It Depends on Whether Master Dares to Cut It

Outside the private room, the roar of voices surged like a tidal sea.

The central hall on the second floor of the Myriad Treasures Pavilion was an enormous stone-gambling arena.

Three thousand pearl lamps hung from the vaulted ceiling, pouring down cascades of light that drove away every inch of shadow.

The stands teemed with people. Countless bloodshot eyes stared fixedly at the "blind boxes" wrapped in stone skins at the center of the arena.

Ye Xingchen walked ahead with his hands clasped behind his back, his steps as leisurely as though he were strolling through his own backyard.

Zuo Tianhe and his daughter followed close behind, their expressions tense.

Behind them came three stone-appraising masters.

They had barely turned past the corridor when they ran headlong into another group.

"Oh? Isn't this Brother Zuo?"

A mocking, strangely inflected voice rang out.

The middle-aged man at the head of the group wore brocade robes and had a ruddy complexion. He was Shen Wanshan, head of the Shen Clan and the Left Clan's sworn enemy.

Behind Shen Wanshan, aside from several Shen Clan elders, the most eye-catching figure was someone entirely shrouded in a voluminous black robe.

The person was hunched over as if carrying a mountain on his back, not a single inch of skin exposed.

As he walked, a layer of white frost rapidly spread over the red carpet beneath his feet, and the originally sweltering air around him plunged to freezing point.

Zuo Tianhe abruptly stopped, forcing the words out through clenched teeth. "Netherworld... an evil cultivator?"

The Netherworld of Central Province employed exceedingly bizarre methods. They dealt with corpses and yin baleful energy all year round, and it was said they could commune with ghosts and gods.

Ye Xingchen raised an eyebrow slightly at this.

Netherworld?

He quietly circulated the Origin Heaven Art, and a flash of violet flickered deep within his eyes.

In his vision, that black-robed man was no living person at all.

He was clearly a long-dried husk. What flowed through his body was not blood, but a viscous blackish-green liquid.

Beneath that hood, two balls of ghostly green fire danced within his eye sockets, exuding a nauseating stench of decay.

Interesting. Ye Xingchen thought. They even invited this half-human, half-ghost thing. It seems the Shen Clan is determined to win this time.

Shen Wanshan had already approached. His gaze swept over the Left Clan members before finally settling on Zuo Tianhe's taut face, and his smile grew even brighter.

"Brother Zuo, I heard that old ancestor of yours is nearly done for?"

"If you fail to gamble out that legendary Innate Spiritual Milk this time, I'm afraid you'll have to start preparing the funeral."

"Oh, do be sure to notify me when the time comes. Shen will certainly bring a generous gift."

His words were vicious beyond measure, like stabbing a knife straight into the Left Clan's hearts.

Zuo Xiaoqing was so furious that even her hands trembled. Had the occasion not been unsuitable, she would have thrown a punch long ago.

Zuo Tianhe drew a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the rage in his heart. "No need for Brother Shen's concern. The Left Clan's sky will not fall. As for Brother Shen, you have committed every evil under heaven. Aren't you afraid that retribution will one day strike, leaving you without sons or descendants?"

"Hahaha! Retribution?"

Shen Wanshan threw back his head and laughed as if he had heard the greatest joke in the world.

"In this world, strength is the law of heaven! Zuo Tianhe, you should worry about yourself instead. If you lose today, Azure Cloud City will no longer have anyone named Zuo!"

The two sides stood with swords drawn and bows bent, the air thick with the smell of gunpowder.

The black-robed man slightly raised his head. An ear-grating scraping sound came from beneath his hood, like two rusted iron sheets grinding against each other. "The scent of the living... is delicious."

The two ghostly flames pierced through the hood and fixed directly on Ye Xingchen.

It felt as though a cold, wet venomous snake had crawled down his spine.

Zuo Xiaoqing's soul stirred violently, and her face turned deathly pale.

The next instant, a warm hand rested on her shoulder.

Ye Xingchen stood before her, blocking that venomous gaze. "Since you're dead, you should lie obediently in your coffin. Running out to scare people is where you went wrong."

As his words fell, he flicked his fingertip.

A wisp of Chaos energy, imperceptible to ordinary people, shot forth.

"Hiss—!"

A shrill scream suddenly rang out from beneath the black robe. The two ghostly flames trembled violently, as though they had encountered their natural predator, and instantly shrank deep into the eye sockets.

The black-robed man staggered back three steps, and two charred footprints were corroded into the red carpet beneath his feet.

The entire venue fell silent.

The smile on Shen Wanshan's face froze.

Zhang Sanqian and the other two masters abruptly looked up, staring at Ye Xingchen in disbelief.

What had just happened?

"Let's go."

Ye Xingchen withdrew his hand without even glancing at the black-robed man. He headed straight for the core area. "Don't let this corpse stench ruin the mood."

After passing through the outer area, the group stepped into the "Primordial Stone Zone."

The atmosphere here was completely different.

There was no clamor, no crowding.

Several dozen grotesquely shaped Source Stones lay scattered across white jade platforms. Some resembled vicious ghosts claiming lives, while others looked like severed limbs. Every stone was covered in dark-red patterns like bloodstains dried for ten thousand years.

Every stone that emerged from the Primordial Ancient Mine was tainted with misfortune.

Ordinary cultivators who came within thirty feet would feel their blood and qi flow backward, their minds flooded with illusions.

"So these are Primordial Source Stones..."

Cold sweat beaded on Zuo Tianhe's forehead. The Killing Intent here was too heavy; even as a Golden Core cultivator, he felt tightness in his chest and shortness of breath.

Violet-gold light flowed through Ye Xingchen's eyes.

In his vision, how was this a stone-gambling arena?

It was clearly a field of Asura hell!

Within every Source Stone were sealed fragments of time. Some contained black mist that towered to the heavens—peerless fiendish beings. Some held countless strands of auspicious radiance—rare treasures beyond price.

But even more contained killing intent.

The Shen Clan members had arrived as well.

The black-robed man seemed deeply wary after suffering that hidden loss earlier. He kept far away from Ye Xingchen and walked directly toward a black boulder half a man tall. Stretching out his withered claw, he gently stroked the stone skin, his nails scraping across it with a piercing screech.

Zhang Sanqian, Gu He, and the Sky-Eye Daoist also scattered, each employing their own methods to inspect the Source Stones.

Only Ye Xingchen kept his hands behind his back, wandering about like an idle fellow at a marketplace, looking here and there without the slightest air of a master.

"Putting on airs and playing tricks."

Zhang Sanqian glanced at him and sneered. "Boy, the stones in the Primordial Zone all carry Killing Intent. If you poke around without knowing what you're doing, be careful not to ruin your hand. If you're scared now, kneel and kowtow three times, and perhaps this old man will..."

"Master Zhang."

Ye Xingchen suddenly interrupted him.

"Since you're so concerned about me, how about I give you a meeting gift in return?"

"Hm...?" Zhang Sanqian froze.

Ye Xingchen had stopped before a stone in the corner.

This stone was only the size of a watermelon, grayish-white all over and covered in spiderweb-like cracks. It looked like a piece of weathered scrap that had sat for years, the sort no one would bother picking up even if it were thrown by the roadside.

Yet as Ye Xingchen looked at it, an exceedingly dangerous gleam flashed through his eyes.

He pointed at the stone, a dazzlingly bright smile blooming across his face. His voice was not loud, yet it carried clearly through the entire venue.

"This is the stone I'm giving you."

He stared at Zhang Sanqian, his tone exceedingly gentle and utterly sincere.

"But it depends on whether Master dares to cut it!"