Ran Into a Fellow Practitioner

Mo Ci knew his disciple was sharp-witted and rarely put on airs.

But he couldn't help asking, "How can you tell? I didn't hear anything suspicious in what the young lady said just now."

Chen Ye replied, "I didn't hear anything suspicious either. It's just that when you arrive somewhere unfamiliar, the first person you meet is usually not so simple."

Mo Ci asked in confusion, "What kind of evidence is that? Sounds like a paranoid delusion."

Chen Ye mocked himself too. "It is. Just say I've got a persecution complex. Sigh, if only my cultivation were a little higher. I could just search her soul and be done with it."

Mo Ci scoffed. "What are you thinking? Even someone in the Tongxuan Realm would find soul-searching difficult. The soul is incredibly fragile; the slightest resistance could shatter someone's memories. Look at your Ten Thousand Soul Banner. The resentful souls that have been tortured for too long can't even remember who they are. What you dig out in a soul-search might not be what you're looking for. Maybe it'll just be some resentment from when they were bullied as children.

"The orthodox sects' Heart-Questioning Technique also requires a grand formation, presided over by an expert. It takes months just to prepare. Do you really think you can reach out, grab someone, and learn everything?"

Chen Ye sighed. "Exactly. That's why it's such a hassle."

Chen Ye looked at the martial artists with their heads stuck in the floor. Without soul-searching, interrogating them would take a lot of effort.

Mo Ci asked again, "If you think that young lady is still hiding something, why did you let her go? Just put her in the Ten Thousand Soul Banner and torture her for a few days. I don't believe she could hold out. She'd definitely spill everything, just like that monk."

Chen Ye retorted, "And then what? If that young lady was telling the truth and really was a righteous thief, when Miss Su comes back and we review what happened, how are we supposed to explain it to her? Do you think Miss Su, who's spent years cultivating and has only just come down the mountain for her first experience of the world, is that easy to fool?

"I'm not worried about myself. At worst, Miss Su and I will fall out. She wouldn't go so far as to demand my life. But, Master, it'll be hard for the Qinghe Sword Sect to save you then."

Mo Ci sighed. "Sigh, in the end, I've dragged you into this."

Chen Ye nodded repeatedly. "Good that you know it, Master. When you rebuild your body and recover your cultivation, remember this favor."

Mo Ci sensed something was off and eyed him suspiciously. "Wait. You little brat, you're not setting me up, are you?"

"Heh. You tell me, Master."

"You unfilial disciple!"

Mo Ci couldn't be bothered to guess what Chen Ye was really thinking. This disciple was craftier than a fox demon; he wouldn't make a deal at a loss.

"So what are you going to do now? Is the teahouse waiter's revenge settled?"

Chen Ye shook his head. "Revenge is just a side benefit. I came to investigate the case for Miss Su. Since we've already fought, we might as well use a cultivator's methods to deal with this."

Chen Ye never lost sight of what mattered, whether in cultivation or in handling affairs.

He'd originally planned to make a name for himself by upholding justice, so he could get close to Princess Hongyu quickly. As it happened, these martial artists were also involved in the forced conscription of young boys and girls, so he might as well deal with both matters at once.

Chen Ye waved the Ten Thousand Soul Banner, directing the resentful souls to pull the martial artists' heads out of the floorboards.

Their faces were smeared with blood, and most of them had already passed out.

Chen Ye walked over to the one who'd attacked first, some Bone-something Demon. The scar-faced man had a few more scars on his face now. He'd probably have a bit more presence the next time he roamed the martial world.

Chen Ye marveled at what a wonderful person he was. No wonder good fortune came to him.

He slapped the man across the face, rousing the scar-faced brute from his drunken stupor, but the man still looked defiant.

Even with his face smeared in blood, he gritted his teeth and said, "If you've got the guts... give me a quick death! If I so much as furrow my brow, I'm a coward!"

Chen Ye laughed. "You scum who bully the innocent have quite the sense of honor."

The scar-faced man spat in disdain. "Bah. That's how the world works: the strong eat the weak. Wolves eat meat, dogs eat shit. That's just the lot of the powerless."

