Sea of Heaven City was the largest coastal city in the eastern Wangshui Kingdom. Merchants gathered there, ships came and went without end, and people from every walk of life could find a livelihood. In truth, it was much like Jiayuan City in the Zhao State.
Fortune Sea Pharmacy stood on the busiest street in the western part of the city. Its storefront was spacious, and it stocked a full range of medicinal herbs. Its shopkeeper, a plump middle-aged man surnamed Sun, was only an ordinary mortal.
Yet who could have imagined that this unremarkable mortal city concealed the Heavenly South Soul Chasers, an assassin organization dedicated to hunting cultivators-and that it was hidden inside this very pharmacy?
Late at night, figures wearing all manner of masks arrived from outside, entering the pharmacy's secluded rear alley before passing through its back door.
Seven layers of formations had been laid over the alley. Without one of the masks unique to the Heavenly South Soul Chasers, entering it was no easy feat. This was also why the organization had not been readily discovered.
By a stroke of chance, Chen Ming had met a silver-ranked assassin wearing an Iron Bamboo Mask, who had brought him into the organization.
Dressed in an ordinary short gray tunic and wearing a bamboo hat, Chen Ming pushed open an inconspicuous wooden door in the rear courtyard.
Beyond the door lay a long, narrow passage. Luminous Pearls embedded in the walls on either side cast a faint, cold glow. At the end stood another door, this one made of iron and carved with an eagle spreading its wings to take flight. Two blood-red gems were set into its eyes, looking particularly eerie in the dim light.
Chen Ming stopped before the iron door, took a black token from inside his clothes, and pressed it into a recess in the door. The token fitted perfectly. With a faint click of gears, the iron door slowly slid open to either side.
Beyond it was a spacious basement with simple furnishings. A long rosewood table stood in the center, with someone seated behind it.
The person wore a silver-white eagle mask that revealed only a pair of sharp eyes, which were fixed on Chen Ming as he entered.
"You're back?"
The voice came through the mask, low and slightly hoarse.
Chen Ming nodded, took two brocade boxes from his Storage Bag, and placed them on the long table.
"Both targets have been dealt with. Please verify them."
The person in the silver-white eagle mask opened the first brocade box. Inside was a severed head with a twisted expression: Liu Sanbian, the "Painted Butterfly," who ranked seventeenth on the Heavenly South Soul Chasers' bounty list. He opened the second box, which also held a head-that of Xiong Ba, the "Iron Palm," second-in-command of the Black Wind Stronghold.
He studied them closely for a moment, then took a scroll of portraits from beneath the table and unrolled it to compare them one by one. The faces in the portraits matched the two heads exactly. Only then did he nod in satisfaction.
"Good. Both confirmed."
He took a bulging cloth pouch from his sleeve-the payment for the two missions-and pushed it toward Chen Ming.
Chen Ming accepted the pouch and weighed it in his hand. Rather than counting its contents on the spot, he put it straight into his Storage Bag. This was the rule of the Heavenly South Soul Chasers: trust went both ways. Since the organization trusted him, he naturally trusted the organization.
"Are there any other missions?"
Chen Ming asked.
The person in the silver-white eagle mask pointed toward a wall on the left side of the basement. It was densely covered with mission notices of every kind, divided by difficulty into four sections: black iron, bronze, silver, and gold. Each section was further divided into one to five stars. The greater the number of missions, the more unsettled the situation in the Eastern Wilderness had become lately.
Chen Ming walked over to the mission wall. The bronze missions were somewhat more difficult, with targets usually being early Foundation Establishment cultivators or demonic beasts of equivalent strength. Missions in the silver and gold sections required at least Golden Core Stage cultivation.
Chen Ming was currently at early Foundation Establishment, so taking bronze missions should have been the safest choice. But after a moment's thought, his gaze passed over the bronze section and settled on a notice at the very top of the black iron section.
Three black stars marked the edge of the notice. A three-star black iron mission, its difficulty lay between black iron and bronze, making it a cross-rank mission.
The mission contained only a single brief line: Kill one inner disciple of the Ten Thousand Monsters Sect, with a cultivation requirement of late Foundation Establishment or above. Bring back the head for verification.
Chen Ming reached out and pulled down the notice.
Surprise flickered in the eyes behind the silver-white eagle mask. "Are you sure you want this mission? Inner disciples of the Ten Thousand Monsters Sect aren't easy to kill. The Ten Thousand Monsters Canon they cultivate is renowned for body tempering. At the same cultivation level, their bodies are far stronger than those of ordinary cultivators. And the Ten Thousand Monsters Sect has always fiercely protected its own. If they discover your identity, the consequences will be unimaginable."
