Chapter Two: A Monumental Conspiracy

Observing the bizarre old man opposite him, Wan Yi could not help but knit his brows. It had been half a year since he transmigrated to this world; although his cultivation had made little progress, his experience had grown significantly.

To understand this world as quickly as possible, he had pored over countless books, ranging from historical records to folk legends and strange tales, covering everything imaginable. He recalled a specific text that detailed the act of "possession," and the situation before him bore a striking resemblance to those accounts.

However, since he was currently within his own sea of consciousness, any thought he harbored would echo in the surrounding space, making it perfectly clear to the other party. Gritting his teeth, he decided to get straight to the point.

"Old man, don't try to trick me. Don't think I don't know what kind of scheme you're cooking up. Let me tell you, it won't be that easy to possess me!"

The old man, who had been looking at him with great anticipation, suddenly wore an expression that could only be described as bizarre after hearing these words.

"Little child, I didn't expect you to be so vigilant. That's not a bad thing, though. The world of cultivation is a place where the strong eat the weak; one should always remain alert. But!"

The old man paused, a trace of weariness appearing in his eyes. He sighed softly, "I am merely a remnant soul formed from an obsession. Even if I wanted to possess you, I lack the strength to do so. You’ve thought too much into this!"

Hearing that the old man’s tone did not seem feigned, the heavy weight in Wan Yi’s heart lifted significantly. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke slowly, "I have seen many jade slips for passing on techniques, but this is my first time seeing one like yours. What exactly is going on?"

Hearing this, a look of confidence returned to the old man's face. He replied with a dismissive tone, "A joke! How could those mediocre techniques compare to the 'Emperor-Slaying Art' I created?"

Wan Yi raised an eyebrow, "Is it really that incredible?"

The old man said proudly, "Even more incredible than you can imagine!"

"Screw that, quit trying to fool me! If it were really that incredible, how did you end up being tossed into a latrine and soaked for countless years?"

"You, you, you, you...!" The old man was infuriated by Wan Yi’s words. His eyes widened, his chest heaved, and after pointing a finger at the boy and sputtering "you" several times, he forced himself to swallow the rest of his words.

After steadying his emotions, the old man said with a solemn expression, "Little child, after you awakened this remnant soul of mine, I do not have much time left. I have no energy to waste on verbal sparring. I will ask you only one thing: are you going to learn my technique or not?"

It would be a lie to say Wan Yi didn't want to learn, but the stranger's origins were unknown, and he had offered to teach him a technique right off the bat, leaving Wan Yi feeling uncertain.

His eyes darted around, and he chuckled, "Old senior, please don't be agitated; I was just joking with you earlier."

"If you are going to pass on your technique to me, then we can be considered to have the bond of master and disciple. But as of now, I don't even know your name. If I want to pay my respects to you in the future, I wouldn't even know what to write on your memorial tablet!"

The old man laughed heartily, pointing his finger at him, "You little fox, beating around the bush like that—isn't it just because you still don't trust me?"

"Very well, there is no need for you to fish for information. I will tell you about my life."

At this, a dreamy look appeared in the old man’s eyes, as if he were tracing his past through the river of time. His voice, low and hoarse, drifted out slowly: "My name is Su Jin, and my master was Qiu Daoming."

As soon as these two names were uttered, Wan Yi couldn't help but exclaim, "What did you say your master's name was?"

The old man said with immense pride, "My master was Qiu Daoming!"

Wan Yi was completely stunned, "Damn, the founding ancestor of the Vastness Sect? Does that mean you are a first-generation disciple of the Vastness Sect?"

The old man nodded, then, seeming to recall something, looked at Wan Yi and asked, "Little one, is this place still the site of the Vastness Sect?"

Wan Yi swallowed hard and managed a "Yes."

"Then which generation of disciple are you?"

Wan Yi did some quick mental math and said weakly, "I suppose I count as the one-hundred-and-seventy-second generation."

The old man looked somewhat helpless, "Either you are, or you aren't. What do you mean by 'suppose'?"

Wan Yi smiled sheepishly, "To tell you the truth, I am just a chore disciple who hauls waste. I don't really count as an official disciple of the Vastness Sect."

The old man did not care about Wan Yi's status as a waste-hauler and sighed, "The one-hundred-and-seventy-second generation... so much time has passed!"

"Never mind, our meeting is fated. My time is limited; I will pass the 'Emperor-Slaying Art' to you now!"

As his voice fell, the old man leaned forward, joining his two fingers together. Red light coiled around his fingertips as he tapped Wan Yi rapidly on the forehead and various acupoints across his body. Strange streams of energy poured into Wan Yi's body with every strike of the old man's fingers.

The old man's movements were incredibly fast. By the time Wan Yi reacted, the old man had finished and returned to his original position. However, the old man now looked listless, and his originally translucent soul form appeared even fainter, as if a gust of wind could scatter him at any moment.

Standing still, the old man smiled softly, "Little child, I have imprinted the cultivation method of the 'Emperor-Slaying Art' into your sea of consciousness. Once your spirit returns to your physical body, you will be able to sense it."

At this moment, all of Wan Yi's doubts had vanished. Looking at the remnant soul of the old man, who could dissipate at any time, he was filled with profound emotion. He stepped forward, knelt on the ground, and bowed his hands, saying, "Disciple Wan Yi, pays respects to my master!"

The old man stroked his beard and laughed, "Good, good, good! Being able to meet you in my final moments, Heaven has not treated me too poorly. Good disciple, I don't have much time left; keep me company for a while."

As he spoke, the old man reached out to help Wan Yi up. He continued, "Do you know why I created this 'Emperor-Slaying Art'?"

Wan Yi shook his head in confusion.

The old man sighed, "Alas! I suppose by now, some things have long since been wiped clean by those people."

While speaking, the old man began to count on his fingers. After a while, he nodded slightly, "Twenty-three thousand years have passed; I suppose some truths have already been buried in the river of history."

Seeing the old man speak this way, Wan Yi was filled with confusion and couldn't help but ask, "Master, what do you mean by that? Is there some conspiracy hidden behind the technique you created?"

The old man nodded with a grave expression, "You are quite sharp, little one. Behind the current world of cultivation, there is indeed a massive conspiracy hidden!"

Wan Yi’s expression changed. Just as he was about to ask if he would be dragged into a senseless calamity should he practice the "Emperor-Slaying Art," the old man’s next words left him stunned on the spot!

To be continued...