Chapter Nineteen: Is She a Thief?

Inside the long corridor of the Jingxin Hall, Ren Ye hunched over, his fingers tracing the gap of a chamber door, when his body suddenly stiffened.

As his fingers brushed past, there was no resistance.

The strand of hair he had carefully placed as a trap was broken; someone had just entered this room.

Tonight, he had made preparations in two locations: the bedchamber and the Jingxin Hall. This was not because he was omniscient, but because he had pushed everything he could do to its absolute limit.

He only had one life, and he was determined to cherish it.

Stepping back three paces, Ren Ye gathered his strength and kicked the door open.

"Bang!"

The door frame rattled, shaking loose a cloud of dust. The chamber inside was pitch black and unnaturally silent.

"I know you're in there. Come out." As Ren Ye stood in the shadows of the corridor, the nearby palace lanterns flickered, casting a ghostly blue light.

After a brief silence, a creaking sound emerged from the room, and the figure of Liu Ling'er appeared in the darkness. "I am truly curious: how did you figure out that Er Leng had been charmed?"

"The bloodstains. The bloodstains at Chunxiang Garden were wrong." Ren Ye stared at her silhouette, motionless. "You staged the scene, but it was too rushed. The little eunuch's blood was splattered, but the blood from Er Leng’s injury was too congealed. If there had been a struggle, the blood pattern wouldn't be so uniform. Plus, he had left that afternoon..."

Liu Ling'er felt a surge of shock but stepped forward. "Then how did you know I wasn't here to kill you, but to enter the Jingxin Hall? And that you had already set a trap here?!"

Ren Ye gauged the distance between them, his mind clear. "Before Er Leng left the Xile Palace, I didn't know what you were planning. However, since you had already begun the script, I just followed along. I am a waste; the only places I can move about are the bedchamber and the Jingxin Hall."

With those two sentences, all of Liu Ling'er's doubts were resolved.

"What exactly do you do in the real world?!" Liu Ling'er felt deeply frustrated. She felt her actions had no flaws, and she had seized the initiative twice in this game, yet she had still been outmaneuvered by this good-for-nothing Prince Huai.

"I am not your father; I have no obligation to answer all your questions," Ren Ye replied coldly. "Do you want to live? If you do, I have a few questions for you."

Liu Ling'er acted as if she were deep in thought and slowly stepped forward. "What do you want to ask?"

"Have you found your teammates? Who are they?" Ren Ye’s gaze was somewhat hollow.

Liu Ling'er bowed her head in silence.

"If you won't say, then you have no value to me."

"I have indeed found my teammates." Liu Ling'er stepped up, lifting her head; she was no more than ten steps away. "Fine, I want to live. There are two teammates, and their identity cards are..."

"Whoosh!!!"

Suddenly, a fierce look crossed Liu Ling'er's face. She flicked her wrist, firing a dark purple steel nail like a bolt of light. It whistled through the air, heading straight for Ren Ye's forehead.

This nail, known as the Soul-Shattering Needle, was Liu Ling'er's final trump card. It could shatter a person's soul without leaving a single external mark.

As the needle flew toward his face, Ren Ye closed his eyes instantly and whispered, "Within a hundred paces, a vengeful ghost blocks death."

"Swish!"

Suddenly, a ghostly shadow rose from the ground.

The ghost wore the attire of a maid, her face deathly pale, yet her cheeks were flushed with a vibrant pink, and a thin ligature mark was visible around her neck.

The female ghost stuck out a long, red tongue and stared at Liu Ling'er with venomous eyes before lunging forward.

"Pfft!"

The soul needle shot in and, in the blink of an eye, pinned itself into the ghost's forehead.

"Ah!!!"

The vengeful spirit let out a miserable shriek, and her soul scattered on the spot.

"Clatter!"

The needle fell to the ground, instantly losing its luster.

Liu Ling'er stood in the room, her expression frozen, her eyes filled with despair.