"Here we go again with the 'better to be a beast than a man' routine." Chen Ye shook his head and retorted, "Wild beasts prey on the weak because they're hungry. They do it to survive. You lot have full bellies and warm clothes. You torment others out of pure cruelty. Even a wild dog won't bite for no reason once it's full. You're worse than a dog."

Chen Ye had always hated this so-called idea of the strong eating the weak. Slash-and-burn farming had been devised to feed more people. That was what made humanity great, what raised people above beasts.

If the sages had all been beasts, why would they have shaped the world? Why would they have molded humans from clay?

The ancients had struggled to leave the wilderness behind, yet some people always wanted to return to that primitive, savage past—and took pride in it.

People eating people should have been a last resort, not something to praise, let alone boast about.

But Chen Ye couldn't be bothered to waste words on someone like that. He got straight to the point. "Where's your Young Master Jiang? Is he involved in the forced conscription of young boys and girls?"

The scar-faced man snorted.

"Make me betray Young Master, and you can forget it. Even if I'm smashed to pieces, I won't tell you a single word."

Chen Ye knew the man wouldn't talk so easily, but he had his ways.

He took the Ksitigarbha Vow Sutra from his storage bag and muttered, "I was going to learn the Immobilization Curse first. Now you've forced me to learn interrogation and torture."

The scripture recorded four secret arts: detention, locking, interrogation, and punishment. Chen Ye had planned to learn the Locking Formula first, but now he had to pull out the Torture Formula and cram before the test.

The scar-faced man had no idea what Chen Ye was doing. Invisible resentful souls held him fast, leaving him unable to move. All he could do was watch Chen Ye take apart a table and arrange the pieces of wood around him in a strange pattern.

Chen Ye circled him a few times, tracing his fingers through the wood as he muttered, "Draw the ground as a prison, turn wood into shackles; for your sins, may you never find release..."

Chen Ye chanted for a long time—so long that the blood on the scar-faced man's face had dried. The man thought he was just putting on a show.

At last, Chen Ye lifted his fingers from the scattered wood and touched the scar-faced man's chest.

The touch was light, but it left a blue mark on his chest.

Then a thorn sprouted from the tiny spot.

The scar-faced man, who'd just been sneering, let out a scream. His eyes instantly flooded with blood, seeming ready to burst from their sockets.

The thorns spread and grew, covering his whole body in an instant. They slithered like venomous snakes, piercing his flesh and tearing at his organs, yet not a drop of blood appeared.

These weren't real thorns, but thorns that acted on the soul. They didn't harm the body or even damage the soul. This secret art brought nothing but pain—worse than the torture of a thousand cuts.

Torture Formula—Thorn Hell!

Those weighed down by great sin would suffer the punishment of thorns piercing their bodies.

Chen Ye wasn't casting a spell. He'd set up a simple formation instead. That made it more likely to work and easier to use.

Unfortunately, it couldn't be used in a fight. After all, no one would stand still and wait while you set up a formation and chanted for ages.

But it was perfect for interrogation.

Thorn Hell lasted only a short while, yet the scar-faced man, who'd been so proud and defiant just moments ago, was now convulsing in pain and begging for mercy.

Chen Ye paid him no mind, letting him howl a little longer so the others could hear him clearly.

Setting up the formation was tiring enough. If Chen Ye had to do it for every single person, he'd really exhaust himself to death.

After howling for a while, the scar-faced man's voice had gone hoarse, leaving only raspy groans.

Lush green thorns covered his entire body, even writhing in and out of his seven orifices. The sight was terrifying.

When Chen Ye felt the time was right, he was about to lift the punishment and question the man again when a hazy pink light appeared.

"Hmm?"

Chen Ye frowned. Something was wrong with the man's soul. It seemed someone had tampered with it.

Leaning in for a closer look, he saw countless wormlike runes within the pink light. They'd originally shrouded the man's soul, but the pain of Thorn Hell had jolted the runes into surfacing on their own.

"Not good. I've run into a fellow practitioner."

Chen Ye studied them for a long while before recognizing them as the demonic sect's Charm Technique. They weren't much different from the one Mo Ci had taught him earlier.

Was Young Master Jiang a demonic cultivator, too?

Could he be the mastermind behind the forced conscription of young boys and girls in Cui County?