Chapter 057: Soul Manipulation Technique

Liu Dahua exclaimed in astonishment, “Brother Zhao, ten million! I can’t even imagine it. Who would dare to offer ten million?”
“You must know, even Young Master Xiang’s father’s entire fortune is just about ten million!”
Zhao Feng narrowed his eyes slightly and nodded. “Alright, I understand.”
Liu Dahua blinked. “Brother Zhao, aren’t you surprised at all?”
Zhao Feng shook his head. “No, I’m not surprised. If they hadn’t asked for money, now that would have surprised me. But since they did, I’m not surprised at all.”
What Zhao Feng didn’t say aloud was that if Xiang Tao hadn’t demanded money, then it was very likely he knew the secret of the medicine cauldron. But now…
Zhao Feng was no longer worried.
Liu Dahua looked at Zhao Feng nervously. “Brother Zhao, can you see me now?”
Zhao Feng stroked his chin, pretending to waver. In fact, it was all for show.
Rolling his eyes as if weighing the matter, he said, “Come inside with me, just this once. If I catch you acting without morals again, there won’t be a next time!”
“Yes!”
“Yes, yes!”
Liu Dahua knelt so fervently his forehead broke the skin.
He stood up, trembling with excitement, and held out a brocade box with both hands. “Brother Zhao, here’s the Lingzhi!”
“Hmph!”
Zhao Feng snorted, still seeming dissatisfied, then stretched out his hand indifferently. “Give it here.”
“Yes, yes!”
When Zhao Feng accepted his Lingzhi, Liu Dahua felt his suspicions confirmed: Zhao Feng was indeed a true master.
Zhao Feng opened the box to check the Lingzhi and found it of fine quality, though not of much use to himself.
He had spent a year in the Celestial Sect, tempering his body with all kinds of miraculous herbs—far superior to this.
Those were genuine spirit medicines, some so rare that even the Celestial Sect seldom saw their like.
Still, this Lingzhi could serve to replenish his parents’ vitality.
Thinking of this, Zhao Feng suddenly found Liu Dahua rather perceptive.
He took the box and walked toward the courtyard, Liu Dahua hurrying after.
As they entered, Chen Lan, who was watering flowers, was startled.
“Liu Dahua, why are you here?”
Liu Dahua forced an awkward smile. “Auntie, how’s your health?”
Chen Lan was still wary of Liu Dahua, for he had often come around causing trouble over the past year; she regarded him with a kind of fear.
However, seeing her son present, her confidence returned.
She snorted coldly, “Thanks to you, I’m not dead yet!”
“Heh, heh heh…”

Liu Dahua smiled in embarrassment, unsure how to reply.
Zhao Feng grinned. “Mom, as long as I’m here, Liu Dahua won’t be causing any trouble!”
Liu Dahua nodded obsequiously. “Exactly, exactly! In Brother Zhao’s hands, I’m not worth a fart!”
Chen Lan looked at Liu Dahua with disdain, disgusted by his cowardice and fawning.
Without another word, she let Zhao Feng and Liu Dahua enter the house.
Once inside, Zhao Feng’s expression turned icy.
“Take off your shirt!”
Zhao Feng’s tone was frigid.
Liu Dahua broke out in a cold sweat. “Yes, yes!”
In a matter of seconds, he stripped off his shirt and stood there, dazed, facing Zhao Feng. “Brother Zhao, what do I do next?”
“Lie down!”
Zhao Feng’s voice was still cold.
“Oh, oh!”
Liu Dahua looked around and, seeing only a bench, quickly lay down on it.
Bare-chested, his back covered in tattoos and rolls of fat, Liu Dahua made Zhao Feng curl his lip in distaste.
Zhao Feng took out his blue satchel and from it withdrew a blue pouch.
He ran his fingers over the little flower on the pouch, a trace of nostalgia in his eyes, and slowly opened it.
Today, he was going to do something—use a forbidden art on Liu Dahua.
This particular technique required one to be at least at the fifth level of Qi Refinement to perform. For Zhao Feng right now, it was still a stretch. But with the sect’s treasured artifact—the Eighteen Death Needles—
with their support, casting this forbidden art would be child’s play.
This technique was known as the Soul Control Technique.
Indeed, Zhao Feng had decided not to kill Liu Dahua yet; the man could still be useful in dealing with certain troubles.
“Ding!”
Zhao Feng picked up one of the Eighteen Death Needles and flicked it with his finger, producing a sound like a sword being drawn.
The Eighteen Death Needles were not only tools for healing, but also weapons for killing—hence the fearsome name.
Zhao Feng narrowed his eyes, casting a glance at Liu Dahua. The man lay prone on the bench, back exposed, entirely defenseless.
Zhao Feng relaxed a little.
To perform the Soul Control Technique, cooperation was best. Forced use would severely damage the subject’s mind.
Zhao Feng sneered, and with a pinch, plunged a needle into Liu Dahua’s lower back.
“Ugh—”
Liu Dahua grunted, wracked by pain; his head throbbed as though a needle were stabbing it.

“How do you feel?”
Liu Dahua whimpered, “It’s all right, I guess—there’s a warm current in my lower back, but my head feels like it’s being pricked by needles.”
With his back to Zhao Feng, Liu Dahua couldn’t see the cold indifference on his face—the look one gives the already dead.
Zhao Feng picked up another silver needle.
“Ding!”
A flick of his right hand brought another clear, resonant note.
“Swish!”
“Swish, swish!”
He stabbed the next needle into Liu Dahua’s nape, then, taking a third, plunged it into the man’s upper back.
Now, needles were embedded in Liu Dahua’s lower back, heart, and neck.
Liu Dahua’s face flushed red with pain, his neck thickening as he strained.
“Brother Zhao, why does it hurt so much?”
Zhao Feng replied coldly, “Don’t rush. I’m going to open up your meridians.”
Liu Dahua blinked. “Is that really a thing, opening the meridians?”
Zhao Feng rolled his eyes—in truth, it was nonsense, a myth people made up. But he kept the thought to himself.
With the three needles in place, Zhao Feng slowly stretched out his right hand, palm hovering above the needle in Liu Dahua’s lower back. There was a gap between his hand and the needle.
Suddenly, he began to circulate his internal spiritual energy with wild intensity.
A deep humming filled the air as Zhao Feng’s dantian surged with power, like a stream trickling along, growing brighter with each pulse.
If one could see within, his dantian was glowing, the energy coursing through his meridians to his palm’s acupoint.
With a muffled thud, a faint green aura appeared across his palm.
This energy flowed down through the needle into Liu Dahua’s body, as if electrified.
The needle in Liu Dahua’s lower back trembled and swayed under the flow of spiritual energy, quivering as if charged with power.