Chapter 18: Bewildered

In the world of cultivation, body-snatching was an art that only those who had attained the highest realms could attempt, and even then, it could be performed but once in a lifetime. Yet, the Daoist Wuchen had obtained a sinister and demonic technique, one that allowed him to seize bodies without reaching such exalted heights.

From the moment he first encountered Yin Tianfang and sensed the abundance of spiritual power within him, Wuchen’s heart was set. After bringing Yin Tianfang to the sect and imparting the methods of cultivation to him, Wuchen would often leave the sect. In truth, he was cultivating that very demonic art, preparing himself to seize Yin Tianfang’s body.

In Wuchen’s eyes, Yin Tianfang was born with innate spiritual energy and exceptional talent. Should the body-snatching succeed, combined with Wuchen’s own comprehension, he would inevitably break through to an even higher realm—perhaps even become the most formidable figure among all the cultivators in the Kingdom of Clear Water.

A phantom silhouette drifted toward Yin Tianfang, then transformed into a streak of light, merging into his body.

“Haha! My good disciple, have I not treated you well? If not for your master, you would have died long ago. Now, it is time for you to repay your master.”

Within Yin Tianfang’s sea of consciousness, the image of Daoist Wuchen appeared, drifting in the dim expanse where a sphere of light hovered serenely—Yin Tianfang’s very consciousness. At this moment, that consciousness was in deep slumber.

Daoist Wuchen reached out toward the sphere, intent on devouring Yin Tianfang’s awareness. If he succeeded, he would take his disciple’s place and occupy his body. Even if he had to start his cultivation anew, he was not afraid. It would not take long to return to his former glory—indeed, he would become stronger than ever.

Wuchen’s spectral hand stretched out, about to grasp Yin Tianfang’s consciousness, when suddenly, a figure materialized before the sphere.

“Who are you? How did you get here?” Wuchen was startled.

The newcomer slowly turned—his gentle features now cold as ice. He was the very middle-aged man Yin Tianfang had once seen in his dreams.

“You dare lay a hand on him? Courting death!” His voice was frigid, laced with killing intent. The man reached out, a giant ethereal hand grasping for Wuchen. Terrified, Wuchen tried to retreat but found himself immobilized, forced to watch as the hand grew larger and seized him.

“Spare me! Immortal, have mercy!” All semblance of composure gone, Wuchen pleaded for his life. Before this man, he was utterly powerless—an overwhelming sense of inevitability, as if defying fate itself, filled him.

The middle-aged man remained impassive. With a wave of his hand, Wuchen’s eyes dulled, his ethereal form dissolving into a haze of light, which floated in Yin Tianfang’s sea of consciousness.

“The soul of a Foundation Establishment cultivator, though weak, will still greatly benefit you now,” the man said, a gentle smile curving his lips as he gazed at Yin Tianfang’s sleeping consciousness, warmth flickering in his eyes.

Once more he reached out, extracting strange threads of power from Wuchen.

“So, it’s a Soul-Fusing Pill. That will save us much trouble,” the man mused quietly. Then, he sent both Wuchen’s soul and the pill’s power into Yin Tianfang’s consciousness.

With Wuchen’s awareness erased, what remained was pure soul energy. Under the effect of the Soul-Fusing Pill, this energy was gradually absorbed by Yin Tianfang’s soul, making it steadily stronger. Observing this, the man nodded in satisfaction before his figure faded, vanishing from Yin Tianfang’s sea of consciousness.

As Wuchen’s soul was consumed and fused by Yin Tianfang, in the great hall of the Azure Cloud Sect where soul tablets were kept, the tablet belonging to Wuchen cracked, the fissure widening until, with a sharp snap, it shattered completely.

The death of Yin Wushuang had already cast a pall over the sect, making the atmosphere tense and uneasy. The soul tablet hall had been guarded day and night. The moment the Grand Elder’s tablet broke, someone noticed at once, his expression changing dramatically.

“The Grand Elder is dead!” The guard stared in shock at the broken tablet, mumbling in disbelief. Once he regained his senses, he scrambled out of the hall in panic.

“Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong!” he shouted as he ran, further darkening the already grim mood pervading the Azure Cloud Sect.

“What’s happened now? Not long ago, the Discipline Hall Elder died mysteriously, and all his disciples were interrogated yet we've found no culprit. Now, another incident?”

“Maybe the Second Elder offended someone, and now an enemy has come for revenge.”

“But the Second Elder was so powerful—who could possibly be his match? I’m telling you, it has to be some rival sect plotting against us. Otherwise, why would they target figures of Elder rank?”

