Who would have known that the Hundred-Faced Nightmare had been personally dealt with by the giant red shadow outside the Panlong Dream Realm? It had nothing to do with Hee Lingchuan at all. When he set out to pursue the Curse Master, he was at full strength—powerful and resilient.
Hee Lingchuan’s opponent could summon the Hundred-Faced Nightmare, enlist the Fanx Brothers, and lay a series of traps. One could say he was both meticulous and cautious.
Anyone else in his place would have faced certain death.
Yet, against all odds, Hee Lingchuan had managed to escape.
For Zhongsun Mou and the others, this was a case of one wrong move leading to one mistake after another.
A series of mistakes that must have felt terribly unjust.
"The Curse Master has probably gotten far, but we should still try to track him," Hee Lingchuan said. He pulled a chair leg out of his Storage Ring and pointed to the bloodstains on it. "Sniff this. Which way did he run?"
"..." ’Treating me like a dog again. How many times has it been?’ Jiao Yu couldn’t be bothered to complain anymore. He sniffed it seriously. "This guy uses too much Chewing Tobacco. His blood stinks of it."
"No, no, I just pulled this from the fire." ’Is this guy reliable at all?’
"I was just saying," Jiao Yu coughed, then circled the inn, sniffing as he went.
Hee Lingchuan was dying of anxiety but knew better than to rush him.
Fortunately, Jiao Yu finally found the trail. "This way."
The man and the tiger ran northwest.
The low-slung houses along the road grew sparse, replaced by sprawling mansions. Their exquisite gates and grand architecture looked just as impressive in the dark of night.
Finally, Jiao Yu stopped in front of a large residence.
Hee Lingchuan had passed many residences, but this was the only one with a seal on its gate.
"You can’t be serious?" Though he knew it might hurt the tiger’s pride, Hee Lingchuan couldn’t help but ask, "Are you sure you didn’t lead us down the wrong path?"
This was the Jiao Residence.
The former home of Fu Songhua, before his arrest.
’Why would the Curse Master flee here?’
The tiger demon sniffed hard twice. "No mistake. The smell of blood is strong, and it leads right here."
"And then?"
He followed the tiger demon over the wall and into a side room.
The tiger demon sniffed its way through the main hall, finally stopping beside a bamboo grove. "The scent disappears here."
"Here?" Hee Lingchuan drew his saber and made two phantom swings forward.
The Gang Qi from his saber rustled the bamboo grove, startling the roosting birds and bats in a nearby tree into flight.
But aside from that, there was no other movement.
"There’s no one here." Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to hide from a tiger demon infused with Primordial Power.
Hee Lingchuan slowly sheathed his saber. "Someone helped him escape."
There were plenty of ways to erase one’s scent and cover one’s tracks. He had learned at least three or four methods back when he was a Patrol Guard.
But for the injured Curse Master to flee all the way here, there had to have been someone waiting for him.
The two of them circled the house a few times but found nothing new, so they had to head back.
Jiao Yu said resentfully, "No wonder that bastard Zhongsun Mou was so composed. He must have been certain we wouldn’t catch his man."
He then asked Hee Lingchuan, "You were hit by his dirty trick. Are you sure you’re completely fine?"
"This Curse Master sent a Nightmare into my dreams to harm me, but I broke his spell. The backlash from the Curse Art must have been severe."
"A Nightmare?" Jiao Yu was surprised. "So those things actually exist. I’ve only ever heard of them before."
"Nightmares harm people without anyone ever knowing," Hee Lingchuan said. A thought occurred to him, and he subconsciously stopped in his tracks.
The tiger demon also stopped and waited for him. "What is it?"
"It’s nothing." Hee Lingchuan shook his head and continued walking toward the inn. "Just remembered a strange incident from the past. Thinking back on it now, it might have been the work of a Nightmare."
A few days before Hee Chunhua was due to arrive in Dunyu to assume his post in Xiazhou, the Patriarch of the Li Family—the head of the four great families—Old Sir Li, suddenly died.
Old Li, who could eat well and sleep soundly and was in excellent health, passed away in his sleep without a single mark on his body. It was said that the exorcism Talismans were all in place but had no effect.
’Looking back now, could that have been the work of a Nightmare?’
Hee Lingchuan sighed. He found that he wasn’t surprised at all.
’Perhaps, deep down, he had known what was going on all along. After all, once Old Li died, the new Governor of Xiazhou quickly took control of all of Dunyu.’
Back at the inn, Hee Lingchuan clutched his abdomen. "It’s still a long time until dawn. I need to tend to my wounds."
"Good night." Jiao Yu flicked his tail. "They probably won’t try anything else tonight, right?"
Hee Lingchuan secured the door, drank some water, and applied medicine to his wound.
’I even got a souvenir from the dream. I should hurry back and check it out.’
As was his habit of the past few months, he first had to unbuckle his saber and place it by his side. Otherwise, it would dig into him uncomfortably whether he was meditating or sleeping.
However, when Hee Lingchuan reached for his scabbard this time, he suddenly felt that the weight was wrong.
He looked down and saw only the scabbard hanging at his waist.
Floating Life had vanished into thin air.
’Huh? Where’s my saber?’
It had been his inseparable companion for months; the saber’s presence felt as natural as breathing. Hee Lingchuan froze for a few moments before his expression changed drastically.
’Didn’t it cling to me just like the Divine Bone? Didn’t it automatically return to me even when thrown?’
’How could this saber possibly get lost?’
Suddenly, there was a flutter outside. Something was moving beyond the paper window.
Hee Lingchuan’s heart tightened. He rushed to the window and threw it open, only to see a starling with its wing caught on a branch, struggling desperately.
Flying at night is risky.
Hee Lingchuan casually chopped the branch. Freed, the bird flapped its wings and flew away.
