Within the soul banner, Tu Shanjun also fixed his gaze outward.

The thing outside was steeped in a thick aura of baleful qi.

Yet unlike wandering spirits or wild ghosts that dispersed freely, this thing had its presence tightly restrained.

Though concealed well, its qi was chaotic, and impure.

Were it not for Tu Shanjun’s heightened sensitivity to baleful energy, he likely wouldn’t have noticed it so swiftly.

Wen Yue held his breath, his entire focus locked on the doorway.

The air around him fell into a sudden silence.

He rose slowly.

Feeling the faint tremble of the soul banner in his arms, Wen Yue took it in his left hand and reached for the treasured sword hanging by the bed with his right.

With the soul banner in hand, Wen Yue no longer felt anxious.

His teacher’s strength far surpassed his own. Even if he were overpowered, he could call upon his teacher to intervene.

Only, the battle must be kept restrained to avoid drawing the attention of the other offering pavilion experts within Liang City.

It would be best to finish things quickly.

Besides, with his current physique, Wen Yue feared no mere ghosts or fiends.

He stepped slowly toward the door.

He could sense that the thing outside was separated from him by nothing but a single door.

Yet he heard no breathing, none at all. As if what stood there was nothing but a heavy plank of wood.

By all rights, no one should be in his courtyard at this hour. He had long ordered that his cultivation sessions not be disturbed.

Even Chu Jiu had been moved to an adjoining chamber so as not to interrupt his training.

The thing outside pressed closer. In the moonlight filtering through the window, a warped shadow appeared, hunched over against the door.

“Who stands there?”

Wen Yue barked sharply. The long sword in his hand unsheathed with a hiss and thrust forward.

The blade pierced the thick paper plastered over the door in an instant.

But it felt as if it had struck refined steel. The sword met resistance and the tip shattered cleanly.

“Not human.”

The thought flashed across Wen Yue’s mind.

He swung the broken blade in a sweeping arc.

The doorframe barring his path shattered instantly.

Outside, the figure had long, wild hair.

Its eyes brimmed with hatred, locked on Wen Yue with venomous intensity.

“Human?”

Despite the creature's humanoid form, Wen Yue didn’t halt his sword strike. Instead, he swung again.

Whoosh - the figure shifted three inches to the side, narrowly dodging the blade.

“You're not in the Organ-Refining Realm… You’re an Innate Grandmaster?”

The hoarse voice didn’t sound spoken, it rasped from deep within the throat, more like a beast’s shriek than a human’s words.

The wild-haired figure stared at Wen Yue. His fitted combat garments bulged unnaturally.

His exposed skin was pale as bone.

Greenish-black vein-like patterns, thick and serpentine, crawled along his flesh like worms.

His eyes were nothing like a normal person’s, black blood filled the whites, staining his entire eyeballs pitch black.

He grinned a grotesque, ghastly smile.

As his words fell, Wen Yue faced him, broken sword in hand.

He looked the man up and down calmly and asked, “If there is a grievance, give your name.”

“Heh!”

The man raised his hands, they were smooth, like white jade.

But the fingertips were overlaid with black, keratinized layers that extended into his nails, forming claws like ghost hands.

“So what if you’re an Innate Grandmaster? You don’t think that alone can stop me, do you?”

Mister Shen glanced coldly at the sword-wielding Wen Yue.

Then he studied his own hands with fervent eyes.

These hands, nurtured for so long, even an Innate Grandmaster would die beneath them.

Wen Yue wasn’t foolish enough to reveal that he was a Qi Refining cultivator.

The Turtle Spirit Breath-Holding Technique masked the aura of his spiritual energy, tricking the enemy into thinking he was a mere martial cultivator.

“Die!”

Mister Shen lunged with a wicked grin.

His figure flashed like a ghost, appearing in front of Wen Yue in an instant.

Buzz.

Feeling the soul banner tremble in his grasp, Wen Yue smiled in turn, calmly watching Shen approach.

Shen’s expression turned to one of suspicion. Could this boy have some hidden trump card?

Even at such close range, he remained composed, unafraid.

Not even slightly surprised.

He had fought Innate Grandmasters before, they had died under his ghost hands.

But this one… felt different.

No matter the boy’s hidden cards, if he was merely an Innate Grandmaster, then death awaited him.

“Cripple like you should’ve stayed in bed and waited to die. You never should have stood again!”