Chen Ming said little and merely nodded casually.
The man gave him a long look but offered no further persuasion. Everyone in their line of work had secrets they did not wish to share. He simply stamped the mission notice to register it.
"Understood."
Chen Ming put the notice away and left the basement. The moment he stepped out of Fortune Sea Pharmacy's back door, sunlight fell over him again, and the clamor of traffic on the busy street rushed to meet him, as though the dark basement had been nothing more than an illusion.
He did not hurry out of the city. Instead, he made a circuit of Sea of Heaven City, buying dry provisions and healing medicines. He also found a blacksmith's shop and had his low-grade magical sword sharpened again. Only after everything was ready did he leave through the city gates at dusk and head toward East Slope Ridge.
East Slope Ridge, where the Ten Thousand Monsters Sect stood, was about seven days' journey from Sea of Heaven City. Between them lay a wasteland and two mountain ranges. Along the way, Chen Ming avoided the main roads whenever possible, choosing secluded trails so no one would notice his movements.
Five days later, he reached a small town at the foot of Green-Forged Mountain.
The town was called Bluestone Town, named for its abundant production of bluestone slabs. It was small, with only a hundred or so households, but its proximity to the Ten Thousand Monsters Sect's territory meant sect disciples often came to purchase everyday supplies.
Chen Ming found an unremarkable inn and took a room, intending to first learn the routines of the sect's disciples before looking for an opportunity to strike.
Things unfolded far more smoothly than he had expected, however.
On the evening of his second day at the inn, Chen Ming was eating in the downstairs hall when he overheard several traveling merchants at the next table mention something: Zhou Yan, an inner disciple of the Ten Thousand Monsters Sect, would be going alone into the depths of the Ten Thousand Monster Mountain Range early the next morning to gather a medicinal herb.
Chen Ming continued drinking his porridge without betraying any reaction, but his ears pricked up. The merchants clearly did business in the area often and knew a fair amount about the sect. They also mentioned that Zhou Yan was at late Foundation Establishment and specialized in a sinister palm technique called the Bone-Melting Cotton Palm. He had made something of a name for himself among the sect's younger generation.
Still, Chen Ming did not dare let his guard down. He knew very well that the actual combat strength of the Ten Thousand Monsters Sect's disciples often exceeded what their cultivation levels suggested. Moreover, this was their territory. Any commotion could easily draw more of the sect's experts.
He needed a foolproof plan.
That night, Chen Ming did not sleep. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the bed and quietly circulated his cultivation method.
Early the next morning, before the sky was fully light, Chen Ming checked out and found a concealed spot beside the main road outside town, where he lay in wait. About an hour later, a young man in fitted black clothes rode a horned horse out of town at a gallop, heading toward the Ten Thousand Monster Mountain Range.
Chen Ming did not immediately follow. Only after Zhou Yan had gone far ahead did he emerge from hiding and trail him at a distance. He deliberately kept roughly three li between them, close enough not to lose his target but far enough to avoid detection.
They traveled like this for about four hours before Zhou Yan reined in his horned horse beside a cliff. He dismounted, tied the reins to an old tree, and continued on foot into a dense forest.
Chen Ming's interest stirred. They had already entered the outskirts of the Ten Thousand Monster Mountain Range. Any farther, and they would be in dangerous territory frequented by demonic beasts. What medicinal herb had Zhou Yan come here alone to find?
He suppressed his doubts and continued following.
The deeper they went, the denser the woods became. Canopies that blotted out the sky blocked the sunlight, leaving only scattered patches of light to fall through gaps in the leaves. A damp, rotting smell filled the air, and the soil underfoot was soft and sticky, squelching with every step.
Zhou Yan stopped before an enormous ancient banyan. Its trunk was so thick that it would have taken five or six people to encircle it with their arms. Its gnarled, tangled roots sprawled over the ground like giant pythons. Countless aerial roots hung from its canopy, swaying in midair like curtains.
Zhou Yan took a palm-sized bronze mirror from inside his clothes and swept it up and down the banyan, seemingly checking something.
A moment later, he put the mirror away, formed hand seals, and murmured an incantation. As he chanted, a crack suddenly opened in the ancient banyan's trunk. It widened steadily until it formed an opening large enough for one person to pass through.
Hidden behind a boulder thirty zhang away, Chen Ming's pupils contracted slightly at the sight. There was a hidden world inside this banyan? Had the Ten Thousand Monsters Sect established some secret outpost here?
Zhou Yan looked around. After confirming that nothing was amiss, he darted into the opening. The crack slowly closed behind him, returning the tree to its original state as though nothing had happened.
