Chapter 145

Chapter 145: Invisible Blade Qi

Wang Jie lifted his foot and stamped down.

The mountaintop shattered, stone and dust blasting outward. From the broken shadows below, someone shot up and fled at full speed.

A Full-Star Realm expert—cultivation on par with Fu An. Not weak in the slightest, and terrifyingly skilled at hiding.

If Wang Jie hadn’t cultivated Qi Sight, he would never have noticed him.

So everything earlier really had been a decoy. Zong Cheng Ping’s true trump card was this man.

Every move Zong made had been for this final pincer—closing in on Wang Jie from both sides.

Fu An and Lie Qiu hadn’t known a thing.

Too bad. Wang Jie had seen through it anyway.

Zong Cheng Ping drew a long, steady breath. “Brother, we fought once in Yi Sword Heaven. Neither of us won.”

“Today, I’m forced to make a move. Whether I live or die, it’s only to give those above an explanation. I hope you won’t blame me.”

Wang Jie smiled. “Then come. Let me learn from you.”

“One move will decide it. Lone Star Full-Moon Wheel!”

“Myriad-Stars Finger Art.”

The wheel shrieked forward, spinning so fast it tore the canyon apart. The desert split in an instant—and in the blink of an eye, the world became a field of revolving stars.

One after another, the stars wheeled overhead, pressing down with an immense, crushing force.

A finger phantom struck within that starfield.

With that single phantom, the flying wheel froze in midair. More finger phantoms followed, streaking toward Zong Cheng Ping.

Zong Cheng Ping flicked his wrist. From his palm, the tip of a broken blade shot out—a dull shard flying straight at Wang Jie.

Wang Jie saw it. His finger phantom pressed down and shattered it—

And from the shattered shard, another identical blade tip formed and lunged at him even faster.

This one couldn’t be seen with the naked eye.

Because it was qi.

Wang Jie stared as it closed in. Qi?

It was blade qi.

Not the crude blade qi an ordinary cultivator could slash out with brute force. This was the qi of the blade itself.

People had human qi. Blades had blade qi.

If you didn’t cultivate qi, you couldn’t see it.

Wang Jie hadn’t expected to encounter a weapon that carried qi here. The weapon itself had been destroyed long ago, yet its qi remained.

If he hadn’t cultivated qi, he would have died in the next heartbeat.

Vicious. Truly vicious.

Zong Cheng Ping watched him without blinking. He’d fought the Myriad-Stars Finger Art before and knew he couldn’t win head-on.

So he’d layered traps.

First, the obvious encirclement—the kind meant to be seen—so Wang Jie would counter-hunt them and feel like he’d seized the advantage.

Advantage became looseness.

Then the hidden man—the second trap. Even if Wang Jie noticed him, it still created the same effect: another sense of control, another moment to relax.

Only then came the real killing blow: this invisible blade qi.

A gift from his Master, brought back from Star-Cloud Battlefield—an unseen, lethal force.

If he’d used it too early, Wang Jie’s guard would have risen. The blade tip looked too ordinary, and in a fight like this, anything ordinary was suspicious.

But after two rounds of easing Wang Jie’s vigilance, Zong Cheng Ping judged the timing perfect.

He had no fourth move. This had to work.

Finger phantoms rained down from above. Zong Cheng Ping ignored them. He was willing to take the damage—willing to cripple himself—so long as Wang Jie didn’t dodge.

The finger phantoms fell.

The blade qi closed in.

Under Zong Cheng Ping’s locked gaze, Wang Jie shifted his body aside.

The invisible blade qi cut through empty air and vanished into the distance.

Zong Cheng Ping’s pupils snapped tight.

The finger phantoms slammed down. The ground collapsed. One after another, they crushed through the earth, pulverizing the canyon until the entire area was flattened into ruin.

Outside the canyon, Fu An and the others stared, tense and hopeful, praying Zong Cheng Ping had succeeded.

Dust surged into the sky like a gray dragon, then scattered on the wind.

