Chapter Fifteen: Cleverly Capturing Wang Meng

Before long, the two arrived at the mouth of a cave, black as ink. Ge Qian turned to Wang Meng, gesturing with an inviting hand, “Senior brother, after you?” Wang Meng peered inside, unable to make out anything in the pitch darkness. Looking around the entrance, he noticed thick vines hanging from above. An indescribable sense of danger gnawed at his heart, though he couldn’t pinpoint the source. This area near the Demon-Sealing Cave was truly ominous—he swore to himself never to set foot in a place like this again.

He didn’t want to go in, but considering that Ge Qian was only a first-level Qi Absorption cultivator—practically a useless novice—there was no way he could play any tricks. If he let someone like that look down on him, he might as well bash his own head in. Steeling himself, Wang Meng strode into the cave, head held high.

Wang Meng’s large, bulky frame made it hard to squeeze inside; even turning around was a struggle. Ge Qian followed right behind. In the pitch-black tunnel, Wang Meng felt a stifling pressure growing in his chest. He performed a spell, chanting under his breath, and a thumb-sized flame flickered to life on his fingertip, illuminating the cave for several yards as if it were broad daylight.

Suddenly, Ge Qian spoke up, “Senior brother, what a marvelous spell. Tell me, how many spirit stones do you think this two-hundred-year-old spiritual herb is worth?”

Wang Meng’s heart leapt with joy, thinking he’d struck it rich. Unable to turn his body, he twisted his head and said, “Bring it here, let me see.”

Ge Qian produced a bamboo tube, smiling as he said, “This is the Thousand-Leaf Grass. I don’t know its exact use, but Elder Cui specifically instructed me to keep a close eye on it.”

Hearing this only stoked Wang Meng’s curiosity. He had never seen a three-hundred-year-old spiritual herb before. As he leaned in, Ge Qian suddenly waved the bamboo tube, releasing a cloud of powder that instantly covered Wang Meng’s face and body. His eyes burned and stung, and flames a foot tall exploded across his face.

A moment later, something stabbed viciously into his back, followed by a tremendous force that sent him flying. Wang Meng crashed to the ground, enduring the agony as he desperately slapped out the fire on his face. His sight was gone, his eyes destroyed—he could only extend his spiritual sense outward.

Rage boiled inside him; he wished he could skin Ge Qian alive. Never would he have imagined that a useless first-level Qi Absorption nobody would dare ambush him. If not for the silk armor he wore beneath his robes, he’d already be dead. Fuming, he formed a spell and summoned his flying sword, which stretched to seven feet in length.

But after that blow, Ge Qian was nowhere to be seen. Wang Meng realized that if a fourth-level Qi Absorption cultivator survived such an attack, he was no longer someone Wang Meng could handle. His only option was to escape and wait for the poison to take effect before going after him.

He climbed to his feet, pointing his finger to send the flying sword ahead as a vanguard, cursing, “You bastard, let’s see if you can outrun my sword! Once I catch you, I’ll carve you up piece by piece!”

The cave was too narrow for him to use the Wind Riding Spell, so he could only quicken his steps. Just as he emerged from the mouth, a thunderous crash sounded overhead—a massive boulder, weighing thousands of pounds, plummeted from above.

Sensing the murderous wind, Wang Meng hurriedly slapped a Vajra Talisman onto himself, sat cross-legged, and channeled his spiritual power. A golden light surged up, forming a protective shell around him.

Boulders rained down, hammering the golden shell, denting it in and out, but each was deflected away. As the final stone fell, Wang Meng’s body went numb and limp—he could summon no power at all. “Not good, I’ve been poisoned,” he thought.

At that moment, the golden shield of the Vajra Talisman shattered into pieces. Drugged and helpless, Wang Meng collapsed. The last boulder crashed down on his foot, mangling it into pulp. With a heart-wrenching scream, Wang Meng passed out.

