The night wind swept over the eaves. Before the trembling of the tiles had settled, I was already standing atop the wall.
That presence from moments ago had vanished, like a drop of water dissolving into black mist without a trace. But I remembered it—carrying the rancid aftertaste of decay, like a soul crawling out from a heap of corpses, wrapped in twisted demonic qi. It was no ordinary scout, but the lingering trace left by a Guiding Puppet commonly used by the Blood Demon Sect.
I did not pursue it.
I would not catch its true body, and would only expose my own movements. The true killing blow had never wandered in plain sight.
I leaped down from the wall and landed on the bluestone path outside Ye Qingwan's small courtyard. Lowering my head, I looked at the string of damp marks by my feet. The bloodstains had been suppressed with medicinal powder. Had that gust of wind not happened to scatter the concealing scent, no one would have noticed this puddle of "dirty water." I crouched down and lightly brushed my fingertips over the ground, picking up a little dark-red powder.
This was no ordinary blood.
As I rubbed it between my fingers, I could feel fine granules, like crushed bone ash mixed within. Only those from the Blood Demon Sect's Corpse Refining Hall understood this method—mixing a living person's essence blood with corpse powder to set hidden Formation Eyes. It could both conceal spiritual-sense detection and quietly drain the host's life force.
They had already begun to act.
I withdrew my hand and rose. A bronze nail now lay within my sleeve, its tip carved with backward-turning Runes. It was the one I had found by the wall at the end of the alley earlier. It should have been driven into an Earth Meridian node, yet it had been left behind by someone fleeing in haste. That meant the other side was pressed for time, or had noticed something.
They were not afraid of me. They were afraid of unexpected complications.
Upon returning to my residence, I shut the door and placed the bronze nail on the table. The candle flame flickered, revealing a nearly imperceptible crack on its body—evidence that it had been scoured by high-level Spiritual Power. Someone had tried to activate it with a secret art, but failed.
There was only one reason for that failure: someone else had already placed a countermeasure restriction here.
Who was it?
Before I could think further, the window lattice was lightly tapped three times.
"Young Master... it's me." Afu's voice was kept extremely low, almost slipping through the crack in the window.
I pulled open the window. He nearly tripped as he climbed inside, clutching an oil-paper parcel tightly to his chest, its corners soaked through with sweat.
"Quick, this came from Hongxiu's side! She said an undercover agent in the Black Market risked having his soul scatter and perish to stuff this into her hands!" Panting, he handed me the oil-paper parcel with trembling hands. "She said... there's a formation diagram inside, and it has something to do with the tournament!"
I said nothing and accepted the parcel, opening it layer by layer.
A yellowed piece of parchment spread open. Complex patterns had been drawn across it in cinnabar, with eight Formation Eyes arranged in a ring. At the center was marked "Twin Blood Seal," while four incantations were written at the corners: "Blood falls to dust, souls return to the gate; bones serve as the foundation, lives light the lamp."
My gaze stopped at one of the Formation Eye markings.
That location was directly beneath the foundation of the outer wall of Ye Qingwan's small courtyard.
This was not an impulsive plan. They had planted the groundwork at her residence long ago. On the day of the tournament, so long as she and I were wounded and bled at the same time, the formation would use our bloodlines as its guide and activate in an instant.
This was more than a killing trap.
It was a sacrifice.
I stared at the diagram for a long while, my fingers slowly tracing those cinnabar lines. The Pseudo-Primordial Body responded on its own. An exceedingly faint thread of Calamity Qi seeped from the paper, flowed into my body through my fingertips, and was quietly devoured by the Heaven-Slaying Origin.
It was real.
It was neither forged nor a trap. This diagram had come from within the Blood Demon Sect, and it had been drawn recently, because the Battle Intent Fragments contained within still carried fresh agitation.
"Young Master... should we strike first?" Afu stood beside me, his voice tight. "I can dig up those Formation Eyes, or even set a fire and burn them!"
I looked up at him. There was none of his usual joking expression on his face, only rare solemnity.
"Do you know why they dared to place the Formation Eyes in Qingwan's courtyard?" I asked.
He shook his head.
"Because they knew no one would touch them." I slowly rolled up the formation diagram. "She is an illegitimate daughter of a branch family. No one pays attention to whether anything is unusual about her residence. The guards will not investigate, nor will the patrolling disciples notice changes to a wall or a floor tile. They calculated this perfectly."
Afu gritted his teeth. "Those beasts!"
"What is even more vicious," I continued, "is that they chose to act in the tournament arena. Before everyone's eyes, once it erupts, everyone will assume it was an accident on the stage at most, blaming it on unstable Earth Meridians in the secret realm. No one will think it was a meticulously planned Blood Sacrifice."
