Nan Yan kept glancing back at the crowd, unable to pinpoint the sinister aura that had unsettled her.
“Stop worrying about trivial matters. Which shade of white do you think suits you best?” Yin Ya, though a fox spirit, was quite particular about appearances. After shopping for his own needs, he dragged Nan Yan to a robe shop.
In the cultivation world, robes were significant. While not as practical as armor, well-made magical robes could enhance a cultivator’s casting speed or nourish spiritual energy.
Since leaving seclusion, Nan Yan had been preoccupied with combat. Under the influence of the Seven Buddha Karma Scripture, she rarely met her match among peers and didn’t care much about clothing. She scanned the row of dresses Yin Ya had selected, bewildered. “Aren’t they all white?”
“How can you say they’re the same? Moon white, snow white, ice white, warm white, ivory white – the differences are huge. Look closer.”
Unable to discern any differences, Nan Yan maintained a serious attitude. “Appearances and sounds are external things. As a monk, I cultivate the clear mirror of enlightenment. I only need clothes to cover my body and food to fill my stomach…”
Yin Ya scoffed, “After ten years in seclusion, you shouldn’t call yourself a female cultivator anymore.”
“Then what should I call myself?” Nan Yan asked.
“A nun,” Yin Ya replied.
In the end, Yin Ya forcefully chose a moon-white dress with subtle crane embroidery, insisting she change into it.
“Hurry and change out of those blood-stained monk robes. Chen State is a prosperous place in the cultivation world. Dressing well will save you a lot of trouble.”
“Oh?”
His certainty suggested he knew something about Chen State’s customs. Nan Yan took the dress and changed into a side room. As she was putting on pearl earrings, her spiritual sense stirred. She paused, moved to the window, and opened it slightly.
Next to the robe shop was an unremarkable magical tool pavilion. By its back wall stood two people – the Chu cultivator and Meng Ying, who had come with them.
Nan Yan closed her eyes slightly, gently extending her spiritual sense. It suddenly broke through the Pseudo-Core Formation stage limit, reaching the early Core Formation level in strength.
Humans have six senses – eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind. The Sin of Consciousness chapter in the Seven Buddha Karma Scripture didn’t excel in attack, but greatly enhanced these six senses, significantly improving Nan Yan’s insight and allowing her to notice things others couldn’t.
For instance, the current situation.
Under her early Core Formation spiritual sense, the shallow spiritual barrier set by the two Yingyue Sect members was practically useless.
“…We agreed on a time. Why aren’t they here yet? We’ve held onto this item long enough. It’s safer to get rid of it quickly,” said the Chu cultivator.
Nan Yan had never revealed it, but she knew this Chu cultivator. Though grown, his features still bore traces of the petty, vindictive look he had when first entering the sect.
…Chu Jing.
Now his brow twitched slightly as he hunched, eyes darting about nervously as if he had done something guilty.
In contrast, Meng Ying beside him seemed calmer. She said, “Senior Brother, be patient. The sect’s sudden downfall wasn’t our wish. We’re merely preserving its legacy, not fleeing with treasures, right?”
The sect’s sudden downfall? Yingyue Sect was destroyed?
Nan Yan leaned against the window, fingering her prayer beads. Yingyue Sect was a notable organization. She had been traveling in the southern Mortal State exorcising demons for half a year; if it had been destroyed, she would have known.
Lost in thought, Nan Yan suddenly tensed. A person abruptly appeared within her spiritual sense range.
Given her spiritual sense of strength, a cultivator of the same level couldn’t enter undetected.
Nan Yan suppressed her aura and focused. She saw a tall figure wrapped in a black cloak, strolling casually from outside. Chu Jing spotted him, initially alert, but relaxed slightly when the person showed a wooden tablet.
“Are you the buyer Old San Xu introduced?” Chu Jing asked.
The cloaked figure grunted affirmatively, tossing out a qiankun pouch. Chu Jing caught it eagerly before Meng Ying could, hastily open it. His face lit up with joy. “Friend, you’re straightforward. Junior Sister.”
Meng Ying nodded slightly, stepped forward, tapped the qiankun pouch, and produced a wooden box. When opened, it revealed a human head!
“I don’t know what you want this for. Senior Brother and I initially wanted to give it a proper burial, but the journey to Upper State is long, so we had no choice but to exchange it for travel expenses.”
