"The Hair-Cutting Pill is refined from the hair of a woman who died bearing a grudge. It's sharp enough to cut through gold..."
The moment he saw the object, he had nearly guessed its origins at once.
"However, Daoist Chi Ling and the others only noticed one of them. They didn't realize that the two pills had been thrown by two different people..."
Earlier, two of these pill-shaped pellets had been thrown at Xie San. The first had pierced his wrist, and the second had knocked the blade from his hand.
However, the black pellet that struck Xie San's wrist and the one that hit his blade had not been thrown by the same person.
The young servant in blue had only knocked Xie San's blade away. Someone else had pierced his wrist—and that person was also inside the He residence.
He looked up between the beams again and reached out, closing his hand around something in the air. To his surprise, he felt an impossibly fine thread, hanging between the beams like a spider's strand.
"So the young servant in blue used these threads to 'fly' away? No, someone rescued him... Interesting. This is the Immortal Puppet Sect's 'Formless String.' What a pity their technique is so crude. They haven't mastered the Formless String well enough to control it at will, let alone refine it until it's truly invisible... Heh. If it can't become invisible, why call it the Formless String?"
A cold smile appeared at the corner of He Ping's mouth. He flicked his sleeve and left the balcony. As he stepped outside, he snapped a finger. The taut, transparent strand, fine as a spider's thread, suddenly quivered. The beams shuddered from the impact, and dust sifted down from the ceiling.
"Young master."
Outside the pavilion, the steward, He Fusheng, seemed to have been waiting for some time.
"One of the new leading actresses in the Tongyu Troupe is missing. As for... that young servant in blue, he was recommended by the side branch three months ago. Should we look into it?"
He Ping sat in a chair, tapping a finger against the black fan in his left hand.
"Look into it... Also, send our people to investigate what the Hu Ma Gang is up to. Chen Er and Xie San's adopted sons aren't easy to deal with either. I doubt they'll let those two get away... But I'm curious—who exactly did the Hu Ma Gang offend this time?"
The "Hair-Cutting Pill" and the "Formless String" were clearly both techniques of the Immortal Puppet Sect.
When He Ping realized that, he had been startled, mistaking it for an attempt by the Immortal Puppet Sect to target him. He had been deeply wary, so he kept his thoughts hidden and did nothing, even when Xie San was killed. Only after the other party had escaped did he realize that wasn't what was happening.
"With the Immortal Puppet Sect's methods, killing a blade-wielder from the north shouldn't take this much trouble. No matter how formidable 'Wind-Soaring Blade' Xie San was, he couldn't stand against puppet arts..."
It wasn't that he looked down on this northern blade-wielder. Xie San's swordsmanship was indeed formidable, but it was only enough to deal with ordinary people. Against a practitioner of Daoist arts like He Ping, he was no more than someone who could be crushed with a flick of the fingers.
Even if the Hu Ma Gang was a force to be reckoned with in the north and even Mobei, in He Ping's eyes they were still just a bunch of ordinary people who had learned a little martial arts, wielded blades well, and rode horses skillfully.
The threshold for cultivating the Dao was exceedingly high. According to the Immortal Puppet Sect's classification, the stages of cultivation were "the lesser scholar hears the Dao," "the middling scholar seeks the Dao," and "the great scholar enters the Dao."
The lesser scholars were simply the ordinary people of the world.
Hearing the Dao, seeking the Dao, and entering the Dao described the three states of cultivation.
All practitioners under heaven began by crossing the threshold of "hearing the Dao" as ordinary people. They sat in stillness and endured hardship day and night, seeking to preserve calm and observe movement, nourishing and strengthening the spirit and power of the mind. As their hearts grew more sensitive, their spirit and vital energy responded to one another, opening the mysterious pass between life and death and giving them a trace of the wondrous ability to sense the union between heaven and man.
After that, they had to work with painstaking diligence, patiently wearing away at their cultivation like water dripping through stone. They adjusted the circulation of their energy through the crown and meridians, opened up their limbs and bones, and stirred their vital energy. Only then might they have the chance to ascend in a single leap, break free of their own limitations, and enter the realm of cultivation known as "seeking the Dao."
The Daoists in temples and the monks in monasteries—whether they practiced breath control, breath circulation, embryonic breathing, guiding exercises, or seated meditation—were mostly working to temper their minds. There was nothing especially remarkable about them. Their ability to attack was pitifully weak; any brawny man who had practiced a few punches and kicks could beat them black and blue, utterly thrashing them.
Only upon reaching the level of "the middling scholar seeks the Dao" did a cultivator's spiritual realm deepen enough to transform the mortal body. With the aid of talismans, arts, incantations, and shamanic methods, they could then perform feats such as summoning wind and rain, suppressing evil and driving out pestilence, and traversing water and fire.
As for "the great scholar," that meant a master who had entered the Dao—a True Person who had truly stepped into the realm of the Dao. They could move mountains and overturn seas, summon clouds and bring rain, and wield immense supernatural power.
He Ping had practiced the Formless Secret Treasury for many years, and his cultivation had long since reached "the middling scholar seeks the Dao." Combined with the Immortal Puppet Sect's bizarre arts and his skill at controlling puppet people, his strength was beyond that of any ordinary martial artist. It was no wonder he was so confident.
Still, he had another concern about what had happened that day.
For instance, who were the young servant in blue and the leading actress hiding in the Tongyu Troupe? Who was the person behind them?
Could it be Wu Yousheng?
He Ping silently clenched his fist.
That was what worried him most.
He Ping was certain Wu Yousheng had left something up his sleeve. The arts he practiced had a fatal flaw. Once he "spun a cocoon around himself" and finished refining himself into a living puppet, Wu Yousheng would use puppet arts to turn him into one of his own puppets.
