Chapter Eighteen: The Deal

Shen Chang’an thrust out his palm—not with any particular technique, but with a singular intent: to make contact with his opponent.

The Force of the Divine Strength was domineering and unreasonable; should Shen Chang’an’s palm so much as graze her, death or grievous injury would be inevitable. Overwhelming force trumps a thousand techniques—this is no idle boast. Why else are boxing matches divided into weight classes? Skill rarely compensates for a deficit in strength; when you’re outmatched in weight, your opponent doesn’t even need to aim for your weak points—they’ll simply face you head-on and beat you down.

Of course, those are techniques in the real world. Here, things are not quite so simple.

Just as Shen Chang’an’s palm was about to connect, the woman in white moved; her figure turned soft and boneless, her body swaying like a snake as she coiled upward. With a twist, she appeared behind Shen Chang’an, her hands forming a grappling motion, intent on locking him down completely.

If an ordinary person had attempted such a hold on Shen Chang’an, he would have simply leaned back, crushing them to the ground. But the woman in white acted with such confidence because she had another trump card.

Her arms locked around Shen Chang’an, successfully restraining him. At the same time, the jade bracelet at her wrist shimmered faintly, releasing a mysterious energy. Shen Chang’an immediately felt his internal power stagnate, its flow becoming sluggish and unresponsive.

Simultaneously, the woman’s wrists seemed to blur and fade, taking on the semblance of a ghostly apparition—ordinary physical attacks would simply pass through.

She whispered in Shen Chang’an’s ear, “The Vajra Lock combined with the Phantom Spirit Body—though these are lesser arts, they’re perfectly suited to dealing with you. Well? Care to negotiate?”

Shen Chang’an’s expression did not change as he replied resolutely, “A few petty sorceries, and you think you can restrain me?”

He suddenly opened his mouth wide and drew a deep breath. Instantly, the vital energies of the world around him churned violently, crashing into his body.

At that moment, Shen Chang’an cast all caution aside, driving the Nine-Breath Intake Art to its utmost, accelerating the circulation of vital energy and forcefully drawing it into himself. The surging power swept through him like a storm, propelling his own energy and breaking through the confines of the Vajra Lock.

While the Vajra Lock could suppress his spiritual power and neutralize his Divine Strength, the Fasting and Nine-Breath Intake Arts required no such power; a single thought could summon the world’s vital energy.

With the lock broken, Shen Chang’an inhaled again, and the shattered bed board flew to his mouth. Clenching the plank between his teeth, he thrust it in front of himself, piercing through the woman’s ghostly arm.

At the sight, the woman’s face shifted dramatically. She was no true ghost; her body had entered a spirit state through dark arts, but it could not last. If Shen Chang’an left the plank there, the moment her power waned and she reverted to flesh, her arm would be destroyed.

She was no match for Shen Chang’an—she lacked an art like Fasting to continually restore her strength. The Phantom Spirit technique drained her considerably; if she persisted, not only would her power be exhausted, but her very life would be shortened.

Her only option was to release Shen Chang’an and retreat while she still could, or else face her arm being impaled when her power failed.

As for strangling Shen Chang’an by maintaining the spirit form—pure fantasy. She’d assumed that with his spiritual power sealed, Shen Chang’an would be at her mercy and could be strangled. She’d not expected that the Fasting and Nine-Breath Intake Arts required no power to use—no matter how long she held on, Shen Chang’an could always replenish himself.

With no other choice, she let go and quickly distanced herself from him.

Shen Chang’an did not press the attack. Instead, he picked up his alloy staff, turned, and said quietly, “This room is barely a dozen paces across. If you stay here, I can kill you at any time.”

The woman replied coldly, “There’s only one window here. If I leap out, there’s nowhere to land outside—I’d have to use lightness skill to escape, and you could kill me mid-air with a simple stone.”

“You still have your spirit technique, don’t you?”

“If I didn’t know that you, Daoist Shen, are a master of talismans, I might actually try to escape that way,” she said expressionlessly.

Had she tried, Shen Chang’an could simply have grabbed a Ghost-Slaying Talisman, smeared it onto anything, and thrown it out—she’d be doomed. In spirit form, the talisman would force her back to corporeal shape and kill her; in flesh, he’d kill her outright. Escape was impossible, and even the thought of diving underground in spirit form was futile—she was no true ghost, and phasing through earth would drain her rapidly. Before she could begin, Shen Chang’an would simply hit her with a talisman.

Thus, she dared not move. Shen Chang’an, wary of further tricks, did not rush her but stood ready, waiting for a misstep.

“This one is far too cautious,” the woman thought resentfully. If Shen Chang’an had attacked recklessly, she’d have had her chance; now, with his slow approach, she had none. If she had, she’d have used it when he turned for his staff.

“Daoist, care to make a deal?” she asked softly.

“No need,” Shen Chang’an replied, his voice flat, the refusal absolute.

“Don’t be so hasty to refuse. This deal would benefit us both.”

“I have nothing to discuss with the likes of you. Whatever you offer cannot outweigh my conscience.”