The head in the box was covered with graying hair. Nan Yan frowned, scrutinizing it for a while before suddenly realizing who it belonged to.
She had seen this person when working in Yingyue Sect’s alchemy room. He was… the sect leader.
The cloaked figure spoke, his voice seemingly disguised, extremely low and hoarse: “Your sect leader died from thundershackle punishment. Currently, in the Upper State, only the law enforcers of Zi State’s Hall of Justice use this technique. Did they present any official decree at the time?”
“No!” Chu Jing’s expression turned frantic. “Those people all had Nascent Soul cultivation. They arrived saying our sect was suspected of harboring body snatchers. Before the elders could respond, they captured everyone with a bolt of lightning.”
The cloaked figure asked, “How did you escape?”
“I…” Chu Jing felt a chilling aura envelop him, his gaze slightly unfocused, as if about to reveal something.
Beside him, Meng Ying’s eyes flashed. She pursed her lips and said, “Senior Brother… was in love with me at the time. The sect leader intended to marry his daughter to Senior Brother, but he wanted to elope with me…”
Chu Jing shuddered, “That’s right, that’s right!”
The atmosphere between these two was strange. Chu Jing seemed to lack confidence. Although he appeared to be in charge, he always looked to Meng Ying’s face when crucial matters arose, unlike a pair of lovers.
“Oh?” The cloaked figure seemed to chuckle softly. He reached out to take the wooden box, saying, “I have other matters to attend to. I won’t disturb you further.”
As he extended his hand, a faint mechanical sound was heard. Nan Yan started, then noticed that although he wore black gloves, his right index finger was made of several wooden and metal pieces. It seemed as flexible as his other fingers… but it was severed.
Yingyue Sect’s destruction, a severed finger.
Nan Yan’s mind went blank for a moment. When she looked again, the man had vanished. Without a word, she darted out of the changing room into the main street of the market, extending her spiritual sense left and right to search for his whereabouts.
Passersby bumped by her and turned around irritably, about to berate her for the collision. But upon seeing her face clearly, their gazes became transfixed.
Nan Yan rushed through half the street before finally stopping, slightly frustrated as she furrowed her brow.
Perhaps she had been mistaken.
Sighing softly, she was about to turn back when someone called out to her.
“Excuse me, Daoist sister… are you a Buddhist cultivator?”
Nan Yan turned to see a young male cultivator in a jade-green robe, already at the early Core Formation stage. As she faced him, his eyes couldn’t hide his amazement.
People around them whispered:
“This nun is so beautiful.”
“Judging by her attire, she must be from a prestigious family.”
“What a pity she’s a Buddhist cultivator…”
Amidst the surprised and regretful murmurs, Nan Yan remained calm, having experienced such situations before. The benefit of Buddhist cultivation was maintaining composure. She calmly accepted everyone’s curious or calculating gazes, fingering her prayer beads as she replied mildly, “This humble nun is indeed a Buddhist cultivator. Does the Daoist friend need exorcism, soul summoning, or prayers for the deceased?”
The Core Formation cultivator with ulterior motives: “…”
Indeed, Buddhist cultivators differed from others. Weak in alchemy, artifacts, formations, and talismans, they had few ways to earn spirit stones. They could only rely on exorcism, soul summoning, demon suppression, or chanting sutras for blessings and funerals to collect meager donations.
The Core Formation cultivator, intent on flirtation and disregarding her addressing him as a “Daoist friend” despite her Pseudo-Core realm, adopted a gentle expression. “I am Yuan Feng. I’ve always been interested in Buddhist teachings. Meeting a fellow Buddhist on this whaling ship is truly fateful. May I invite you for some spirit tea at my quarters?”
Nan Yan thought, by his logic, that she had a “fateful encounter” with over ten thousand cultivators on this ship today. If everyone used this excuse to invite her for tea, she’d end up waterlogged.
She shook her head slightly and said, “I appreciate your kindness and wouldn’t normally refuse. However, I have a sickly brother waiting for me to bring him medicine. I really can’t spare the time. Perhaps we’ll meet again another day if fate allows.”
Yuan Feng sighed, “You’re truly compassionate. May I ask what ailment your brother suffers from? I am the young master of Sea Hawk City in Chen State. I’d be glad to help.”
