The Trap

"Everything I promised you has been fulfilled," he said silently in his heart to the lingering will of his original self. "Now it's your turn." From the depths of his mind came what seemed like a faint, barely audible sigh. He Lingchuan felt an uncommon sense of peace: *At last, I am free.* And then, those tangled, conflicted emotions melted away like frost under a blazing sun, evaporating completely without leaving a trace behind. He Lingchuan suddenly felt lighter than he ever had before. It was the lightness of a burden lifted from the heart, the freedom of a body wholly and truly under his own command, and the clarity born of severing so many restless thoughts and stray impulses at their root. All along, it turned out, he had been moving forward weighed down by the inner demon of his original self. Now that the original self was liberated and had departed, complete control was finally surrendered to him. With the consciousness belonging to the original self completely dispersed, this body and this sea of consciousness belonged entirely and irrevocably to him. Upon his path of cultivation, an invisible boulder had just been cleared away. In that very instant, He Lingchuan's six senses sharpened, his spiritual awareness turned clear and lucid, and a tempest seemed to rage within his mind. Qiu Hu immediately sensed it, and when he turned his head, he jumped in shock. Brilliant light flared in He Lingchuan's eyes as an aura gathered around him; pebbles beside him shuddered incessantly, and a few grains of sand even floated into the air. "Young Master!" Qiu Hu's palm brushed He Lingchuan's shoulder, only to be repelled by a powerful recoil. A breakthrough? Advancing one's cultivation was an incredible blessing, but... here? He quickly pulled back his hand and warned in a hushed whisper, "You must not!" Now was hardly the time. He Lingchuan knew this as well, and waved a hand to show he understood. Surging true qi poured from his sea of consciousness, soaring like a dragon and surging straight to batter against his Yintang point without so much as asking for his consent! The cultivation method he practiced required opening three dantians: the upper dantian at the Yintang, the middle dantian at the Shanzhong, and the lower dantian at the Qihai. Previously, both the Shanzhong and Qihai had already been opened, his true qi successfully liquefied, and both reservoirs were nearly filled to the brim. Only the upper dantian at the Yintang point had He Lingchuan long hesitated to touch. If that area were not opened properly, it could cause brain damage. After the upheaval in the Heavenly Palace, his mental state and cultivation had made immense strides, yet He Lingchuan had intuitively known he was not quite there yet. He had remained just one final step away from the next realm. Haste would do more harm than good, so he had dared not act rashly. He had not expected that once the original self's consciousness faded, that faint, elusive mental barrier would simply melt away. In ancient times, when cultivators formally set foot upon the supreme immortal path, there was a crucial threshold known as "severing the three corpses"—wielding the sword of wisdom to cut down greed, wrath, delusion, resentment, and all manner of wicked and wandering thoughts, along with every obscure or unenlightened inclination. When stripped to its core, it came down to simply letting go. If the Three Corpse Worms were not eliminated, they would sooner or later sink into the depths of consciousness and manifest as inner demons that obstructed cultivation. How many cultivators blessed with peerless bone structure and brilliant natural talent had ultimately fallen to the backlash of their inner demons? The only person who could enlighten you was yourself. The only person who could comfort you was yourself. That was why it was as difficult as ascending to heaven. By seeing off the last wisp of the original self's intent and resolving the entanglements of mortal karma, He Lingchuan had unwittingly aligned with the true essence of wielding the sword of wisdom to slay inner demons. The obstacle that had blocked his path for so long vanished into nothingness. Yet the timing was entirely wrong. He Lingchuan dared not attempt a breakthrough here! Last time, when he opened his middle dantian in the forests of the Jeweled Tree Kingdom, it had taken two or three days of total absorption—and only succeeded at the cost of detonating a mountain spirit. With the Panlong Realm teeming with perils, would he dare close his eyes, shut his ears, and break through on his own? Moreover, after witnessing the anomalies in the sky, his confidence in the Dafang Pot's promises had wavered. One's own life had to be guarded by one's own eyes. Thus, no matter how eager his true power was to surge forth, he racked his brains and used every gentle, coaxing effort to persuade it to retreat back down to the middle and lower dantians, saving the ascent to the upper gate for another day. *It's within reach anyway, no rush, no rush.* The true power was most reluctant. After all, its innate drive was to conquer new territory, and the chance to break through was something one could only stumble upon, never force. Fortunately, He Lingchuan's control over his body and true power was far greater than before. No matter how much it acted up, he managed bit by bit to guide it back onto the proper course and press it down into his dantians. The process was tortuous and prolonged. He Lingchuan was utterly focused, not even daring to break into a sweat—it was agonizingly painful. Not to mention, the surrounding environment had already begun to shift: Faint movement came from ahead to the left. Had Qiu Hu's hearing and spiritual perception not been exceptional, he wouldn't even have sensed the presence. He Chunhua? No. From behind a low wall, a speck of golden light suddenly drifted out, neither hurried nor slow, circling General Red's Cenotaph twice. A lamp spirit? He Lingchuan and Qiu Hu exchanged glances. Had Zhang Lianhai arrived? Lamp spirits were exceedingly useful; whether taking the vanguard or scouting enemy movements, deploying them was standard practice for the Heavenly Palace. Having finished its reconnaissance without detecting anything amiss, it came to a halt. A short moment later, ten figures emerged from behind the low wall directly opposite He Lingchuan, dashing toward General Red's Cenotaph. Eh? Their faces were completely unfamiliar; none were Zhang Lianhai or his men. Yet judging by their footwork and bearing, they were more than a cut above Zhang Lianhai's subordinates. He Lingchuan paused, then realization dawned: *Is this the other team the Heavenly Palace kept concealed? No wonder Zhang Lianhai only brought a dozen or so men in—turns out they were merely the vanguard, sent to test the waters.