At that moment, Wang Ping felt his scalp tingle.
Yet before any emotion could show, he suppressed it with his potent spiritual sense, leaving his face fixed in a mask of total bewilderment.
"Good disciple? Me?"
Admittedly, his physical appearance had not fundamentally changed between lives. But given the gap in age and his deliberate attempts at disguise, his looks were hardly identical. At the very least, he was not recognizable at a glance.
Besides, his predecessor's death had occurred in plain view of a crowd. His body was probably buried by now—ironclad proof. Who could have imagined he had actually returned to life? Look-alikes in this world were a dime a dozen.
*The old bastard is probably bluffing me... I can't admit it, not even if it kills me!*
As Wang Ping weighed his thoughts, Shouchong's expression remained utterly calm. The old man merely chuckled softly and closed his mouth.
A second later, a voice sounded right beside Wang Ping's ear.
"Good disciple, there is no need to deny it."
"Others might fail to recognize you, but not I."
"Besides, rising from the dead is no rare marvel in this world. Many figures of great virtue possess such power. Your master experienced it once as well."
Wang Ping's astonishment grew. The only small comfort was that Shouchong had not spoken aloud; he seemed to be using some secret voice transmission technique to converse with him. Even so, the sensation of having his secret laid bare so abruptly made Wang Ping grind his teeth in silence.
On the other side, Shouchong's voice continued:
"Clearly, you, like me, received the mercy of a figure of great virtue... What surprises me, however, is how you managed to become a county yamen constable."
At that point, Shouchong looked at Wang Ping.
His expression was exceedingly gentle. Wang Ping could not detect a sliver of malice from him—in fact, the man exuded pure goodwill as he asked, "Well? Can you share it with me?"
"Which figure of great virtue granted you their mercy?"
"Mine was Liansheng Bodhisattva."
When the words finished, Wang Ping offered no reply. He kept his silence, his thoughts racing, and finally arrived at an answer that allowed him to breathe a quiet sigh of relief:
*He doesn't know!*
His resurrection was founded upon the mighty power of the Classic of Great Peace. As for figures of great virtue or Liansheng Bodhisattva, Wang Ping knew nothing about them.
*What kind of nonsense is that?*
Wang Ping sensed that something was amiss. Judging by Shouchong's words, at least within the old man's understanding, so-called figures of great virtue truly possessed the power to raise the dead.
*Are you kidding me?*
*Isn't this godforsaken place just a pure martial world? Why does it sound like the waters run pretty deep!* Wang Ping rapidly weighed his options.
He could not let this old bastard keep the upper hand.
With that thought, Wang Ping finally broke his silence. "Speaking of which, hasn't the White Lotus Sect lost most of its fortune?"
At those words, Shouchong's voice abruptly hitched. Soon regaining his composure, he smiled and said, "A trifling amount of fortune is hardly of great consequence."
Wang Ping nodded slightly. "Hit a nerve, did I?"
"..."
Shouchong went silent. Between heaven and earth, nothing remained save the sweeping rush of rain and the rumble of thunder across the sky, conjuring a stifling atmosphere of slaughter.
Almost simultaneously, Wang Ping's heart jolted. His spiritual sense quivered violently, and goosebumps erupted over his flesh as an overwhelming brush with death seized him. The very instant the premonition arose, Shouchong, who had stood over a dozen paces away, was already before the carriage, a hand clawing toward him.
*He's making his move...!*
With that reach, Wang Ping clearly perceived the changes throughout Shouchong's body. Power rose from the earth, surged up his spine, and spread into his limbs, qi and blood exploding in every fiber.
What seemed like a casual grasp was driven by far more than a mere hand.
It was driven by his entire being!
Calves, thighs, liver and gallbladder, viscera, abdominal muscles, waist, back, spine... The force of his whole body loaded into his right hand like an artillery shell and detonated outward.
Rumble!
Before the palm even struck home, a savage gale blew Wang Ping's hair straight back, blurring his vision and setting the muscles of his face trembling.
This was no attempt to capture him; it was a strike meant to shatter his skull!
Such a furious onslaught was beyond anything the current Wang Ping could withstand. The only thing he could do was widen his eyes and memorize Shouchong's movements.
He wanted to learn it!
Instinct told him that mastering this method of twisting his entire body's force into a single thread and unleashing it in a burst would bring immense benefit to his future martial arts.
Besides—he did not believe Chen Haoyan would truly sit by and watch.
After all, if he died just like that, the Lotus Blade would genuinely fall into someone else's hands. How then could Chen Haoyan shift the blame away?
As it turned out, his judgment was correct.
The instant before Shouchong's palm crushed Wang Ping, a sharp hissing sound tore through the air, and Wang Ping's vision snapped backward.
This was not of his own doing. In truth, though his spiritual sense allowed him to perceive Shouchong's exertion and movements clearly, he had been entirely unable to react. He was not a genuine immortal cultivator, and his spiritual sense was far too fragile; nor was Shouchong a mundane martial artist bound by ordinary logic.
