Chapter 144: Hunter and Prey

Amidst towering mountain ranges, Ye Mingke had the small wax figure Lingchen standing on his shoulder as he dashed forward like a flash of lightning, heading toward the direction of the rogue cultivator he had sensed.

"My Lord, are you certain you truly do not need me to evaluate your sword control technique? That rogue cultivator's sword control is also an ancient and renowned art; ordinary sword control might find it rather difficult to catch up to him, no?" Lingchen reached out to grab the collar of the lightning-fast Ye Mingke, his self-molded handsome face blown completely out of shape, his voice distorted as he spoke.

"Do not be afraid, my Lord is a monster, not someone an ordinary person can compare to. Using the sword control I created, catching up to that rogue cultivator is a piece of cake." Ye Mingke smiled with a cocky air, his eyes bright as he looked straight ahead, his running momentum not slowing for even a fraction of a second.

"Then why did you only secretly test it once yourself, My Lord, and not let your humble servant witness it as well? And why are we not using your newly learned sword control technique to travel?"

Unable to bear having his handsome facial features disheveled by the high-speed wind any longer, Lingchen flipped over and burrowed directly into Ye Mingke's collar, exposing only two tiny eyes. Even as he spoke, those two eyes were nearly blown sideways, prompting him to frantically press his left eye—which was drifting off to the right—back into place with a pat of his hand.

"Heh, as for that?" Hearing Lingchen's question, Ye Mingke wore an awkward smile as if recalling something unpleasant, before suddenly turning hostile and snapping, "Mind your own business! Is a mere underling like you permitted to talk back to your Lord?"

"Hmph." Believing Ye Mingke could not see him, Lingchen rolled his other eye—which was on the verge of being blown back to the nape of his neck—upward in silent disdain. Daring not to argue aloud, he let out a soundless chuckle and shrank further back into Ye Mingke's collar.

He still refused to believe that anyone could conjure a brand-new sword control technique from scratch within a few days without following the established Dao.

Layer upon layer of green forests rushed past like surging ocean waves. For the first time without the aid of a flying sword, Ye Mingke traveled at full speed, covering a thousand miles of mountains and rivers in a single day as he headed toward a small market town nestled in the mountain range ahead. The speed at which he traversed the land was actually no less inferior to the flying sword travel of ordinary immortals.

Yet, in places unknown to him, countless mortals looked up that day to see distant, boundless skies streaked with daytime shooting stars, vaguely converging toward the exact same direction.

As dusk fell that day, Ye Mingke climbed the final peak, gazing out over the valley below amidst molten golden twilight, where he spotted the small market town half-bathed in rosy clouds and half-shrouded in mountain shadows.

Even though his body had become immensely powerful after undergoing multiple transformations, pushing himself at full tilt for an entire day still left him feeling somewhat exhausted.

Night had not yet fully fallen, making it unfavorable for stealthy assassination. Ye Mingke seated himself on the mountaintop, concealing his silhouette among the trees, and began to regulate his breathing slowly as he watched the ancient market town below, where the hubbub of human voices gradually faded into the approaching twilight.

"Are you certain he is down below?" Sensing Lingchen burrowing out from his collar once more, Ye Mingke asked indifferently without turning his head.

"My Lord, that scoundrel is right down there." Looking down at the small town—which had been a thousand miles away at dawn but was now right beneath their feet by evening—Lingchen grew even more flattering and respectful toward Ye Mingke.

"That fellow certainly knows how to run. Just a few days apart, and he's slipped this far away, hiding amidst a small mortal market town where travelers come and go and few people settle down permanently. If not for you, flushing him out truly would have been quite difficult."

After resting for a moment, Ye Mingke exhaled a long, turbid breath. The turbulent qi surging within his body slowly calmed down.

"My Lord, when shall we make our move? As for your sword control technique..." Lingchen brought up the sword control technique once more, torn between curiosity and disbelief, and chuckled.