"I am cautious; I am not easy to kill." Ren Ye slowly shook his head. Radiating a powerful, eerie yin aura, he stepped into the chamber. "It seems you didn't intend to live either."

The Imperial Brush he had activated in the secret room possessed the ability to replicate supernatural arts. That was why, before the final battle tonight, he had gone to the Princess's bedchamber and, at the cost of "supplying" her with two hours of Heavenly Amnesty Qi, traded for a chance to "steal" a technique...

This was his trump card, though it carried severe side effects and numerous restrictions. He hadn't even shown his strongest ability yet, but time was running out.

Liu Ling'er completely broke down. Pale-faced, she clenched her fists and roared, "This is unfair! Why is your special ability...?!"

"I am in the light, you are in the dark; how is that unfair? It’s just that my brain is a little better than yours." Ren Ye raised the Sword of Pacifying the Kingdom. "Since you don't want to talk, I won't ask."

"Boom!"

Just as Ren Ye swung the sword to strike Liu Ling'er, a thunderous sound erupted from outside the hall.

***

Outside the hall, the sky was about to break; the eastern horizon was filled with rays of dawn.

"Bang!"

Er Leng's body slammed into the upper part of the main hall, shattering the plaque and punching through the wooden beams before falling to the ground like a corpse.

This was the result of him taking the full force of Old Daoist Xu’s second palm strike. His chest was caved in, and blood sprayed from his mouth and nose.

Countless wood splinters rained down on Er Leng's body. He felt as if he had gone deaf; his vision was nothing but a blur of red, and his body twitched uncontrollably, but he lacked the strength to stand again.

Yet, his right hand was still groping the cold ground, as if trying to grasp his famous blade, Invitation to the Moon, once more...

The surrounding young eunuchs looked on with pity, but none dared to step forward to help, nor did any dare to block Old Daoist Xu and his men.

This world was cold; for some, being born a pawn meant that having a heart of compassion was the greatest kindness they could offer.

Old Daoist Xu glanced at Er Leng with a dull, vacant expression, stepped onto the high platform, and walked straight into the hall.

The battle at Jingxin Hall tonight was not due to Er Leng’s lack of skill, but because Old Daoist Xu’s methods were too insidious. Though he was an aide to the Emperor, he practiced the Southern Border’s art of corpse-raising—vicious and deadly. What Er Leng had fought was not Old Daoist Xu's true body, but rather a "force-body" corpse he had raised.

The original owner of this body had been a famous warrior in the Southern Border, possessing immense strength and martial prowess. After being refined by Old Daoist Xu, his appearance was altered, and he was fed the blood and medicinal pills of strong men daily to achieve such combat power.

The force-body relied on raw strength to break all techniques. Its body was like forged steel, acting as a divine weapon in close-quarters combat with the courage to stop a thousand men—the perfect counter to Er Leng’s extreme, speed-based blade.

Behind him, the officials and soldiers followed the force-body of Old Daoist Xu, preparing to enter the hall.

Wu Asi, the commander of the Secret Agent Camp, looked down at Er Leng with a dark gaze. He curled his lips in a sneer. "Do you understand Zhong Kuishan’s words now? Your master might not even survive this hurdle tonight. And you, this guard dog, still want to stop a chariot with your arms? Huh?!"

He drew his saber and poked the tip against Er Leng's shoulder. "I'm talking to you; why aren't you answering? Lift your head and tell me, who is the spineless dog now?!"

Blood trickled from his shoulder. Exhausted, Er Leng could not even lift his head. He replied in a weak, raspy voice, "If I am a... guard dog, then in the eyes of that dog Emperor, you lot aren't even dogs... just chamber pots to be discarded whenever he pleases."

"Ha?!" Wu Asi grinned hideously and slowly raised his steel blade, aiming for Er Leng's neck. "I hope you can be just as sharp-tongued in front of the King of Hell..."

