Chapter 140: Shouji Xiansheng

Safe? Temporarily safe?

Shi Ran's legs went weak, she nearly collapsed to the ground, only able to barely stand by leaning against a nearby black tree, panting heavily, her heart pounding nonstop.

Qian Mian also stopped, his breathing heavy. He glanced back at the unwilling shadows at the edge of the clearing, confirmed they could not enter, then slowly straightened his gaze toward the shabby house emitting a dim yellow light.

His expression became extremely complex, with wariness, scrutiny, a faint awe, and above all a deep sense of having finally found his target.

The wooden door of the shabby house was shut tight, the oil lamp inside burning quietly, as if unaware of what happened outside, yet as if everything was under control.

This clearing, this shabby house, and the unknown presence within became an absolute safe island amidst the frantic pursuit.

The breath of having escaped death gradually calmed, but a more heart‑pounding silence settled over them.

Qian Mian tidied his utterly ruined robe, wiping blood and grime from his face, trying to look less disheveled. He took a deep breath, and with a hint of solemnity and probing tone, spoke:

Junior Qian Mian, I have come as promised to pay a visit. Though I have disturbed you while passing through dangerous places, please, Mr. Shouji, show yourself.

His voice was not loud, yet it rang clearly across the silent clearing.

Shi Ran's heart leapt. "Mr. Shouji"? Is that the mysterious person Qian Mian wants to see? After all they've been through—life‑and‑death trials, crossing the Misty Forest and Black Teeth Hills—is this place really their destination?

Inside the shabby house, utter silence.

Only the faint yellow glow of the oil lamp swayed slightly behind the window.

As if responding to the visitor outside.

After a few breaths, perhaps longer.

"Creak—"

A grating, slow scraping sound rang out.

The rough wooden door, looking extremely heavy, was slowly pushed open a crack from inside.

A figure, set in the darkness of the doorway gap, was even more indistinct than the dim lamp light.

Only a pair of eyes, unusually clear. Not the cloudy eyes of an old person, but like two deep ancient wells that reflect no light yet seem able to swallow one's soul, having settled endless years and loneliness.

Those eyes first swept over Qian Mian, paused slightly, as if confirming something.

Then, his gaze passed over him, precise and unwavering, landing on Shi Ran, still shaken, leaning against the tree.

More precisely, it fell on the wrist of her hand wrapped in the silent red thread.

A sound like sandpaper scraping dry wood drifted slowly from the crack, each word heavy with weight and a cold scrutiny:

"Our agreement was for yesterday."

Those ancient‑well eyes lingered on the red thread at Shi Ran's wrist for a full three breaths. The gaze was not greedy, but an icy, almost academic scrutiny, as if verifying an object's authenticity and condition—yet that made it all the more chilling.

Shi Ran felt a sharp sting on her wrist, as if an invisible needle probed it. The silent red thread seemed to twitch slightly, as if sensing a great threat yet unable to resist.

"Our agreement was for yesterday." Shouji Xiansheng's voice sounded again, slow and hoarse, shifting his gaze back to Qian Mian with a silent question.

Qian Mian gave a bitter laugh, lowered his posture further, and cupped his hands: "Senior, please understand—changes arose in the Misty Forest, the nodes fluctuated, spatial turbulence surged; I barely made it out alive, merely lucky to survive. The delay was not my wish; I beg your forgiveness."

His tone was sincere, even tinged with lingering fear, lightly mentioning the dangers he'd faced—both an explanation and a subtle hint that he was not without value.

The shadows behind the door fell silent for a moment, those eyes narrowing slightly, as if weighing the truth of Qian Mian's words and his present condition. Outside the clearing, the unwilling cries of the night patrollers could still be faintly heard, further emphasizing the place's eerie quiet.

"Come in." Finally, Shouji Xiansheng uttered two words; the door opened a little more, enough for one person to pass. He turned first, merging into the dim yellow light inside, revealing only a blurred, thin, slightly stooped back.

Qian Mian visibly exhaled in relief, glanced at Shi Ran with a look, and whispered: "Follow me, watch what you say."

Shi Ran's heart hammered; her intuition told her this shabby house was more dangerous than the night patrollers outside, yet there was no retreat. She inhaled deeply, suppressed her fear and doubt, followed Qian Mian inside, and entered the shabby house.