Nan Yan replied solemnly, “My brother… he has a cross-dressing compulsion.”
Yuan Feng: “…”
Yuan Feng: “Daoist friend, surely you jest. How could such an illness exist?”
As he finished speaking, someone came charging from the other end of the street. In his left hand, he clutched a lotus-colored dress; in his right, he held a box of the most popular sunset-hued rouge. He stormed up to Nan Yan fiercely.
“Where did you run off to? Why did you leave before we finished shopping? Quick, look at this – does this dress match this rouge?”
The onlookers and Yuan Feng: “…”
Yin Ya looked puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
Nan Yan cupped her hands towards Yuan Feng and said, “This humble nun must now take her brother back for his medicine. Perhaps we’ll meet again another day. Farewell.”
With that, she took advantage of the crowd’s stunned state to drag away a confused Yin Ya.
After she left, the cultivator named Yuan Feng wore a strange expression. He returned to a nearby restaurant, where beautiful courtesans immediately surrounded him. Some massaged his shoulders, while others sat on his lap, offering him wine.
“Young Master, did you get a good look? Is she prettier than us?”
“She acted a bit strange, but she was indeed a beauty…” Yuan Feng took a few sips of wine, seemingly recalling the nun’s figure with increasing regret. “I’ve played with all sorts of female cultivators, but never a nun. This is the first time I’ve seen a nun who’s chosen the path of severing worldly ties. How interesting.”
A courtesan, dissatisfied, rubbed his chest and said, “Aren’t all nuns bald? What’s this about severing worldly ties? How could she compare to those with Yin Cauldron bodies?”
“You’re ignorant. Severing worldly ties means they never shave their heads. They keep their black hair to show their lifelong commitment to demon-slaying rather than seeking immortality. Only some highly virtuous masters in Mao State choose this path.” As he spoke, Yuan Feng’s gaze grew more eager. “She might not compare to the allure of a Yin Cauldron, but just imagining her saintly demeanor being defiled… it’s unbearably exciting.”
Seeing his arousal, a courtesan wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “I have something good in my room.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“Phantom Demon Lust Incense smuggled from Si State. Even Buddha would desire the mortal realm after smelling it… But Young Master, ruining a Buddhist cultivator’s practice would be sinful.”
“It’s fine. If she submits to me afterward, I’ll treat her well. If she’s stubborn…” Yuan Feng pressed himself against the courtesan, his eyes turning cruel, “This whale ship passes by Purple Skeleton Bay, a place where demonic cultivators lurk. It’s not unusual for a couple of people to go missing occasionally.”
Soon, the room filled with the sounds of passionate play amidst a thick, peach-colored haze. No one noticed the semi-transparent shadow, like a ghost from the underworld, silently slipping through the window crack into the room.
…
Early the next morning, Nan Yan had spent the night contemplating the Sin-Cleansing Scripture and had just gained new insights when someone knocked on her door. Thinking it was Yin Ya dragging her out shopping again, she felt a bit irritated. But upon opening the door, she saw three or four law enforcement cultivators from the whale ship, including a yellow-robed elder at the late Core Formation stage.
Nan Yan’s heart tightened slightly. She pressed her palms together and said, “Benevolent ones, what brings you here?”
“No need to be alarmed,” one of the law enforcers said calmly. “Are you the Buddhist friend named Zhengyuan?”
“I am.”
“Yesterday, did you encounter a cultivator named Yuan Feng?”
“Around dusk, we met briefly on East Street.”
“After dusk, did you go back to find him?”
“No, I returned directly to my lodgings with my companion.” Nan Yan asked, puzzled, “Has something happened?”
The law enforcer glanced back at the yellow-robed elder behind him. The elder stared at Nan Yan for a moment, then shook his head. “She’s not lying.”
The law enforcer recorded their conversation on a jade talisman, then said, “Last night, there was a suspected demonic cultivator attack. Yuan Feng is the young master of Sea Hawk City in Chen State. Today, all his concubines were found dead, their bodies devoid of vitality. Even soul-summoning methods couldn’t recall his soul – it seems to have been extracted. This must be the work of a demonic cultivator. Before the Sea Hawk City Lord arrives, we need to investigate everyone on the whaleship. Buddhist friend Zhengyuan, if you have any leads, please contact us immediately.”
…Killed?