Considering the racket downstairs, he also cast a soundproofing ward while he was at it.
Once the formation was laid out, he casually picked up a candle from the table, placed it in the center of the formation, and lit it.
Soon, the candle flame stood straight and still.
Then, General Red extended her index and middle fingers and jabbed them straight into the captive's glabella!
Had she wished to, she could easily have punched a hole right through refined iron. Those two fingers indeed pierced between the youth's brows, yet his head did not burst open.
A hazy silhouette was pushed out from the back of his head by General Red.
He Lingchuan recognized at once that this was likely the youth's soul. However, his spirit was not strong; his facial features were extremely indistinct, unable to condense into a detailed face.
While it still hovered dazed and bewildered in midair, General Red produced a half-piece of seabed wood, caught the soul in one swift motion, and stuffed it inside.
The way she moved looked just like someone jamming a crumpled wad of paper into a spool.
Extremely skilled, and utterly casual.
Deprived of his soul, the youth instantly went expressionless.
General Red casually clamped a hand around his neck, slowly applying pressure.
The youth began gasping for breath, his face swelling crimson.
"Come out," General Red said again. "If you don't come out, I'll crush this vessel to pieces."
No sooner had the words left her mouth than the youth's dull, lifeless eyes rolled and suddenly fixed upon General Red.
"Let... let..." Choked, his voice was faint and feeble.
General Red released her grip, allowing him to cough violently several times.
"Long time no see, Mitian," the youth rasped, clutching his neck. "You're as rough as ever!"
The mask on her face quickly dissolved, revealing a countenance as exquisite as an immortal celestial's, yet as cold as porcelain.
Mitian had revealed her true face.
Having finished coughing, the youth pointed at He Lingchuan and ordered casually, "Go, pour me a cup of water."
Mitian gave He Lingchuan a nod as well, whereupon he brought over a cup of hot tea for the captive.
Shi Nan took it and gulped it down in a few swallows.
"Mitian, where on earth is your true body hiding?" He cut out the pleasantries. "The entire divine realm is looking for you. If someone wants to meet you, they even have to project an avatar down to the mortal realm—it's far too inconvenient!"
Mitian remained expressionless. "Do you think I would tell you?"
"I don't care where you are," Shi Nan chuckled. "But Holy Venerable Lingxu cares a great deal about you and wants to catch up on old times."
"He and I have long been like fire and water. Why would he seek me out now?" Mitian's delicate brows knit slightly. "Last time, he sent the Ghost Mother of the Ferry to cause trouble in my territory, and I haven't even settled that score with them yet!"
"You know how they are; they just love stirring up trouble," Shi Nan nodded. "The divine realm has been rather unsettled lately. Have you noticed? The Tianluo Star has been flickering frequently."
Mitian's voice carried not the slightest inflection: "I was in closed-door cultivation. I wouldn't know."
Nice—lying through her teeth. He Lingchuan secretly gave her a thumbs-up; this was his first time witnessing a celestial god tell a blatant lie.
"When the Tianluo Star flickers, it means there's activity from the Dafang Pot," Shi Nan chuckled slyly. "Couldn't have something to do with you, could it?"
"Why would it?"
"The Tianluo Star and the Dafang Pot are both tied to..." Shi Nan glanced toward He Lingchuan at the side, cutting himself off before pivoting. "After that great war in the mortal realm, you've only shown yourself twice. Not long ago, Holy Venerable Lingxu convened the Alliance Council of the Gods, and you didn't attend that either."
"Is that strange?" Mitian said aloofly. "The entire divine realm knows that they and I are irreconcilable."
"Besides, I've also heard that an intriguing little bronze tube has cropped up in the mortal realm." Shi Nan gestured with his hands. "It can collect nightmare energy and deliver it to us through worship and offerings. Have you heard of it?"
He Lingchuan knew he was referring to the Dragon-Torture Pillar.
It seemed Shao Jian's mission was going smoothly; the item had already been disseminated quietly.
Mitian countered, "Do you have one? Show me."
"No, how could I?" Shi Nan sighed. "I'm just a destitute, petty god, an unregistered wild deity you all look down on! Who would offer such a fine treasure to me?"
"Is that so? I'd quite like to see one myself."
Shi Nan drawled, "That thing is truly extraordinary! Whoever holds the Dafang Pot this time, I'd say his ambition is immense—and he's bound to incur the wrath of all!"
"Such an object has never been seen before. Perhaps only the Dafang Pot could create it," he said with a chuckle. "And I'm not the only one who thinks so."
"Why on earth did you come here today?" Mitian asked. For a deity like him, even if it wasn't a full divine descent, commandeering a mortal vessel to deliver a message was no simple feat.
"Just to offer you a word of warning: beware of Holy Venerable Lingxu. His fury isn't something an ordinary god can endure."
Mitian leaned back, the corner of her lips curving slightly. "You're trying to play both sides?"
Shi Nan didn't look embarrassed in the least. He scratched his head. "I finally managed to get a few mortal shrines on Xunyang Sandbar and the Zejia Archipelago. If Empress Mitian could look after me from time to time, that would be wonderful."
Mitian gave him a faint smile. "Get lost."
"Be careful," Shi Nan said, tilting his head toward her. "Someone has already noticed that this vessel of yours is very peculiar."
With that, his head drooped.
Mitian took out the piece of seabed wood and gave it a flick toward him.
That little clump of a soul was tossed out, drifting languidly back into its own body.
The youth awoke, rubbing his eyes, still looking utterly bewildered.
Mitian pointed downstairs and said indifferently, "Throw him out of the city."
He Lingchuan acknowledged the command, helped the youth up, and led him downstairs.
