Xiantong had been staring at Ming Shu’s figure disappearing into the hut, suspecting there might be a hidden basement. At the same time, he was still sifting through his memory. The sudden warning behind him made him halt as alarm prickled along his skin.

At that moment, everything clicked.

So that’s where I’ve seen Ming Shu before.

He had personally shattered her protective blood veil, tossed her aside, then found out his soldiers had taken turns brutalizing her. By the time he got her back, she was barely clinging to life—her face crusted with blood. Afterward, she had been hauled to the mass grave, interrogated about the vault’s location. She refused to talk, so she was beheaded and thrown into the pit.

“She was definitely dead... So how has she reappeared now, leading people from Gemhill County for revenge?”

Zhao Xiantong felt as though something had exploded in his mind. A wave of nausea churned his stomach, and he broke out in a cold sweat. In an instant, he halted, flipped around, and fled back the way he came—scrambling on all fours if he had to—until he’d covered several hundred meters.

Only after stopping did he dare look back. Sure enough, no wooden cabin stood behind him. Instead, all he saw was a mass grave—its muddy yellow earth soaked by rain, forming a giant pit. A swarm of flies buzzed above, drawn by the rotting stench of the corpses buried within.

“Thanks,” he panted, finally spotting the man who had warned him moments earlier. Had it not been for that timely shout, he would have stepped straight into a ghost domain.

“How the hell did that turn into a ghost domain?” he muttered under his breath.

But then he realized something wasn’t right. The stranger was dragging along an odd-looking weapon. Zhao Xiantong tensed, glancing up cautiously.

“You—” He managed to say just one word before the man lunged at him, spear thrusting forward with lightning speed.

Zhao Xiantong froze, baffled,

What’s happening? He just warned me, and now he’s trying to kill me?

He tried to dodge, moving with a bizarre, butterfly-like grace that shouldn’t have been physically possible. Even so, he was still struck by the spear’s point.

BAM!

His blood veil shattered under the impact, and the spear slammed him to the ground.

“Not bad,” Li Yuan remarked, genuinely impressed. “You almost dodged my strike.”

He was speaking from experience. His current minimum combat power was over 500, while Zhao Xiantong’s cap was only 388. With such a gap, the fact that Zhao Xiantong could nearly evade a casual thrust from him was testament to the metamorphosis a sixth rank master underwent.

Li Yuan yanked the spear free. “Let’s give you one more shot.”

Zhao Xiantong said nothing. Planting a hand on the ground, he channeled his breath until his blood roared like a raging flood. In a burst of speed, he flung himself to the side.

SLASH!

Li Yuan struck again.

It was as if Zhao Xiantong had eyes in the back of his head. He sensed the path of the incoming spear and abruptly shifted his footwork in the opposite direction. But Li Yuan flicked his wrist.

BAM!

Once again, Zhao Xiantong’s blood veil shattered. The spear tip impaled him, and Li Yuan hoisted him aloft with one hand.

“Impressive,” Li Yuan said. “I’ll give you that.”

He could tell his second strike had been soundless and lightning-fast, yet Zhao Xiantong still managed to predict it.

No wonder he’s a genuine sixth rank.

Li Yuan pulled out the spear again and said calmly, “I’ll give you one more chance.”

Wasting no time, Zhao Xiantong quickly drew a blood talisman on his left arm using his own bleeding wounds. The crimson runes appeared, then vanished just as quickly. In the blink of an eye, the two spear wounds on his body healed with astonishing speed.

Zhao Xiantong bolted forward once more, and again Li Yuan thrust out his spear. Although Zhao Xiantong moved even more deftly to the side this time, he still ended up pinned to the ground by the weapon’s point.

Sighing in defeat, Zhao Xiantong asked with a bitter smile, “Who on earth are you?”

Li Yuan replied, “I’m just a martial arts fanatic who wants to see how other factions’ sixth rank techniques work. I don’t want to provoke the big powers, so a member of the Red Lotus Rebels who ran off to the frontier makes for a perfect test subject.”

“I don’t have any technique for you,” Zhao Xiantong protested.

“Tell me what you do have,” Li Yuan said. “If you refuse, I’ll kill you.”

“How can I be sure you won’t kill me even if I talk?”

Li Yuan shrugged. “Because I’m only interested in the technique. Once you share it, there’s no reason for me to kill you. Besides, I just saved your life back there, which proves I’m serious.”

“That’s not enough,” Zhao Xiantong countered.

“All right, then.” Li Yuan’s tone cooled. “I’ll swear on my inner demon; if I kill you after seeing your martial arts, may I—” And he reeled off an outlandish curse so vile that Zhao Xiantong stared at him, speechless.

As Zhao Xiantong hesitated, Li Yuan pressed, “I’m running out of patience. Keep in mind, I’m already sixth rank with my own cultivation technique. I only want to compare notes. That’s your sole value to me. If you won’t talk, I have no reason not to finish you off.”

Zhao Xiantong glanced warily at the mask covering Li Yuan’s face, then exhaled. “Let’s get out of here first. Then you can ask, and I’ll answer.”

Without another word, Li Yuan hooked Zhao Xiantong with his spear and whisked him away from the mass grave.