What had truly saved him was an outside force.
A second later, Wang Ping caught sight of his savior—a pitch-black serpent as thick as a water vat and nearly a hundred feet long!
Such a colossal creature had concealed itself around the carriage in absolute silence, its qi and blood completely hidden. Even Wang Ping's spiritual sense had failed to detect it beforehand!
*Is this kind of creature even something nature can produce?!*
Its towering coils wrapped tightly around the carriage, shielding it completely, while the very tip of its tail was what had pulled Wang Ping from certain death.
Immediately after, its icy vertical pupils locked onto Shouchong.
In a split second, Shouchong's descending palm held its course, striking straight down, while the black serpent reared its head to meet force with force, slamming forward without hesitation!
Bang!
A brilliant spark bloomed in the rain, only to vanish an instant later. The black serpent recoiled, its head swaying slightly on the spot as though dazed.
Shouchong, meanwhile, took a few effortless steps backward. Ignoring the serpent right before him, he raised his head to gaze at a distant high rooftop. Following his gaze, Wang Ping saw that at some point, a figure had appeared upon the eaves.
It was a strikingly handsome Daoist.
Like Shouchong, he stood amidst the curtain of rain without a single drop touching him. Dressed in a yin-yang Daoist robe, he wore a faint smile, his every movement radiating calm composure.
"... Perfected Youshen?"
Shouchong spoke slowly, his tone laced with surprise. "An imperial thaumaturge voluntarily stepping out of his sanctuary... You have broken a grave taboo, Perfected."
Astride the eaves, the handsome Daoist shook his head. "A naive notion."
"There has never been any taboo. The only reason we do not leave our sanctuaries or set foot in the red dust is simply that it is not worth our while, nor is there any need."
"Oh?"
Shouchong's eyes shifted slightly. "In other words, your personal venture into the red dust is worth it this time... May I ask, what did Chen Haoyan offer you?"
"It couldn't possibly be my Lotus Blade. Could it be..."
"You need not trouble yourself with that."
With a flick of his wide sleeve, a jade flute appeared in Perfected Youshen's hand, and a sharp edge of murderous intent crept into his voice. "Besides, you talk too much."
"Hahaha!"
At this, Shouchong burst into laughter instead. "I see! So that's how it is! What a man, that Chen Haoyan! Relying on the fact that heaven is high and the emperor is far away, he dared to commit such a monstrous outrage!"
Shouchong's tone turned entirely certain. "It's the Longxing County seal, isn't it? The symbol of the imperial court in Longxing County, a ritual vessel used to gather the incense of the masses! Only a ritual vessel of that caliber could tempt you, Perfected, even driving you to break custom and leave your sanctuary in person to deal with me."
"..."
Perfected Youshen gave no answer, though the killing intent in his eyes grew sharper. His silence was confirmation enough: Shouchong's guess had hit the mark.
The next instant, the notes of a flute sounded.
Perfected Youshen brought the green jade flute to his lips and began to play. A mournful, melodious tune rippled out beneath the sheet of rain.
Almost simultaneously, the still serpent seemed to receive a new command. Its massive coils surged toward Shouchong once more. Its bloody maw gaped open, spewing foul, poisonous vapor, its razor fangs sharp enough to shear through iron, looking as though it meant to swallow Shouchong whole!
At the critical juncture, Shouchong pulled back. The serpent struck empty air, its head churning up a cloud of dust and debris, yet its ferocity did not wane as it lunged toward Shouchong again.
Swish! Swish!
Beneath the curtain of rain, flashes of white light like crackling lightning vanished in the blink of an eye. By the time they could be distinguished, they had already struck Perfected Youshen—Shouchong's signature flying daggers!
Even though he was not wielding the Lotus Blade, Shouchong's cultivation was such that even a stray leaf in his hands could serve as a lethal weapon. The hurled daggers detonated the instant they hit Perfected Youshen, their shattered iron fragments packed with internal force, blooming outward like a lotus.
Bloom of a Single Thought!
Perfected Youshen was swallowed up in an instant, the shockwave blasting the surrounding rain away. The scene made Wang Ping recall the artificial rockery that had been blown to smithereens the other day.
Yet he realized the truth a heartbeat later.
*No blood...!*
The so-called Bloom of a Single Thought did not merely describe the speed and power of the thrown blades; it described the aftermath—whenever a blade flew, blossoms of blood were meant to follow.
Yet now, Wang Ping saw no blood blossom.
In other words, the strike had achieved nothing.
A second later, the churning rainwater splashed down, the dust cleared, and the scene came into focus once more. Perfected Youshen stood where he had been, entirely unharmed.
"Petty tricks..."
The handsome Daoist offered a mocking smirk, then blew into his jade flute with greater force, driving the black serpent onward to attack Shouchong.
Just then, a thunderous roar abruptly cut through the battle in the rain.
