Happy Looting

"Chu Liang!" Song Qingyi cried out in anguish.

She rushed to Chu Liang's side, where his face was still pale and dim beneath the candlelight. Just as her tears were about to fall, she suddenly sensed something was amiss.

Huh?

She could move again?

Puzzled, she glanced at Chu Liang and saw his clear, bright eyes suddenly flicker with life once more.

"Ah..." Chu Liang exhaled deeply and collapsed to the ground.

The split second just now had been the most perilous moment of his life.

From the moment he was dragged into the thatched hut by the man in black robes and laid eyes on the soul-capturing array, a bold idea had taken root in his mind.

Faced with a demonic cultivator at the Golden Core stage—a power against which he had no hope of resistance—it seemed like a certain death sentence. If the man in black had simply killed Song Qingyi and Chu Liang outright, they would have stood no chance. But, seeking to preserve the integrity of their souls, he had chosen to extract them directly instead.

Normally, there would be little difference.

But then, Chu Liang suddenly recalled a reward that had once disappointed him.

The Soul-Shifting Spell!

If there was even a sliver of hope for a reversal, perhaps... it would lie in this.

So, he had struggled with all his might—not in a futile death throe, but to turn his body, shielding one hand behind his back so he could discreetly retrieve the jade talisman from the White Tower.

That was why, when the black-robed man decided to start with Song Qingyi, Chu Liang had hurled insults to enrage him, forcing him to attack Chu Liang first.

As expected, the black-robed man fell into the trap. The moment he began to extract Chu Liang's soul, Chu Liang activated the white jade talisman.

The talisman shattered instantly, and the Soul-Shifting Spell took effect at once.

Chu Liang's soul and the black-robed man's soul swapped places for a brief instant.

Upon entering the black-robed man's body, Chu Liang felt his senses momentarily stripped away. Then, his perception returned, but he still couldn't move.

It was as if his entire body had gone numb, like a limb pressed too long beneath him in sleep—foreign and unresponsive. Now that sensation flooded his whole being, leaving him immobilized.

Fortunately, the stiffness would last only three breaths.

At the same time, the black-robed man was horrified to find himself inexplicably inside Chu Liang's body—only for the dark light from the Underworld Scripture to fall upon "his" form.

His soul didn't even last three breaths before the Underworld Scripture devoured it.

In other words, he was dead.

With the black-robed man's death, the Soul-Piercing Nails he had conjured unraveled, and Song Qingyi regained her freedom, dashing to Chu Liang's side.

After three breaths, Chu Liang's soul swiftly returned to his body.

Thus ended his harrowing journey through the Soul-Shifting Spell.

With a dull thud, the black jade book fell to the ground beside the corpse, and the black candles of the array guttered out one after another.

Chu Liang stepped forward and picked up the black jade book, feeling an eerie chill seep into his palm—a strange, unsettling sensation. The artifact of the Underworld Sect was indeed sinister.

He then searched the black-robed man's body, retrieving a dark gold token engraved with the words "Soul Detention," as well as several small porcelain bottles that likely contained various sealed spirits...

Song Qingyi, her face still streaked with tears, stared at his actions, dumbfounded. "What... what are you doing?"

"Searching the body," Chu Liang replied calmly.

"I know..." Of course Song Qingyi knew he was searching the corpse; it was the customary procedure after slaying an enemy.

But... how did he know the man was dead?

Though all signs pointed to the black-robed man's demise, it had happened so suddenly. Tears still brimmed in her eyes, and she was utterly lost as to what had transpired. Yet Chu Liang, barely recovered, was already calmly rifling through the corpse...

It all felt a bit strange.

"How did he die?" Song Qingyi pondered for a moment before finally asking.

"Probably suffered a backlash from his own magic. Or perhaps something went wrong while casting his spell," Chu Liang answered without hesitation.

As for the matter of the Soul-Shifting Spell... there was no need to mention it; it would only raise suspicion.

Of course, a magic backlash was just an excuse—Song Qingyi wasn't stupid enough to believe it. But hearing this, she understood that there were things Chu Liang didn't wish to disclose.

As expected, Song Qingyi asked no further.

Yet Chu Liang's evasiveness only confirmed her suspicion: it was he who had slain the black-robed man.

