Laying Plans for Mo Juren

The Black Fiend Cult's cultivation system exuded the demonic path's distinctive tyranny and treachery from its very foundations.

Unlike the orthodox sects of the Heavenly South, which needed Foundation Establishment Pills to breach the barrier, disciples of the cult only had to cultivate the Fiendish Demon Art to the peak of Qi Refining, then use baleful qi to force open the barriers in their meridians to enter Foundation Establishment. Though perilous, the entire process required no reliance on rare natural treasures.

Yet this seemingly convenient path of advancement had already sown the seeds of a fatal shackle.

Once a cultivator successfully established his foundation, a mass of five-element baleful qi would automatically form within his dantian. Over time, it would condense into a pill-the Blood-Congealing Five Elements Pill that the cult's higher ranks flocked to like ducks to water.

This was no ordinary medicinal pill, but the concentrated essence of a Foundation Establishment cultivator's entire baleful qi cultivation.

Yet the sinister nature of the Fiendish Demon Art would reveal itself fully at this point: no matter how extraordinary a cultivator's talent, upon reaching late Foundation Establishment great perfection, he would crash into an invisible iron wall. No amount of arduous cultivation could carry him another inch forward.

To break through this bottleneck, he could only rely on the cult's secret Baleful Core Art.

The practitioner had to extract and refine the Blood-Congealing Five Elements Pill he had nurtured within himself, then reforge it through a secret technique, ultimately condensing a "false golden core" that resembled a golden core but harbored baleful qi-a baleful core.

In power, a baleful core fell slightly short of a true golden core, but the difference was by no means great. It also possessed the same wondrous ability to extend one's lifespan.

Jing Wen unconsciously rubbed the storage pouch he had just obtained, the names of the Black Fiend Cult's Foundation Establishment cultivators surfacing in his mind: Ye She, Qing Wen, Ice Demon, and Tie Luo.

Of these four, Tie Luo had already been confirmed as the Yue Emperor's external incarnation. Though he lacked solid evidence regarding the other three, Jing Wen suspected they were almost certainly the Yue Emperor's external incarnations as well.

Even if they were not, the Yue Emperor had long since marked them as his.

Jing Wen slowly clenched his hand, his conclusion already settled. The Yue Emperor regards every Foundation Establishment cultivator as his own medicinal pill. Snatching food from his jaws will be no easy task.

If I want to form a baleful core, I had best personally raise Foundation Establishment cultivators of my own.

Before the thought had faded, Jing Wen's gaze fell on Mo Juren, who lay on the floor nearby.

He walked over slowly and looked down at the enfeebled Mo Juren, tapping a fingertip against his palm as he mused, He established a power in the mortal world and slew a cultivator with a mortal body. This man has some brains and means. Perhaps... he qualifies to become one of my "medicinal pills."

At that thought, Jing Wen flicked a finger lightly. A wisp of ghostly blue spiritual energy darted out like a spirit snake and instantly sank into Mo Juren's brow.

"Cough! Cough, cough-" Mo Juren suddenly convulsed, violent, tearing coughs ripping through his throat. His unfocused pupils abruptly contracted, and he slowly opened his eyes.

Once he saw Jing Wen's cool, aloof bearing before him, his pupils widened sharply. All color drained from his face, leaving it filled with panic and bewilderment.

Though Mo Juren did not recognize this man, he instinctively sensed that the newcomer was no kindly soul. His hands immediately began fumbling over his body-where he habitually concealed poisoned needles and knockout drugs.

"My... my Sleeve Needle and the Poison Pouch in my collar are gone!" His voice shook. As his fingertips touched his empty lapels, his heart turned halfway to ice. "And the Mother-and-Child Bell that controls Qu Hun is missing too!"

He jerked his head up and began surveying the room, while inwardly screaming, Where is Yu Zitong? Yu Zitong, come out!

Jing Wen stood beside him with his hands behind his back, calmly watching Mo Juren's panic. A trace of amusement flashed through his eyes, and his voice held a deliberately curious note. "What are you looking for?"

Mo Juren froze. His lips trembled, but for a moment he could not think how to answer-the other man's tone was so calm that it only deepened the terror in his heart.

When he failed to answer, Jing Wen seemed to suddenly remember something. He leisurely drew a small bronze bell from his sleeve, its body engraved with intricate patterns. It was precisely the Mother-and-Child Bell Mo Juren had searched his entire body for.

He lightly touched its clapper, producing a clear, delicate chime. Watching Mo Juren's pupils contract sharply, he asked earnestly, "Are you looking for this bell?"

