Spear Intent

The Imperial Academy of Music, the Shadow Plum Pavilion.

Xu Qi'an leaned lazily against the brocade couch, the Nightwatchers's uniform hanging on the back of the chair.

Inside the spacious room, six geisha danced gracefully, their slender waists swaying gently beneath their sheer skirts.

Behind Xu Qi'an, a maid was massaging his shoulders, while his legs were draped over another maid's lap, who was massaging his legs.

The courtesan, dressed in a magnificent and elaborate long gown, lowered her head slightly and played the zither with utmost concentration.

She occasionally glanced up at Xu Qi'an, who was so engrossed in his pleasure that he seemed to have forgotten all about home.

After an incense stick had burned, the music faded, and the dancing girls left the room. Fuxiang gracefully, washed her hands in a copper basin, and said wistfully, "So, Young Master Yang is just Nightwatchers."

"Did I disappoint you?" Xu Qi'an asked casually, fiddling with his fingers as he looked down.

The courtesan lifted her skirt and climbed onto the couch, sitting on him, her hands pressing against his firm chest muscles, a seductive smile on her face, "I like it."

Xu Qi'an turned around and came to the Imperial Academy of Music mainly because it was close by, and definitely not because eating and listening to music in brothels cost several yuan, while here, Fuxiang was giving it to him for free.

"How did Number Six know about my chat with Number Nine? Fragment Number Three is blocked, so it can't receive messages from other fragment holders, but other holders can see them? Is this Book of Earth some kind of ancient version of QQ group?"

"If I had known, I would have added everyone as friends after the Blood-Drip Recognition. I was a little scared at the time and just wanted to get rid of this hot potato."

"Does the Heaven and Earth Society and the Earth Sect seem to have a shared history and a sectarian split?"

Xu Qi'an's train of thought was interrupted, and he frowned as he glanced at the courtesan who was subtly flirting with him.

She has a pair of lovely, peach-blossom eyes.

"Don't move around," Xu Qi'an said unhappily.

A few minutes later, the maids who were guarding the outer room heard the noise.

"Let's go now, it'll probably be dusk soon."

Cassia Moon Tower, a private room where phoenixes and luan birds sing in harmony.

A man dressed in black, leaning on a knife in one hand, sat upright at a round table.

The man in black had a two-finger-long scar on his cheek, triangular eyes, and a fierce glint in his light brown pupils.

He gives off the feeling of an arrogant and madman, as if he would draw his knife and kill someone at the slightest provocation, and he is extremely vicious.

He was a death row inmate in the Nightwatchers's office, the kind whose name had been marked by the current emperor, and his execution was scheduled for the autumn of next year.

Today, he was suddenly pulled out of death row by a Golden Gong. The Golden Gong told him that as long as he successfully completed a mission, he could be released back into the martial arts world and someone could take his place as a death row inmate.

This explanation is highly credible. A list drawn up by the emperor usually means certain death, with no possibility of pardon. Finding a substitute is the correct course of action.

Such deals of "redeeming oneself through merit" were commonplace in the Nightwatchers's office; he had heard about them from senior figures in the martial arts world even before he was caught.

His task was simple: to make one deal.

But the man in black knew that great danger was lurking within. Otherwise, why would he need a death row inmate for such a simple transaction?

The man in black accepted the mission for two reasons: first, since he was going to die anyway, he might as well take a chance; second, this was Cassia Moon Tower in the inner city, one of the most prosperous areas.

Ordinary people wouldn't dare cause trouble in such a place.

Just then, he heard two knocks coming from the door of the private room.

"The door's unlocked, come in!" the man in black replied in a deep voice.

The door to the private room was pushed open, and a man dressed as a wandering swordsman strolled in. He was wearing a gray robe, with half of his face hidden in the hood. The lower half of his face was exposed, and he had a light stubble on his chin, which looked freshly shaved.

Both sides scrutinized each other warily.

"Heh, with that kind of attire, he definitely couldn't get into the inner city. He probably changed into it secretly after entering Cassia Moon Tower. There might be weapons hidden in the robe." The man in black thought with a mixture of disdain and wariness, when he heard the cloaked martial artist ask in a hoarse voice:

Where is the stuff?

