Zongzheng Huangyue rushed over and hugged Wen Li before she could react. Her usually calm face was filled with unmistakable joy. “Master, I’m at Late-Stage Foundation Establishment! Look quickly, has my appearance changed? The fusion was successful, wasn’t it?”
The Saint Emperor had told her to endure the pain, but her master had accomplished what he could not.
No, perhaps the Saint Emperor did have a way to resolve the agony brought about by her Nether Ghost Physique, but he was unwilling. He wanted her to be controlled like a dog.
“Alright, let me check for you.” Wen Li nodded.
Zongzheng Huangyue let go. Once Wen Li released her spiritual energy to envelop her, Huangyue dropped her resistance, allowing the divine sense to enter her body.
“It has indeed fused. This body is completely yours now. Although you and your sister look similar, this body will drift closer to your previous appearance and temperament. You are yourself; from now on, there is only Zongzheng Huangyue.” Wen Li lowered her hand.
She knew what Zongzheng Huangyue cared about. She didn’t want others to look at this face and think of her sister, Zongzheng Yuanling. What she wanted was her own glory and dignity.
“Yes. From now on, there is only me, and it is only me.” Zongzheng Huangyue smiled.
Her current appearance wasn’t vastly different from before, but a closer look revealed that the distance between her eyes was slightly wider, and her brows were arched with confidence. Her features were more striking and aggressive—a beauty of intense contrast. In particular, her pupils were a deep black, radiating ambition and ruthlessness. Even if Zongzheng Yuanling were to stand right next to her, any keen observer would be able to distinguish them at a glance.
“You’ve absorbed most of the yin energy here, and you’ve devoured all those yin souls. However, they were mortals, not the souls of cultivators, so you can’t refine them into puppets.” Wen Li began walking forward, leaving the graveyard.
“Master, should we go kill some cultivators and extract their souls to make puppets then?” Zongzheng Huangyue followed.
Wen Li shook her head slightly. “Your current cultivation isn’t enough to refine puppets. However, you can try controlling ghosts to follow your commands. But before that, you need to obtain something.”
“What is it?”
“The Moon Soul Arrow.”
“What’s that?”
“It is a High Grade Rank 5 Dharma treasure that has absorbed a thousand years of yin energy and can manifest toxic blue flames. Not only can it imprison and summon the souls of the cultivators it kills for its own use, but the toxic blue flames it fires will instantly disintegrate anyone they touch. It is a lethal weapon of the highest order.”
“It was created by a certain Imperial Prince of the Beiqiong Kingdom. It’s said that back then, he wanted to suppress a rebel army and slaughtered tens of thousands of people. The resentment of the vengeful ghosts grew so strong it formed a Gate of Hell, causing countless cultivators to be ensnared and perish. He went to subdue it, casting the bow’s body from demonic cold iron and using the sinews of a Fourth Realm Late Stage phoenix for the string. After his death, the Moon Soul Arrow was ordered by the Saint Emperor to be buried with him.”
Wen Li paused and turned to look at her. “Most importantly, that is Wangquan Sheng’s fortuitous opportunity.”
Zongzheng Huangyue understood instantly, a dark glint flashing in her eyes.
“Master, you’re taking me to snatch his opportunity.”
“If we can’t snatch his greatest opportunity, that bone ring, then we’ll go for his smaller ones. Regardless, his stuff won’t be bad. Besides, his name isn’t written on it, so who’s to say it isn’t your opportunity?”
Wen Li felt that the Moon Soul Arrow was far better suited for her disciple.
Zongzheng Huangyue’s eyes curved with enthusiasm. “Alright!” Even if his name were written on it, she would still snatch it.
...
A city neighboring the western side of Wanbeiwu.
Wuho City.
A figure in black robes wearing a veiled hat quickly returned to the inn.
“Master, I’ve found something. That Imperial Prince of the Wangquan royal family was named Wangquan Wuho. Six hundred years ago, he was stuck at Late-Stage Nascent Soul and couldn’t advance. His lifespan ran out, and he perished. The previous Saint Emperor buried him here along with countless treasures and renamed the city Wuho City in his memory. The entire underground of Wuho City is his tomb.”