Boom!
The sound came from the distance—specifically, from Wang Ping's destination, Shenghua Ward in the eastern city, echoing out from Youshen Temple.
In an instant, Perfected Youshen's calm composure vanished. Without sparing another glance for Shouchong, he spun toward Youshen Temple. The moment he caught sight of the rising flames and smoke, his expression froze. Only after several seconds did he force out a strained sound:
"... Chen Haoyan?"
For the first time, fury tinged his voice, mixed with disbelief and shock. Shouchong, by contrast, wore an unsurprised look.
"Just as I expected."
"If he dared to stake even the Longxing County seal, trespassing into a thaumaturge's sanctuary is hardly out of the question. Perfected, you've been played for a fool!"
Ignoring him, Perfected Youshen had no thought left for the Longxing County seal inside the carriage. He moved to rush back at once, only for Shouchong to bar his path.
Their roles abruptly reversed.
"Are you accomplices?" Perfected Youshen demanded, his voice chilling.
"Hardly."
Shouchong shook his head and replied evenly, "Our thoughts merely happened to align. As such, I cannot let you return now to spoil the fun."
"The night is long and dreary. Why not stay and have a good chat with me, Perfected? I've always been quite curious about thaumaturges. Returning by dawn won't be too late."
"You court death!"
Beneath the rain, Shouchong, Perfected Youshen, and the colossal black serpent clashed once more. The sound of their collision drowned out the thunder overhead, roaring like a tempest.
Entangled in combat, their figures rapidly receded into the distance.
Chen Haoyan, Shouchong, Perfected Youshen.
Each harbored grand ambitions. Yet for that very reason, every one of them had forgotten that inside the carriage sat an insignificant nobody.
...
Wang Ping opened his eyes.
"So that's how it is."
Only now did he truly grasp Chen Haoyan's scheme.
*Shifting the blame to deal with Shouchong was merely the surface of the plan—a story concocted for outside eyes, a diversion.*
*So that was the purpose of the Longxing County seal. The incense of the masses? Perfected Youshen needed it badly, and Chen Haoyan used it to tempt him into stepping in... But this was the true ploy of luring the tiger from its mountain. The one being lured wasn't Shouchong; it was Perfected Youshen!*
The outcome had been flawless.
Perfected Youshen had been drawn out and locked in combat with Shouchong, leaving Youshen Temple undefended and giving Chen Haoyan the opening to break inside.
"... Hmph."
At the thought, Wang Ping sneered. Clearly, in making these arrangements, Chen Haoyan had treated him as a completely disposable pawn.
A one-in-ten chance of survival?
In his plan, Wang Ping had never been meant to make it out alive!
*The only reason I'm still breathing is that his plan hit a snag... Shouchong, that old bastard, happened to think along the same lines.*
Thus Shouchong, who ought to have been desperate to claim the Lotus Blade, made no move to seize it even when Perfected Youshen withdrew. Instead, he raced against time to stop Perfected Youshen from returning, inadvertently creating a gap that allowed Wang Ping to survive.
*Because I'm not worth mentioning.*
He had no bearing on the grand design. Whether it was Chen Haoyan, Shouchong, or Perfected Youshen, any of them could crush him at a whim.
"That beast..."
Wang Ping gritted his teeth, looking at the Lotus Blade before him and the Longxing County seal within the hollowed stand, his understanding of Chen Haoyan's calculations growing clearer still.
*That bastard probably never intended to give up the Longxing County seal from the start. He knew that the moment something went wrong at Youshen Temple, Perfected Youshen would abandon everything to rush back. Meanwhile, Shouchong's target was the Lotus Blade, and he had no idea the county seal was hidden in the carriage.*
Therefore, the Longxing County seal would ultimately return safely to his hands.
As long as the item was not lost in the end, handing it over midway or nearly losing it was a trivial matter that could be dismissed over three rounds of penalty drinks.
As for a young constable dying in the line of duty, that wasn't even worth calling an incident.
*If I run now, I might survive.*
Even so, Wang Ping made no move. He did not even leave the carriage, merely sitting there in silence before letting out a long breath.
He could not swallow this insult.
In the twenty years since his transmigration, he had joined the White Lotus Sect to survive, worked as an undercover mole for the county yamen, and walked on thin ice at every step, only to be cast aside like a broken tool the moment he crossed the river.
Before he had a cheat, he had swallowed his grievances.
Now that he had a cheat, was he supposed to swallow them too?
Then what had been the point of transmigrating!
With that thought, Wang Ping reached out, grabbing the Lotus Blade with one hand while smashing the stand with the other to retrieve the Longxing County seal.
Then he looked up and glanced around.
"Nobody wants these? Then I'll be taking them."
The surroundings remained dead silent.
A second later, Wang Ping abandoned all pretense. Channeling the Classic of Great Peace, he took hold of both treasures, refining them in an instant until they dissolved into nothingness.
"Mine now!"
Chapter 18