Mo Juren's breathing stopped instantly, and cold sweat slid down his temples.

Before he could recover from his shock, Jing Wen added another remark as though making idle conversation, his curiosity perfectly feigned. "Oh, right. Could what you were looking for just now have been Yu Zitong's soul?"

"What!" Mo Juren felt as though five bolts of thunder had struck his head. His body shook violently, and he braced both hands against the floor, his knuckles whitening with exertion. His eyes filled with disbelief.

How does he know about Yu Zitong? Has Yu Zitong thrown in his lot with him?

No. "Soul" was not a word an ordinary martial artist would bring up. Ordinary people did not even know souls existed, much less accurately speak of "looking for Yu Zitong's soul."

An absurd yet inescapable thought rose in his heart, chilling him from head to toe: unless... this man is a cultivator!

He forced down the bloody sweetness in his throat and the fear churning in his heart, asking in an uncontrollably trembling voice, "Are... are you a cultivator?"

An almost imperceptible cold smile curled Jing Wen's lips. The amusement in his eyes faded slightly as he thought, Mo Juren is no fool. He guessed my identity from a few stray words. His reactions are quick indeed.

Since the other man had already exposed it, he could not be bothered to beat around the bush any longer. He went straight to the point, his voice calm but carrying unquestionable pressure. "That's right. I am a cultivator."

"A cultivator..." Mo Juren murmured the words, his face turning utterly white as paper.

Countless thoughts flashed through his mind: Why is he here?

Has he come for my Qu Hun?

Or did the matter with Yu Zitong draw him here?

He swiftly weighed the advantages and dangers. Cultivators could summon clouds with a turn of the hand and rain with another. If the other man were completely unprepared, his paltry mortal poison tricks might have offered a chance for a successful ambush.

But now, resisting by force would only end with his soul scattered to the winds.

Since the other man had spared his life, he must want something. Rather than stubbornly resist, Mo Juren would do better to watch how things developed and seek a chance to survive.

As these thoughts flashed through his mind, Mo Juren abruptly rolled himself upright and dropped to his knees with a thud. He pressed his forehead tightly against the cold floor, not daring even to breathe loudly.

Only after a moment did he raise his head. His face had already assumed a tearful, sniveling expression, and his voice carried carefully cultivated sobs and gratitude. "Immortal Master!

"You have finally saved me!

"That Yu Zitong has made my life a misery!"

"Oh?" Jing Wen raised an eyebrow and stood to one side with his arms folded, waiting for him to continue.

"Yu Zitong placed a vicious curse on me and cut short my lifespan. Now my oil is spent and my lamp is dying!

"All these years, he has threatened my family's lives, forcing me to gather medicinal ingredients and raise human vessels for his medicines. Every last deed offended Heaven and reason!

"Had you not acted to rid me of him, Immortal Master, I fear I would have remained under his control until my dying breath!"

Mo Juren spoke through tears and sobs, but his eyes swiftly studied Jing Wen's expression.

Watching his emotionally charged performance, with even the veins bulging at his temples appearing at just the right moments, Jing Wen could not help finding it amusing.

He thought, Mo Juren is quite an actor. With a few effortless words, he has washed himself clean and dumped everything on the dead Yu Zitong.

If I weren't a transmigrator who knew the whole story, I might actually have been fooled by this pitiful act.

Jing Wen's original intention to threaten him directly with force suddenly shifted. Mo Juren's adaptability and disposition were more interesting than he had expected.

A mischievous gleam flashed through his eyes. His interest suddenly piqued, he decided to bring Mo Juren into his service through a somewhat gentler approach.

Before Mo Juren could finish his tragic performance, Jing Wen spoke leisurely, interrupting his tearful complaints. "From what you say, you and Yu Zitong shared a blood-deep vendetta.

"What a coincidence. I was the one who dispersed his soul, so I suppose I helped remove that thorn in your heart."

He paced forward two steps and looked down at Mo Juren, who remained kneeling on the floor. His tone held a casually amused edge. "I avenged this 'blood-deep vendetta' for you. How do you intend to repay me?"

The Immortal Master really killed Yu Zitong! Mo Juren's heart suddenly eased, the great stone hanging over it falling to the ground.

He swiftly began calculating. Since Yu Zitong was dead, even if the Immortal Master noticed clues to his past filthy deeds, he could blame them all on Yu Zitong. A dead man could offer no testimony, and surely the Immortal Master could not confront a corpse for confirmation.