Inside was even more cramped than it looked from outside, the furnishings extremely simple, almost crude: a rough stone bed, a wooden table, a chair, and on the table an old‑style oil lamp whose bean‑sized flame burned steadily, casting a dim yellow glow that barely lit the small room.

Dried herbs of strange shapes and several unidentifiable animal bones hung on the walls; the air mingled the bitterness of medicinal herbs, old dust, and an indescribable, incense‑like cold stillness.

Shouji Xiansheng stood by the table, his back to them, slowly wiping an object with a black cloth—apparently a dagger, ancient in design, its blade dark and lacking luster.

Only now could Shi Ran barely make out his profile. He wore a deep‑gray robe whose material was hard to discern, his frame slender, resembling the gray‑robed figure she had encountered in the Lotus Secret Realm.

Yet the skin on the back of his hand was desiccated, covered in deep wrinkles and several dark spots, exuding a strong aura of age—clearly not the same as the gray‑robed person who claimed to be the author.

Shi Ran pressed her lips together, unable to see any flaw in him, and could only steel herself to cope.

Upon entering, Qian Mian stood respectfully to the side, head lowered and silent, appearing unusually obedient.

The old man's presence itself was like a huge magnet, drawing all attention while exuding a cold aura that kept people at bay. Shi Ran's gaze involuntarily returned to the red thread on her wrist, her uneasy foreboding growing stronger.

"The 'trouble' you brought is far more lively than you said." Shouji Xiansheng suddenly spoke, still not turning, his voice flat and unchanging, yet it made Shi Ran's heart clutch—what did he mean, was he going to let her die?

Qian Mian hurriedly replied: "Senior, your insight is like a torch. This is indeed my oversight—I never imagined that while passing through the node we would……"

"It's not the node's problem." Shouji Xiansheng interrupted him, finally stopping his wiping and slowly turning around.

His front view was even more striking than his back. His visage was withered, wrinkles deep as knife cuts and axe marks; his eyes were indeed like ancient wells, bottomless, barely showing any sclera, just a pure, light‑absorbing darkness. His nose was high, his lips thin and pressed together, his face expressionless, like a weathered human‑skin mask.

Yet his gaze possessed a substantive weight.

At this moment, that gaze fell unobstructed on Shi Ran's wrist, carrying an almost scorching curiosity… and longing.

"It's hungry." In Shouji Xiansheng's voice, for the first time, a faint hint of astonishment appeared: "Moreover, it has been 'fed' a bit… something special." He obviously meant the drop of dark‑gold blood from Qian Mian.

Qian Mian's eyes flickered, but he said nothing.

Shouji Xiansheng stepped forward, closing in on Shi Ran. Though he was short, even a bit petite, his oppressive presence made her barely able to breathe; she instinctively retreated half a step, her back hitting the cold, rough wooden door.

"Don't move." Shouji Xiansheng commanded, his voice low yet undeniable.

He extended his withered, speckled hand, fingers slightly curled, reaching toward Shi Ran's wrist without touching. She instantly felt an icy force clamp her wrist, lifting her arm and holding it in midair.

"Senior!" Qian Mian stepped forward, as if wanting to say something.

Shouji Xiansheng merely gave him a faint glance. Qian Mian's words caught in his throat, his steps halted, a flicker of struggle crossed his face before fading into silence, his eyes fixed on Shouji Xiansheng's movements.

Shi Ran felt horror; she tried to struggle, but found her spiritual power completely frozen—she couldn't move a finger, only watch helplessly as that withered hand drew nearer.

Shouji Xiansheng's fingertip finally touched the red thread.

At the moment of contact, the hitherto silent, even slightly cold red thread burst into blinding red light! A violent, hungry emotion brimming with destructive urge surged along Shouji Xiansheng's fingertip and struck back!

"Hmph!" Shouji Xiansheng let out a short, cold snort; a faint, nearly invisible gray radiance appeared on his withered finger. The violent red light struck the gray glow—like waves hitting a rock—and was instantly canceled and absorbed, unable to shift it in the slightest.

Yet his interest grew stronger. "Indeed… it possesses a faint instinctive consciousness, even able to spontaneously consume energy and retaliate. A remarkable creation… almost a living thing."

