Chapter 298: Lu Shimei, where are you? I can

[Xuanjia Guiyuan Array: This is a perfect-grade four-color talisman array, capable of both offense and defense; even a Zhanling cultivator would be unable to breach it in a short while.]

After reading the appraisal feedback, Zhou Qing frowned deeply.

This is trouble!

After a brief hesitation, he gently tugged Lu Yaoyao’s sleeve, and the two slipped away silently.

“What do we do now? Such a perfect opportunity, and he’s hiding inside that turtle shell!” Lu Yaoyao muttered in frustration.

Zhou Qing’s expression turned thoughtful.

Calculating the time, there should still be two hours left before the [Curse Scroll] expires.

During these two hours, he will continue to suffer misfortune.

But then again, if the enemy is doomed to misfortune during these two hours, doesn’t that mean, from our perspective, it’s an immense stroke of luck?

Could it even be said that we are his destined final calamity?

If so, we must make full use of these two hours.

If he regains even a fraction of his strength, fighting him later will only bring complications.

After all, a dying camel is still bigger than a horse!

“We must lure him out of that array!” Zhou Qing lightly tapped his brow, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes.

Hearing Zhou Qing’s words, Lu Yaoyao nodded vigorously. “But he’s severely wounded now; under normal circumstances, he won’t come out.”

Zhou Qing paced back and forth, then a sly glint surfaced in his eyes.

“This man is greedy, and his luck is terrible right now. Perhaps even a simple trap won’t make him think twice.”

Lu Yaoyao asked curiously, “What do you plan to do? I’ll do everything I can to help!”

Zhou Qing whispered his plan to her. After listening, Lu Yaoyao looked skeptical but nodded reluctantly, then departed.

Zhou Qing, meanwhile, exhaled slowly, tore his robes into strips, smeared them with blood, and headed toward Yan Sen’s healing spot.

…

Inside the four-color array, Yan Sen held a supreme-grade spirit stone in each hand, frantically absorbing its energy.

He felt more stifled than ever before.

Three days already, and he’d found not a single treasure—only one misfortune after another.

Worst of all, just now he nearly got possessed by some beast—if not for Uncle Ba’s intervention, he’d be dead.

Half his spiritual sense has been swallowed; even if he finds precious medicinal herbs later, recovery will take ages.

“I wonder if Uncle Ba found anything? I hope he found nothing at all!”

Yan Sen muttered to himself as he healed.

The more he thought, the angrier he became: “Damn Zhou Qing—he didn’t warn me at all how dangerous this place was! Where the hell is he hiding now?”

He comforted himself: “With him and Lu Yaoyao—one Soul Transformation, one Nascent Soul—they won’t last long in a place crawling with Demon Emperors!”

Yan Sen even planned: if Zhou Qing and the others truly died somewhere here, once he escaped, he’d pay a visit to Taiqingmen.

Perhaps the [Emperor’s Radiance Scripture] still remained there.

Suddenly, frantic footsteps stumbled from outside. Yan Sen snapped open his eyes.

Did Uncle Ba return?

He’d only been gone two hours?

Had he also encountered danger?

Yan Sen’s heart leapt with joy, yet he still peered forward warily, afraid something else might have wandered in.

After all, in these three days, he’d suffered too many misfortunes—nothing was too bizarre to have happened.

He was now a bird startled by the mere sound of a bowstring.

“Lu Shimei, where are you? Where are you? I can’t see—I can’t tell apart—”

A familiar, frantic voice echoed from outside. Yan Sen froze, then his eyes blazed with murderous intent.

Moments later, a blood-soaked figure crashed through the vines, stumbling inside.

Zhou Qing was drenched in blood, his robes shredded into rags, eyes closed yet streaming crimson tears. He staggered two steps, slammed into the stone wall, and emitted a sickening thud.

“Medicine… my medicine…” he gasped, bloodied and whimpering, his trembling fingers frantically rummaging through his storage bag.

Several supreme-grade fire- and water-attribute spirit stones were violently pulled out and tossed aside.

Jade scrolls clattered to the ground, several emitting a peculiar demonic aura.