"Bang!"

Suddenly, the tightly closed hall doors swung open.

Old Daoist Xu and the officials looked toward the sound and saw Ren Ye standing in the hall with a grim expression, followed by several palace maids and eunuchs, who were dragging the unconscious Liu Ling'er.

"Who came to protect the imperial carriage?" Ren Ye held the Sword of Pacifying the Kingdom, standing in the doorway, and pointed at the unconscious Liu Ling'er. "Who is the thief? Is it her?!"

The question rang out from the hall. The officials felt a hint of surprise, but there was no fear in their eyes as they looked at Ren Ye.

However, the force-body of Old Daoist Xu, standing at the very front, felt his pupils contract sharply. He sensed a thick, eerie aura radiating from Ren Ye, which made him feel deeply uncomfortable...

"I'm asking you people: is she the thief?" Ren Ye stepped back, grabbed Liu Ling'er's hair with his right hand, and shook her head violently. "Is it her, huh?!"

Silence. The soldiers and officials outside the hall all looked toward Old Daoist Xu.

"You... you actually know the arts of Yin and Yang." Old Daoist Xu reverted to his vacant expression, his voice devoid of emotion.

Inside the hall, Liu Ling'er’s head had suffered a heavy blow, her face was bruised, and she was supported by Lian'er and the others; she had completely lost the ability to resist.

Ren Ye ignored Old Daoist Xu's question. He stepped out of the hall and turned to look at Er Leng, who was pinned beneath the broken plaque.

Er Leng was coughing blood, his hair disheveled; he lay on the ground, unable to move or lift his head.

"Your... Your Highness, I killed a commander of... who knows what rank... and some soldiers." Hearing Ren Ye’s voice, Er Leng spoke in broken gasps. "I killed them. It has nothing to do with you, Your Highness. Heh, this subordinate... hasn't seen much of the world... I am willing to go to the capital to stand trial, just to see what that dog-shit Emperor looks like...!"

Ren Ye stared at him, motionless, saying nothing.

A cold wind brushed his face. The experiences of the last few years—the two sets of memories, inside and outside the Star Gate—flashed through his mind like a slideshow, gradually merging...

I am Ren Ye. Before entering the Star Gate, I had served over three years in prison.

Perhaps in the eyes of the guards, the inmates, or even my family, I had a cheerful personality, even a bit cynical, fond of joking.

But in reality, for those three years, I had been lost and anxious.

I didn't know what I could do or what I should do once I got out. In the prime of my youth, I had been imprisoned. Sometimes I regretted it, but other times I felt that those seven shots *should* have been fired into the heads of those two suspects...

I held anger in my heart, feeling that what I did was right and that I shouldn't have ended up like this; I even harbored irrational resentment toward my former unit. But... my former unit did everything they could. They never treated me unfairly.

Perhaps the greatest pain in life is that no one was at fault, and yet, I was the one who suffered the worst outcome.

I had been repressed, even a bit angry.

I am Zhu Zigui. I am a waste.

Since my father the King died, I had become a bird in a gilded cage. For over three years, I had been terrified and restless, not knowing when the Butcher's Blade of my Uncle the Emperor would fall upon my neck.

I had no power to resist, nor did I know how to break the stalemate. Aside from playing with women and acting even more like a waste, what else could I possibly do?

Wang Jingzhong had killed himself by knocking his head against the Cunxin Hall, and now even Er Leng was lying here...

In the hall, those who were willing to follow me, to help me—they must be trembling with fear right now. They are afraid of death; I know.

I am truly repressed, but I am even more furious!

***

Outside the Jingxin Hall, Ren Ye stood like a statue. As the two sets of memories merged in his mind, the negative emotions he had suppressed for so long erupted like a tidal wave, rushing straight to his head.

He looked at the fallen Er Leng, as if he were seeing Li Xiaoyang, who had died abroad.