* Hearing that something unusual had occurred in the Panlong Desert, other groups had arrived eager to scavenge treasures and reap easy gains. But the Heavenly Palace had suffered greatly at He Lingchuan's hands; they wanted not only to uncover the mysteries of the Dafang Pot, but also to settle scores with the treasure thief. Not putting all their deployed forces on the table, but instead using one portion as bait while keeping the rest lurking for an opportune moment, was indeed a sensible strategy. Still, who was the leader of this group? He Lingchuan could not tell at a glance. If even Zhang Lianhai, a lamp warden, was merely bait, then the expert dispatched by the Heavenly Palace had to outrank Zhang Lianhai in status and cultivation. The group hurried toward the mound, and one of them suddenly pointed at the ground. "Our candle!" Resting in the excavated earth of the grave was half of a white candle dusted with gold, noticeable only at close quarters. The man picked it up and inspected the base. "It's Warden Zhang's candle!" "There are bloodstains here too!" Zhang Lianhai's candle had fallen into General Red's Cenotaph? He Lingchuan's mind stirred. If you couldn't even protect your own lamp spirit, what right did you have to be called a lamp warden? So with the leftover candle and bloodstains, Zhang Lianhai meeting an untimely end was confirmed. Oh, so the unlucky souls who perished earlier were them! The visitors from the Heavenly Palace up ahead were equally agitated and uneasy. "Look at General Red's armor! Is that the Dafang Pot?" "Quick, take it! We must rendezvous with Emissary He at once!" He Lingchuan and Qiu Hu traded looks, both seeing the surprise in each other's eyes. From where they stood, they couldn't see the interior of the grave. Was the Dafang Pot truly inside General Red's Cenotaph? Furthermore, this group had evidently been separated from their leader within the Panlong Ruins. Their leader was surnamed He, and was also a Duyun Emissary? Mmh, a Duyun Emissary named He? The names of the leaders of Zhaixing Tower had long spread throughout Lingxu City. He Lingchuan hadn't even needed to ask around; the day Old Ge the gibbon served as their tour guide up Mount Xu, he had already briefed them on such common knowledge. There were four Duyun Emissaries, and only one was surnamed He—He Jing! In seniority, this man ranked even above Bai Ziqi. But He Lingchuan had also heard the Imperial Academy students gossiping that Bai Ziqi had risen meteorically in recent years, eclipsing the other Duyun Emissaries, to the point that even the Chief Duyun Emissary was said to be considering him as successor. Now the Heavenly Palace had actually sent He Jing, one of the four Duyun Emissaries, to take charge of the situation in the Panlong Desert. That showed just how much importance they placed on the Dafang Pot and the treasure thief. Yet deep down, He Lingchuan actually felt a sense of relief. He had witnessed Bai Ziqi's capabilities; the other Duyun Emissaries were likely not far behind. If Emissary He Jing had remained outside Panlong City entirely, directing operations or surveilling from the desert, He Lingchuan would have felt a chill down his spine—that would have been exceptionally troublesome. Yet judging by these men's words, He Jing had entered as well. In that case... this was the Dafang Pot's domain, and He Lingchuan's home turf. If He Lingchuan ended up confronting Emissary He, his greatest advantage was that He Jing knew very little about the divine wonders of the Dafang Pot— Even He Lingchuan didn't know what on earth this pot was doing; on what basis would He Jing know? Just as the Heavenly Palace visitors were about to seize the Dafang Pot from the grave, the building behind the stone stele suddenly moved! This had originally appeared to be a tall watchtower backed by an entire row of houses, all looking dilapidated and ruined, completely indistinguishable from any other buildings in Panlong City. Yet the moment they began to stir, they instantly shifted in color and form, transforming into an entirely different shape in less than two breaths! The "tower" was actually an enormous white-furred Que beast; even sitting down, it stood five zhang tall! If it stood up, its height would surpass most buildings in the Panlong Ruins. One of He Jing's guards gasped under his breath, "A yeti?" Such a colossal behemoth actually straightened its spine and stood upright like a human! Monsters like the ghost-faced apes always hunched their backs, rarely standing fully erect. Yet this creature's body-to-leg proportions were almost identical to a human's, except that its overall dimensions were astonishingly vast. Anything magnified to such scale was terrifying. The visage of a ghost-faced ape was already hideous beyond praise, but the horrific countenance of this white-furred giant was magnified tenfold. Its cheeks even bore red, blue, and black markings, like war paint applied before battle. Yet it had seven or eight wounds across its body; blood dripped down from the base of its neck, soaking its snow-white fur, and worst of all, a massive gash was carved into its waist, faintly revealing the internal organs within. They had no time to wonder how it came to be wounded, because the moment this behemoth made its entrance, it swatted away the lamp spirit hovering in the air like a firefly. How it managed this was unknown. Though lamp spirits were said to be incorporeal and formless, after being swatted, its brilliance dimmed noticeably and its movements slowed, clearly having suffered heavy injury from that single blow. The Heavenly Palace party went pale with shock. Though each possessed their own divine arts, the lamp spirit remained their greatest reliance. Today, this monster that appeared out of nowhere had injured the lamp spirit with a casual swat of its hand? Then the giant monster reached out again and seized the man trying to retrieve the Dafang Pot. Its agility formed a stark contrast with its cumbersome bulk. The man couldn't even dodge, and with a wet squelch, he was crushed until he burst! The buildings beside the giant beast also transformed into a dozen monsters resembling it, only several sizes smaller.