"My sword control has no flaws whatsoever," Ye Mingke said with a straight face, uttering the words with absolute finality. "Well... it's just that there are still somewhat too many people about at present. Once the night grows deep, we shall strike in one fell swoop and haul in our catch!"

Lingchen poked his head out and examined Ye Mingke's stern and composed expression, inexplicably detecting a faint trace of awkwardness and a guilty conscience hidden beneath that face.

He ducked back behind Ye Mingke's neck and let out another silent chuckle. Creating a sword control technique in two days? Not even a ghost would believe that.

However, if this brat didn't know sword control, how on earth did he plan to capture a flying spirit cultivator hell-bent on escape?

Lingchen remained half-curious, half-skeptical.

Thinking Ye Mingke could not see his expression from behind his neck, Lingchen remained unaware that with his Spiritual Eyes activated, Ye Mingke could see everything clearly as long as he was positioned on his back. Ye Mingke's mouth twitched, and he barely suppressed the urge to slap the insolent wretch on the back of his neck into a lump of wax.

"Forget it, exposing the existence of the Spiritual Eyes right now and letting that scoundrel be on his guard is not worth it. I'll just wait until a moment later when Your Lordship unleashes my heaven-shaking, ghost-frightening exclusive sword control technique, scaring that scoundrel so badly his eyes pop out."

***

Ye Mingke maintained an elegant and serene smile on the outside, while muttering inwardly like a grievance-filled housewife.

Yet, recalling his absolute "exclusive" sword control technique, his smile faltered somewhat.

"Although, perhaps, eighty percent likely, should be, roughly, probably, it'll be fine..."

Amidst Lingchen's silent smile, he found himself staring at the setting sunset, suddenly doubting his entire existence.

The twilight shifted from rich, vibrant gold to a dusky purple, before being swallowed entirely by darkness, replaced by the symphony of countless overlapping insect chirps and frog croaks echoing through the mountain forest.

Ye Mingke sat motionless beneath the trees at the peak, his aura growing increasingly restrained, resembling the dim, weathered old longsword resting across his knees—Jingji.

He kept his gaze fixed ahead as the moonlight gradually filled his vision and the moon rose over the ridge.

Most of the lights in the market town below had gone out, with only a few lanterns still flickering.

Ye Mingke shouldered his sword, rose to his feet, and descended the mountain beneath the moonlight.

The moonlight was gentle; truly, it was a fine time for killing.

Once, he had been hunted across thousands of miles by immortals, but this time, the role of the hunter finally fell to him.

Treading upon the mottled shadows of the trees under the forest moonlight, he walked step by step into the market town. Moving through the pitch-black alleys, he headed toward a single remaining light source.

He had already questioned Lingchen to confirm the man's exact location. As for Lingchen himself, he had been stuffed back into the sword case; Ye Mingke had no desire to divide his focus during combat while keeping watch over a treacherous, enslaved captive.

The ancient alleyways were silent and empty.

Whether because this was his first time assassinating someone from the shadows, as he walked through this quiet and peaceful little town, he inexplicably felt a faint sense of unease. Was the echo in these silent alleys simply too loud?

Ye Mingke tightened his grip on Jingji and closed his eyes. At the same instant, his Spiritual Eyes expanded outward to their maximum range. Having been honed and transformed through repeated brushes with life and death, his spiritual perception could now encompass a radius of fifty zhang, projecting distinct human figures clearly into his mind within that fifty-zhang circle.

He was no longer far from his target; his spiritual awareness already enveloped the objective. Slowly raising his head, he looked toward the inn where his target resided—a building adorned with strings of red lanterns, draped in a hazy, dim glow.

It was the only bustling place left in the small town. As the sole inn of the settlement, it clearly functioned as both a tavern and a brothel.

"Brothels seem to operate all night long," Ye Mingke frowned. It was precisely because he had considered this factor that he had not waited on the mountain outside until this inn also extinguished its lights.