His fingertips lightly stroked the red thread, the motion so gentle it felt like he was caressing a lover's skin, but Shi Ran felt a piercing pain, as if those fingers were trying to peel away her flesh and draw out her soul! The red thread thrashed and struggled beneath his fingertips, its red light flickering, yet it could never shake off the pressure of that grayish glow.

"A pure amalgam of resentment, curses, and the essence of the abyss……using the soul as soil, blood and qi as nourishment……its growth potential is extremely high……" Shouji muttered to himself, as if making an appraisal, "Unfortunately, the cultivation method is too crude, wasting its potential……and moreover, some other things have been mixed in……interfering with it……fire lotus……magic power……"

He suddenly lifted his head, and those ancient-well-like eyes met Shi Ran's gaze for the first time: "Who planted this in you?"

Shi Ran gritted her teeth; the intense pain and overwhelming fear made her tremble all over, yet she stubbornly refused to speak.

Shouji seemed not to expect her answer either, lowering his head again to stare intently at the struggling red thread. "It doesn't matter if you don't answer. This thing is already preliminarily entangled with your soul and spirit; forcibly tearing it away will cause your soul to scatter and your spirit to dissipate."

Shi Ran had just felt a faint glimmer of hope, but hearing Shouji continue in his flat, unemotional tone, she heard him say, "However, I have a better method."

He suddenly raised his other hand and gently beckoned at the oil lamp on the table.

The bean-sized flame suddenly leapt, separating a thin wisp of dim yellow fire that floated lightly to his fingertip. Though the flame looked weak, it exuded a chilling aura of extinction, as if it could burn all things to nothing and ultimately return to dead stillness.

"With this 'Extinction Fire,' I will temper its vitality, erase its chaotic consciousness, leaving only the purest essence……and then," Shouji's gaze turned once more to Shi Ran, and in those ancient-well-like eyes a clear hint of greed finally appeared, "it can then be safely 'taken' out."

"And the power it devours and settles might perhaps allow me……to return safely."

He finally revealed his purpose! He not only wants the red thread, but also all the energy it has devoured from the abyss and from spatial turbulence during this time! He intends to use it to go home!

Shi Ran felt as if she had plunged into an ice cellar! It turned out that Qianmian had brought her here not to resolve the curse, but to offer her and the "treasure" on her wrist together to that terrifying "Shouji"!

That gray‑robed person!

"Qianmian!" she despairingly looked toward the man who had led her here.

Qianmian's expression shifted unpredictably; when Shouji produced that wisp of extinction fire, a flicker of fear also crossed his eyes. He opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something to Shi Ran, and as if wanting to say something to Shouji.

But Shouji gave no one time to react. His fingertips wrapped in that wisp of extinction fire, he pressed down steadily and resolutely onto the red thread on Shi Ran's wrist!

"No!" Shi Ran let out a shrill scream, straining with all her might, yet she could not move an inch!

That dim yellow wisp of flame touched the red thread.

"Sizzle——!"

An extremely strange sound rang out—not like burning, but like something rapidly withering, carbonizing, and returning to dead stillness. The red thread burst forth with an unprecedented red light, thrashing wildly, transmitting extreme pain and fear, and even through the symbiotic link it directly struck Shi Ran's soul!

Shi Ran felt as if her soul were being roasted over a fire, an indescribable pain instantly engulfing all her consciousness! Yet the skin on her wrist showed no burn marks at all; the pain acted directly on the red thread, on the soul entwined with her!

Shouji's face was expressionless, his eyes intensely focused; the extinction fire on his fingertip burned steadily, gradually suppressing and consuming the red light's resistance. The red thread's glow dimmed at a visible pace, its trembling shrinking, as if it were truly being "tempered" of its vitality.

Qianmian clenched his fists, nails almost digging into his palms, as he looked at the anguished Shi Ran, at the red thread gradually fading, and then at Shouji's focused, greedy profile; the conflict in his eyes grew stronger.

He indeed needed Shouji's power to accomplish something; for that he spared no expense, even bringing Shi Ran, who bore a strange treasure, as a "gift." But he never expected Shouji to act so directly and domineeringly, nor that the "Extinction Fire" would be so terrifying……this differed somewhat from the "transaction" he had imagined.

Just as the red thread's light was about to fade completely——

Then—an abrupt anomaly!