But this time, he had to save the man willing to die for him, regardless of whether he was a human or a gate-spirit with an obsession...

"Swish!"

Turning his head, Ren Ye looked at Old Daoist Xu and asked in a calm voice, "Was it you who hurt Er Leng?"

Old Daoist Xu’s force-body, though a corpse with its three souls and seven spirits long dissipated, was now like a refined weapon, radiating a powerful pure-yang energy. "Bird in a cage, do not think that just because you know a bit of Yin-Yang arts..."

"Was it you?!" Ren Ye interrupted.

"And if it was?" Old Daoist Xu asked coldly in return. "There are too many blades out to kill you; how many times can you dodge? Hand over Liu Ling'er, and I will allow you to continue living as a playboy, a waste of a Prince, until your death."

"As long as it was you, that's enough." Ren Ye closed his eyes and whispered, "I just learned a set of soul-summoning arts today; I wonder if it can kill you..."

In this moment, after three days of entry, the fear, anxiety, and restlessness that had accumulated in his heart vanished instantly. All that remained was a mind as still as a calm lake.

In life, there is no turning back!

Cornered to the brink, gamble your life—don't ask for the result!

With his eyes closed, the people before him vanished; listening with his ears, the surroundings were filled with the wailing wind.

The massive Jingxin Hall seemed to be empty, save for himself.

Ren Ye spread his arms, not even looking at Old Daoist Xu, and softly recited the incantation: "Within a hundred fathoms, all wandering ghosts and spirits, obey my command! From the Heavenly Yin to the Underworld, all obey my heart!"

As the incantation was chanted, the sky instantly became overcast with dark clouds, and every palace lantern in the entire Prince Huai's estate extinguished at once.

"Wooo...!"

A ghostly wind swirled, and everyone heard the murmuring of ghosts echoing all around.

"Boom!"

A hazy phantom of a female Daoist shot into the sky, towering over ten fathoms high. She sat cross-legged above the Jingxin Hall, like a deity descending, her eyes fixed on the dark clouds.

This sight shocked every official and soldier present.

The Prefect of Qingliang, the Chief Clerk Li Yan, and Wu Asi of the Secret Agent Camp all retreated several steps in terror, fleeing from the high platform.

Old Daoist Xu’s pupils contracted, his heart trembling violently. His face wrinkled under the force of the ghostly wind, and he stared at Ren Ye in disbelief. "That woman actually taught you the Soul-Gathering Art?!"

The force-body possessed the courage to stop a thousand men in close combat, but it feared Yin energy and soul-based arts...

"Swish!"

Old Daoist Xu did not hesitate to leap into the air, choosing to flee with absolute decisiveness.

Ren Ye suddenly opened his eyes and pressed his palms together. "This disciple is willing to sacrifice his lifespan to open the gates of Fengdu!!!"

"Wooo...!"

A gale of wind raged across the sky. Beyond the high walls, within a hundred fathoms, wandering ghosts—men, women, old, young, children, and teenagers—all gathered.

"Whoosh, whoosh...!"

The hundred ghosts moved through the break of dawn like fish crossing a river. In an instant, they sealed off Old Daoist Xu's retreat in mid-air, pressing down like a giant umbrella of darkness.

"Ah!!!"

A miserable wail echoed. Old Daoist Xu’s force-body was pressed down and entangled by countless wandering ghosts, erupting in agonizing screams.

"Whoosh, whoosh...!"

He crashed heavily to the ground, shattering the bluestone, his body rolling and struggling, only to have his life-force drained frantically by the dense mass of vengeful spirits.

In just a moment, his force-body withered rapidly, lying on the ground like a piece of paper, his bones shattered...

The Jingxin Hall fell into complete silence. The hundred ghosts wandered, collectively turning their heads to look at the officials.

Ren Ye stood atop the hall, his body straight, facing the officials, and shouted, "Who will tell me, where is the blade that comes to kill me now?!!!"