The cold wind blowing in from outside made the youth shiver involuntarily.
Although Mitian's order had been to 'throw' him out, He Lingchuan told the soldiers who came up to meet them, "Escort him out of the city immediately! When passing the market, buy him some flatbread, dried meat, and water."
Saying so, he tossed over some bits of broken silver and said to the youth, "A few li outside the South Gate is a post station. You must have passed it on your way here."
The soldiers acknowledged the order and took charge of the captive, preparing to head out.
The youth suddenly turned his head and said to He Lingchuan, "You little thing, you're quite kindhearted."
Such an old and world-weary tone startled He Lingchuan. "You haven't left yet?"
Had the god Shi Nan's avatar not departed?
Shi Nan finished speaking and turned, intending to follow the soldiers out.
He Lingchuan took a step forward and asked in a low voice, "This isn't a divine descent, is it?"
"Of course not. Otherwise, this vessel would have broken in an instant," Shi Nan rolled his eyes. "I'm merely borrowing his mouth to say a couple of words."
He Lingchuan pressed for time: "Is a divine imprint mark a mark planted on a mortal vessel by a celestial god?"
Hearing this, Shi Nan glanced at him, looking somewhat intrigued. "Why do you ask that?"
"Also, how do you remove a divine imprint mark?"
Shi Nan chuckled softly. "Do I look like a warmhearted soul who goes around solving problems and answering questions for free?"
None of these celestial gods was easy to deal with. He Lingchuan drew a breath. "What's the price?"
"My answers are never free," Shi Nan drawled. "If you want to ask, bring your offerings and seek me out."
Right at that moment, someone smacked the back of his head hard from behind.
"Ouch!" Shi Nan stumbled forward.
By the time he regained his footing, his face was once again filled with bewilderment.
From his eyes, it was clear this was the youth himself. This time, Shi Nan had truly departed.
He Lingchuan turned and saw that the newcomer was General Red, who had already put her mask back on.
Shi Nan had probably been driven off directly by her. She directed the soldiers to take the youth away, then turned to He Lingchuan. "Stay away from celestial gods. Getting close to them always brings disaster."
He Lingchuan coughed lightly.
Wasn't the person right before him the closest to a celestial god of all?
As if knowing what he was thinking, General Red added, "Speaking from experience."
He Lingchuan was reminded of the price she had paid.
Still, he seized the moment to ask one more thing: "By the way, have you ever heard the name 'Nailuotian'? Which great deity is that?"
"Nailuotian?" General Red's voice remained as flat as ever. "Never heard of it."
"..."
Brilliant. That successfully shut down all his remaining questions.
"There are a hundred thousand celestial gods; Mitian couldn't possibly know every single one," General Red said, standing side by side with him. "The Gale Army has fewer than a hundred thousand men—do you know every one of them?"
He Lingchuan could only shake his head with a wry smile. He could barely name around two hundred people; beyond that, he was completely at a loss.
Just then, a cry of pain rang out from up ahead. He Lingchuan turned to look and saw that "One-Eye" had knocked his opponent off the platform.
The official presiding over the arena struck a gong at the same time: "This bout concludes here!"
The number of challengers allowed on stage was limited; otherwise, it would be an overt war of attrition, which was unfair to the defending champion.
"Your arena will be open soon," General Red said, pointing. "Aren't you going up?"
"No," He Lingchuan answered honestly. "I have a matter of life and death to take care of soon. I'm feeling a bit nervous."
"Nervous?" General Red asked him. "Must it be done?"
"Yes, it must," He Lingchuan replied with a wry smile. "And the odds of success aren't high."
Although every step was proceeding in an orderly fashion, the date of execution was drawing closer and closer—how could he not be nervous?
He was facing Beijia, a colossal power rarely rivaled in this world.
He was facing the celestial gods who had secretly thrown the world into turmoil for thousands of years.
The immortals had been defeated by their hands.
Countless human kingdoms had vanished because of Beijia.
Now, he was going to pluck whiskers from a tiger's mouth and stir up trouble right on the Grand Duke's head—and he would be doing it single-handedly.
It would be strange if he weren't nervous!
"Broken Saber," General Red said suddenly. "You're afraid of dying, aren't you?"
"I..." He Lingchuan opened his mouth to argue, but swallowed down the words "I'm not."
Why was he nervous? He was afraid of failure.
Where he was going was a tiger's den and a dragon's lair. Once he failed, no matter how many backup plans he prepared in advance, he might still find death unavoidable.
The worst-case scenario was death.
"...Yes." So General Red was right; he was afraid of death.
He feared that after all this elaborate planning, it would vanish into nothingness in the blink of an eye.
"Mortals fear consequences, while immortals fear causes," General Red said slowly. "I don't know what you intend to do, but if you dare sow the seed today, you must bear the fruit tomorrow."
He Lingchuan nodded. "I know."
A man had to bear the responsibility for his own actions.
General Red patted his shoulder and added, "I have a good way to keep you from feeling nervous."
He Lingchuan couldn't see her face, but for some reason, he felt that she was smiling.
He didn't ask "what way," because a sudden sense of foreboding hit him.
Killing intent!
In the next instant, the hand General Red had placed on his shoulder shifted from a pat to a grip, and with a heave, she swung him straight out!
He Lingchuan's weight of well over a hundred jin felt as light as a walnut in her grasp.
Fast—far too fast!
By the time He Lingchuan reacted, he was already airborne.
He instinctively adjusted his upside-down posture, executed an agile swallow's twirl to land lightly on his feet, and only then discovered that he was standing on a stage!
His Arena No. 7.
Chapter 679