Chong An fell into a dazed state. He could clearly hear, see, and sense everything outside, yet his body would not obey his control. Even his thoughts seemed terribly blurred, as if he had drunk himself senseless.
He felt as though he were in a dream. He could plainly see everything, yet desperately wanted to open his eyes, only to find that no matter what he did, he could not wake up.
He was powerless to resist.
That wisp of soul entrusted within him had ultimately come from a True Person of the Primordial Spirit. Its level was far above Chong An's, and it inherently possessed the ability to counter-control the body at a certain cost. It had merely not dared to use it before Zhang Yu, for it could not be sure that the instant it exposed itself, it would not be directly annihilated.
Now that it had left the range of the Daoist temple's mountain, it naturally stopped being polite. Moreover, after Chong An had obtained the concealment formula, he had already practiced it himself, sparing it the trouble of controlling the body to circulate it. This saved it a great deal of effort. It immediately cast the art, and its figure vanished at once.
It fled swiftly outward, escaping more than ten thousand li in one breath without daring to pause even once.
Though it had temporarily seized control of Chong An, it knew this was not secure. In its view, Zhang Yu might come after it at any moment. The best course was to find an opportunity to destroy this body and reincarnate once more. Then it could lie low again.
Yet no matter how many lives it passed through, it had to find someone with sufficient aptitude to cultivate the Dao. If their talent was