Chen Ming hesitated and did not immediately follow. He had no idea what lay inside the tree, and barging in could send him straight into an ambush. He decided to wait where he was and see when Zhou Yan came out before choosing his next move.
He waited an entire day and night.
Only at dawn the following day did the ancient banyan's trunk split open again, allowing Zhou Yan to emerge.
Compared with when he had entered, his face was noticeably paler. Dust covered much of his clothing, and a large section of his left sleeve had been torn away, revealing several claw marks deep enough to expose bone. He seemed to have been through a fierce battle.
Yet undisguised delight shone on his face. His right hand tightly clutched a palm-sized jade box, as though he were holding a priceless treasure.
Chen Ming's gaze sharpened. Anything that could make a late Foundation Establishment disciple of the Ten Thousand Monsters Sect take such a risk was certainly no ordinary object.
Zhou Yan did not linger. After leaving the tree, he hurried back the way he had come. His steps were unsteady. His injuries were clearly serious, and he urgently needed somewhere safe to recover.
Chen Ming realized his opportunity had come.
He did not rush to attack, but continued following Zhou Yan, waiting for the best moment. Injured though Zhou Yan was, he was still an inner disciple of the Ten Thousand Monsters Sect and surely carried several life-saving trump cards. If driven into a desperate counterattack, he could make Chen Ming suffer too.
They traveled another ten-odd li, one behind the other, and reached a relatively open mountain hollow. Zhou Yan sat beneath a large tree, took several healing pills from his Storage Bag, swallowed them, and closed his eyes to regulate his breathing.
Chen Ming drew a deep breath, knowing he could wait no longer. He slipped silently out of hiding, three needles coated in deadly poison held in his hand. Aiming at the back of Zhou Yan's neck, he flung them out!
The needles tore through the air, swift as lightning!
Yet at the very instant they were about to strike, Zhou Yan suddenly opened his eyes and twisted his body sideways at an incredible angle, narrowly avoiding the fatal blow. The three needles skimmed past his cheek and buried themselves in the tree behind him with three dull thuds.
"Who's there?!" Zhou Yan sprang to his feet, his piercing gaze sweeping toward Chen Ming's hiding place.
Chen Ming's heart tightened. Knowing he had been exposed, he abandoned concealment and stepped out of the shadows.
"The man who's going to kill you."
Before the words had faded, Zhou Yan thrust out a palm. A ghastly white sheen spread across it as it drove straight toward Chen Ming's chest, carrying a surge of icy energy. It was his signature technique, the Bone-Melting Cotton Palm!
Chen Ming did not dare take it lightly. He circulated his cultivation method and crossed his arms before his chest, taking the palm strike head-on.
Bang!
A dull impact rang out. Chen Ming's arms went numb and ached, and the force drove him back three or four steps before he regained his footing.
"Interesting."
Zhou Yan licked his lips, excitement flashing in his eyes. "Looks like you're no ordinary rogue cultivator. Fine, then. You'll make a perfect test for the Blood Fiend Palm I just mastered!"
He drew a deep breath, and his aura abruptly surged. Dark red markings appeared across his skin, as though blood were flowing beneath it. His hands turned crimson, giving off a heavy stench of blood.
Chen Ming's expression grew grave. He knew his opponent was about to unleash a true killing move. Without delay, he drove the spiritual power within him into motion and launched a full-strength punch at Zhou Yan.
Pushing off the ground, he shot toward Zhou Yan like a cannonball. His fist, as large as a clay pot, carried the crushing force of ten thousand jun as it smashed toward his opponent's face.
Zhou Yan had no time to think. Instinctively, he raised both hands to block.
Boom!
Fist met palms, unleashing a tremendous shock wave that swept up every fallen leaf around them. Zhou Yan felt a force capable of toppling mountains and overturning seas surge through his arms. His body flew backward uncontrollably and slammed into a tree, snapping its bowl-thick trunk in half.
"Impossible! How can you be so strong?"
Zhou Yan spat out a mouthful of blood, staring at Chen Ming in shock and bewilderment.
Chen Ming gave him no chance to catch his breath. He closed in and brought down another punch. Zhou Yan rolled aside in desperation. The fist struck the ground, blasting out a deep pit three feet across and sending dirt and broken stones flying.
"Wait! We can talk this out! What do you want? Spirit Stones? Pills? Or what's in that jade box? I'll give you everything! Just spare my life!"
At the sight, Zhou Yan hurriedly retreated, speaking in a frantic rush.
Chen Ming's movements paused slightly. His gaze fell on the jade box at Zhou Yan's waist. "What's inside?"
