Chapter 109: The Divine Weapon of the Phoenix Pool

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I searched through the ruins for a long time but found nothing—no casualties, and no sign of Wei Qi. I went back and forth five or six times, yet still no results. I discussed with Shangguan Wan’er and decided to head straight to Yingzi’s home. When we arrived, Yingzi was lying in bed, hooked up to an IV drip. Her face was flushed red, and sores had formed at the corners of her mouth—clearly anxious and feverish. Her parents sat nearby, sighing deeply.

Seeing us, Yingzi hurriedly sat up, eyes full of hope. “Da Chuan, Da Chuan, where’s Wei Qi? Have you seen him?”

I had to tell the truth—I hadn’t seen Wei Qi. Then I asked about what happened after Wan’er and I left. Yingzi said that when she reached the scene yesterday, the building had already collapsed. She hadn’t seen either of us or Wei Qi and assumed he had left with us.

I asked if that foul monk had taken Wei Qi away. Yingzi said no; she had asked the people nearby, and they said that the moment the palm mine exploded, the three of us vanished instantly. The old monk left with his men but didn’t take anything.

Hearing this, I felt somewhat relieved. Of course Wei Qi was behind me, so he couldn't have been blown to bits; he must have escaped. No matter what, as long as he hadn’t fallen into that monk’s hands, it was a good sign.

After comforting Yingzi a bit, Wan’er and I left. I wanted to arrange a place for Wan’er and went to Fulaishan’s Dinglin Temple myself, but the girl firmly refused, insisting on staying with me no matter what. I thought she had a point. Since it had come to this, we should share life and death together.

Just as we were about to head to Dinglin Temple, Wan’er stopped me and dragged me to the grave of her and Ziyi. She handed me a shovel. “Da Chuan, dig.”

“Wan’er, that’s not right. Ziyi’s remains are there—why dig?” I didn’t know what this ghost girl was up to.

“What Ziyi? That was your former self. Digging your own grave isn’t wrong. Dig.”

“Wan’er, why? We still have important matters!” I didn’t want to dig up a grave unnecessarily.

“The Fengchi Sword is inside. It’s originally yours and should be brought back to light.” Wan’er frowned slightly, a seductive smile curling at her lips.

I suddenly understood. Indeed, with the enemy at the gates, such a divine weapon shouldn’t remain buried underground. It was better to unearth it. After some effort, half an hour later, the Fengchi Sword was dug out. This sword was extraordinary—its cold gleam shot everywhere, like a bright lamp in the night, incomparable to my three-foot Longyuan sword.

With the Fengchi Sword in hand and riding the Purple-Gold Steed, my confidence soared. Wan’er and I rode straight to Dinglin Temple on Purple-Gold Steed. Under my instructions, the steed silently landed in the temple courtyard. Since I had been here several times, I was familiar with the place. I told Wan’er to wait with the steed in a safe spot in the front hall while I went alone to the back courtyard.

Wan’er was uneasy and wanted to follow me, but I whispered that it was better for me to go alone to keep my movements discreet. She agreed and said to call her if anything happened; she would come immediately on the Purple-Gold Steed.

I tiptoed to the back courtyard, the meditation room. After observing carefully and seeing no danger, I sneaked closer. The meditation room was lit; I peeked inside and nearly jumped out of my skin.

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Inside, a lamp burned brightly, and a figure sat at the table drinking wine—it was none other than the monk Xingyun. Not only was he drinking, but there were also meat dishes on the table. I could see clearly from nearby that his plate held several cooked hearts.

Looking at those hearts, I was even more shocked. As a practitioner of the Yin Path with knowledge of corpses, I knew the difference between human and animal hearts. The hearts on his plate were human. No wonder some people who died lost their hearts—it seems this old beast was eating them. I reached for my phone but realized I had lost it somewhere, so I had to keep watching.

Behind the foul monk stood a man and a woman—the man was Old Zhao, and the woman was Yueyue. I looked carefully again; there was no fourth person—no sign of Wang Ying.

“Master, do we still need to absorb souls tonight?” Yueyue asked.

Xingyun took a sip of wine, bit into a human heart, and slowly said, “Of course. We must gather 100 souls before the end of the month to send to the Ghost King.”

The Ghost King?

Who was this Ghost King? I had never heard of him. So Xingyun wasn’t the ultimate mastermind behind the scenes after all.

“Master, do we still need human hearts?” Old Zhao also spoke. Xingyun flicked his chopsticks. “Xiao Zhao, what’s wrong with you? These hearts are from the dead. Learn from Yueyue—not to fool me with dead hearts. They taste terrible. Understand?”

Old Zhao hurriedly nodded.

“All right, time’s nearly up. You two go quickly and return quickly. Ten souls tonight will do. As for hearts, they need to be fresh.”

Xingyun’s words were simple, but ruthless.

“Master, can we dig for hearts in nearby villages instead? More people live in the city; it’s not good to be seen,” Old Zhao suggested.

“No! Go to the city. Only in the city can we attract more attention and stir up trouble. That way, people will resent the Underworld and launch attacks against it,” Xingyun said slyly.

I couldn’t understand why my second uncle had offended Xingyun so badly. Why was Xingyun so resentful of the Underworld? It seemed uncovering these matters would take time.

I checked again carefully—still no sign of Wang Ying. What was going on? Was she not here? Was that meeting just a coincidence?

Seeing Old Zhao and Yueyue about to head out to commit their crimes, I quietly withdrew and reunited with Shangguan Wan’er in the front courtyard. We briefly discussed and then rode out on the Purple-Gold Steed.

I planned an ambush west of Juxian City.

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Under the moonlight, Wan’er and I hovered on the Purple-Gold Steed, watching all the people, cars, and pedestrians passing by—not missing a single one. Soon, a chilling wind blew from the west, and two figures, one black and one white, rushed toward us.

“Da Chuan, look! Is that them?” Wan’er pointed.

“It is. Stop them.” I patted the steed’s forehead and swooped down right in front of them.

The two speeding figures were Old Zhao and Yueyue. Our sudden appearance startled them.

“Is that you?” Old Zhao hesitated, then said.

“Yes, it’s me. Didn’t expect that, huh? Zhao, you’re tough—three or five times and still alive.” I jumped off the steed and approached him.

“Wang Da Chuan, you’re nothing special—just relying on that palm mine the master taught you! If you’ve got guts, fight me without it.” Zhao was sly.

Since coming out of the Underworld, I really planned not to use the palm mine anymore. First, because it was a technique taught by my enemy; secondly, my second uncle told me it shortens one’s lifespan. I didn’t want to die early.

“Zhao, I find it strange. You have the Yin-Yang eye and Yin Path skills, so why resort to these crooked ways? To this day, I still think calling them crooked is an understatement. You’ve become a murderous demon.”

“Wang Da Chuan, stop talking nonsense. If you’ve got guts, fight me without the palm mine.” Zhao sneered arrogantly.

“Fine! Let’s see what you’ve got.” I decided not to use the palm mine today but to face him with the Fengchi Sword.

“All right, you’re a man.” Zhao said as he raised his hand, sending a cold gleam flying at my cheek. I didn’t know what it was and hurriedly raised the Fengchi Sword to block. Bang! A powerful force knocked me far back. Fortunately, the Fengchi Sword was unharmed.

Wan’er rushed over. “Da Chuan, are you okay?”

I was about to stand when a second cold gleam shot toward me. I pushed Wan’er aside just in time, hearing a sharp clang and her startled scream.