Shen Yan said in a low voice, "Have you noticed that there have been many more disappearances in Qingyang City lately?"
Chu Ning's gaze darkened slightly. "You mean...?"
Shen Yan slowly nodded. He spread open his palm, revealing a blood-red pill resting quietly within it. "This thing isn't merely a cultivation resource. It... looks more like a sacrificial medium."
A cold glint flashed through Chu Ning's eyes. In a trance, he seemed to hear secret whispers drifting from somewhere—chilling and eerie.
"Ten days ago, you came to me because you suspected I was connected to the grain merchant massacre. I didn't care about the other cases, but I knew about the Zhao Family's grain merchant case. Their household was protected by a Tenth Rank Upper Grade martial artist."
"A Tenth Rank Upper Grade martial artist?" Chu Ning's gaze narrowed slightly. Martial artists had extremely sharp senses. It was nothing strange for an ordinary person to be killed, but how could a Tenth Rank Upper Grade martial artist have been killed without a sound?
Shen Yan nodded and said gravely, "At the time, I followed the clues to the ruins of the West Market and found him there."
He paused, his fingertips trembling faintly. Clearly, that scene still weighed heavily on him.
"His body had already withered, his skin clinging tightly to his bones, as if something had drained him of everything. But the strangest thing was—his eyes were still open, and there was even a trace of a smile at the corners of his mouth..."
"You suspect this is related to the Blood Pill?" he asked slowly.
"Yes." Shen Yan stared at the Blood Pill, his gaze deep and somber. "I later investigated the places he had visited while alive and discovered that the last place he appeared was a