Wang Jie stood at the edge of the shattered canyon and looked down.

Zong Cheng Ping had taken the full force of the Myriad-Stars Finger Art. It wasn’t that fused, peak strike Wang Jie had used to kill Nie Zhou, but it was still brutal—more than enough to leave Zong Cheng Ping grievously wounded.

From beneath broken stone, Zong Cheng Ping dragged himself out. He dropped to one knee and coughed blood.

Wang Jie walked down and stopped in front of him, watching in silence.

Zong Cheng Ping panted, wiped the blood from his mouth, and looked up into Wang Jie’s calm eyes with a bitter smile. “I still lost.”

“Brother… you’re impressive.”

Wang Jie studied him. “And I didn’t expect you to have so many tricks.”

Zong Cheng Ping’s voice was hoarse. “How did you know something was wrong with that blade tip?”

Wang Jie frowned. “What was wrong with it?”

Zong Cheng Ping froze. He’d assumed Wang Jie knew about the invisible killing force.

Wang Jie added, almost casually, “I just felt danger and stepped aside.”

Zong Cheng Ping stared, trying to read his face. At this point, he couldn’t tell whether Wang Jie was telling the truth—and it didn’t matter. The result was the result.

Wang Jie’s gaze sharpened. “Now it’s your turn.”

“Buy your life. Let’s see what you think you’re worth.”

Zong Cheng Ping narrowed his eyes. “You’re not killing me?”

Wang Jie’s voice turned cold. “I want to. But Cui Si was right—if I kill you, someone else will come.”

“Better to keep you alive. You don’t want to be dragged to Star-Cloud Battlefield, or abandoned by Black-White Heaven, do you?”

Zong Cheng Ping held Wang Jie’s gaze for a long moment, then sat down cross-legged, bleeding freely. “So my life was saved by that coward Cui Si.”

He threw down a pile of storage rings.

Wang Jie blinked. “You prepared this in advance?”

Zong Cheng Ping gave a helpless laugh. “You only have one life. Who wouldn’t?”

“I’m cautious.”

Wang Jie checked what he’d been given—and his mood lifted. The materials were more than double what Lie Qiu had handed over.

It meant he could deepen two more imprints all the way to Tianfan.

A pleasant surprise.

Zong Cheng Ping sagged, sounding drained. “Brother, years of my savings—gone in one day. Satisfied?”

Wang Jie shook his head. “Not quite.”

Zong Cheng Ping looked genuinely confused. “What do you need that much material for?”

“I’m a Chen Refiner,” Wang Jie said. “I’m trying to carve out a future for lockforce cultivators.”

Zong Cheng Ping’s eyes changed.

Wang Jie had only said it as a convenient answer—something he’d come up with back in Shuanghua Sect to brush off nosy questions.

He didn’t understand what it sounded like to someone who’d been trapped for countless years by the rule that lockforce cultivators had no future.

It was like a cripple hearing there might be a cure. Like a blind man being told he could see again.

If an ordinary lockforce cultivator said something like that, no one would care—not even if that cultivator could defeat Full-Star Realm experts with only Ten Seals.

But Wang Jie was a Chen Refiner.

To the great sects, even a Ten Seals Chen Refiner was a treasure worthy of a Guest Elder’s seat.

Lockforce cultivators, meanwhile, were the bottom layer—cheap and disposable.

A Chen Refiner who was also a lockforce cultivator… that alone was enough to shake people.

Zong Cheng Ping’s voice went tight. “You’re serious?”

Wang Jie pocketed the storage rings and dusted off his clothes. “Of course. I cultivate lockforce too. I have to think about myself.”

Zong Cheng Ping tried to speak, but a gust of wind set him coughing again. Blood dripped onto the stone.

When he finally caught his breath, Wang Jie said, “This only buys you one life. If there’s a next time, I won’t spare you.”

“It won’t happen,” Zong Cheng Ping said quickly. “Absolutely not.”