To think that, at the Spirit Intent stage, he could silently kill a Golden Core demonic cultivator...

She was inwardly astounded.

Chu Liang peeled away the black robe, revealing the face of an ordinary man in his thirties or forties. There was nothing about him to suggest he was a ruthless demonic cultivator, nor could one imagine that hoarse, aged voice belonged to him.

Demonic cultivators always used secret arts to mask their features and alter their voices; only in death could their true faces be seen.

He searched the corpse thoroughly, finally laying the body flat and removing the man's shoes. "Instructor Song, we'll split the spoils fifty-fifty," he offered.

"No, no, that's not necessary..." Song Qingyi hastily waved her hands. "You came all the way here to save me, that's more than enough. Whatever you find, you should keep it."

"That would make me feel bad..." Chu Liang smiled.

Song Qingyi gazed at the gentle, warm smile on the young man's face, feeling a sudden sense of unreality.

Refined and courteous—he was that. Spewing invective moments ago—he was that too. Now, cheerfully searching a corpse—still him... She really couldn't quite figure him out.

She watched as Chu Liang took a stack of silver notes from the black-robed man's boots and, without the slightest hesitation, pocketed them. "I need to hurry," he remarked, "I don't have much time left."

"Hmm?" Song Qingyi tensed at his words. "Will more enemies come?"

"No..." Chu Liang shook his head. "But before long, my master will arrive."

He had barely finished speaking when a sharp, piercing cry split the air.

It was as if a phoenix soared through the heavens, its resonance echoing across the four seas. For a hundred miles around, every bird felt its bloodline suppressed—those in the sky plummeted to earth, while those on the ground prostrated toward the heavens.

Rumble—

A sudden explosion thundered through the entire city of Yanjiao, billowing smoke and mushroom clouds rising from the riverside.

Heaven and earth were thrown into turmoil.

Whoosh—

Only after a long while did peace return to the surroundings.

But as they looked around, there was no trace of the thatched hut, the riverside, or the grassland...

Only a vast, desolate crater remained.

In the center of the pit, a small patch of ground was left unscathed. There, Song Qingyi stared wide-eyed in bewilderment.

Chu Liang stood with his hands at his sides, gazing forward.

Astonished.

Within the swirling smoke, a figure wreathed in flames emerged—humanoid in form, with a pair of blazing wings stretching nearly ten feet behind. With a whoosh, the wings withdrew.

The wind swept the dust away.

Revealed was the Empress Phoenix: her gaze was cold and aloof, her tall figure clad in red and black robes, radiating an air of unrestrained dominance.

She was at once like fire and like ice.

In her right hand, she held Lin Bei by the scruff of the neck, as though he were a chick. Lin Bei’s eyes rolled back, his face ashen and bruised; evidently, the Empress Phoenix’s speed in flight had been too much for his body to bear.

The Empress Phoenix’s cool gaze swept the area before she tossed Lin Bei aside and asked, "Where is the enemy?"

"Master..." Chu Liang finally answered, "The enemy is already dead..."

"Oh, dead, is he?" The Empress Phoenix instantly relaxed, tossing her head and reverting to her usual languid demeanor. She took a few hearty swigs from her wine gourd, and only then did the murderous aura around her fully dissipate.

The oppressive air lifted.

Chu Liang’s shoulders loosened.

Beside him, Song Qingyi, who had scarcely dared to breathe, finally let out a sigh of relief.

The terrifying pressure and apocalyptic force just now had been nothing but the aftershock of the Empress Phoenix’s landing. Such overwhelming presence—even knowing she was his rescuer, Chu Liang could not help but hold his breath.

A Daoist master in battle mode was truly terrifying.

A single glance was enough to suffocate!

The Empress Phoenix strode over, her fair thighs flashing through the slit of her robe with every step, and came to stand by the black-robed man, giving the corpse a couple of kicks.

"He’s well and truly dead. I thought there’d be a fight." She sounded almost disappointed. She looked at Chu Liang and asked, "Did you two take down a Golden Core demonic cultivator?"

The secret of the White Tower was not something Chu Liang intended to reveal—not until he fully understood it, not even to his trusted master.

So he replied, "His death was rather odd. Frankly, I’d say... he was courting disaster."