Chapter 315: Path Dependency Isn

The last golden-headed serpent saw the tide turning and tried to flee; Heracles roared, "Where do you think you're going!" and tore up a three-zhang boulder with his bare hands, crashing it down upon the marsh with a rumbling boom—clouds parted, mist scattered; the hero dipped his arrowheads in the divine serpent's venomous blood—this was how wisdom shattered the nine-headed demon array, and fire-forged divine weapons were passed down through eternity!

The storyteller snapped his fan shut; the wooden clapper cracked again with a crisp sound. He tilted his body slightly, as if posing for an entrance, and declared loudly:

"Thus it is: Don't say divine strength alone can subdue tigers—you need wit to tame the demon dragon. To find out what happens next, listen to the next chapter: 'Capturing the Golden-Horned Male Deer Spirit Alive!'"

"Bravo!"

A voice with a foreign accent in the crowd cheered, followed by a rising clamor—some tossed coins as tips, others clapped and shouted praise, and of course, there were plenty yelling for more.

Feng Xue and Liu Yunxi had been pinned there for several minutes; once the segment ended, Feng Xue smacked his lips and said:

"Damn, actually, this kinda has the right flavor."

Looking at the storyteller—who was clearly a local—Feng Xue suddenly felt that occasionally listening to these bizarre hybrid art forms wasn't half bad.

But the one downside was, no one still came up to cause trouble.

They said the foreigners in Yangrenjie had low morals, didn't they?

"How about we try the method that worked before?"

Just as Feng Xue was pondering where to go next to listen to storytelling… damn it, to go fishing… Liu Yunxi suddenly spoke up.

Hearing this, Feng Xue was momentarily confused—

"What method worked before? This is our first time fishing!"

"Not that kind. Remember how you got targeted by those thugs before? Let's do the same thing again."

Liu Yunxi's eyes curled into a smile; Feng Xue's grin twisted into something sinister. They locked gazes, abandoned the storytelling immediately, and with a spirit-ghost transport technique, shot straight toward the city gate…

Xiao Lingdang reshaped the exoskeleton into a flashy, nouveau-riche outfit; Liu Yunxi copied him, swapping her clothes for a form-fitting qipao. To avoid being recognized by gang factions due to her face being on file, Feng Xue used a talent spell he'd swiped from Lena to swap his appearance for one of a bloated, cowardly, overfed man.

Walking beside Liu Yunxi, he looked exactly like a wealthy landowner taking his mistress out for a stroll.

Liu Yunxi found Feng Xue's disguise deeply unsettling; Feng Xue himself felt perfectly at ease, convinced he now possessed every single element required to get mugged, and strode toward a luxurious brothel.

Outside the brothel, several rickshaws were parked; Feng Xue immediately flagged down two:

"Take us to the biggest antique shop in this area!"

"Got it!" Seeing this patron didn't haggle over price, the two rickshaw pullers nodded eagerly. Feng Xue wasn't worried Liu Yunxi would be snatched away by the other rickshaw—or rather, if she were, that'd suit him just fine. As for Liu Yunxi… hopefully those kidnappers could handle a flesh-enhanced demon's punch.

…

"Do you know who I am? Let me go right now, or you'll regret it!"

Ten minutes later, the thug pinned beneath Feng Xue still bellowed loudly—not to bluff, because Feng Xue clearly noticed several onlookers turning and fleeing immediately after his shouts, clearly going to report.

But Feng Xue had no intention of finishing this quickly; he simply tied the thug and his two bodyguards together in a chain, grabbed a corrugated cardboard sign, wrote six large characters on it—"Fate of a Street Scum"—and hung it around the shouting thug's neck, then dragged them through the streets in public humiliation.

As they marched toward Jilongzhai, they passed several cultivators. Though none saw through Feng Xue's disguise, most offered him friendly smiles.

After all, accumulating merit is fine—no shame in it! Maybe someone wronged in the Merit Pool had wished for this?

But Feng Xue didn't go straight to the Merit Pool to take a task—not because he hadn't thought of it, but because the Merit Pool doesn't erase karmic debt.

On the contrary, accepting tasks to gain wish-essence is itself a "self-serving" act; if you harm others while doing so, you generate evil karma. That's why Feng Xue only takes healing and lifesaving tasks from the Merit Pool.

After walking roughly five minutes, the onlookers suddenly scattered. Then, over a dozen menacing men surrounded them. The leader had abundant blood qi, eighty-nine years of remaining lifespan, faint traces of blood-evil karma hovering above his head—but not obvious. His underlings, however, each radiated thick blood-evil karma, all bearing blood debts. Beside him stood an unassuming man in the shadows, calm and composed—clearly a cultivator.

"Brother, which path do you walk on? If my men broke the rules and offended you, I apologize on their behalf…"

The leader bowed with clasped fists; his tone sounded reasonably sincere. Feng Xue glanced at the thugs encircling them:

"Your posture doesn't look like you're here to apologize!"

"Hmph. My men did wrong—I apologize. But you've shamed the Budou Gang—aren't you owed to leave something behind?"

The man's tone turned icy. Feng Xue, however, smiled. His gaze locked onto the suspected cultivator—

"What about you?"

At those words, the leader instantly realized this man was also a cultivator. He stepped back, hand darting to the pistol at his waist.

"Esteemed Daoist, we take money to serve…"

"Oh, then I didn't grab the wrong guy!" Feng Xue nodded. The cultivator's face paled. The next instant, everyone felt the world spin wildly. When vision cleared, they found themselves strung together like beads, locked inside a cramped room.

"Such a powerful illusion!" The cultivator broke into cold sweat—he hadn't even noticed he'd been controlled, let alone walked a considerable distance!

He glanced sideways at the thugs, bound like pigs. His scalp prickled. While he had woken up, the thugs remained trapped in the illusion—eyes vacant, yet each face wore a smug, arrogant expression.

Cold sweat poured down the cultivator's back. He now prayed he hadn't stumbled upon a legendary "righteous avenger" demonic cultivator. Orthodox cultivators feared blood-evil karma; unless the crime was heinous, they'd just hand offenders over to the authorities. Someone like him, with little karma, might only get scolded at the City God Temple—or worse, file a complaint with his ancestral spirit in the netherworld.

But if he'd met a demonic cultivator? He'd be turned into a furnace-ding for qi extraction.

As he fretted, wondering whether to create chaos and flee, a living person right before his eyes vanished with a swift "whoosh"…

(End of Chapter)