The room fell silent.
Afu rubbed his hands together, sweat beading at his temples. "Then... what do we do? Expose them? Or run away directly?"
I walked to the desk, took out a blank Jade Slip, and began copying the formation diagram.
The tip of my brush glided over the jade surface as Spiritual Power poured in, every stroke precisely recreating the paths of the original diagram. At the same time, the Heaven-Slaying Origin within me slowly accelerated its circulation—the closer danger came, the harder it was to suppress, and the faster it accumulated.
"Expose them?" I gave a cold laugh. "Who would believe the words of a useless Young Master? City Lord Yan Jiuxiao was courteous on the surface, but in truth he was waiting and watching. The Great Elder of the Ji Clan had long been controlled by Hantian, while the other Clan Elders all harbored their own designs. The moment we speak, we will alert the snake in the grass."
"Then... are we just going to let them succeed?"
"No." I stopped writing and looked up at him. "We will let them complete the formation."
Afu froze. "Huh?"
"The more complete the formation, the larger its flaw." My fingertip lightly tapped the Formation Eye positions on the Jade Slip. "They think I am lingering on at death's door in the shadows, that I do not dare to act. But they do not know that what is truly terrifying is not a killing formation, but—someone who has been waiting all along for it to take shape."
Afu's eyes widened. "Young Master, you mean... use their formation to kill them in return?"
I did not answer. I merely tucked the Jade Slip into my sleeve.
Outside the window came the sound of the night watchman striking his clapper. The third watch had already passed.
I rose and walked to the door, then suddenly asked, "When you came back just now, were you followed?"
He paused, then shook his head. "No... I don't think so. I took three different streets and even changed clothes."
"Changed clothes?" I frowned.
"Yes. That gray work outfit was too conspicuous, so I borrowed a blue robe from a pharmacy clerk." As he spoke, he pulled a cloth pouch from his chest. "Here, these are pills Hongxiu told me to give Miss Qingwan, for calming the mind."
I took the pouch and opened it for a look.
Three black pills, their surfaces gleaming with a faint fluorescence.
They were not Calming Pills.
I recognized this color—it was Spirit Sealing Powder, capable of temporarily sealing the circulation of one's meridians. It made a person appear to have fallen asleep, while their consciousness remained clear. It was often used by assassins to feign death and escape.
Why would Hongxiu send this?
Unless... she had noticed something too.
I tied the pouch shut again and placed it at the very bottom of a drawer.
"Afu." I turned to look at him. "Starting tomorrow, do not go out alone again. Use the back door whenever you enter or leave, and avoid the main streets. If anyone asks about my condition, tell them I am in seclusion recovering from my injuries."
He nodded like a pecking chicken. "Understood! Then... what about Miss Qingwan?"
I fell silent for a moment.
Ye Qingwan still did not know that her residence had been infiltrated. Warning her rashly would only force her into passive defense. What I wanted was not to protect her for a moment, but to sever this venomous serpent at its vital seven inches.
"Do not tell her for now," I said. "On the day of the tournament, I will let her see with her own eyes—who wants to use her blood to ignite the killing formation."
Afu still wanted to say something, but I stopped him with a raised hand.
I walked to the table, picked up that bronze nail, and exerted force with my fingers. The nail snapped in response.
Within the break was an extremely fine silver thread, like the ruined antenna of some communication insect.
As expected, they were still watching us.
My palm trembled slightly. A flash of pale golden light passed through it, and the entire nail turned to flying ash.
"Let tonight's matter rot in your stomach." I stared at Afu. "That includes the existence of this diagram. If even half a sentence leaks out, it will not just be us who die. Qingwan will be drained of blood on the spot and used to fuel the formation."
His face turned pale, and he nodded heavily. "I swear!"
I waved my hand, signaling for him to leave.
After the door closed, I blew out the candle and returned to sit before the desk.
Moonlight slanted in through the window crack and fell upon the Jade Slip, reflecting the clear outline of the formation diagram.
I pressed a hand against the edge of the Jade Slip. A thread of pale gold spilled from my fingertips and slowly traveled along the outer edge of the diagram, like a coiled serpent waiting quietly for the instant it broke from its shell.
The streets outside were utterly silent.
Yet deep underground, the eight Formation Eyes were quietly connecting. Blood lines, like vines, twined toward fate's throat.
I closed my eyes, the Heaven-Slaying Origin within me surging like a tide.
The tournament had not yet begun.
But they had already lost.
Before you continue