Netherworld River Fishing Old Man Painting

"Little Banner Lu, have you found anything?" From outside the door came Fu An's perfectly timed inquiry, carrying a trace of tension and concern.

Lu Chen did not turn around. He merely said flatly, "The yin energy here is extremely heavy, and the resentment has yet to disperse. There are indeed signs of an evil entity at work. I need some time to examine the place carefully."

"Then... then please be extremely careful. This humble one will wait right outside. If you need anything, simply give the word."

Yet the instant Uncle Fu's words fell—

"Clang!"

With a dull, thunderous crash, the incomparably heavy study doors, forged from refined iron, were tightly locked from the outside!

Immediately afterward came a series of mechanical click-clack sounds. Clearly, some exceedingly sturdy internal locking mechanism had been activated.

"Little Banner Lu, just... rest easy inside and... be buried alongside my Young Master!"

Fu An's feigned grief and respect vanished without a trace, replaced by a venomous, crazed howl brimming with savage delight!

"To kill you, we even used the Duke's Mansion's secret, ranked Demon Painting, the Netherworld River Fishing Old Man Painting! Even if you've awakened some heaven-defying bloodline, don't dream of walking out alive today! Let your soul scatter and your spirit dissipate, never to be reincarnated for all eternity—that is the fate of one who offends someone he should never have offended! Hahahaha!"

His hate-filled laughter echoed beyond the door, then gradually faded away.

Inside the study, everything fell into utter silence.

Lu Chen stood quietly where he was. There was not the slightest panic on his face at being trapped in a fatal situation; not even a ripple disturbed his expression.

He merely turned slowly around, his gaze calmly settling on the Netherworld River Fishing Old Man Painting upon the wall, and spoke in an even tone.

"You've watched long enough. Isn't it time you came out and showed yourself?"

His words were like a stone cast into stagnant water.

The once-motionless scene within the painting eerily came "alive"!

The deathly still waters of the Netherworld River began to flow slowly and soundlessly. Even the wind and snow filling the sky seemed to take on a bone-piercing chill.

The Straw-Cloaked Fisherman in the painting, who had had his back to all living things, slowly turned around, inch by inch.

What a horrifying face it was!

It had no features, only a void formed of dense darkness, as though ink could drip from it.

Yet within that void, countless pairs of eyes filled with greed and hunger seemed to be staring at Lu Chen all at once.

"Oh?" A hoarse, icy voice, as though pieced together from the dying mutterings of countless people, drifted leisurely from the painting. "An interesting sacrifice. Your soul... seems far more delicious than that worthless thing from before."

"Foreman Wang sent you?" Lu Chen ignored its appraisal and asked directly.

"Foreman Wang? You mean the ant that gave me this painting and promised to continuously send me Blood Food?" The Ghostly Shadow in the painting let out a piercing laugh like sandpaper scraping together. "He was indeed a fairly good servant. In exchange, I promised to help him dispose of a Fortunate General... someone he feared. It seems that person is you."

Its void-like face turned toward the soul struggling in agony beneath the riverwater in the painting.

"This Young Master's soul tastes as bland as water. What a disappointment. I hope you can bring me a little surprise."

The instant its words fell, an invisible yet vast and overwhelming force of suction erupted from the painting. Like an unseen giant hand, it viciously seized at Lu Chen's brow, seeking to forcibly tear his Three Souls and Seven Spirits from his flesh and drag them into that boundless Netherworld River hell!

Yet Lu Chen remained where he stood, neither dodging nor evading, as steady as a ten-thousand-year boulder.

He did not even activate his protective qi. He merely slowly circulated the perfected Ten Thousand Year Black Tortoise Art within his body.

That terrifying suction, powerful enough to instantly rip the soul from an ordinary martial artist, struck his body as though it had crashed into a bottomless, immovable primordial divine mountain that had stood unchanged since antiquity!

Nourished by Mystic Tortoise Internal Energy, his soul had long since become dense as mercury and profound as an abyss, fused tightly with his flesh until there was no longer any distinction between them.

No matter how madly the suction pulled, it was like a breeze brushing over a mountain ridge—he did not budge in the slightest!

"Hmm?!"

For the first time, the Ghostly Shadow in the painting let out a startled cry.

"Your soul... why... is it so heavy?! Impossible!"

It clearly could not comprehend why a young man whose qi and blood did not seem particularly vigorous possessed such an indestructible divine soul.

"Nothing is impossible." A cold curve rose at the corner of Lu Chen's lips. "I will indeed give you a surprise. But perhaps it will be more 'shock' than 'delight.'"

Before his words had even finished, he moved!

Rather than retreat, his footwork shifted. He pushed the Shadow Demon Trace Steps to their limit, turning into a blurry afterimage as he charged fiercely toward the bizarre Demon Painting!

"Courting death!"

The Netherworld River Fishing Old Man was utterly enraged!

It abandoned its futile attempt to extract his soul. Within the painting, the black waters of the Netherworld River suddenly surged, transforming into dozens of pitch-black tentacles formed from pure ink and resentment.

Like venomous snakes bursting from their dens, they shot out of the painting with shrill whistles through the air, weaving into a net of heaven and earth that descended upon Lu Chen's head!

Yet within that airtight web of tentacles, Lu Chen's figure moved like a phantom slipping through the cracks between light and shadow, twisting and darting, elusive and unpredictable.

The minor-success Shadow Demon Trace Steps made every one of his evasions exquisitely precise, every landing soundless.

The dozens of Ink Tentacles lashed and pierced madly, turning the luxurious study into a complete wreck. Precious bookshelves were smashed to pieces, antique porcelain reduced to dust—yet they could not touch even the corner of his robe!

"Paltry tricks!"

A cold gleam flashed through Lu Chen's eyes. After dodging another lash of a tentacle, he suddenly raised his right hand!

A Sun Flame Talisman already pinched between his fingers shot forth like an arrow loosed from the bowstring, streaking in crimson light with unparalleled accuracy toward the body of the Demon Painting!

BOOM—!!!

A muffled explosion rang out!

A miniature "sun" formed of flames of utmost yang and unyielding force exploded before the painting!

Scorching airwaves swept in every direction!

The tentacles formed from ink and resentment were like lingering snow beneath a blazing sun before this pure yang power. They let out shrill, sizzling sounds as they were instantly vaporized into gas!