Thinking this way, Mo Juren grew increasingly certain that the Immortal Master had come for that fiend Yu Zitong, while he was merely an innocent caught in the affair.

He even began secretly rejoicing. If not for this unexpected incident, he might never have had the chance to speak face-to-face with a legendary cultivator in his entire life. Even princes and powerful nobles at court could only dream of such treatment!

The fear in his heart vanished completely, replaced by excitement he could scarcely conceal.

"Please hear me out, Immortal Master! I have three exceptionally beautiful daughters at home, all trained in needlework and the art of tea. They would gladly serve as your personal maids and attend to your daily needs!

"Moreover, your servant has ten thousand taels of gold and a hundred bolts of silk stored in his cellar, as well as three peerless martial manuals long lost to the martial world..."

"Gold? Martial manuals?" Jing Wen gave a derisive laugh, as though he had heard something ridiculous. His tone carried a cultivator's indifference toward mortal possessions. "Do you think such things are useful to a cultivator?"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Mo Juren's suddenly rigid face, then added another cutting remark. "Besides, the women who want to be my maids could form a line from the Seven Mysteries Sect to the walls of the Imperial City. What makes you think your daughters would get a turn?"

Seeing Mo Juren's face alternate between green and white, Jing Wen changed tack again, his faint smile carrying a sharp edge. "Offering your daughters as my maids-are you truly thanking me, or hoping to use them to cling to an immortal opportunity and take advantage of me?"

These words struck like a barrage of cannon fire. Mo Juren opened his mouth but could not offer a single word in rebuttal. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead once more.

Yet he was, after all, a seasoned schemer who had spent years in the martial world. His eyes darted, and a plan instantly formed. He abruptly kowtowed three times to Jing Wen, his forehead striking the floor with resounding thumps. "Immortal Master, please see the truth! I was foolish just now and profaned you with mortal possessions!

"To repay you for saving my life, I am willing to devote this failing body to your service until death!

"Whatever mortal affairs you need handled-gathering rare treasures, managing properties, or eliminating rivals-I can arrange them all properly. I will serve at your saddle and stirrup, with never a second loyalty!"

Jing Wen remained standing with folded arms, watching him shift from offering material bargaining chips to volunteering his services. Appreciation was hard to conceal in his eyes, and he was already satisfied.

He thought, Well done, Mo Juren. In mere moments, he has gone from helplessly begging for mercy to finding the crucial opening of "service." He has forcibly turned certain death into a chance to seek immortality and the Dao. He has something of the bearing of a man who summons clouds with one turn of his hand and rain with another.

His fingertips lightly rubbed the storage pouch at his waist as his thoughts grew clearer. With such intelligence and adaptability, if he cultivates my Black Fiend Cult's arts and has a little fortune on his side, reaching Foundation Establishment may not be beyond him.

Mo Juren's adaptability and disposition had passed Jing Wen's test, and Jing Wen no longer felt like wasting time toying with him.

Jing Wen dropped his casual manner and said gravely, "All those under my command are cultivators. Mortals are not qualified to be my servants."

"Mortals... are not qualified..." Mo Juren repeated those words, his heart sinking into the depths. It felt as though all strength had been drained from his body.

But his resolve was iron-hard by nature. Having witnessed a cultivator's supernatural abilities with his own eyes and heard of an opportunity for immortality with his own ears, he was willing to gamble even his life for a chance. Besides, he had little lifespan left to begin with. This was his final opportunity!

He abruptly raised his head, a resolute light rekindling in his eyes. He kowtowed repeatedly to Jing Wen, oblivious even when his forehead struck the floor hard enough to bleed. His voice held the desperate earnestness of a man who had smashed his cauldrons and sunk his boats. "Immortal Master! Please show mercy and give me one chance to repay you!

"Even if I must serve as your ox or horse, I will do so willingly!"

"Very well." Just as Mo Juren's kowtowing left him dizzy and dazed, Jing Wen's voice suddenly reached him, carrying a hint of concession. "Seeing that you are so eager to repay kindness and possess some quick wit, I will make an exception and give you a chance."

"Thank you, Immortal Master! Thank you!" Before Jing Wen had finished speaking, tears and mucus were streaming down Mo Juren's face. He choked out his thanks and kowtowed repeatedly, smearing the floor with the blood from his forehead mixed with tears, wretched yet filled with wild joy.

"Don't rush to thank me yet." Jing Wen raised a hand and pressed it downward in the air, his tone becoming serious again. "As I said, my subordinates must at least be cultivators.

"And to step onto the immortal path, the first requirement is a spiritual root. Without one, even a heaven-blessed genius cannot draw qi into his body."