Like those of the Jin Wu, Suanni, and Jin Chida—pure-blooded demonic beasts.

Yan Sen’s eyes gleamed brightly.

Could this fool possess more than one demonic technique, like the [Emperor’s Radiance Scripture]?

“Why! Why can’t I find it? I really can’t tell apart—”

Zhou Qing, as if descending into madness, hurled his storage bag against the stone wall and clawed desperately at his own hair.

Before his voice faded, he spat a jet of black blood onto the scattered debris, then his legs buckled and he collapsed motionless.

Seeing this, Yan Sen burst into loud laughter—then erupted into violent coughing, spewing out several mouthfuls of blood himself.

“My luck’s turned! I finally turned my luck! I knew it—no one stays cursed forever! Even heaven can’t keep targeting just me!”

Yan Sen immediately rose, trembling, pulled out a token, and caused the four-color array to ripple open.

He couldn’t risk Uncle Ba returning any moment.

Would any of this belong to him?

Until he reached Zhou Qing’s side and delivered several brutal kicks to his abdomen.

“Didn’t expect you to be this tough—held on for three whole days!”

Then he glanced at the scattered supreme-grade spirit stones, and a smile spread across his face.

He’d underestimated Taiqingmen—how could a single disciple carry so many supreme-grade spirit stones for cultivation?

Clearly, Taiqingmen's heritage far surpassed his imagination.

“This is real wealth!” Yan Sen muttered to himself, stepping over Zhou Qing and walking toward the spirit stones.

In the next instant, the “dead” Zhou Qing suddenly opened his eyes, leapt up like a leaping carp, and thrust his Broken Wound Spear straight into Yan Sen’s back.

Though Yan Sen, wounded in his spiritual sense from the possession, instinctively reacted, the Broken Wound Spear still pierced clean through his waist.

Immediately, Zhou Qing transformed into his second form—Jin Chida—and kicked Yan Sen with all his might, sending him flying out of the half-collapsed ruin to prevent him from retreating inside.

Yan Sen was flung a hundred meters away, crashing into broken walls and spewing blood.

He stared at Zhou Qing in disbelief and fury: “You… you’re not dead?”

Zhou Qing wiped blood from his lips. Behind his back, the wings of Jin Chida flared, each feather gleaming with cold metallic luster.

“If you’re not dead, how could I die before you?” Zhou Qing sneered, then glanced at Yan Sen’s bleeding waist.

“Oh dear, you’re bleeding again—looks like you’ve hit another blood misfortune!”

Yan Sen stared at his wound, trembling with rage.

So careless—he’d been fooled in the gutter. A disgrace beyond words.

Such a pathetic performance, and he’d fallen for it—this was an insult to his intelligence.

“Still not running? Either you’re confident… or you can’t run at all!”

“Then I won’t hold back!”

Zhou Qing spoke, and in his hand appeared a mirror frame, radiating a chaotic aura.

As spiritual power surged through it, countless golden threads erupted from the mirror’s surface.

Each thread was wrapped in dark red karmic fire, swiftly weaving into a vast net shimmering with the aura of cosmic origins.

It descended upon Yan Sen.

Yan Sen’s face turned ashen. “Supreme Dao weapon—this is the aura of a Supreme Dao weapon!”

He no longer cared for anything—he turned and tried to flee.

But the shock had cost him his best chance.

Only now did he realize the surroundings had blurred as if veiled in mist; his movements slowed as if trapped in mud.

As Zhou Qing increased his spiritual output, the golden threads surged several-fold in length, coiling like living things around Yan Sen, dragging him forcibly into the mirror frame.

After completing this, Zhou Qing exhaled slowly, a look of triumph on his face.

He hadn’t expected it to go so smoothly—it felt almost too easy.

“This [Curse Scroll] is terrifying—if someone’s misfortune reaches its peak, no one can stop it!”

But thinking back, his ease came from constantly using this scroll to “sparring” with the First Ancestor in the Divine Ruins Palace—he’d finally mastered its workings.

“He recognized a Supreme Dao weapon? The Shen family’s heritage must be even more terrifying than I thought—I can’t let him live.”