“Many new faces have arrived in Wuho City recently. They were invited by the Beiqiong Kingdom’s royal family to accompany a royal team into the tomb for a sacrifice in seven days.”
Wen Li, who was lazily gnawing on a chicken leg, raised an eyebrow. “Do they really need to find outsiders for a sacrifice?”
If there was one thing she knew, it was that the three great imperial powers of the Eastern Province were extremely xenophobic. They kept everything left by immortals firmly in their own hands; there was no way they would let outsiders join a sacrifice at an Imperial Prince’s tomb.
Zongzheng Huangyue frowned. “That’s what they’re saying publicly. I wanted to find a few isolated disciples from the invited sects, but they’re very cautious. They have to have someone at Mid-Stage Foundation Establishment with them when they go out, so it was hard for me to strike.”
Wen Li waved her hand. “I’ll go out for a walk with you tonight.”
Though she said it was a walk, Zongzheng Huangyue understood that her master was planning to find someone to ambush.
“Alright.”
At night.
Two black shadows appeared on the central street of Wuho City. Both were in disguise.
“Master, staying in this inn are the Seven Fiends Hall and the Wind-Thunder Hall, powers from the north of Wuho City. This inn houses the Moquan Sect and Danfeng Valley from Wanbeiwu. That one is where Huayan Villa is staying—they’re a power from the city to the south. As for the royal team of Wangquan Wuho’s lineage, they are staying in the Wuho City Lord’s Estate.”
Zongzheng Huangyue was relaying the information she had gathered over the past two days to Wen Li via voice transmission. When she turned her head, she saw that Wen Li had actually run off to buy food. Her mouth was stuffed with a bun, her right hand held an egg-filled pancake, her left hand held a candied hawthorn, and her arms were full of pastries she had snatched up at some point.
“...” She let out a soft sigh.
Master wasn’t just a big eater; she was also a glutton. Logically, a cultivator’s desire for food shouldn't be a necessity like it was for mortals.
Zongzheng Huangyue had just walked up to a meat bun stall when Wen Li spotted a sugar-painter nearby. Wen Li’s eyes lit up, and she immediately ran over.
“Mmph mmph!” Wait for me, I’m going to buy more food first.
Because her mouth was full of bun, she couldn't speak and transmitted her voice directly.
“Hey, you haven't paid for the buns...”
The vendor raised his hand to stop her, but before he could finish, Zongzheng Huangyue dropped a string of copper coins.
“Keep the change.”
She turned and continued to follow Wen Li. She stopped talking about business and instead helped carry the things that wouldn't fit in Wen Li’s arms. She followed Wen Li as she ate and drank her way through the streets for half an hour, until Wen Li was so full she was burping.
Only then did they find a rock to sit on near the entrance of a cave under an arched bridge. The river below flowed against their direction, and the stars and moon hung high in the night sky as a cool breeze blew.
Wen Li loosened her tight belt, draped an arm over Zongzheng Huangyue’s shoulder, and shook her leg with a look of satisfied reflection. “I must say, the food in the Eastern Province is very different from other places. It’s not spicy or salty, quite light but still flavorful. It’s delicious.”
Zongzheng Huangyue recalled the Tenth Sect Rule: “Every disciple must know how to cook.” She had previously wondered if Master was afraid they would starve if they got trapped somewhere, but now she had her answer.
Since her mother had died young, she had raised her sister herself and naturally knew how to cook, otherwise they would have starved long ago. However, since she started cultivating and was brought back to the Imperial Prince’s Estate, she had never cooked for herself again.
“If Master wants to eat Eastern Province cuisine in the future, I can certainly make it.”
Pausing, she remembered Wen Li complaining about Gu Linshu making half-cooked food that gave her diarrhea—after which she never let him cook again and always ate out. She immediately added a sentence.
“Don’t worry, Master. While my cooking might not be world-class, it certainly won’t poison anyone.” Her teasing voice drifted into the wind, carrying a lightness that was free from the usual life-and-death schemes and calculations.
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