Hesitation flickered in Zhou Yan's eyes, but when he felt the undisguised killing intent radiating from Chen Ming, he finally gritted his teeth and tossed the jade box over. "A Thousand-Year Blood Lingzhi! I went through enormous trouble to find it in the Ancient Ruins! Take it and let me go!"
Chen Ming caught the jade box and opened it a crack to look inside. A rich medicinal fragrance washed over him, refreshing his spirits. It was indeed a Thousand-Year Blood Lingzhi, and one of exceptional quality. At auction, it would fetch at least a thousand Low-Grade Spirit Stones.
But he did not lower his guard. He put the jade box into his Storage Bag and looked coldly at Zhou Yan. "Do you think I'd trust the word of a Ten Thousand Monsters Sect disciple?"
Zhou Yan's expression changed. "What do you mean? I've already given it to you. What else do you want?"
"I'd like to borrow your head. Someone's paying for your life."
Chen Ming merely spoke with an apologetic smile.
At those words, the panic vanished from Zhou Yan's face, replaced by an eerie calm. "I see. You're an assassin from the Heavenly South Soul Chasers?"
"And if I am?"
"Then I have even less reason to let you live."
Zhou Yan suddenly grinned, pulled a blood-red jade pendant from inside his clothes, and crushed it!
A terrifying aura erupted from the pendant and shot straight into the sky!
Chen Ming's expression changed drastically. A Communication Jade Talisman! Zhou Yan was summoning reinforcements!
"Hahaha! I've already notified my master, Deacon Zhao Qian! He'll be here any moment! Let's see how you escape then!"
Zhou Yan burst into wild laughter.
Chen Ming's heart sank. If a Golden Core Stage deacon arrived, he would have no chance of surviving. He had to finish the fight before the man arrived, then withdraw immediately!
He held nothing back, driving his cultivation method to its limit. His muscles swelled once more, and he seemed to truly become a vicious beast in human form. He stepped forward, cracking the ground and scattering stones. His body became a blur, appearing before Zhou Yan in an instant.
"Die!"
His fist thundered forward with unstoppable force!
Zhou Yan's smile froze on his face. He tried to dodge, but it was already too late. The punch struck his chest squarely, caving it in. The sound of snapping ribs rang out clearly.
Zhou Yan's eyes widened. Blood poured from his mouth as his body slowly toppled backward.
Chen Ming did not stop. He followed with two more punches, extinguishing the last of Zhou Yan's life. Then he swiftly cut off his head, wrapped it in a cloth, and stuffed it into his Storage Bag before turning and racing in the opposite direction.
He had run less than ten li when he sensed a suffocatingly powerful aura behind him. It was as though a mountain had descended from the sky, its weight making the entire forest tremble.
It was the pressure of a Golden Core Stage cultivator!
Chen Ming clenched his teeth and desperately drove his spiritual power, pushing his speed to its limit. He knew he had to leave the Ten Thousand Monster Mountain Range as quickly as possible. Otherwise, if Deacon Zhao Qian caught him, only death awaited.
Fortunately, he had prepared ahead of time and planned his escape route. He slipped into a narrow ravine and fled downstream along a creek, using the flowing water to conceal his scent and tracks.
He fled for six full hours. Only after the sky had gone completely dark did he finally escape the Ten Thousand Monster Mountain Range and reach an abandoned mountain god temple, where he stopped for a brief rest.
After confirming he was safe, Chen Ming finally breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the temple wall, gasping for air. His clothes were soaked with sweat, every muscle ached, and more than half his spiritual power had been consumed.
Yet as he looked at the head and the Thousand-Year Blood Lingzhi in his Storage Bag, a faint smile appeared at the corners of his mouth.
After resting for an hour and recovering some strength, Chen Ming changed into clean clothes and set off for Sea of Heaven City through the night. He had to return to the Heavenly South Soul Chasers' outpost and turn in the mission as soon as possible, before any unforeseen complications arose.
Three days later, he appeared once more in Fortune Sea Pharmacy's rear courtyard and pushed open the iron door leading into the basement.
The person in the silver-white eagle mask was still seated behind the long rosewood table, as though he had never left. Surprise flashed in his eyes when he saw Chen Ming return. "So soon?"
Chen Ming said nothing. He placed the wrapped head directly on the table and pulled away the cloth.
The person in the silver-white eagle mask glanced down, then took out a portrait and compared it with the head. After confirming the match, he nodded.
He took a cloth pouch from beneath the table and pushed it toward Chen Ming.
Chen Ming accepted the pouch and put it away without even looking, then turned and left.