Chapter 532: Digging Out the Core

With Pan Xiaohei's help, Pan Yun crawled out of the bushes.

She gripped her sword in hand, propped herself up with one arm pressed against her left upper shoulder, then leaned forward to peer into the pit.

Pan Xiaohei jumped over: "Don't look—it's definitely dead. Fell from that height with no cover or cushioning."

"No, we have to confirm. Cut the grass and remove the roots—I don't want some revenge-movie nonsense."

But as she neared the pit, a wave of bloodstink surged up—Pan Yun gagged.

She collapsed onto her back, clutching her head, groaning: "Can't move—it's a concussion. You go down and check."

Pan Xiaohei stared at her skeptically. "My physical form is in your Upper Dantian. I don't feel any concussion in your head."

"I say there is, there is. You're only in my Upper Dantian, not my whole brain." Pan Yun was about to threaten it when a faint moan rose from the bottom of the pit.

Pan Yun and Pan Xiaohei both fell silent—one girl, one cat, neither spoke.

Pan Yun kept lying there, only gently pressing her feet against the ground, sliding backward slightly until she was sure the person at the bottom couldn't see her—then a vial appeared in her hand. She poured out a pill and shoved it into her mouth.

She thought for a moment, then poured out another pill and shoved it in.

Two large pills filled her mouth, puffing out both cheeks. She chewed the spirit medicine, releasing torrents of medicinal essence and spiritual energy into her meridians, replenishing her primordial energy.

Pan Xiaohei crouched low, automatically detaching its soul to return to its body, then began channeling spiritual energy outward.

Pan Yun took it without hesitation, drawing in the spiritual energy and medicinal essence together to nourish her meridians, finally condensing them into pure primordial energy that settled into her Upper Dantian.

Rustling came from the pit's bottom—Ming San's primordial energy was also exhausted, and his injuries were even worse than Pan Yun's.

When he woke on the giant bird's back, his vision was blurred, the world spinning—everything was indistinct, his skull roaring.

He couldn't see, couldn't hear—he could only rely on touch to feel around him.

He touched the warm but lifeless body beneath him—the giant bird—and felt rage and grief. He shook his head, barely making out that he was inside the pit.

With sheer willpower, he crawled upward.

He didn't know how long he crawled, but finally reached the pit's edge. He pushed up with his arms, rolling over—when a familiar voice called: "Hey—"

Ming San instinctively looked up—and felt a chill pierce his chest.

He looked down and saw a sword thrust clean through his chest. Only now did he feel the pain.

He stared up in disbelief at the person sitting before him.

Pan Yun grinned at him, yanked the sword out with a *puff*, then slammed it back in with brutal force.

Ming San spat blood in great gouts, half-collapsed on the ground. "You—you have the audacity… The Ming Eagle Sect and the Five Grains Sect won't let you live."

Pan Yun's face was expressionless. "Feuds breed more feuds—when will they end? I advise both sects to let go of their grudges. Otherwise, one comes, I kill one; two come, I kill two."

Ming San collapsed completely, his eyes still alive, reaching desperately toward Pan Yun: "Save me… I'll resolve the grudges between the three sects… Save me, save me…"

Pan Yun regarded him coldly.

Ming San's eyes filled with hatred: "You possess a Merit Body—eating you is like consuming a demon core or spirit herb. You won't have a good end… you won't…"

Pan Yun didn't bother listening. With a *puff*, she yanked the sword free. Ming San's eyes dimmed, fading into stillness.

Pan Yun felt him die completely, then exhaled, wiped her sword clean, and sheathed it.

Every part of Pan Yun ached. The sword qi from the aerial strike had pierced her left shoulder, and the internal injuries from the fall made even the slightest movement agony. She looked at Pan Xiaohei: "Go dig out the giant bird's demon core."

Pan Xiaohei leapt down.

The giant bird had been split in two by Pan Yun's strike and had fallen from above—now nearly mashed into meat pulp.

It searched for a long time before finally turning up a red demon core.

It jumped up. Pan Yun also rummaged through Ming San's body—besides his sword, there was only one vial of healing medicine and some cash. The money was minimal—only eighty-odd taels—but Pan Yun didn't mind, since she had not a single copper coin on her.

Pan Yun unhesitatingly took the cash, then tossed the healing medicine and sword to Pan Xiaohei: "Keep them. I find them filthy."

Pan Xiaohei didn't mind.

It needed to cultivate its feline body and had to start saving up to buy spirit herbs.

It tucked away the sword and healing medicine, then lifted its paw to show Pan Yun the demon core in its palm.

Pan Yun glanced at it once and said: "It's yours."

Pan Xiaohei was stunned: "This demon core's worth a fortune."

Pan Yun spat blood out with a *puff*—Pan Xiaohei leapt back in alarm.

Pan Yun spat twice to clear her mouth, then weakly said: "Take it. Killing this man and demon cost me forty merit points—but you digging out the core just cost me a thousand. Pan Xiaohei, remember: this blood I spat? It's for you."

Pan Xiaohei: …

Bullshit. She'd spat blood from internal injuries caused by the fall—what did that have to do with it digging the core?

No mistake. One word. One line. One detail. One thing. One look!

But this demon core was truly vital to it.

Pan Xiaohei tucked the demon core away, silently accepting it.

After spitting blood, Pan Yun kicked the half-collapsed Ming San into the pit.

With the stagnant blood expelled and the medicine taking effect, she felt much better.

She collected all her blood, scooping up the blood-soaked soil—anything she saw, she stuffed into a burlap sack.

After confirming nothing was left, she formed a hand seal—a fireball appeared in her palm. She tossed it casually into the pit.

Pan Xiaohei realized belatedly: "The bird's feathers, bones, and flesh all seem usable."

Pan Yun: "… Why didn't you wait until I burned it all?"

The girl and cat leaned over to look. Pan Yun's spell was effective—the flames roared fiercely. The bird's feathers burned unusually easily; the entire pit was now engulfed in roaring fire.

Pan Xiaohei pulled its head back: "Let's go back."

Pan Yun also reluctantly withdrew her gaze, waved her hand—and the Three Treasures Cauldron, lying not far away, flew toward her.

But Pan Yun didn't leave immediately. She meditated, waiting for the fire to burn out.

When the bones and corpses at the pit's bottom were fully consumed, she formed a hand seal again—the soil trembled and shifted, filling the pit completely, erasing all traces of the bodies. Only then did she and Pan Xiaohei climb into the cauldron and slowly fly back to Long Hushan.

The Qi she had cultivated through pills was just enough to get her back to Long Hushan.

Pan Yun knew the academy's taboos and dared not fly directly in on her flying artifact; instead, she landed halfway up the mountain and walked back, clutching her chest and enduring the pain.

When she reached the gates of Da Shangqing Palace, she measured the height with a glance, then resignedly used her lightness skill to leap over the wall.

Only then did she realize how high the walls of Da Shangqing Palace and the academy were.

Pan Yun flipped down and landed with a thud, half-falling to the ground.

It took her half an hour to reach the entrance of Fengqi Courtyard, and she didn't know whether the academy's Mr. had noticed her.

She hoped they hadn't, and if they had, she hoped they would remain silent as always.

Pan Yun pushed open the courtyard gate; Zhang Weiyi and Xue Hua, who had been alert all along, rushed out and stared in shock at Pan Yun staggering in: "Y-you—you're covered in blood!"

Pan Yun raised her index finger, shushing them, and whispered, "Don't shout. I'm fine. Tomorrow, you can leave." (End of chapter)