The man in black stared at him calmly and said indifferently, "I think I mentioned that I spent five hundred taels of gold on this mirror."

"What kind of mirror costs five hundred taels of gold?" he added in his mind.

The cloaked wanderer grunted in acknowledgment, reached into his robes with one hand, and pulled out a stack of silver notes, the first of which had a face value of one hundred taels.

Although he knew these banknotes would eventually have to be handed over, the allure of wealth was irresistible. The man in black's eyes lit up uncontrollably, his gaze fixed on the thick stack of banknotes.

"Mirror!" The cloaked wandering swordsman placed the silver notes on the table and said in a hoarse voice.

The man in black examined the mirror carefully but couldn't discern anything extraordinary about it as it sat on the table.

The cloaked wanderer slightly raised his head, revealing a pair of sharp, piercing eyes, and stared at the mirror on the table for a moment:

"Very good, deal done. We've never met since we left this door."

He picked up the mirror, while the black-clad death row inmate, his eyes gleaming, reached for the silver notes.

Suddenly, the black-clad death row inmate noticed the cloak on the left side of the wandering swordsman billowing slightly – this was bad! His pupils contracted violently as if illuminated by a bright light. Without thinking, he rolled to the side to avoid any potential attack.

The mission was indeed not that simple. Fortunately, I had always been wary of this expert, so I didn't want to confront him head-on. I simply broke the window and went out. I didn't believe he would dare to kill someone in the middle of the inner city. The thought flashed through the black-clad death row inmate's mind.

Then he saw the spot where he had been sitting. There sat a figure dressed in black, leaning on a knife, his neck cut open by a sharp blade, a large scar gushing blood.

Um?

A series of question marks flashed through the black-clad death row inmate's mind, and then his consciousness was plunged into boundless darkness.

The cloaked wanderer put the silver note back into his pocket, chuckled, and turned to leave the private room.

The cloaked man left Cassia Moon Tower, mounted the same fast horse he had come from, and kept a steady pace as he left the inner city and then the outer city. He then spurred his horse on the official road, his hooves kicking up a trail of dust.

He ran for more than an hour, and then a teahouse appeared ahead, with three old tables set up.

The tea seller was an old man with gray hair. There were no customers at the moment, and the old man was sitting at the table drinking tea by himself.

The cloaked man reined in his horse, and the steed neighed and reared up, coming to a stop at high speed.

The cloaked man tied the reins to a wooden post by the roadside, glanced left and right, and walked towards the teahouse.

He took out a small jade mirror and respectfully presented it with both hands. "Chief, I have not failed you."

The elderly man with gray hair took the small jade mirror and said in a deep voice, "You've brought back an enemy."

The cloaked man was taken aback and before he could react, he saw the old man wave his hand and send him flying.

Bang!

The cloaked figure, who was sent flying backward, collided with a sharp aura and was instantly blown to pieces.

Blood splattered everywhere like ink spilled.

The old man squinted, looking towards the end of the official road, where a tall and imposing figure slowly walked towards him.

He appeared at the far end, but a few breaths later, he was less than a hundred meters away from the old man.

"Yang Yan, you're just Wei Qingyi's kept dog," the old man sneered. "Mind your own business."

Yang Yan, with his expressionless face, said, "I'll insist on interfering."

The old man flew into a rage, his emotions spiraling out of control, and shouted, "Then don't blame me for being impolite!"

His simple robes billowed, and wisps of black smoke billowed from his body, dancing wildly in the air, accompanied by eerie and mournful cries.

Yang Yan frowned. "The Earth Sect cultivates merit, when did they learn these ghostly tricks?"

The old man's face was covered with spiderweb-like black veins, his pupils glowed crimson, and he exuded a sinister aura. "Heh, this humble Daoist will send you to ask the Celestial Venerable of Morality."

With a sharp shriek, a cloud of black smoke billowed out as it lunged towards Yang Yan, howling eerily.

Yang Yan remained expressionless, his left and right hands forming fists.

Bang!

The violent energy emanated from him, spreading out in ripples that stirred up bits of grass and dust along the way, finally crashing into a thin black film.

A flash of black light appeared in the sky, revealing a large array that was thin, slippery, and resembled an inverted glass bowl.