“If that’s true, we should find a way to leave. If war breaks out, we ordinary servants will be the first to die. It’s just too dangerous.”

Watching the panicked figure running toward the Patriarch’s Hall, the entire sect was thrown into anxiety and unrest.

“What has you so flustered?” An elder appeared, blocking the way and reprimanding him sternly.

“Fifth Elder, something terrible has happened—the Grand Elder… he…”

“What of the Grand Elder?” the Fifth Elder frowned, his tone grave.

“His soul tablet… has shattered…”

“What?!” The Fifth Elder’s eyes widened, his mind reeling. If the Grand Elder’s soul tablet was broken, it meant he was dead.

The Second Elder, Yin Wushuang, had been murdered and the killer hadn’t been found; now the Grand Elder had perished as well. What on earth was happening?

Regaining his composure, the Fifth Elder hurried into the Patriarch’s Hall and ordered the guards, “Sound the warning bell!”

Three peals rang out across the Azure Cloud Sect, sending a chill through every heart. Another elder had fallen—who was it this time?

The warning bell, silent for decades, had now tolled twice in as many days.

“What’s happened now?” A voice arrived before its owner, followed by a figure striding into the hall, with other elders in quick pursuit.

“Third Elder, the Grand Elder’s soul tablet has shattered!” the Fifth Elder said in anguish. With the Second Elder murdered and now this fresh calamity, the elders were not only furious but also deeply grieved.

“It must be the work of the Profound Dao Sect. Our Azure Cloud Sect has always been at odds with them—they must have targeted the Grand and Second Elders from the shadows!”

“That’s right. Within a thousand miles, only Profound Dao Sect has the strength to kill our elders.” Instantly, all suspicion fell on the Profound Dao Sect—the enmity between the two sects was well known.

“Let’s go—we’ll demand an explanation from Profound Dao Sect right now!” The Third Elder’s brows shot up, his rage palpable.

“Third Elder, don’t be rash. This is only our conjecture. If we act without evidence, it will only escalate tensions between our sects,” another elder hastily urged, fearing the hot-tempered Third Elder would storm off regardless.

“I think it’s best to report to the Sect Master first,” one elder suggested.

“Hmph! If I learn who the murderer is, I’ll tear him to pieces!” the Third Elder snarled, his words heavy with murderous intent.

On North Peak, in a hidden chamber, Yin Tianfang slowly regained consciousness. The moment he opened his eyes, memories of what had happened before his blackout flooded his mind, and he shot upright.

Turning his head, he saw the corpse of Daoist Wuchen lying beside him, and his heart twisted in agony, tears streaming down his face.

“Why, Master? Why?” Yin Tianfang murmured. He could not comprehend how the master who had cared for and protected him could turn and strike against him—how it could all have been a lie.

“Was your kindness to me all a lie?” Yin Tianfang shouted, clutching his head in pain, his cries wild and wounded like a beast, lost to despair. Only after a long while did he quiet down, sitting there in a daze as scenes from his past flashed through his mind, all eventually replaced by a monstrous, twisted grin.

He clawed at his own hair, unable to accept the truth—that everything had been an illusion.

Two figures hurried toward the chamber. Bursting in, they saw the grief-stricken Yin Tianfang and the corpse of Daoist Wuchen. Zhang Ping and Lin Fan’s expressions changed dramatically.

“It’s true, then.” They alone, aside from Yin Tianfang, had known of Wuchen’s return to the sect. That day, hearing the three warning bells, they had gone to the main peak to investigate, and so discovered news of Wuchen’s death.

They had witnessed Wuchen’s return with their own eyes—how then could he have died so suddenly? They had rushed back to North Peak to investigate the secret chamber, only to find this grisly truth.

“Master!” Skirting the corpse, they knelt by Yin Tianfang’s side and spoke gently, “Master, the news of the Grand Elder’s death has spread throughout the sect. We must leave Azure Cloud Sect at once.”

The Grand Elder’s death had shaken the sect to its core. Though they were not the culprits, the Grand Elder had died in a secret chamber accessible only to the three of them—making them prime suspects. Moreover, with Yin Tianfang’s poor relations with Qing Fengqingyue, it was likely they would be implicated.

Therefore, the best course was to flee before anyone noticed their absence.

“Master?” They called to him, but Yin Tianfang sat unresponsive, muttering to himself as if lost to madness.

Zhang Ping and Lin Fan exchanged glances. Gritting his teeth, Zhang Ping struck Yin Tianfang’s neck, knocking him unconscious, then slung him over his back.

“Let’s go!” Zhang Ping whispered. With Lin Fan, he carried Yin Tianfang from the chamber, fleeing down a deserted mountain path toward the base of North Peak.