Ge Qian leapt down from the top of the cave, wiping cold sweat from his brow. Right after escaping, he had scrambled onto the cave’s roof; just as Wang Meng came out cursing, Ge Qian had sliced through the rope with a beast’s tooth, sending the huge stones crashing down. He hadn’t expected Wang Meng to have a Vajra Talisman, but the poison did its work in the end.

Though everything remained under Ge Qian’s control, it had been a perilous gamble. He hadn’t expected Wang Meng to be so well-protected—armor impenetrable even to a pangolin’s teeth. Surely he had some powerful treasure as a shield. In the end, only the poison could break through the Vajra Talisman’s protection.

Ge Qian tore open Wang Meng’s outer garment, revealing a soft white armor woven of silk thread, just as he’d guessed. He kicked aside the boulder, hefted the unconscious Wang Meng, and dragged him back into the cave, tossing him to the ground.

He collected Wang Meng’s storage pouch and flying sword, then examined a palm-sized talisman covered in golden patterns, which pulsed with a faint spiritual pressure—his curiosity was piqued. This was the legendary spirit talisman: it could seal a spell within, requiring only spiritual power to activate, no incantations or hand signs, greatly reducing casting time. Low-grade talismans weren’t very powerful, and high-grade ones often failed, plus they were single-use. This Vajra Talisman had lost much of its spiritual pressure and was nearly spent, but for someone as broke as Ge Qian, it was a treasure he wouldn’t part with. Delighted, he tucked it away.

He then stripped Wang Meng of his silk armor and donned it himself in a few swift moves.

After finishing his work, Ge Qian took a sip of water and splashed the remainder onto Wang Meng’s ruined face. With a flick of the beast’s tooth, he stabbed Wang Meng’s spiritual core, jolting him awake with a scream. The pain in his core was unbearable; glancing down nearly made him faint again.

For a cultivator, the spiritual core was life itself—once destroyed, the path of cultivation was forever closed. For Wang Meng, who had once aspired to immortality, this was a fate worse than death.

Ge Qian kicked him awake again and said, “Wang Meng, you never thought this day would come, did you? How do you want to die?”

Gritting his teeth, Wang Meng snarled, “Ge Qian, you despicable wretch! I treated you well, showed you a path to wealth, and you betray me for my treasures?”

“Save your lies. I know exactly what you are. Don’t take me for a fool. You wanted to pull me into your scheme and then silence me, didn’t you? Am I right?” Ge Qian smiled coldly.

Wang Meng glared back, “If you want to frame someone, you’ll always find an excuse!”

With that, Ge Qian slammed his foot down on Wang Meng’s groin, grinding viciously. Wang Meng howled in agony.

Ge Qian said, “You still don’t see the situation you’re in. If you don’t tell the truth, I’ll stomp you into the ground. If you answer honestly, perhaps I’ll spare your life.”

Wang Meng felt his manhood half ruined. Not only could he no longer cultivate immortality—he probably couldn’t share a bed with anyone again. He’d survived countless storms, only to be undone by carelessness and an ambush in this forsaken place. Ge Qian, though a nobody, was ruthless, cunning, and precise. Wang Meng knew he’d have to swallow his pride and cooperate. If Ge Qian spared him, he’d report everything to Senior Brother Lü Xin and have his revenge.

He said, “Junior brother Ge, please have mercy. I’ll tell you everything—only spare my life. But you must swear an oath to the Heart Demon.”

“Very well. I, Ge Qian, swear by my Heart Demon: as long as your answers satisfy me, I’ll let you live. If I break my word, may Heaven and Earth destroy me!” Ge Qian lifted his hands to the sky.

Only then did Wang Meng relax. Among cultivators, oaths to the Heart Demon were the most binding; it was said such vows always came true, so to swear one was to seal one’s fate.

Biting back the pain, Wang Meng said, “Junior brother, could you please move your foot?”

Ge Qian finally lifted his foot, forcing a sheepish smile.