"My Hundred Ghosts Formation is easy to enter, but difficult to leave. Even if you are a fourth-rank martial artist, you will be worn down and die here." The old man's voice was hoarse, as if it came from a demon from hell.

In mid-air, the black smoke that had been dispersed by Yang Yan's aura reassembled.

Yang Yan frowned. This formation was completely different from the formations of the Bureau of Astronomy.

The formations of the Bureau of Astronomy utilize the power of heaven and earth, allowing them to exist for a long time. The formations of the Daoist School are set up by human effort and cannot last long.

This Hundred Ghosts Formation is extremely troublesome.

Among the various cultivation systems, Daoist School is the leader in the realm of the Primordial Spirit. The sixth-rank Yin spirit of Daoist School, also known as the ghost messenger in ancient times, is responsible for collecting souls at night and controlling the life and death of mortals.

The Hundred Ghosts Formation is a similar technique.

Although martial artists also hone their Primordial Spirit, they only focus on building up defenses to make their Primordial Spirit more resilient, lacking offensive capabilities in related areas.

"I've heard that the eighth rank of the Daoist School is called Qi Absorption, which allows one to control Law Treasure and summon heavenly lightning. Won't you let me experience it?" Yang Yan said expressionlessly, his tone contemptuous.

"Coming right now!" The old man was enraged again, and two streaks of blood-red light shot out from his sleeves, like blood-red lightning.

Yang Yan neither dodged nor avoided the two streaks of crimson lightning.

Ding ding!

The two streaks of crimson lightning merely tore through his clothes before sending him flying.

Copper skin and iron bones!

"Why didn't you fight back?" the old man roared, his face contorted with a hideous grimace, covered in spiderweb-like black veins.

"I'm waiting for my gun," Yang Yan said calmly. "It's here."

As soon as he finished speaking, a bright silver shooting star streaked across the sky.

The thin, slippery gas shield shattered instantly, and black smoke hissed and evaporated wherever the meteor streaked across the sky.

"If we can't break the formation from the inside, then we'll break it from the outside." Yang Yan reached out and grasped a long spear, a silver spear.

After saying this, his figure suddenly disappeared, as if he had become one with the spear, and with an unstoppable momentum, he thrust towards the old man.

In the old man's bloodshot pupils, a flash of silver light appeared, irresistible and unstoppable—the indomitable spirit of a spear, honed through countless battles.

The spear intent of a fourth-rank martial artist.

"No!" The old man opened his mouth and spat out a Golden Core shimmered with blood and black light, which crashed into the spear.

The Golden Core turned to dust within the spear's intent, and the old man's body was shredded into minced meat. The silver light shot out hundreds of feet on its own, piercing through a hill.

The old man's figure coalesced in mid-air, half-illusory and half-real. He glared at Yang Yan with resentment before transforming into a shield of green smoke and disappearing into the distance.

Yang Yan bent down to pick up the small jade mirror, shouldered his silver spear, and turned to head back towards the capital.

The black smoke traveled hundreds of miles before stopping at a village.

The old man's face was faintly visible in the black smoke as he stared at the village below.

The Yin spirit cannot operate for long periods during the day; without a physical body, its strength is greatly reduced, making it unable to cope with potential crises.

The old man planned to possess a physical body while simultaneously devouring the souls of the villagers to nourish himself.

Having made their plans, wisps of black smoke drifted gracefully into the village.

The village, which was vivid and lifelike just a moment ago, shattered like ripples on water the next, and a shroud of five-colored merit rose up, trapping the black smoke.

In the center of the formation, an old Daoist priest with deep features, dressed in a tattered robe, sat cross-legged.

Early in the morning, Xu Qi'an arrived at the Nightwatchers's office on time for his shift.

We await further developments regarding the "Book from the Ground" incident.

He always felt uneasy if he didn't know the outcome.

Around noon, the official in black found him in a side hall next to Chunfeng Hall and respectfully said, "Lord Xu, Duke Wei summons you."

Finally, they arrived. Xu Qi'an nodded slightly. "Good!"

P. S.: This chapter is quite long, so the update is a bit late. I could have updated it around 7 PM.