Death Entanglement, Gu Rong Arrives

It was a morning ten days later.

Deep in a remote, overgrown mountain forest, a group of fallen spirit masters was fleeing in a blind panic.

High above in the sky, hundreds of golden energy swords hung like a forest, their tips pointed downward, vibrating slightly and emitting a low hum.

The light dyed the morning mist amber, slowly tightening like a massive, all-encompassing web.

"First Spirit Skill—Death Entanglement!"

Bibi Dong gave a sharp cry, her right hand splaying open. Countless fine, dense purple spider threads shot from her fingertips, weaving through the forest like vipers and precisely binding the fugitives' ankles, wrists, and waists.

The threads were as thin as hair but impossibly tough, digging deep into flesh and skin.

The entangled fallen spirit masters collapsed to the ground, struggling desperately, only to find that with every movement, a portion of their life force was drained away.

The threads were like greedy leeches, incessantly sucking at their vitality.

Their complexions turned ashen rapidly, their skin losing its luster at a speed visible to the naked eye, resembling withered wood drained of all moisture.

Ever since her martial soul had evolved, Bibi Dong's spirit ring skills had undergone earth-shattering changes.

This "Death Entanglement" was a new skill that had mutated from her previous ones.

"No! Please, no!"

A burly man with a face full of fat was bound by the threads; he fell to his knees with a thud, tears and snot streaming down his face as he kowtowed like a machine.

"Give us another chance! We'll turn over a new leaf, we swear we'll never do evil again!"

The others knelt as well, some crying, some begging, others swearing oaths, their voices hoarse and their faces covered in tears and snot.

But the rain of golden swords from the sky had already begun to fall!

Hum, hum, hum—!

Hundreds of golden energy swords descended like meteors, whistling through the air with sharp, piercing shrieks!

"Ah—!"

Shrill screams rose one after another, echoing through the valley and startling a flock of birds into flight.

In the span of only a few breaths, the fallen spirit masters who had been fleeing just moments ago were completely devoid of life, lying in tangled heaps within a pool of blood.

After a long while, the golden sword light slowly dissipated, and a heavy scent of blood permeated the air.

"I'm going to clean up the battlefield!"

Bibi Dong called out cheerfully, running quickly toward the corpses of the fallen spirit masters.

She crouched down, skillfully searching the bodies and tossing anything of value into her storage spirit tool.

Yan Lingji stood where she was, watching Bibi Dong's cheerful and focused back, and couldn't help but curl her lips, smiling and shaking her head.

"Why is she always like a child?"

"She is a child, after all," Zhao Linchuan said, standing by her side with a gentle tone. "Just like you."

"Stop saying such mushy things."

Yan Lingji glanced at him, then straightened her expression. Her gaze turned toward the distant, rolling mountain ridges, her tone becoming more serious.

"We've been circling this area for several days, and we've killed all the local bullies and bandits. Why hasn't that Bone Douluo shown up yet?"

"Don't be impatient. Fishing requires patience."

Zhao Linchuan took a water flask from his storage spirit tool, unscrewed the cap to take a sip, and handed it to Yan Lingji.

He wiped the corner of his mouth and analyzed the situation unhurriedly:

"That old Bone Douluo is likely confirming whether or not there is anyone secretly protecting us."

"If my guess is correct, it should be within these next two days."

"When the time comes, we'll do as we agreed: have Dong'er use the Image Recording Stone to document the entire event."

"Mm." Yan Lingji nodded and handed the flask back to him. "I'm going to cook for you two. Tell Dong'er to come eat as soon as she's finished cleaning up."

"Alright."

Yan Lingji turned and walked toward an old poplar tree not far away. She piled up a few stones to make a simple stove, took a clay pot from her spirit tool, and began to light a fire to cook.

About half an hour later, the scent of wine and meat wafted through the air.

Yan Lingji ladled two bowls of soup from the pot, carrying them carefully. She handed one to Zhao Linchuan and the other to Bibi Dong, who had just finished cleaning the battlefield and was walking over while rubbing her hands.

"Careful, it's hot," she cautioned.

The soup gave off an incredibly delicious aroma that made one's mouth water just by smelling it.

But before the three of them could begin their meal, a figure suddenly appeared in their field of vision.

The man walked along the forest path at a leisurely pace, his gait composed, as if he were not walking through a deep, remote forest, but strolling through his own back garden.

He wore a magnificent black robe with exquisite fabric and fine craftsmanship, embroidered with dark silver patterns at the cuffs and collar—it was clear at a glance that it was worth a fortune.

"Young friends."

He stopped beside the stove and bowed slightly. His posture was polite, but his tone carried a sense of condescending casualness.

"I have traveled quite a distance to reach this place, and my stomach is feeling rather empty."

"I wonder if you might do me a favor and spare some wine and meat?"

"Naturally."

Zhao Linchuan looked up, a gentle smile on his face, his tone neither servile nor overbearing.

"The bowls and chopsticks are right there; help yourself."

"In that case, many thanks."

The man in black did not stand on ceremony. He bent down, picked up an empty bowl from the stone table, and helped himself to a heaping portion.

The golden broth rippled slightly in the bowl, piled high with soft-shelled turtle and black-bone chicken. He lifted the bowl and leaned in to sniff it, but instead of looking satisfied, he frowned slightly.

He sighed, his tone carrying a hint of haughty disdain. "Out here in the middle of nowhere, I suppose this will have to do."

"This is top-quality wild turtle and black-bone chicken soup."

Bibi Dong set down her bowl, her brows knitting together in slight displeasure.

"Many people couldn't afford to eat this even if they had the money."

"Heh."

The man in black waved his hand with a chuckle, his expression dismissive, as if he were indulging the ignorance of a child.

"To tell you the truth, back at my home, this is the sort of thing only the servants eat."

"Ha." Bibi Dong pulled at the corner of her mouth in a joyless smile. "Your family must be truly wealthy, then."

She glanced at Zhao Linchuan and gave a slight nod—a movement so light and swift that it would have gone unnoticed had one not been paying close attention.

"I'm full." She stood up, brushed the dust from the hem of her skirt, and added, "I'm going out to walk off the meal."

With that, she turned and walked away.

The man in black watched her retreating figure, shook his head, and sighed with the air of someone who had seen it all.

"You see, young people are just too hot-headed; they can't handle the truth."

"So, Senior, your family is very wealthy?"

Yan Lingji picked up the conversation, her tone carrying just the right amount of curiosity, like a naive young girl asking about something new and exciting.

"May I ask your esteemed name, Senior? And where is your home?"

"Heh."

The man in black had been waiting for exactly this question. He set down his bowl, straightened his back, lifted his chin slightly, and declared in a ringing voice:

"This Seat is Gu Rong, titled 'Bone Douluo'! I currently serve as an elder of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect."

"Now, do you believe me?"