Secret Talk in the Temple, Yan Explores Wuchen for a Deal

I opened my eyes, a trace of warmth lingering in my palm. The sliver of Heaven-Slaying Origin I had just condensed had finally solidified. Three strands were now complete, and the Pseudo-Primordial Body within me felt faintly hot, as if something was coursing through my blood.

Ye Qingwan was looking down, bandaging her shoulder wound. She stopped halfway, her fingertips glowing with a faint golden light, a remnant of the protective aura I had transferred to her earlier. She looked up at me, her eyes cool and clear. "Who exactly are you?"

I didn't answer. At the cave entrance, Yan Jiuxiao slowly turned around, leaning against the charred stone wall. A tear in his left sleeve revealed a wound, the bleeding mostly stopped, but dark red patterns still flickered beneath his skin.

"You treat me like a pawn," he said, his voice hoarse. No longer angry, it held the calm of someone pushed to the brink.

I stood up and walked towards him with steady steps. "Not a pawn, a collaborator. You want to live, and you want to keep your position as City Lord. I want a map—the Blood Demon Sect's deployment map in the Northern Wasteland."

He let out a cold laugh. "And why should I risk everything for a young master with Wasted Meridians like you?"

I didn't argue. I simply raised my right hand, and a strand of faint golden light appeared in my palm, hovering in the air like mist or smoke, yet refusing to dissipate.

Yan Jiuxiao's pupils contracted.

It wasn't Spiritual Power, nor True Essence, nor any known form of cultivation energy. It floated silently, yet it made the air in the entire kiln heavy.

"What is that?" he asked.

"Something you can use," I replied. "If you bring me the map, it's yours. The Origin contained within the Pseudo-Primordial Body can help you stabilize your half-step Tribulation Crossing foundation, and even... suppress the Demonic Qi that's currently eroding your meridians."

He stared at me, his eyes filled with shock.

He didn't speak, but I could tell what he was thinking. At the transaction site last night, the seal on his token had cracked in an unusual way. It was an old-fashioned cross pattern, but the City Guard had changed their formula three years ago. He hadn't believed it then, but now he had to—someone had tampered with things around him, and not for the first time.

His arm still ached. The bone-deep burning sensation wasn't something ordinary healing medicine could suppress. He knew it was a sign of Demonic Qi entering his body.

"What makes you think you won't just kill me afterward?" he finally asked.

I retracted my hand. The golden light didn't vanish; instead, it slowly drifted towards him. "I don't need you to believe me. I just need you to know two things: First, I can give you what you want. Second, if you refuse, the next Token Holder might be one of your trusted confidants. Then, the Blood Demon Sect won't have to act; you'll drive yourself to death."

He fell silent for a long time.

Wind blew in from outside the ruined kiln, rustling his tattered official robes. The distant fires had long since died out, and there was no more movement from the ruined temple, as if the battle of moments ago had never happened.

Then, he extended his hand.

The golden light landed in his palm, seeping into his skin like water. He trembled, his breathing suddenly becoming rapid. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, then rose like a thin mist and dissipated. He looked down at his arm, at the red line that hadn't fully faded. It began to shrink at a visible rate.

"This power... it can purify Demonic Qi?" he murmured.

"It's just the beginning," I said. "When you bring the map, you'll get the other half."

Ye Qingwan stood up at this moment, the Medicine Pestle held across her side, her gaze sweeping over both of us. "You're playing with fire."

I looked at her. Her expression remained cold, but there was a flicker in her eyes. Not fear, but vigilance. She was beginning to realize that I wasn't the "barely self-preserving" young master she had initially thought.

"I know," I said softly. "But I have to take this step."

She didn't say anything else. She simply tightened her treasure pouch, her fingers brushing against the edge of her sleeve—a faint golden sheen still clung there.

Yan Jiuxiao took a deep breath, suppressing the turbulent energy within him. "Within three days, I will bring you the map."

"The location remains the same," I said. "Here. Come alone."

"What if I bring someone?" he asked.

I looked at him. "Then the sliver of Origin within you will first cause you such pain that you won't be able to speak. It recognizes its master, and it holds grudges."

His expression changed, but he didn't retort. He knew that once this power entered the body, it would be rooted in the soul. Forcibly removing it would only lead to backlash.

"One more thing," he suddenly said. "How can you be sure the Blood Demon Sect's target isn't me?"

"Because the core of their formation isn't on you," I said. "It's on the identity of the 'Token Holder.' Whoever holds the token becomes the sacrifice. If I hadn't made you throw it away last night, your blood essence would have been drained by now."

He closed his eyes. A moment later, he nodded.

"I'm leaving," he said. "Three days from now, same time."

I moved aside to let him pass. He didn't leave immediately but stood there for a moment, looking at me, then at Ye Qingwan, before finally turning and walking out of the kiln.

The sound of his footsteps faded.

Silence fell in the kiln.

Ye Qingwan walked up to me, very close. She tilted her head back to look at me, her eyes sharp. "You gave him Origin. Aren't you afraid he'll study it? Afraid he'll find a way to break it?"

"He won't," I said. "The more one studies this kind of power, the more dangerous it becomes. The System only recognizes me. Anyone else trying to analyze it will only bring disaster upon themselves."

She stared at me, then suddenly placed her hand on my chest. "Then tell me, how much longer can you hide? That protective barrier just now exceeded the limits of a cultivator with Wasted Meridians. The next time, others won't just dismiss it as luck."

I didn't dodge.

Her hand was cold, her palm calloused from battle.

"Until I'm strong enough," I said. "Until then, I'll let them think I'm just a cripple with a few tricks."

She withdrew her hand, letting out a cold laugh. "But what you're doing now is no longer just 'a few tricks'."

I remained silent.

The wind howled outside, making the broken tiles on the kiln roof creak. A few dog barks echoed in the distance; the patrol guards were likely changing shifts.

She turned and walked to a corner, sitting down, the Medicine Pestle across her knees, her gaze fixed on the cave entrance.

"What if he doesn't come in three days?" she asked.

"He will," I said. "Once a person tastes the hope of survival, they can never return to the darkness."

She didn't speak again.

I leaned against the stone wall, closed my eyes, and regulated my breathing. The Heaven-Slaying Origin within me was still flowing slowly, becoming fuller the more I suppressed it. If I didn't act, it was one thing, but if I did, I would surely shatter mountains and rivers.

But I couldn't act yet.

Deep within the cave dwelling, only the sound of the wind and breathing intertwined.

After an unknown amount of time, Ye Qingwan suddenly said in a low voice, "That wisp of Origin you gave him... did you tamper with it?"

I opened my eyes.

She was looking at me, her gaze clear, as if she had seen through something.

"What do you think?" I retorted.

The corner of her lips twitched, and she didn't press further.

I looked out at the gray sky outside the cave, my heart calm.

Three days. That was enough for me to gather the remaining seven wisps.

As long as I could lie low for three more days.

Outside the cave, a crow flapped its wings and flew over the broken wall, landing on a crooked beam.

The bone of one toe on its right claw was missing, and it limped slightly when it walked.