Zhou Qing’s eyes brimmed with killing intent. He marked the location, gathered his spirit stones, and swiftly departed.

After all, the four-color array itself was priceless—too great a loss to abandon.

“Zhou Shixiong!” Soon, using Jin Peng’s speed, he reached a distant platform.

Hearing the sound, Lu Yaoyao rushed out.

Zhou Qing’s face turned pale—he hadn’t expected the Supreme Dao weapon to drain so much spiritual power.

In just this short time, two-tenths of his spiritual power had been consumed.

No wonder Yu Hengzi and the others had to take turns activating it—it was truly a “spirit stone devourer.”

“Remember—what you’ve seen today, pretend you saw nothing. It’s for your own good!” Zhou Qing said to Lu Yaoyao, his tone grave.

Lu Yaoyao instinctively glanced at the mirror frame in Zhou Qing’s hand, her eyes lighting up: “You’ve already… Oh, the black snow mountain—this mirror surface…”

Lu Yaoyao seemed to recall something and blurted it out—then immediately clamped her mouth shut.

But when he met Zhou Qing’s puzzled gaze, he thought for a moment and said, “I understand, but Master Zhou, you may not believe me—I once saw a record of this mirror in an ancient text.”

“You saw it?” Zhou Qing was startled.

Lu Yaoyao nodded. After all, she had once used it to comb her hair and gaze into her reflection—hadn’t you been the one who combed it for her?

“Yes, its mirror surface seems to have been lost somewhere in a black snowy mountain range. I don’t know exactly where.”

Lu Yaoyao spoke with solemn seriousness.

Upon hearing this, Zhou Qing was instantly stirred with excitement.

“Where is that ancient text?” Zhou Qing asked urgently.

Lu Yaoyao looked troubled. “I flipped through it randomly at a book stall when I was a child. I can’t find it anymore.”

Zhou Qing felt a pang of disappointment, but silently etched this clue into his mind.

Lu Yaoyao added seriously, “But Master, don’t worry—once we’re out, I’ll seal off all related memories in my spiritual sea and won’t utter a single word to anyone.”

Zhou Qing nodded, then slowly extended his spiritual sense into the mirror’s frame, gazing at the imprisoned Yan Sen.

The Ultimate Weapon, the [Infinite Karmic Fire Mirror], was forged from the “Sinfire” at the deepest depths of the Nether Realms.

Its surface reflects the karmic debts of all beings, burning the souls of the guilty to ashes.

Yan Sen’s spiritual sea was already damaged, and no one knew how many hidden sins he had committed.

Now he screamed in agony within, and Zhou Qing let out a cold snort at the sight.

But the fiercer the karmic fire burned, the faster his spiritual power was drained.

“Even if I draw all my reserve spiritual power, I can’t slowly burn a Cutting-Soul cultivator to death in a moment!”

Zhou Qing pondered. Though Yan Sen now writhed in agony, he had already sent out a fragment of his spiritual sense to search for an exit.

“I still need to act as originally planned—taking the initiative is better.”

Once decided, Zhou Qing waited again. After a few minutes, when his internal spiritual power had been drained to half, he immediately turned to Lu Yaoyao.

“It’s your turn now—if you can’t hold on, throw the mirror frame away!”

Though he didn’t know how long Lu Yaoyao, at the late Nascent Soul realm, could endure, he resolved to end the battle before she collapsed.

Lu Yaoyao looked at the offered mirror frame and nodded firmly. “Master, rest assured!”

Zhou Qing hesitated no longer. Instantly, he became a streak of light and plunged into the mirror frame.

The moment Lu Yaoyao took hold of the frame, her expression changed slightly. “The drain is this severe?”

She had no time to think further. She sat cross-legged, gripped the frame tightly, absorbed spirit stones, and rapidly activated the [Ice Purity Scripture].

Meanwhile, Zhou Qing, like Yu Hengzi before him, entered through the gap.

Then, with a thought, he appeared not far from Yan Sen.

“Ahh—!”

