Volume 1, Chapter 73 – Deep Stratagem

Days slipped by; it was already three days later.

In the dim stone cavern, Bai Xiang sat alone in midair. An anvil, a forge, and a full set of tools were laid out before her. In the furnace burned the “Zhenyuan” sword embryo, blazing in the high heat.

These tools were all ready‑made. She figured either the Chai father and daughter had brought them in, or they’d been found here and refurbished by hand. In any case they’d been prepared for Chai Xuan—only to fall to her benefit now.

“The forging method recorded in the scroll of The Startling‑Spirit Cicada says you start the next step only after the sword embryo has been annealed soft.”

Opening her eyes to stare at the long bar in the furnace, Bai Xiang couldn’t help a slight frown.

What on earth was this “Zhenyuan” sword embryo made of, that after three days of roasting it still wasn’t at temperature?

Her only consolation was that since this morning it had finally shown signs of being refined. If that pace held, she ought to complete the forging today.

Roasting a sword embryo was pure grunt work—at least for this one. After tending the furnace for a while, Bai Xiang stopped waiting idly, ended her cultivation, dropped to the ground, and, in passing, glanced up overhead.

This cavern was the one Chai Xuan had gone into earlier; it was larger inside than the cave outside where the fighting had taken place. Not only were forging implements and tools set out, there was a deep pool in one corner which tests showed was running water.

As for the ceiling—the sight was a bit hair‑raising. Faint white points of light could be seen above, like vents to the surface, drawing up the smoke from the furnace. A few zhang from those points, the rock had cracked and bulged outward, exposing a strange creature: overall oval, clad in a hard, irregular, chitinous shell.

The Startling‑Spirit Cicada.

The portion exposed alone was over five meters across; its true size had to be at least in the forty‑to‑fifty‑meter class. No wonder it could form that Buddha‑hall chamber inside its body.

The Egg Case’s chitin layer had originally sprouted countless fine rootlets that ramified into the rock, sucking nutrients from the entire Illusory Realm like tree roots. But now more than half those rootlets had withered. One—the thickest and most vital—had been hauled down by Bai Xiang; she’d cut a small opening and hung it above the forge, so fresh scarlet demon blood dripped into the fire every moment.

Each time demon blood fell into the flames, the fire would instantly “whoomp” up a notch, its overall color tending toward crimson, with a hiss of white smoke.

Bai Xiang glanced at the other three still‑living rootlets. They crept a stretch along the wall before drooping down, and beneath each hung a thick, brown‑black, hard‑shelled cocoon.

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There were people in those.

Huang Qian, Cao Chuan.

Oh, and Xu Xi.

Only those three had been wrapped inside. Finer rootlets had pierced their spines to feed them blood and essence, suspending their lives and keeping them from dying.

If anything, the three were damned lucky.

From the start the cicada demon had harbored ill intent; its promises to Bai Xiang couldn’t be taken at face value. Outwardly it agreed not to harm the Chilong Army soldiers for the time being, but secretly it had already expelled them from the Egg Case and hung them below as “blood bags.”

While Bai Xiang fought and transformed in the caves, those people hung here, slowly being drained by the Egg Case.

By the time Bai Xiang finally eliminated the threats and could come here to take control, most of the soldiers had been sucked down to mere remains; some didn’t even have bone crumbs left—one squeeze and they crumbled like dough.

Only Huang Qian and Cao Chuan—though demonic aura had invaded their bodies and left them comatose—their swords were still operating on their own.

Cao Chuan’s sword, “Chenyuan,” even within the cocoon, released streams of black watery vapor, doing its best to slice away the rootlets driven into his major acupoints.

Huang Qian’s sword, “Black Mane,” was even more formidable, directly shaping demonic aura into strands like black bristles that wrapped him up inside the cocoon.

If not for the rootlets speared into the backs of their necks at the outset, they’d likely have woken long ago and broken free on their own.

As for Xu Xi—that was pure luck.

Bai Xiang had originally meant to kill her, because she’d at least overheard secrets like “Daokong’s reincarnation” and “relics (sarira) and the sword embryo.” To keep outsiders from linking the “Nine Tribulations Method” with the Shenming Dojo, such loose ends could not be left.

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So what if she knew the Nine Tribulations Method scams people?

