"Killing Su Ming means nothing. The real danger is the serpent that hasn't moved... finally turning its head."
—Shen
---
[1]The Corpse Still Warm, the Order Already Given
Morning at the Huanshui Hall medicine depot. The pungent scent of herbs nearly masked the faint smell of blood.
Su Ming's corpse was found twisted among the underbrush, his throat slit, his eyes glazed over.
Disciplinary officer Mu Youlou stood silently in front of the body, face dark.
But Shen knew—
The quieter Mu Youlou was, the more dangerous he became.
Moments later, a disciple in a purple-embroidered robe knelt on one knee and spoke softly:
> "Officer Mu, residual traces of a Soul-Sapping Talisman remain on the corpse. Highly likely it originated from within the Hall—"
Smack!
Mu Youlou flicked a finger, sending the disciple flying two zhang away and crashing into a medicine rack.
"And who do you think... did it?"
His tone wasn't loud, but it crushed the faces of all present.
No one answered.
Only then did Mu Youlou finally speak:
> "Track every outer sect trial boy and inner talisman apprentice's whereabouts for the past seven days."
> "Anyone without verified records—detain and interrogate them all."
The air seemed to solidify, clouds pressing low.
They had killed the serpent's tail. Now the serpent's head had turned—
And it was staring directly at the mud where Shen was hiding.
---
[2]Phantom Thread Tightens, Identity Nears Exposure
Shen sat in the corner of a medicine room, still playing the role of a humble drug apprentice.
His hands steadily peeled herbs and ground powder, his expression calm. But hidden within his sleeve, a small gray-black Talisman Core slowly warmed—his homemade Perception Needle.
A detection device.
If anyone swept him with spiritual sense, it would tremble in warning.
It had already vibrated—twice.
Someone was investigating him.
Shen didn't flinch.
He knew that in an organization like Huanshui Hall, people weren't hunted by "evidence"—but by intent.
If someone wanted you dead, the evidence would appear.
The only way out—was to strike again before they did.
---
[3]Wan'er's File, Moved Up Prematurely
By noon, a Transfer Order arrived at the internal clearance division.
> ID: G-207
Subject: Wan'er
Status: Recovery moved ahead of schedule. Transfer to occur at Xu hour tonight.
Shen's fingers clenched.
Xu hour—between 7 and 9 PM tonight.
Originally, it was scheduled for three days later.
His mind flashed to Wan'er's small figure, chained inside the Phantom Spirit Room. Frail, barely human. But still awake—
Still looking at the ceiling in the dark.
She hadn't cried.
Hadn't screamed for help.
She had only whispered:
> "Are you... going to leave?"
He hadn't answered then.
But now, he had no choice.
---
[4]Serpent's Maw Draws Near, The Plan Restarts
Night fell.
Shen did not leave the medicine depot. Instead, he quietly approached the Sacrificial Hall—
Where Wan'er was being held.
The route ahead included two watchposts, one spiritual-sensing disciple, and a sigil-locked formation.
To rush in directly—was certain death.
But Shen didn't plan to force entry.
Earlier, he had hidden a pouch of Rot-spirit Powder in a night shift worker's herb satchel—a toxic extract refined a week ago from maggot husks. Inhalation caused instant confusion.
Fifteen minutes later, the target collapsed, escorted to treatment and relieved of duty.
Shen donned the man's robes, and slipped through the waste disposal tunnel, crawling toward the rear ventilation shaft of the Sacrificial Hall.
The passage was dark and damp, crawling with serpents and insects, reeking of rot.
Gripping a frayed rope in one hand and his dagger in the other, Shen whispered:
> "Wan'er, if I can't make it in time tonight—wait for me."
> "If I do come... don't look back."
---
[5]Hall Stirred, Killing Intent Weaves
Meanwhile, Mu Youlou sat in the inner sanctum, brows tightly furrowed.
His gaze swept over a page of spiritual sigil records, then he exhaled softly:
> "...It's no longer stable."
He waved a hand.
Behind him, a shadow materialized, voice cold and emotionless:
> "Should we release the Mirror Serpent?"
Mu Youlou closed his eyes and said, "Not yet. Tonight... I want to see who's bold enough."
At that very moment, Shen emerged from the shaft, covered in mud and venom.
Wan'er—
was only three paces away, behind a locked iron door.
And the Hall's deadliest blade—
was starting to stir.