He recalled his first days in this world, nearly killed by the White Lotus Sect, and the horrors he’d witnessed—the boiling of human flesh, the skull rising from the pot. Such memories filled him with murderous intent. These were cannibals—what was there to discuss?

“Don’t be so quick to refuse. If you hear what I have to say, you won’t turn me down…”

A confident look crossed her face as she began to explain.

When she finished, Shen Chang’an’s grip on his staff tightened, his expression darkening. “Is what you say true?”

She smiled. “Would I dare deceive you, Daoist Shen? I came here for Fort Fang. If you join me in the search, you’ll see for yourself whether I speak the truth.”

“Leave the location and you may go,” he said.

She was startled, then shook her head. “No, I must…”

“Don’t make me say it a third time. Leave the location, then go!” Shen Chang’an’s eyes flashed gold, and a searing aura surrounded his wrist—the pure Yang energy he’d accumulated these past days.

She immediately understood—Shen Chang’an could kill her with a single blow.

Her sorcery was utterly countered by this pure Yang energy, and in a contest of orthodox arts, she was no match for him. One touch and she’d die. Any further trickery would not be tolerated.

Teeth clenched, she said, “Very well. Not far outside Fort Fang lies a summer villa—the thing you seek is within.”

“A summer villa…” Shen Chang’an pondered but made no move to let her go.

“If you don’t believe me, ask around. Many in Fort Fang have been to the villa and returned with great wealth. Yet anyone who tries to search for it cannot find it, no matter what.”

“An illusion?” Shen Chang’an asked.

“Yes. In fact, there’s something odd about the entire mountain, but I haven’t figured it out. You’ll have to investigate yourself.” She relayed the information quickly, watching him closely for any sign of betrayal.

But Shen Chang’an did not act against her. “Your name.”

She hesitated, then said through clenched teeth, “Li Qingqing.”

“Good. I’ll remember your name. If I ever hear of you harming others, I’ll find you, wherever you are, and kill you. And if you dare show yourself to me again, you’ll die all the same.”

“You…” Li Qingqing’s face turned ashen—she’d not expected such a declaration.

“Remember it well. Now leave, and may we never meet again.”

“Shen Chang’an, the green hills remain, and the waters flow on. Who knows what will come of our next encounter!”

With that, Li Qingqing leaped from the window and vanished into the night.

Once she’d gone, Shen Chang’an called, “Come in.”

A lively figure slipped into the room, grinning mischievously at Shen Chang’an. “I kept everyone else out—didn’t spoil your fun, did I?”

Shen Chang’an shot her a look. “Had you barged in, I’d have just killed her on the spot.”

Zheng Xin shrugged. “It’s not that easy. She’s skilled but not enough to catch me.”

Shen Chang’an shook his head softly. “You only saw the surface. Who knows what other tricks she had? I could sense that, had I truly gone all out, things might not have gone as I expected.”

“Oh? Daoist, you’re finally talking like one of those mystics.” Zheng Xin teased.

Shen Chang’an sighed helplessly. “Perhaps I’m overthinking.”

“Still, I have a question—how did she find you?” Zheng Xin wondered.

Shen Chang’an frowned. Li Qingqing couldn’t have been after him specifically—she had no knowledge of his movements. He’d only arrived so quickly thanks to Master Jade Toad’s help. There was no way she could have predicted his arrival.

Moreover, they’d started from the same location, but he’d had the advantage of Jade Toad’s assistance, while Li Qingqing must have relied on White Lotus methods. She must have encountered other White Lotus members in the process, and if she’d been targeting him, she’d not have come alone.

“Then she must have stumbled upon me in the city and decided to act tonight.”

After hearing his reasoning, Zheng Xin nodded. “Makes sense. We didn’t take any steps to hide ourselves while dining today.”

Shen Chang’an nodded. He hadn’t expected Li Qingqing to show up, so he’d made no effort to conceal his presence.

“A miscalculation, but at least White Lotus can’t infiltrate Fort Fang.”

“Be careful. White Lotus is powerful—they dare oppose the Da Qian court and have many experts. Most are useless, but some wield sinister arts. If they target you, you’ll have a hard time,” Zheng Xin warned.

Shen Chang’an was in no mood for levity and nodded in agreement.

“But don’t worry. Many stand against White Lotus—not all fall to them. They’re formidable, but the fate of Da Qian hasn’t run out yet—they can’t do as they please,” Zheng Xin said, thinking Shen Chang’an was unsettled.

Shen Chang’an smiled but said nothing more. His hand slipped to the ancient beast-hide book in his robe.

If he could unlock a powerful enough divine art this time, he’d have greater confidence when facing White Lotus.

He did not fear them—but neither was he arrogant enough to think he could easily defeat them. This was only one female disciple, and already her skill was so impressive. Who knew how many masters lurked within the sect?

For now, his own reputation was not widely known, and he hadn’t disrupted any of their major plans, so they left him alone. But the day would come when their paths crossed again—and then, things would not end so easily.

At that moment, the ancient beast-hide book suddenly trembled, and a strange message surged forth from within, causing Shen Chang’an’s face to change dramatically.