Lu Sheng smiled warmly at the two sisters. Over the past few days, he had observed subtle changes in their condition—after proper treatment, the malignant skin disease that afflicted them showed visible signs of easing. They worked diligently too, performing the tasks he assigned with quiet competence. Washing his robes, tidying his quarters, fetching water… all the mundane duties Qiao’er once handled, yet executed with even greater care.
Seeing joy and dawning realization flicker across their faces, a thought arose in Lu Sheng’s mind. ‘These two… they carry secrets and a rare ability. If I lend them a hand while they’re struggling, I might plant a seed of goodwill.’
After a moment of consideration, he spoke. “If the two of you wish to learn, I can teach you some basic saber techniques. I can tell you’ve never practiced any combat skills before.”
The sisters’ expressions lit up instantly.
“Young Master… is that truly possible?!” Liu Qin’s voice trembled with excitement.
“Of course. Just the basics,” Lu Sheng replied with a nod.
Right then and there, he stepped forward and demonstrated a simple forward thrust from the Crimson Whale Saber Technique. His movements were steady, powerful, and precise—an unmistakable display of a top-tier expert.
Unbeknownst to him, several sect disciples had quietly gathered nearby. For them, witnessing Lu Sheng teach personally was an opportunity as rare as seeing a dragon spread its wings.
After finishing his meticulous demonstration, he let the two girls practice the motions on each other, guiding their posture and correcting their angles with patient gestures. Meanwhile, he shared his personal insights on the Crimson Whale Saber Technique with the disciples who had gathered around, their faces rapt with attention.
Morning slipped by in what felt like moments. By the time Lu Sheng sheathed his saber, the crowd’s impression of him had shifted. The once fearsome, savage-looking External Head now seemed… approachable. Even admirable.
The sisters, Liu Qin and Liu Caiyun, felt their respect for Lu Sheng deepen as well. Whether it was his decision to shelter them despite the risks, or teaching them martial arts himself, this Young Master Lu—whom they had barely known—had offered them more kindness than anyone else ever had.
For the next several days, whenever Lu Sheng crossed paths with the sisters, he taught them a few basic saber strokes and had them practice again and again. Under his guidance, their progress grew noticeable. What once felt like fumbling in the dark now became coordinated motion; when the two sparred, they could finally sense a rhythm—a steady exchange of advance and retreat.
Before this, they had been nearly helpless in combat. Aside from their final trump card, which required close contact to be effective, they had no means to defend themselves against ghosts. Without any formal training, every confrontation meant gambling with their lives.
But with Lu Sheng’s instruction, the sisters were no longer defenseless. They were no longer ordinary girls relying on instinct—they were becoming novices who possessed the beginnings of true combat skill.
Slowly, the sisters began to view Lu Sheng as their Master. In turn, they started seeing themselves as his disciples. Lu Sheng did not object. After all, what he imparted were merely the simplest foundations—techniques any disciple who studied the Crimson Whale Saber Technique would be familiar with.
Yet it was these very fundamentals that the sisters needed most.
Between lessons, Lu Sheng continued his own cultivation, immersing himself in a medicinal bath every few days to further temper the Nine Lakes Steel Chains Skill. Twice he pushed his Yin-Yang Jade Crane inner force to its limit, exhausting his strength completely in order to advance.
The result was swift. After the second bath, his hard-body skill reached its peak—Level Three. When activated, black veins surfaced across his skin like interlocking chains, and his body’s resilience reached a terrifying degree. An average Strength Proficiency expert would struggle to harm him without an exceptionally sharp weapon.
Even so, what Lu Sheng most desired was to advance the Ultimate Crimson Mantra. He had already cultivated the inner force technique to its limit; any further progress would require extrapolating a new level through Yin Qi.
But the Yin Qi he had collected from the slain ghost was far too little—nowhere near enough to push the Ultimate Crimson Mantra past Level Seven. He would need another source, and soon.
In the blink of an eye, half a month slipped by.
During that time, Lu Sheng went back and forth between his residence and the Martial Proclamation Library, all while waiting for word from Fine Treasures Hall. He also sought out Elder Zhang Baiyu, who gladly allowed him to examine his cherished antiques. Yet despite the elder’s enthusiasm, Lu Sheng found not a single trace of Yin Qi among the collection.
His next hope was the Crimson Whale Sect’s warehouse. The place held a mountain of items—everything from assorted trophies to trade goods, even finely crafted jewelry—but most were far too new. Naturally, none of them carried Yin Qi either.
Once again, Lu Sheng returned empty-handed.
Meanwhile, news from the old Sect Master grew increasingly grim. Zhen Yi of the Zhen Family—the same Young Master Lu Sheng had seen before—had been ambushed near Ash Smoke Town by Donglin Manor. Severely wounded, he had been rushed back to his clan.
At last, Lu Sheng received his own assignment: to clean up the aftermath of a battle at Song Manor. A fierce confrontation had just erupted there, costing the Scarlet District more than a few ghosts.
For the sect to deploy Lu Sheng—the third strongest expert—spoke volumes about the severity of the threat. An attack from Scarlet Tower was expected, and there was also an object within Song Manor that needed to be retrieved.
Upon receiving the mission, Lu Sheng strapped on his new pair of sabers, gathered his men, and set off for Song Manor without hesitation. He had just attended Lu Chenxin’s funeral, and the weight of the situation pressed heavily on him. At the same time, he hungered for Yin Qi—and thus, for another encounter with ghosts.
…………
Song Manor.