"A spiritual root..." The excitement on Mo Juren's face froze instantly. His expression visibly darkened, and his fingers unconsciously tightened around his lapels.

He had once learned from Yu Zitong that he possessed no spiritual root.

An opportunity for immortality lay right before him. Was he to miss it because of this inborn deficiency?

"However," Jing Wen said, changing tack, a beguiling note entering his voice, "I have a method that can forcibly grant even a mortal without a spiritual root the qualification to cultivate."

"R-really?" Mo Juren abruptly raised his head. Sparks instantly ignited in his dim eyes, and his voice trembled despite himself. Cold sweat filled his clenched fists, and even his breathing quickened.

"This method is called Spirit Seizure," Jing Wen said, enunciating each word. A cold glint flashed through his eyes, and his tone turned chilling.

"As the name suggests, it means seizing another person's spiritual root for your own use."

"S-seizing another person's spiritual root..." Mo Juren murmured, yet there was not the slightest hesitation in his eyes, only urgency and yearning. Compared with the despair of his dwindling lifespan, such a sinister method seemed an utterly insignificant price.

"I will teach you a cultivation formula. Return to Lan Prefecture and find people to practice it. If someone succeeds in cultivating it, you can take his place."

Mo Juren's heart jolted, and he understood at once. This was probably much like what he had previously planned to do to Han Li: possession.

But when he recalled the difficulty of raising Han Li, his expression dimmed again, and he could not help sighing.

"What? You find it difficult?" Jing Wen caught the change in his expression and asked evenly, though his tone carried unquestionable pressure.

"I would not dare!" Mo Juren hurriedly gathered himself and kowtowed heavily once more, striking the floor hard enough to hurt his forehead. "It is only that Yu Zitong previously gathered several hundred children to test for spiritual roots, and not one qualified;

"Even if I am fortunate enough to find someone with a spiritual root, it takes years to progress from drawing qi into the body to stabilizing the foundation. Your servant fears... fears he may struggle to accomplish this quickly."

He had originally intended to mention that Han Li could cultivate the Evergreen Technique, but forcibly swallowed the words just as they reached his lips.

He had glimpsed half a young boy's cloth-shoe footprint impressed in the moss on the floor. Its size and tread unmistakably belonged to Han Li!

Jing Wen and Han Li had clearly met already, yet Jing Wen had said nothing about possession. This meant Han Li had already caught the Immortal Master's eye.

Rashly bringing up possessing Han Li now would gain him nothing. Instead, it might anger the other man and invite humiliation.

"You are not entirely foolish." Jing Wen nodded faintly, his tone carrying a trace of disdain. "But my Burning Blood Art is completely different from the Evergreen Technique. It is compatible with a very wide range of spiritual roots.

"If someone has a spiritual root, he can begin practicing it in only a few days. There is no need for years of arduous work. All you need to do is find someone with a spiritual root, not expend effort nurturing him."

"Only a few days to begin?" Mo Juren's eyes abruptly brightened, and the great stone weighing on his heart fell away.

This meant he did not need to invest time and effort as he had in raising Han Li. He only had to focus on finding someone with a spiritual root, making the task far less difficult.

"Furthermore, the success rate of Spirit Seizure is several times higher between blood relatives." Jing Wen deliberately paused here, a meaningful gleam flashing through his eyes. He did not fully explain the subsequent risks.

Mo Juren was just about to ask for details when he suddenly remembered how little lifespan he had left. His face fell instantly, and a bitter smile appeared. His voice carried self-mockery and helplessness. "You may not know, Immortal Master, but Yu Zitong cursed me years ago. I now have only one year left to live.

"Lan Prefecture is several months' journey from the Seven Mysteries Sect...

"Even if I find someone with a spiritual root, I fear I may have no chance..."

"That is no concern." Jing Wen waved a hand casually. His broad green sleeve swept sharply through the air, and with a crisp smack, a blood-red pill giving off a faint bloody odor rolled from it. It bounced several times across the moss-covered stone floor, leaving a few dark red streaks.

"Your lifespan was depleted by an external force. Your allotted time has not truly run out." Jing Wen spoke casually. "Taking this pill will restore four or five years of your lifespan without affecting your martial arts. That will be enough for you to accomplish this task."

Mo Juren stared at the pill on the floor, his pupils contracting slightly.

The pill was an unnaturally sinister red, its surface seeming to shimmer with a viscous sheen. Up close, he could smell a faint trace of blood. It looked nothing like an ordinary medicinal pill.