At that moment, Yan Sen felt as if he’d been thrown into boiling oil. Countless tiny karmic fire insects crawled into his ears and drilled into his brain, gnawing at his marrow until it hissed with steam.

The filthy secrets buried deep in his memories surged forth—just like the obsessions he’d witnessed during his Cutting-Soul trial.

“Pain… it hurts… stop burning… stop it!”

Yan Sen dug his fingers deep into his temples, black blood oozing from under his nails. The skin beneath his palms peeled off in patches—grotesque and horrifying.

He quickly sensed Zhou Qing’s arrival.

“Ultimate weapon… so this is the power of a new Ultimate Weapon? But it seems defective. Even so, it’s astonishing!”

“Zhou Qing, I must admit—I underestimated you. But what of it? All this will soon be mine!”

“The pain you’ve inflicted—I’ll repay it a hundredfold, a thousandfold!”

Yan Sen roared, trembling, then let out a gurgling laugh from his throat.

Immediately, thick black blood mist surged around his body, twisting and swelling into a three-zhang-tall demon form.

Ten arms swung simultaneously, each palm splitting open into a bloody maw, spewing black flames laced with bone fragments toward Zhou Qing.

Zhou Qing watched calmly. Due to the peculiar rules of this space, Yan Sen’s attacks had slowed considerably.

Just like when he himself had transformed into the Golden Wings Great Peng, trying to find an exit.

But Zhou Qing, having already subjugated and preliminarily mastered the Infinite Karmic Fire Mirror, was nearly unaffected.

Added to that, Yan Sen’s waist bore a gaping wound from the Pox Spear, gushing blood continuously.

The dual torment of spirit and body had utterly shattered his rational thought.

“Lu Shimei can’t hold on much longer—I have only one chance!” Zhou Qing’s eyes turned icy.

With all reserve spiritual power channeled, a blinding crimson light erupted around Zhou Qing.

The bloodlight rose as if from the deepest pits of the Nine Heavens, brimming with endless slaughter and wrath.

Li—!

The next instant, behind him, a phoenix wreathed in scarlet flame raised its head and let out a piercing cry, shaking loose ten thousand blood feathers.

Countless indescribable inscriptions materialized around the blood phoenix.

Yan Sen, charging forward yet moving at a fraction of his normal speed, saw this and his pupils shrank.

“Blood Phoenix Divine Art? No—this is… the aura of a Inscription-Level spiritual technique! You possess an Inscription-Level technique? How is this possible!”

Yan Sen’s cry trembled with disbelief.

Zhou Qing’s face was expressionless. “Nothing is impossible in this world, Yan Sen. Welcome your final moment of doom!”

Shii-shii-shii!

The five crimson feathers on the blood phoenix’s chest instantly transformed into streaks of light, appearing on Zhou Qing’s index finger.

Zhou Qing’s face turned pale. His fingertip trembled slightly as he thrust forward, uttering one word like a hammer striking stone: “Cut!”

Five crimson beams shot from his fingertip, blazing with ancient Dao inscriptions that flickered and danced.

Where they passed, space itself tore open, revealing black fissures within.

Yan Sen, rushing forward, screamed at the sight—a deathly dread, unlike any he’d ever felt, surged into his heart.

Without hesitation, he switched from offense to defense.

But the unceasing blood loss from his abdomen sent him reeling—he blacked out.

“Done for!”

That single moment’s delay left him unable to even form basic defenses. Zhou Qing’s attack arrived.

Boom!

A terrifying explosion erupted in the space. Yan Sen felt everything around him slow to a crawl.

He watched the five crimson beams pierce through his body effortlessly, saw his heart shredded into pulp by Dao inscriptions.

He saw his spine snap into grotesque angles, saw his Primordial Spirit torn apart, shrieking in agony.

Yet he felt no pain—only a chilling sense of release spreading from his feet.

Death, he realized, was far easier than he’d imagined.

But how had he died?

He was a Level-Four Array Master, a mid-stage Cutting-Soul cultivator!

This realm should have been his foundation for dominance and grand ambition.

He had laid so many traps within the Yan Clan—none activated yet.

