Chapter 46: A Small Scheme, the Talisman of the War Horse

The limp corpse, like a piece of tattered cloth, was hurled viciously by the centipede demon’s two long arms.

“Junior Sister!”

At the moment the body flew at him, the senior brother gritted his teeth and sidestepped, allowing the corpse to be thrown instead to the staircase behind him.

“Huang Junior Sister…”

“You still have time to worry about others?”

Ji Ming gathered a gust of sinister wind and blew it fiercely. The blast made the senior brother’s eyes dry and itchy, forcing him to blink rapidly to moisten them, all the while retreating several steps with vigilant caution.

Once he steadied himself, the senior brother pointed his sword at the altar table and shouted, “You all, return at once!”

But Ji Ming’s attention was not on the senior brother; it was fixed on the corpse that had fallen down the stairs. Inside it was his own Bone-Accumulating Pearl; as long as—

“Senior Sister!”

The robust, thick-browed Daoist nun held a needle in her hand, her lips pressed tightly together as she watched the corpse tumble down the wooden steps. With difficulty, she turned her head, listening intently to the commotion upstairs.

Her mastery of movement and secret techniques lagged far behind the senior brother’s, not to mention her swordsmanship. Fortunately, she excelled at locating by sound—a skill honed from years of escorting and intercepting darts.

“So cautious!”

Ji Ming’s antennae waved wildly, using the vibrations to pinpoint the nun’s position downstairs. If she came just a little closer to the corpse, his Bone-Accumulating Pearl could be shot out from the body in an instant, catching her completely off guard.

But she was even more careful than he’d anticipated.

Ji Ming began to move toward the staircase, inching closer. Below, the thick-browed nun, needle at the ready, was also creeping forward step by step.

The senior brother, standing before the altar table, noticed Ji Ming’s approach and seemed to realize something. He called down in alarm, “Beware the corpse!”

Downstairs, the thick-browed nun glanced at the body at her feet. On the once-beautiful face of her senior sister, a section of flesh suddenly bulged. A small, greenish pearl burst through the skin, shooting straight at her.

The distance was less than two meters. The thick-browed nun felt a chill race up her spine, making her shudder all over. Her mind went blank; instinct alone made her raise her hand and catch the flying bead.

“How close!”

In just a few seconds, she was drenched as if plucked from water, stray strands of hair soaked at her brow.

“Fortunately, I wasn’t struck by that demon’s trick…”

Suddenly, she flipped her hand over—her palm was empty except for a smear of blood. Her pupils shrank in shock. “Where… where’s the bead?”

Hearing the thud of a body falling downstairs, Ji Ming rejoiced inwardly—one more opponent eliminated.

Nonetheless, he didn’t dare relax, fixing his gaze on the senior brother before the altar, who was already summoning back his three little ghosts.

Through this battle, Ji Ming had come to recognize his own shortcomings. His defense was sufficient, but his offense was lacking; he excelled at assassination, but was weak in direct confrontation. Whenever he faced someone nimble and experienced like this, he felt a suffocating sense of helplessness.

Truly, being strong in only one aspect was not enough; to dominate, one must be strong in all.

The wailing of specters outside drew closer and closer. Ji Ming glanced at the senior brother, a plan already forming in his mind.

He leapt downstairs, pounced on the thick-browed nun’s body, and quickly rifled through her belongings, grumbling to himself, “So poor—not even a single storage pouch.”

After stowing away the Bone-Accumulating Pearl, he darted out of the Watchfire Tower, vanishing into the boundless night.

Outside the tower, the three ghosts returned and circled protectively around the senior brother, who now stood before the altar table as if facing a mortal enemy, permitting not even a mosquito to flit before his eyes. Any small insect that flew by was slaughtered by the three ghosts, mistaken for the centipede demon.

“This place is no longer safe.”

The senior brother realized this clearly, quickly pulled up his trouser leg, and checked the two talisman seals stuck to the back of his calf—his secret for maintaining his agility.

“There’s still time for about one more quarter of an hour.”

The Horse Armor Talismans were meant for travel, allowing one to cover hundreds of miles in a single day; using them in battle was a desperate measure.

He scooped the three spirit tablets from the altar and sprang down from the tower.

What was Ji Ming up to?

He had already flown back to the well, retrieved his poison seed pouch, and whipped up a gale, sweeping all the mosquitoes from above and below the well into the bag.

“Let’s go!”

Satisfied with his haul, Ji Ming hurried back, tossed the pouch onto the grass before the fallen tower, and then shrank himself to slip inside the bag.

The senior brother had just left the Watchfire Tower when he saw a small pouch lying on the grass in front of the building and immediately halted. The pouch was fuzzy, resembling the abdomen of a spider with its legs plucked—a standard-issue poison seed bag for disciples of the Panhu Sect.

“So the centipede-cultivating Panhu cultivator has finally made his move against me!” he thought to himself.

“Advance!”

He directed the three ghosts to approach and probe the poison seed bag.

With a “whoosh,” a black wind burst forth from the pouch, unleashing a swarm of mosquitoes that bypassed the three ghosts and swarmed straight at the senior brother.

“Retreat! All of you, retreat!”

Beset by the mosquito horde, the senior brother flailed his peachwood sword wildly, then resorted to covering all exposed skin, calling for the three ghosts to protect him.

Ji Ming, hidden among the swarm and shrouded by the sinister wind, landed directly atop his head and spat out a small bead. The bead, sesame-sized as it left his mouth, grew to the size of a peanut as it fell onto the senior brother’s head—perfectly adaptable, just as he willed it.

Sensing a strange sensation on his scalp, the senior brother dropped his sword in terror and slapped frantically at his head. Suddenly, his expression froze, his movements halted, and he collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

The three ghosts circled the corpse, swathes of mosquitoes dropping dead by the dozens.

Ji Ming, standing aside, dispelled his transformation spell; his mouthparts opened, and the Bone-Accumulating Pearl from the corpse flew straight into his mouth.

The three ghosts continued to hover near the body, making it unwise for Ji Ming to approach. But he was in no hurry. Once dawn broke and the sun’s energy returned, the ghosts would naturally be drawn back into their spirit tablets.

When the eastern sky showed the first pale gleam of dawn, sure enough, the restless ghosts could stand it no longer and each flowed back into their respective tablets.

Ji Ming eagerly reached out and snatched the storage pouch from the corpse.

“After all, these were disciples of the Taiping Mountain sub-division. Three Daoists with only one storage pouch—how disgraceful,” Ji Ming muttered.

He opened the pouch and sent his consciousness sweeping through it.

“Where are my jewels?”

The pouch contained only a single compartment.

Inside were two sets of Daoist robes, a string of sandalwood prayer beads, three barbed leaves, five talisman papers, and three Daoist texts—but not a single gemstone.

“They must be hidden nearby.”

Ji Ming’s gaze fell on the three wooden spirit tablets.

Those three little ghosts who carried the treasures must know where the valuables were stashed, but he could not summon or command them.

There was only one thing for it: to use his antennae to detect lingering scents in the air. The hiding place must be one where the ghosts had spent the most time—their scent would still linger there.

Starting from the Watchfire Tower, Ji Ming searched inch by inch, tracking the scent—a task that grew riskier the longer it took.

At last, in a stable within the village, he found… eighteen chests of treasure.

Clearly, these three Daoists, hiding atop the Watchfire Tower, had plundered more than just the wealth of one household.

Now came the arduous task of moving the chests out, a massive undertaking for Ji Ming that could be managed only under the cover of darkness.

Since forging his Bone-Accumulating Pearl, refining his Treasure Eye had become his top priority—a crucial step for all his future plans.