Chapter 67: The Infamous Soul-Searching Technique

After eavesdropping on Qin Hanyan and Qin Jun’s conversation, Feng Ke’er dared not make any rash moves. She obediently huddled in the valley, practicing the Heart-Calming Incantation. Clearly, Qin Jun suspected nothing, but Qin Hanyan had already begun to doubt her. High-level cultivators had countless ways to spy on others, and she had to be on guard.

Nothing happened that day. After finishing her incantation, Feng Ke’er briefly reviewed the two new skills she had learned— the Icy Armor Technique and the Frozen World Technique.

The Icy Armor Technique was her first defensive skill. When activated, she instantly transformed into an ice porcupine, her whole body encased in an armor of ice bristling with ten-centimeter-long spikes. Combined with her homemade Fire Ant Shell Armor, the effect was even better. This technique didn’t consume much spiritual power, but it could only last two hours at a time, and required at least six hours before it could be used again.

The Frozen World Technique was a new area attack skill. With her current spiritual power, she could freeze everything within a ten-mile radius in the blink of an eye, and the effect would last half an hour. The results were spectacular, but its drawback was a huge drain on spiritual power—each use consumed over a third of her reserves.

If she encountered a formidable enemy, using both skills together would be her best bet for escape. Thus, she practiced with utmost diligence.

Worried about being monitored, she dared not openly practice in the valley and could only repeatedly simulate the techniques in her mind—a method of cultivation she had discovered by chance after reaching the third stage of Foundation Building. She had six dantians, large and small. After her latest advancement, she found through the Mind’s Eye Technique that not only had her dantians expanded, but each was now encircled by a five-colored ring. Unlike the rapidly spinning spiritual liquid within, these rings were solid, like glowing sticks of red, yellow, green, black, and gold, woven together and sparkling beautifully. Perhaps it was due to the increased number of dantians, but now she could focus on six tasks at once! Even more mysteriously, the black spiritual liquid dantian could simulate the casting of skills. In other words, she could concentrate most of her consciousness in the black dantian, and then, as in normal spellcasting, channel her spiritual power. The result: her spiritual power remained untouched, the skill wasn’t actually performed, but a set of data reflecting the outcome would appear in her mind.

Sitting cross-legged in the hut, Feng Ke’er practiced again and again, gradually entering a state of flow.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when her stomach began to protest loudly. Only then did she stop cultivating.

When she opened her eyes, she was startled into a cold sweat: night had already fallen, and directly across from her sat a shadowy figure. The bronze demon mask on his face glimmered with a strange green light in the moonbeams.

A black-robed man—yes, the very same one who could sprout a snake’s tail! But she was sure she’d left a wisp of spiritual sense on guard—how had she not noticed anything?

“You, you…” Feng Ke’er’s first instinct was to flee.

But to her despair, she found her limbs tightly bound by invisible cords, rendering her utterly immobile.

Terrifying! What on earth did this deadly figure intend?

Two icy glares shot her way. The black-robed man demanded in a harsh tone, “Where is Qin Heng?”

“Dead,” Feng Ke’er blurted out. Everything was a mess—her limbs refused to obey, but her mouth ran ahead of her brain, speaking whatever came to mind. This wouldn’t do! She immediately focused all her consciousness, bracing herself. Sweat broke out on her back.

“How did he die?” the black-robed man pressed.

“Who are you?” Feng Ke’er finally regained control of her mouth, though it took a Herculean effort and left her drenched in sweat after just that short sentence.

The black-robed man was taken aback. He inhaled sharply, his tone turning even harsher: “Answer me!”

Instantly, the pressure bore down like Mount Tai, and the familiar sensation returned. Could her Concealment Talisman have failed? Feng Ke’er’s head felt leaden and the pain intensified. She almost opened her mouth to answer.

The hut fell utterly silent. Outside, on a summer night, not a single insect’s chirp penetrated the air. It meant the black-robed man had set a restriction.

Good—at least she needn’t worry about “Great Aunt’s” surveillance. Realizing this, Feng Ke’er prepared to fight back. But her foe was too powerful; even giving her all, she could barely hold her ground.

No, she must not yield! Pressing her hands into the floor, she clenched her jaw in stubborn defiance. The secrets she bore were nothing short of miraculous in the lower realm—a Concealment Talisman, the Codex, and Azureblade Sword—any one of them exposed would drive all cultivators to risk their lives for them! To survive, she had to keep her mouth shut!

They remained locked in stalemate for about ten breaths. Finally, the black-robed man gave up, snorting coldly through his nose. The oppressive force and pain vanished.

Soaked to the bone, Feng Ke’er propped herself up, gasping like a fish out of water, utterly spent.

But the black-robed man wasn’t in much better shape. Feng Ke’er keenly noticed that, despite his efforts to conceal it, his breathing was somewhat ragged—a clear sign of severe spiritual depletion!

“Speak! Who are you?” The black-robed man quickly steadied his breath and barked, “Qin Heng could never have resisted a Soul-Searching Spell!”