He hadn’t yet shattered Shen Hanyi’s icy exterior, hadn’t satisfied his craving to conquer her.

He hadn’t yet explored this secret realm brimming with treasures.

His terrifying spiritual realm hadn’t been unleashed; his weapons, techniques, and other tools remained unused.

He hadn’t yet seized Zhou Qing’s Golden Peng Divine Art, his Inscription-Level technique, his Ultimate Weapon…

So much lay ahead—how could he perish so far from home, killed by a mere Soul Transformation ant?

Unwilling… he was truly unwilling!

Simultaneously, Zhou Qing, his meridians drained of spiritual power, summoned his last ounce of strength.

With his hands forming seals, a crimson curtain woven from countless Dao inscriptions slammed down over Yan Sen.

Even diminished, the essence and spiritual power of a mid-stage Cutting-Soul cultivator far surpassed that of a host of Soul Transformation or Nascent Soul cultivators.

After completing this, Zhou Qing felt his spiritual sense violently shake. Black-and-red afterimages flooded his vision. He collapsed like a kite with severed string.

He bit his tongue hard. The metallic tang of blood splashed between his teeth, barely keeping him conscious.

When he looked up, the crimson mist was receding like a tide, revealing three blood crystals and a dark-gold storage pouch floating in the void.

He reached out, drawing the crystals and pouch toward him.

“These are Blood Phoenix Catastrophe Crystals? Indeed, pure beyond measure!” Zhou Qing murmured, his eyes betraying uncontainable delight.

The three crystals lay in a triangular formation in his palm, each glowing with a soft luster, their interiors alive with writhing crimson veins.

No impurities—only vast spiritual energy and blood qi quietly surging.

Without hesitation, he sealed them away. He checked the storage pouch—no spiritual sense seals remained. Confirmed: Yan Sen was truly dead. He hurried out.

Lu Yaoyao’s face was deathly pale, swaying on her feet, yet she gritted her teeth and held on stubbornly.

“Father, hurry—Yao Yao… I can’t hold on much longer!” she prayed inwardly.

The next instant, Zhou Qing staggered out of the mirror frame and collapsed.

Lu Yaoyao immediately threw down the frame and rushed over.

“Father—!” she cried.

But Zhou Qing had already fainted.

After confirming he had no injuries—only complete spiritual exhaustion—Lu Yaoyao finally exhaled a long, relieved breath.

She quickly began recovering her own strength while dragging Zhou Qing into a nearby ruin.

As for the frame, he had thrown a few pieces of wood on top to conceal it, avoiding detection.

He must not touch it again—he would be drained dry.

……

Thus, it was not until the afternoon of the fourth day that Zhou Qing finally woke.

“Senior Brother Zhou, how do you feel?”

Lu Yaoyao, pale-faced, released her hand from his back, where she had been channeling spiritual energy, and asked with concern.

Zhou Qing saw her condition and knew what had happened; weakly, he said, “You’ve worked hard—I’m fine. Rest quickly. By the way, how long has it been?”

He glanced around; the two were still inside the Peng Xing Palace.

Lu Yaoyao said, “Only three hours remain until the fifth day!”

Zhou Qing had not expected to be unconscious so long; he immediately pulled out a supreme-grade fire spirit stone and tossed it to Lu Yaoyao.

“Recover quickly—we still have something far more important to do!”

After speaking, Zhou Qing took out a Blood Phoenix Tribulation Crystal and immediately began cultivating the Yin-Yang Scripture to absorb it.

His dominant aura had long since reached the level required for late-stage cultivation; the only thing lacking was spiritual power accumulation.

Now, his meridians were utterly depleted—the perfect moment to absorb.

Three Blood Phoenix Tribulation Crystals—in one day!

He wanted to test whether he could break directly into late-stage Soul Transformation, securing a sliver of hope for himself—and for Lu Yaoyao.

Lu Yaoyao nodded; this time, she did not refuse, but took the spirit stone.

She mentioned the mirror frame outside, then hesitated: “What about Yan Sen? Is he still trapped inside?”

Zhou Qing turned his head, his gaze calm: “He’s dead.”

(End of Chapter)