Useless.

No one would believe her if she said it.

But on one hand, the strike that was about to pierce her brow was interrupted. On the other, Bai Xiang found a hidden chamber in the rear caves with clear traces of human habitation, and a trove of old texts written on special paper.

After reading through those texts, Bai Xiang concluded this had once been where her ancestor Bai Muying secluded herself in cultivation.

Many were recorded as diaries and weekly notes, which both confirmed the Illusory Realm had belonged to Bai Muying and verified her complicated feelings toward Daoist Qu (Huang Ye).

Most important of all, she found Bai Muying’s final blood‑written note.

[Shattered my Dao heart… stole my core method… the one who betrayed and abandoned me… the demon Huang Ye!]

Bai Xiang had intended to kill Xu Xi and the other Benling disciples to silence them, but this blood note made her change her mind.

Because even if she did that, when she later took Huang Qian and Cao Chuan out, she’d have no good way to explain herself under outside questioning.

She couldn’t hide from the world that this was the Shenming Ancestral Ground; otherwise she couldn’t explain why only she was fine—why she alone had gained opportunity and advanced greatly in cultivation.

Opportunities need a cause; that connection could only be shored up with the claim of the “Shenming Ancestral Ground.”

At that point, she would be the “sole beneficiary” at center stage. Whether it was the Demon‑Immortal Dao, which had lost almost all its southern strength, or the Benling Sword Dao, which had likewise suffered heavy losses, all eyes would lock onto her.

In that scenario, the balance of power was far too lopsided.

Leaving no room for others’ imagination, leaving not a trace, thinking that without evidence they couldn’t convict—such an approach was meaningless.

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The Benling Sword Dao’s dispatched disciples were almost wiped out; most importantly, they’d also lost a backbone like Liang Wenbo, a clan junior like Liang Wanming, and Chai Xuan—a rising supernova who, if not exposed, was still their hope for the future.

Would they go mad?

As a top‑tier force, would they brave pressure even from Fang Xiaochun to come seize her and torture out a confession?

Bai Xiang could indeed lay bare the Chai father and daughter’s plot to redirect these people’s hatred—true enough.

But the moment she did, she would inevitably expose the Chai family’s visit to the Shenming Dojo as well!

Following the vine, they’d dig into how Chai Jingyuan, in Daizhou, managed to find an opportunity in Qizhou; they’d check his background and backing, even trace it to Huang Yuxian—and very likely implicate Daokong Chan Master!

Kill or not kill, it would be exposed either way.

So why go for total eradication?

Bai Xiang saw it clearly.

If my testimony alone isn’t enough, then leave one more witness.

Someone like Xu Xi—her temperament alone showed she wouldn’t be unpopular within the Benling Sword Dao.

Better to let her live and use her mouth to expose the Chai father and daughter.

Not only would that shift the hatred onto them and ruin their names; she could also use these old texts—use Bai Muying’s blood note—to package herself and the entire Bai clan as “victims.”

Besides… by devouring the cicada demon’s soul and Daokong Chan Master’s remnant, she’d inherited some hazy memories.

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The portion from Daokong Chan Master’s remnant covered the whole sequence: how, attached to the sword embryo, he was driven by Chai Xuan to entrap and kill Liang Wenbo.

From this, Bai Xiang could be sure that even if Xu Xi had woken from that point, the secrets she heard weren’t that deep.

She knew only “Daokong’s reincarnation” and the “Nine Tribulations Method,” not what that method actually was.

Conveniently, Chai Jingyuan had cultivated The Scripture of Returning to Origin and Transforming Qi.

He’d trained it crooked—taking the path of human modification and organ proliferation—but it was enough to fabricate the banner of a “Transforming Qi method.”

Use that banner to muddy outside eyes.

That way, far fewer gazes would probe into the Shenming Sword Dao, into the “Cicada‑Shed Method” hidden within.

So Bai Xiang dragged Xu Xi in and let the Egg Case, by instinct, wrap her—keeping her asleep while nourishing her with its own essence blood—so she could live three days without food or water.

She left the other Benling disciples alone.

Hao Chengzhuo?

Don’t know him.

You were drained of blood and essence—that’s how you died.

Send this bill to the two with the surname Chai.