Chapter 074: Offering the Soul

Qiu He was cold and unfeeling. With a single motion, he reached into the void and pulled out a masked figure clad in black. The man recoiled in horror. “How did you see through my invisibility technique?”

Qiu He sneered. “What invisibility technique? It’s nothing but a rag over your head.” He gripped the man’s throat with chilling indifference. “Speak! Why are you here? Why did you attack me?”

The man stammered in broken Dragonese, “I—we—we can’t tolerate any masters rising in the Dragon Nation!”

“Ha!” Qiu He scoffed. “You worthless scum. Die!” With a sickening crack, Zhao Feng, inhabiting Qiu He, snapped the man’s neck.

A guttural sound escaped the dying ninja as his neck went limp, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His body crumpled to the ground.

Screams erupted from the ladies and nobles present. “Murder! Help! Someone’s been killed!” Even the men, seasoned as they were, stood frozen, shaken to their core. For all their years, none had witnessed a killing before—not even the slaughter of livestock.

Xiang Hu’s face was ashen, his heart pounding in dread. He had never expected Qiu He to be so ruthless, to kill without a second thought. Though Xiang Hu had ruled his domain for decades, he’d never dirtied his own hands with blood. Watching a life snuffed out before him, how could he remain unmoved? Even if it were a dog, he would not be indifferent.

He exhaled shakily, then stood and dropped to one knee. “I, Xiang Hu, am willing to follow Master Qiu!”

Xiang Chang quickly knelt as well. “I, too, am willing to follow Master Qiu!”

Qiu He nodded indifferently. “Good. Where is Xiang Tao?”

“This…” Xiang Hu hesitated.

Qiu He raised his brows, his expression instantly terrifying the two men.

Xiang Hu hurried to explain, “Xiao Tao has gone abroad!”

“Abroad? When?” Zhao Feng pressed.

“An hour ago!”

Zhao Feng grew anxious and quickly formed a hand seal. He received shocking news: one hour earlier, Xiang Tao had boarded a flight to Hong Kong.

Possessed by Zhao Feng, Qiu He glared at Xiang Hu. “Why did he leave the country?”

Xiang Hu hesitated but finally mustered the courage to answer, “Six months ago, a wealthy merchant from Hong Kong approached us, seeking our help to find an antique. He offered a price of ten million. We did everything we could to find it, but half a month ago, just as we were about to succeed, a high school student ruined everything.”

Zhao Feng realized he was the very student in question.

Qiu He nodded coldly. “And then?”

“The matter was shelved. But today, that Hong Kong merchant predicted that Xiao Tao would encounter great danger, as would he himself, so they left in a hurry.”

Zhao Feng’s face grew colder. “So all my planning was for nothing. My real target was to meet that Hong Kong merchant.”

“And then?” he demanded.

Suddenly, a maid rushed in. “Master, something terrible has happened!”

Xiang Hu stood, frowning. “What is it?”

“The painting in your study is missing!” she cried.

“What?” Xiang Hu’s anger and shock were palpable. “Who took it?”

Zhao Feng relaxed. He calculated swiftly and discovered the merchant from Hong Kong had taken the painting. A faint smile appeared on his lips. “It seems our efforts weren’t entirely wasted after all.”

Xiang Hu’s face was dark, mourning the loss of the painting, but he quickly regained his composure. He turned to Qiu He. “Master Qiu, what was the second condition you mentioned earlier?”

Qiu He sank into a chair. “The second matter is your soul’s offering.”

“My soul?”

“Yes.”

Xiang Hu scratched his head awkwardly. “How do I offer my soul?”

Qiu He chuckled ominously, rising to stand beside him. “Kneel.”

“This…” Xiang Hu flushed in embarrassment. Surrounded by the elite of Chenzhou City, he knew if he knelt now, he’d be the subject of ridicule for years to come.

Qiu He lowered his gaze. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Yes, yes!” After witnessing Qiu He’s terrifying power, Xiang Hu’s will to resist evaporated. He knelt, and Qiu He placed his right hand on Xiang Hu’s forehead.

“Now answer me: are you willing to offer your soul?”

Xiang Hu hesitated, but ultimately nodded. “I am willing.”

“Good.”

At that word, a terrifying vision appeared before Xiang Hu’s eyes—a vision unseen by ordinary people, visible only to a practitioner like himself.

He saw a reaper’s phantom, horned, clad in a white robe, a blade clamped between its teeth, standing behind Qiu He. Xiang Hu’s face twisted in fright.

He felt a wave of discomfort as the phantom slowly opened its maw, extending a tongue dozens of meters long, wrapping it around his neck. To Xiang Hu’s horror, a translucent shadow—his soul—floated free from his body. The reaper’s tongue coiled around the soul and swallowed it whole.

Xiang Hu, still kneeling, felt his energy instantly collapse.

With the ritual complete, Qiu He clasped his hands behind his back and strode toward the door. The disguised Zhao Feng hurried after him.

A faint voice drifted back. “Wait for my command.”

Xiang Hu nodded quickly. “Yes!”

The two left the Xiang estate and set out for Xiahe Village.

On the road, Qiu He was silent, his face haunted and fearful.

Zhao Feng asked quietly, “What’s troubling you?”

Qiu He took a deep breath. “Master, who are you, really?”

“Demon,” Zhao Feng replied, voice calm as still water.

Qiu He inhaled deeply, steadying himself. Of all those present today, none had been more shaken than he. To the others, it had seemed no more than a scene out of a martial arts film. But to Qiu He, it was pure fantasy—a world of possession, transmission of thoughts, and ancient martial arts, things no ordinary person could sense. As the recipient of these arcane techniques, he felt every moment with absolute clarity.

Zhao Feng patted Qiu He on the shoulder. “Enough. Don’t overthink it. You’ll get used to it in time.”

Qiu He nodded earnestly. “Yes, Master!”

“Where are we going now?” he asked.

Zhao Feng waved a hand. “I’ll go for a walk alone. You return and wait for my orders.”

“Yes!” Qiu He cupped his fists respectfully.