Wang Jie didn’t believe a word of it—but he wasn’t the man he’d been during Blue Star’s apocalypse, a killer who knew only revenge. Now he had to think further ahead.

Zong Cheng Ping forced out, “But even if we failed, Wu Yun won’t give up. Someone stands behind her. I don’t know who, but their status is high. Everything we’ve gathered these years has been handed over.”

“Wu Yun?” Wang Jie repeated.

“She’s from Steward Hall. A Roaming-Star Realm expert. I’ve heard she even knows my Master, Xiao Rong.”

“And she ordered you to kill me?”

“Yes. That woman is vicious. Be careful.”

“Let me speak to her.”

Zong Cheng Ping stared. “You want to talk to Wu Yun?”

Wang Jie nodded, grabbed him by the shoulder, and left.

They couldn’t talk here. They had to go to Nebula Stream.

It was the same shop. The same little attendant who usually ignored people.

Yet the moment he saw Wang Jie, the man’s face split into a grin. Tea, snacks, water—he ran around like he’d been waiting all day.

Whatever Zhi Xing Xue’s status was in the Zhi family, that was business for the top. It wasn’t the attendant’s place to guess.

And even if he tried to pick sides, the people on the other side wouldn’t care about a nobody like him.

“How long?” Wang Jie asked.

Zong Cheng Ping watched the attendant fawn over Wang Jie and felt strange—he never got this treatment. At best, he could cut in line. “Half an hour.”

“Enough,” Wang Jie told the attendant. “Go do your job.”

The attendant hurried away.

Zong Cheng Ping studied Wang Jie. “Your backer has a high status.”

“At least an elder,” he added quietly. “Otherwise that man wouldn’t be so polite.”

“Zhi family,” Wang Jie said bluntly.

Zong Cheng Ping’s eyes widened. Then his expression sank. “Then Wu Yun’s backer is also Zhi family.”

It made sense. If she didn’t have the Zhi family behind her, she’d never dare strike at Wang Jie.

Even a little attendant could tell Wang Jie had powerful support. Wu Yun couldn’t possibly be ignorant.

“So everything that’s happened lately—everything shaking Suo Xing Jian’s balance—was just two people in the Zhi family fighting each other.”

Wang Jie nodded. “That’s not wrong.”

Not long after, the call connected.

Wu Yun’s voice came through, sharp and impatient. “Well? Is he dead?”

Zong Cheng Ping looked at Wang Jie.

Wang Jie leaned in with a smile. “Sorry. Not yet.”

A pause. “Wang Jie?”

“It’s me,” Wang Jie said. “Your Uncle Wang.”

Wu Yun’s voice dropped, anger pressed down into a cold edge. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“And do you know who you’re talking to?” Wang Jie shot back.

Zong Cheng Ping listened in silence, stunned. He’d never heard anyone dare talk to Wu Yun like this. Not even his Master.

“Where’s Zong Cheng Ping?” Wu Yun demanded. “Dead?”

“Half-dead,” Wang Jie said.

“Useless trash.”

Wang Jie glanced at Zong Cheng Ping with amused curiosity. Zong Cheng Ping didn’t react. It wasn’t the first time he’d been cursed.

“Wang Jie,” Wu Yun said, voice hard, “do you know what you’re doing? Do you know who your opponent is?”

“What, your great-grandmother?” Wang Jie said lightly.

“Insolent.”

“If you’ve got the guts, come,” Wang Jie said. “I’ll be waiting.”

“I have ten thousand ways to make you wish you were dead.”

“Name one.”

“I can forcibly conscript you to Star-Cloud Battlefield.”

Wang Jie flicked his gaze to Zong Cheng Ping.

Zong Cheng Ping shook his head once.

Wang Jie smiled into the terminal. “I don’t believe you.”

Wu Yun snapped, “That’s Steward Hall’s authority.”

“I don’t care what hall you’re from,” Wang Jie said. “Your Uncle Wang has Grand Elder Zhi Xing Xue behind him.”

Silence.