’Hm? Chopped?’
He slowly lowered his head and looked at the long saber in his hand.
’The feel of it... this was definitely Floating Life. But where had it just appeared from?’
As if in answer to his question, Floating Life vanished the next second.
’Could it be?’
Hee Lingchuan paused, a look of understanding dawning on him. He silently called out in his mind, "Saber, come."
The moment the thought formed, the long saber reappeared in his hand.
The grip was a perfect fit.
Hee Lingchuan grinned from ear to ear. "Man and saber as one?"
’To be given such a great gift in the middle of the night... why the sudden generosity?’
In truth, "man and saber as one" was a bit of an exaggeration. The Floating Life Blade had simply been absorbed into his body.
Immortals of Ancient Times and the Middle Ages could use their bodies as scabbards, nourishing their Magical Artifacts with their own True Power.
Unfortunately, the spiritual nature of Magical Artifacts in later eras declined, and the cost of absorbing them grew. Cultivators eventually stopped doing it altogether, simply wearing them at their waists like common iron.
In this era, only artifacts at the level of a Quasi-Divine Artifact or higher could merge with their master.
"What happened? Did you level up again?" Hee Lingchuan stroked the blade, recalling the powerful Nightmare the Grand Square Pot had devoured tonight. "Is it because you two had a feast?"
’Even the giant red shadow had to take action personally. That Nightmare must have been quite a tonic for them, right?’
The Floating Life Blade, of course, gave no response, but upon inspection, Hee Lingchuan discovered that its special ability had changed slightly.
**Breaking Army:** Pierces the opponent’s Primordial Power to inflict the full, original damage. However, the chance of this effect triggering is extremely slim.
Now, that "extremely slim" had become "possible."
In other words, the likelihood of him triggering the Breaking Army ability had increased by more than a small margin.
’As expected of his Treasure Saber. Feed it something good, and it gives something back. Not like the Grand Square Pot, which maintains its aloof, dead-inside attitude no matter how many rare treasures it devours.’
Hee Lingchuan felt he would be smiling even in his sleep tonight!
There was a knock on the door, and the Tiger Demon’s voice came through. "What’s going on?"
He had heard Hee Lingchuan open the window again. ’What’s with all the commotion, time after time, in the middle of the night?’
"It’s nothing."
But the tiger demon continued to scratch at the door.
Hee Lingchuan had no choice but to let him in.
The tiger demon leaped directly onto the couch and settled down. "Alright, I’ll act as your Protector."
As Hee Lingchuan lay down, the tiger began to lick its fur. It was a nocturnal animal, naturally more energetic after dark.
Hee Lingchuan looked up and saw it lying in the moonlight, its two eyes glowing like lanterns.
...
This time, his meditation led him directly into a dream. Hee Lingchuan once again found himself standing under the Juluo Tree.
Clearly, the Panlong Dream Realm understood his needs.
The net bag was still securely caught in the branches. To the people of Panlong City, the bag just contained a large rock; not even a mischievous child would give it a second glance.
Hee Lingchuan took the net bag down, only to find that the Nightmare’s head had deflated by half again. It was frantically screaming for help.
He asked the Juluo Tree, "Did you take a secret bite?"
The words were barely out of his mouth when a root fell off the Monster Head.
Hee Lingchuan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ’A little late to be destroying the evidence, isn’t it?’
This Juluo Tree was still young, after all. It couldn’t resist a secret snack and now had a guilty conscience.
Hee Lingchuan ducked into an empty street corner before holding up the Nightmare’s head. "Answer my questions obediently, or I’ll bury you under that tree as fertilizer."
With its life in his hands, what else could it say? "Ask away."
"Who sent you? Name."
"I told you, I don’t know..." A deep resentment still festered within it.
Hee Lingchuan cradled it and started to walk away. "Forget it. Fertilizer it is."
"Wait, wait, wait! I’ll talk!" the Nightmare’s head cried out repeatedly. "That Curse Master’s name is Cheng Yu. He has been giving us Sacrificial Offerings for years. Whenever he runs into a tough target, he asks us to step in."
"You’re that accommodating? You grant every request?"
"Not exactly, but the opponents Cheng Yu can’t handle usually have powerful and delicious Divine Souls."
"What’s this Cheng’s background?"
"That, we really don’t know." At a slight movement from Hee Lingchuan’s hand, the Monster Head yelped, "I’m serious! We don’t pay much attention to reality."
"What about the Fanx Brothers?"
"What brothers?" The Monster Head looked baffled. "Who?"
Hee Lingchuan gripped it and pretended to throw it toward the Juluo Tree. The Monster Head shrieked, "I swear, I don’t know any Fanx Brothers! I’ve never even heard of them!"
Fine. Hee Lingchuan had only asked on a whim anyway.
He was also quite curious about a Nightmare that even the Grand Square Pot had to deal with personally. "Why did you say ’we’? How many faces does your original self have?"
"One hundred and twenty-seven. Our title is the Hundred-Faced Nightmare, but we actually have more than a hundred faces," the Monster Head said. "A new face appears every time a consciousness awakens."
"Then how did the original ’Hundred Faces’ come to be?"
"Back in the Mortal World, my original self was called Bai Zhu. He was an Immortal. Many, many years ago—I can’t remember exactly how long—he was gravely injured and on the verge of death. Unwilling to just fade away, he used every means at his disposal to escape into the Dream Realm and has settled here ever since."
"Why was he so injured?"
"I don’t remember that either," the Monster Head said. "When we Nightmares devour the vital essence of humans or Demons, we also absorb their memories. Over time, all these jumbled memories slowly overwrite our own. After a while, we can’t even remember where we came from. It’s the same for our original self. He only remembers his original name; everything else has been forgotten."