Lu Sheng stood at the entrance, gazing into the ruined courtyard beyond. Charred marks streaked the ground, and more than half of the manor’s perimeter wall had crumbled into rubble. Houses that once stood proudly were now pocked with gaping holes, giving the entire place the forlorn air of an abandoned, decaying temple.
According to the representative sent by the Zhen Family, the Anomaly within had already been eradicated. But countless bodily remains still littered the grounds—dangerous remnants that could easily give birth to new threats if left unattended. The Crimson Whale Sect had been assigned to clear the aftermath.
Before Lu Sheng’s arrival, several dozen sect disciples had already encircled the manor. An Internal Affairs Emissary, surnamed Wang, had been overseeing the site.
When Internal Head Wang caught sight of Lu Sheng, he exhaled in visible relief. In just seven or eight days of guarding Song Manor, the man—originally weighing around 180 catties—had shed nearly thirty from sheer strain.
After a swift handover of responsibilities, Internal Head Wang hurried off to rest. He had clearly reached his limit.
Lu Sheng turned his gaze back toward the wreckage of Song Manor, then lifted his eyes to the sky. The sun blazed overhead—scorching, merciless. It was the hottest hour of the day.
He looked to Ning San and Duan Meng’an at his side, with five Strength Proficiency experts from the Soaring Eagle Squad standing behind them.
“Stand guard outside. No one enters or leaves without permission. I’ll go in and take a look,” Lu Sheng instructed.
“Yes, sir!” they answered in unison.
Among the Soaring Eagle Squad, the strongest was a tanned, middle-aged swordsman named Xu Chui. His blade skills were sharp enough to make even Lu Sheng raise a brow. The speed of his sword eclipsed that of Lu Sheng’s own Pursuing the Wind Blade.
There was a famous tale from his service: Xu Chui had once sliced an entire table into six flawless squares in the blink of an eye. Of everyone in the Soaring Eagle Squad, he was the one Lu Sheng believed had the greatest potential to break through to Intent Proficiency.
“External Head, do you need me to accompany you?” Xu Chui asked after a moment of hesitation. He had always been a modest, steady man within the Soaring Eagle Squad. Since Lu Sheng took command, not only had he preserved their original benefits, but he had also offered Xu Chui guidance in martial arts more than once. It was only natural that a sense of loyalty was beginning to take root.
Lu Sheng turned his head slightly. “Aren’t you afraid?”
“Isn’t this exactly why we train?” Xu Chui replied with an easy smile.
Lu Sheng studied him for a heartbeat. “Do you have a family?”
“I’ve got a son,” Xu Chui answered. “And a wife, and a concubine.”
“Then come along,” Lu Sheng said with a small nod. “If you were without family, I wouldn’t risk cutting off the Xu bloodline.”
Xu Chui chuckled. “I trust External Head Lu. As long as we don’t run into ghosts, those Scarlet Tower punks are nothing before you.”
Lu Sheng laughed lightly. “Scarlet Tower has four Tower Lords. If it’s any one of them, I can still guarantee your safety.”
Publicly, the strength he displayed hovered between Level Four and Five of the Ultimate Crimson Mantra. But Level Seven—and the Nine Lakes Steel Chains Skill—remained his hidden cards. On the surface, he was an internal-and-external dual cultivator at the Spirit Focus level. In truth, if he unleashed everything, even a Divine Prime expert would likely struggle against him.
But Deep Blue had to remain a secret—so concealment was unavoidable.
Deputy Sect Master Chen Ying had once crossed blades with a Tower Lord of Scarlet Tower. According to him, the Tower Lords stood at the peak of Spirit Focus. If any of them showed up today, their fate would be a brutal death beneath Lu Sheng’s saber.
“Let’s go,” Lu Sheng said, stepping forward with Xu Chui at his side.
This would be his first time cleaning up a mess for the Zhen Family.
He crossed the threshold into Song Manor.
The moment Lu Sheng stepped into the manor, he was greeted by a chilling sight—a pale, ghostly female corpse hanging from a withered tree, suspended by a long rope that creaked softly in the wind. She wore a grayish-white skirt and a faded yellow top.
Lu Sheng halted, eyes narrowing as he studied the figure.
The woman’s eyes had been gouged out, her nose sliced clean off. Her entire body was shriveled and sunken, like a punctured leather sack, swaying lifelessly against the dead bark.
“Is that a Scarlet District ghost?” Lu Sheng murmured.
Xu Chui shook his head, equally unsure.
“Do all ghosts have physical bodies?” Lu Sheng asked, trying to recall what he had encountered before. Low-level ghosts typically had no corporeal form—when slain, they left behind nothing but powder or a token object. Only higher-tier creatures, like Souls of the Dead, possessed fleshly bodies.
After observing from afar, Lu Sheng stepped closer. Standing before the hanging corpse, he drew his saber and gently prodded the body, turning it with the blade’s tip.
“This is a human corpse, not a ghost,” he said with a frown. “Either a passerby… or someone from Scarlet Tower.”
There was no Yin Qi at all. Not surprising—yet still disappointing.
Lowering his saber, Lu Sheng headed toward the central bedroom.
The last time he had been here, the little girl—the Anomaly—had lived in that room. Souls of the Dead and an entire host of ghosts had once infested the manor. If Zhen Family had done a clean sweep, there might still be an overlooked remnant, something carrying Yin Qi.
With a sharp bang, Lu Sheng kicked open the wooden door to the central bedroom. Dust billowed outward, and he raised a hand to cover his nose as he stepped inside.
The floor was littered with empty robes, sprawled in chaotic heaps. A layer of grayish-white ash—dried ghost remains—covered them like a thin, unnatural frost.
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