Alarm bells rang in his mind. This was clearly refined through demonic methods. Could it conceal heart-devouring gu insects or restrictions capable of controlling his mind?

But as soon as the thought arose, the despair of his dwindling lifespan crushed it. If he did not take this pill, he would be a heap of dry bones in a year;

If he took it, even if there was a trap, he would at least have a chance to touch the immortal path.

Mo Juren shuffled forward on his knees, quickly picked up the pill, and stuffed it into his mouth.

The pill melted the moment it entered his mouth. Instead of the bitterness he had expected, it became a scorching warm current that erupted from his dantian, spreading through his meridians to every limb and bone like a surging tide.

His body, weakened by old injuries and the depletion of his lifespan, gradually regained strength. His dry, aching meridians felt as though they had been drenched in sweet rain, and even his breathing grew much easier. New vitality visibly suffused him.

"This... this is..." Feeling the changes within him, Mo Juren was both astonished and delighted. With no time to ponder the pill's peculiarities, he hurriedly kowtowed to Jing Wen again and again, his forehead striking the floor with dull thuds. "Immortal Master, I, Mo Juren, will remember your great kindness until my dying day!

"From this day forth, you are as a parent who has granted me a second life. Whatever your command, I would brave ten thousand deaths without refusing!"

Yet a flicker of wariness swiftly crossed his lowered eyes. The pill's effects were too forceful for this to be a gift without strings.

But he asked nothing, nor did he dare investigate whether anything unusual remained within his body. He knew that before such an absolute disparity in strength, he had no right to bargain.

Jing Wen nodded in satisfaction and raised his hand. A sheet of yellowed hemp paper drifted toward Mo Juren like a falling leaf. "This is the formula for the first level of the Burning Blood Art. You must commit every word to memory. There cannot be the slightest mistake when practicing it, or the baleful qi will backlash. At best, all your meridians will be severed; at worst, your body will explode and you will die."

Still kneeling, Mo Juren hurriedly shuffled half a step forward and respectfully caught the hemp paper with both hands. As his fingertips touched its surface, he sensed a faint thread of baleful qi moving through it, making his heart jolt. This truly was an immortal cultivation art!

He dared not be careless and immediately clutched the paper tightly, afraid the wind might blow away even half a word.

Jing Wen's expression abruptly turned cold and stern, his voice carrying a bone-piercing chill. "One more warning. Though Lan Prefecture appears to belong to mortal sects, with its major factions openly and secretly struggling while keeping to their own territories, beneath that surface, cultivator powers have long since spread their tangled roots, secretly controlling the rise and fall of the mortal world."

He paced forward a step, his shadow falling over Mo Juren, and enunciated each word. "The Burning Blood Art is a demonic cultivation art. If you carelessly expose it, not only will orthodox cultivators hunt you down, but other demonic cultivators will regard you as a target to plunder. Then you will be beyond all redemption. Having your soul scattered to the winds would be getting off lightly!"

Mo Juren stiffened, his fingers unconsciously tightening around the hemp paper.

Though he had previously heard scattered accounts of the Cultivation World's cruelty from Yu Zitong, only now, hearing confirmation directly from a cultivator like Jing Wen, did he truly feel that invisible danger. Mortal violence threatened merely one's life, while struggles in the Cultivation World could destroy even one's soul!

Bloody images of baleful qi devouring people and souls being extracted rose unbidden in his mind. Cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

"I will engrave your teachings upon my heart, Immortal Master!" Mo Juren hurriedly kowtowed again. Though his voice still trembled slightly, it held greater resolve.

"I will certainly act discreetly and search in secret for people with spiritual roots!"

"Go." Jing Wen waved a hand and turned his back to Mo Juren, his broad green sleeves gently stirring in the dim candlelight.

Mo Juren kowtowed heavily three times before carefully rising. He hid the hemp paper close against his body, then bowed and backed out of the room. Until his figure vanished completely into the darkness outside, Jing Wen never dared lift his head for even a glance.

Only after the door creaked shut did Jing Wen slowly turn around. Candlelight danced across his face, revealing an uncertain, shifting expression.

His gaze was deep as an abyss as he stared in the direction Mo Juren had departed. Only after a long while did he murmur softly to himself, "Mo Juren is merely an idle move on the board. I will treat him as a starting point for testing Spirit Seizure.

"If a Baleful Bead really can be 'transferred' this way, then..."

He left the rest unspoken. It became only a cold snort of unclear meaning, dissipating within the room filled with baleful qi and leaving an endless chill.