So that was it—he’d just tried to use the Soul-Searching Spell! Instantly, information about the spell flashed in Feng Ke’er’s mind: cultivators at the Core Formation stage and above could forcefully invade another’s spiritual sea, laying bare all their most hidden secrets! It was a truly cruel technique. During the process, the victim suffered excruciating agony, and in the end, their spiritual sea would shatter, leaving them little more than a walking corpse.

Such venom! She had no past enmity with this wretch—what was he after? Feng Ke’er couldn’t help but curse, “None of your damn business, you snake demon!”

The black-robed man sprang to his feet, his sword flashing out, the tip aimed right at her nose. “So you were spying after all!”

But Feng Ke’er’s own sword was not much slower. In a flash of green light, the Azureblade Sword was unsheathed almost simultaneously.

With a clang, the two swords collided, sparks flying.

Her opponent’s sword actually chipped! The black-robed man’s figure swayed.

But Feng Ke’er was sent flying back, crashing heavily into a wooden pillar before collapsing to the floor.

There was indeed a restriction around the hut. Otherwise, she would have been flung out into the night like a shooting star.

She was lucky—her palm was torn and bleeding, her entire right arm numb, yet the Azureblade Sword clung to her hand as if it were a sixth finger, never leaving her grip.

Her back and chest felt ablaze, burning fiercely. Lying on the ground, Feng Ke’er coughed violently, seeing nothing but a haze of stars.

“Overestimating yourself!” the black-robed man sneered, his gaze locking onto the Azureblade Sword, suddenly burning with greed. No wonder this youngster’s spiritual power was mediocre but his consciousness so strong—he must have a celestial artifact protecting him! Besides this oddly shaped sword, there must be other treasures on him as well!

Feng Ke’er, struggling on the ground, shook the stars from her vision and squinted up, only to see the black-robed man, sword in hand, his shadow looming ever closer.

This was bad! Gathering her strength, she fixed her gaze on the approaching shadow. This ruthless villain—falling into his hands would be worse than death. In that case, they might as well perish together.

But just as the black-robed man came within a meter of her, he abruptly stopped, stamping his foot in frustration. “Next time, don’t count on being so lucky!” With that, his figure blurred into a wisp of black smoke and vanished.

In an instant, the sounds outside the hut surged back like a tide. The night breeze gently stroked the world, and insects resumed their quiet chorus. How wonderful the world seemed.

“Demon, stop right there!” Qin Hanyan’s voice followed swiftly.

So he’d been scared off by “Great Aunt”!

Feng Ke’er immediately sheathed the Azureblade Sword. Her nerves finally relaxed, and she spat out a mouthful of blood before collapsing. In her hazy state, she saw Qin Hanyan storm in like a whirlwind. “Heng’er!”

The night was so very dark...

Qin Hanyan rushed over, scooping the unconscious youth into her arms and quickly assessing his condition.

That was close—he’d been subjected to the Soul-Searching Spell! Her expression changed dramatically. She pressed two fingers to Feng Ke’er’s wrist, her brows furrowing so tightly they could pinch a mosquito to death.

After a moment, she let out a long sigh, releasing her grip and gently laying the youth down. Muttering to herself, she said, “Heng’er, I’m sorry. Great Aunt shouldn’t have doubted you.” Because she’d suspected her beloved grandson had been replaced, she’d cruelly left him alone in the wild. Yet a person’s pulse could not lie. The youth before her was indeed on the verge of breaking through from the early to the mid-stage of Qi Refining, and the pulse showed traces of a dominant consciousness. Combined with his spiritual fluctuations, it was clear he was in the initial aftermath of the Soul-Searching Spell.

Fortunately, she’d sensed the sudden appearance of a restriction in the hut and rushed over in time. Otherwise, if her younger sister’s tragedy were to repeat, she would rather cut her own throat than survive in shame.

Feng Ke’er truly lost consciousness. When she woke, she found herself lying in a completely unfamiliar room. Instantly, she sent out her consciousness to check herself and her surroundings. It was clear she was still in the outer sect.

Qin Jun clapped his hands and exclaimed, “Qin Heng, you’re one lucky fellow!”

Feng Ke’er rejoiced inwardly, silently thanking the powerful Concealment Talisman, and asked feebly, “Big brother, where am I?”

“This is my room. You were injured. After Great Aunt healed you, she brought you here for me to look after. You were unconscious for three whole days and nights! You just lay there, not moving a muscle, barely breathing. If Great Aunt hadn’t warned me you’d be out for a while, you would’ve scared me to death—I was afraid you’d end up like Little Great Aunt.”

Hearing that Qin Hanyan no longer suspected her, Feng Ke’er was secretly delighted. With the danger passed, she curiously pried some information about “Little Great Aunt” from Qin Jun. “Little Great Aunt” was Qin Hanyan’s younger sister. It was said she had once been a cultivation prodigy, but sadly, she’d fallen victim to a rival’s Soul-Searching Spell and was left ruined. Thanks to Qin Hanyan’s efforts, she had improved slightly, but her intellect was that of a four-year-old child. No wonder, then, that at Wild Chicken Slope, Qin Hanyan had mentioned making a shuttlecock for her younger sister.

Damn that Soul-Searching Spell! Upon learning all this, Feng Ke’er could only sigh in relief at her narrow escape.

(The End of Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Detestable Soul-Searching Spell)