But then he reconsidered and decided that was probably not the case—
No. I haven't even succeeded at Heart-Swapping. There'd be no point in Wu Yousheng making his move now. His hidden plan must be set to activate only after I become a living puppet.
He Ping's eyes grew suspicious. He knew full well that, because he practiced puppet arts, his present situation might seem harmless, but he was already trapped in a desperate predicament.
Because of the flaw in the arts he practiced, the only way to stay alive was to refine himself into a living puppet. But if he did that, Wu Yousheng, who had passed the puppet arts on to him, would use him for his own ends.
"I have to break out of this deadlock. But my biggest problem right now is that I lack information."
What frustrated He Ping most was his complete ignorance of the cultivation world. He had spent years building his influence in the north, but had gathered very few clues about cultivators. Even when he did uncover something, it was just fragments—bits and pieces, scattered and incomplete.
"If I leave the north and head to the central lands, to Yujing City, the capital of the Great You Dynasty, I might find more clues. What a pity my body isn't suited to long journeys. Besides, the He Family's influence is limited to this small corner of North Prefecture..."
Sitting in his chair, He Ping licked his lips, feeling somewhat agitated.
I need to learn more about Wu Yousheng and the Immortal Puppet Sect... Sitting here and waiting to die isn't my style...
He calmed himself and began to think. As he recalled everything that had happened, a sudden flash of insight crossed his mind.
"Wait. Am I jumping to conclusions? Given the situation, isn't the likeliest explanation that this is another member of the Immortal Puppet Sect?"
Wu Yousheng's schemes wouldn't be so crude, so obvious.
If this had been Wu Yousheng, his way of manipulating people would have been far more inscrutable, like a gazelle hanging its horns—leaving no trace to follow.
Once he had thought of that, He Ping's mind began to race. He suspected that Wu Yousheng might have nothing to do with the matter directly.
"Perhaps I ought to find that young servant—and the person behind him..."
He Ping murmured to himself, deep in thought.
He felt that he ought to take a risk and gamble on this. After all, he hadn't undergone Heart-Swapping and still didn't meet the necessary conditions to be refined into a living puppet. So even if he faced a fellow member of the Immortal Puppet Sect, he didn't have to worry about falling into one of Wu Yousheng's traps.
After studying the Formless Secret Treasury for so long, he had some confidence in this conclusion. Puppet arts were, after all, most effective against puppets. As long as he was still alive, a member of the Immortal Puppet Sect might not be able to do much to him.
—That was right. This was a once-in-a-thousand-years opportunity.
Besides, if this really was a trap, there was no need to care.
After all, successfully swapping hearts after killing the One-Horned Mountain Demon might be when Wu Yousheng's hidden plan came into play. If He Ping didn't swap hearts, he was just waiting to die. He might as well use this opportunity to uncover the secrets of Wu Yousheng and the Immortal Puppet Sect.
Outside Suian City.
A small house stood amid a lush bamboo grove.
Someone lay on the bamboo bed inside. He was the young servant in blue who had slit "Wind-Soaring Blade" Xie San's throat with a single stroke.
"A-Zhi, you were too reckless."
A woman's voice rang out.
"I sent you to the He Mansion hoping you'd find a chance to use the He Family to get close to the Sheng Family. In Suian City, the He Family is wealthy enough to be the ones most capable of making contact with that old scoundrel from the Sheng Family. Instead, you took matters into your own hands and killed Xie San!"
"Sis, that bastard Xie San personally killed our parents. Now that we knew the vile bandit was going to a banquet, how could I possibly stand by and do nothing?"
"A-Zhi" clenched his teeth, his words practically forced out through gritted teeth.
"One stab was too good for that dog! I can't rest easy until I've torn out the bastard's heart and guts and offered them to our parents!"
"You really are reckless."
The woman sighed. "Xie San had to die, and that dog of an official from the Sheng Family has to die too. But by acting recklessly, you alerted them and ruined our original plan. Both our identities have been exposed. Trying to sneak into Suian City again will be harder than climbing to the heavens."
"What are you afraid of?"
"A-Zhi" ignored his wounds and sprang up from the bed.
"It's not like that dog of an official is never going to leave the city. I refuse to believe I won't find a chance to finish him."
"You're oversimplifying things..."
The woman was at a loss. Her younger brother was far too reckless. He might have killed Xie San cleanly this time, but she had exposed her identity rescuing him.
The two of them were also being hunted by a gang of Hu Ma Gang blade-wielders. Even Chen Er had made a move.
The reason her younger brother, A-Zhi, was injured was that the Sand Camel Quick Blade, wielded by Chen Er, had struck his right arm with a Chenxing Stone and poisoned him. That was why they had no choice but to hide here and let him recover.
The woman furrowed her delicate brows, her worry undiminished.
"Chen Er may be Xie San's adopted son in name, but in truth, he was also Xie San's strategist. He's much cleverer than that lout Xie San... Those Mobei men in the Hu Ma Gang are not only fast with their blades and skilled with their horses; quite a few of them are also good trackers. It won't be long before they find us."
Just then, the wind chimes strung beneath the eaves of the bamboo house stirred without a breeze. Their scattered ringing jolted her out of her thoughts.
"Damn it."
The woman went to the window and listened closely. Outside the bamboo grove, horses whinnied in a flurry. Then the wind began to rise, and amid the rustle of swaying bamboo leaves, they could hear people shouting and horses neighing.
"They're right here... Those two..."
"Second master... catch... them... No need... to take them alive..."
The woman and A-Zhi stared at each other. Neither of them had expected the Hu Ma Gang's pursuers to catch up so quickly.