His voice dissipated with the wind as his clawed ghost hands lunged for Wen Yue’s heart.

Boom.

Something blocked him.

Mister Shen looked up in shock.

No, it wasn’t blocked.

A massive hand had grabbed his head.

And held him suspended midair.

The hand’s owner stood directly behind Wen Yue.

Over seven feet tall.

Face stern and cold.

A solemn, greenish visage, tusks hidden deep within the mouth.

Crimson ghostly eyes burned with dominance beneath wild red hair.

Tattered black robes couldn’t hide the towering, powerful build beneath. Corded muscles twisted around the bones like coiled dragons.

Dark, shadowed skin exuded an oppressive gloom.

Mister Shen felt himself tremble but upon closer inspection, it wasn’t he who trembled.

It was the thing he had raised, quaking in fear at the sight of this ghost.

“Run!”

That was the only thought that surfaced in Mister Shen’s mind.

He had to escape.

But the first thing he saw was Wen Yue’s cold, mocking smile.

This man wasn’t some Innate Grandmaster.

He was a cultivator.

A true cultivator so powerful that Mister Shen couldn’t even begin to gauge his level.

Desperate, Shen grasped at the massive, greenish ghost hand gripping his head, trying to pry it away.

But how could Tu Shanjun possibly give him that chance?

He hoisted Shen high.

And slammed a clenched right fist into his face.

Boom!

One blow.

That was all it took to leave Shen’s face bloodied and mangled. His arms hung limp at his sides like broken branches.

His face swelled grotesquely. Blood poured freely.

Mister Shen fell into despair. His swollen eyelids allowed him only a sliver of sight.

Through it, he saw the face of the ghost that struck him.

Too strong.

No chance to fight back.

Fierce resolve filled his heart, he bit down on his tongue, swallowing a mouthful of blood.

With that surge of crimson, his arms rapidly healed, and even the wounds on his body began to mend.

“Hmm!”

Tu Shanjun let out a soft murmur, eyes narrowing at Shen’s ghost hands.

This time, he didn’t strike with brute force.

Instead, he reached out and ripped the jade-like hands from Shen’s wrists.

The hands instantly withered, turning dark and shriveled like dried-out bark.

Two ghost hands now lay still in Tu Shanjun’s grasp.

Mister Shen’s real hands were unscathed. The black veins running across his body quickly faded.

Just as Tu Shanjun had guessed.

His strength came from those ghost hands.

Without them, he was at most a practitioner of the Organ-Refining Realm.

Tu Shanjun looked to Wen Yue.

Wen Yue shook his head slightly. “Teacher, don’t kill him yet. Let me find out who sent him.”

Tu Shanjun released his grip. Mister Shen collapsed like mud to the floor.

He didn’t dare linger.

Scrambling to his feet, he gasped, “I’ll tell you!”

“It was Grand Eunuch Zheng Zhong of the Internal Rectitude Office who sent me to kill you!”

“It was him.”

Wen Yue wasn’t surprised. Only mildly curious that Zheng Zhong had found someone this strange.

Clearly a practitioner of dark and heterodox methods but more than enough to deal with an Innate Grandmaster.

Seeing Wen Yue’s expression remain unchanged, Shen hurried to sell himself.

“I’m useful. I can kill for you. Handle the dirty work. Even an Innate Grandmaster isn’t my match.”

“I’m very useful.”

Wen Yue pondered for a moment. He did need manpower.

But this man’s origins were unclear, and he had no means of keeping him in check.

Without the ghost hands, his strength was limited.

But if he returned them and Shen fled, what then?

Moreover, the man had learned Wen Yue’s identity as a Qi Refining cultivator and had seen teacher within the soul banner.

Wen Yue gave Tu Shanjun a barely perceptible shake of his head.

Just as Shen prepared to make a desperate move, a ghostly hand descended and crushed his skull in a single strike.

Tu Shanjun pulled out the man’s soul and cast it into the soul banner.

Even if Wen Yue had asked to spare him, Tu Shanjun would’ve killed him anyway.

Keeping an unknown danger nearby was far too risky.

And since the man’s power came from the ghost hands, Tu Shanjun could extract the skill seed and pass it on, eventually cultivating a new expert of equal strength.

The soul banner trembled. Spiritual energy corroded.

Mister Shen’s corpse rotted swiftly. His blood and baleful aura were completely drained.

His bones crumbled to dust, scattering across the ground.

(Chapter End)