"I have truly never set foot in a brothel before; no wonder I feel somewhat nervous." Ye Mingke rubbed the goosebumps rising on his arm, steadied his breathing, smiled ruefully at himself, and walked toward the inn once more.

Indeed, there was nothing to be nervous about. That rogue cultivator, standing out among a crowd of mortals like a flame in the dark night, was right upstairs, while everyone else nearby was merely an ordinary mortal without any cultivation.

The only thing he needed to worry about was protecting the mortals inside the building from collateral damage when he struck.

The target was upstairs. According to the plan, he needed to get as close as possible to maximize the advantages of his physical constitution and martial arts cultivation, so Ye Mingke walked straight toward the entrance of the inn.

The doorway of the inn was illuminated by red lanterns in a brilliant, crimson glow, resembling pooled human blood, Ye Mingke thought inexplicably.

What on earth was this? Had his mind become twisted? A brothel! This was a brothel, the classic setting for countless romantic tales in folklore! Why wasn't his heart filled with amorous feelings, but rather thoughts of human blood?

Ye Mingke broke out in mental cold sweat.

Crossing the threshold, the surging clamor within the inn washed over him instantly. The warm yellow lights inside flickered dimly as numerous people sat scattered about, clinking cups and exchanging toasts in a lively, bustling commotion. Scarcely anyone noticed Ye Mingke's quiet entry.

Two busy waiters bustling about delivering tea and wine immediately spotted the new guest. Both headed in his direction simultaneously, and one of them called out with a smile from several people away.

"Sir, are you here for a meal or lodging?"

Having never frequented such places before, Ye Mingke did not know how to respond. He simply shook his head slightly and walked straight toward the staircase leading to the second floor.

Leaning against the foot of the stairs was a haggard-looking woman dressed in luxurious yet revealing attire. Seeing a fair-skinned young scholar like Ye Mingke approach, she gave a coy smile and suddenly swayed forward, tipping precisely into his embrace.

Ye Mingke, who had been advancing with a steady stride, suddenly retreated a step with an equally steady stride.

With a loud thud, the woman crashed straight onto the floor, face first.

Her coquettish laughter cut off instantly. After a long pause, she slowly raised her head with a resentful expression, only to see the crouching Ye Mingke smiling gently down at her.

"Elder sister, my apologies. My reflexes happen to be quite strong; the moment I saw you deliberately hurl yourself into my arms, I subconsciously dodged." Ye Mingke said with an apologetic smile.

"Little brother, you are truly wicked and devoid of romance."

The haggard woman shot him a reproachful glare, extended a hand as white as tender jade, and chuckled coquettishly.

"Then hurry and help your sister up."

Ye Mingke was just about to reach out when the two waiters who had been walking toward him arrived at his side. The one who had called out earlier quickened his pace and spoke with hearty, warm enthusiasm.

"So fast, sir, you've already made your move! It seems you are neither here for a meal nor lodging, but rather for a foot wash! Here, let me help you with your luggage."

That waiter reached out toward Ye Mingke's bundle, while the pale-jade hand extended by the haggard woman was about to grasp Ye Mingke's wrists, and the other waiter, who had lagged a step behind, arrived right at Ye Mingke's back.

Ye Mingke was suddenly struck by an alert alarm. A bone-chilling murderous intent caused the hairs all over his body to stand on end. He transformed his hand—which was reaching toward the woman—into a blocking posture, while twisting his body to retreat, but it was already too late.

Within the field of vision of Ye Mingke's Spiritual Eyes, three blazing suns suddenly plummeted downward.

The tender, jade-like hand extended by the haggard woman before him abruptly transformed into bare white bones, already brushing against his garment. Meanwhile, the smiling, bowing waiter beside him had a hand that at some point now concealed a long thorn dripping with faint, chilling thunder, pointing straight between his brows.

Behind him, the other waiter crouched, reversing his grip on a sword as he pressed close against Ye Mingke's back.

Yet Ye Mingke was too late to even deploy his Fiery Armor or draw his longsword. The killing intent from front, back, left, and right had already arrived.