Chapter 174

Chapter 174: Give Me Some Face

Three thousand Thunder-Seal Pills cost him 350 million starstones. He didn’t even wince.

He would use them first—everything else could wait.

Over the next three months, Wang Jie’s thunder pattern deepened into a darker, heavier brown, the lines on his skin looking less like scorch marks and more like hardened armor.

To reach the next stage, he would need at least ten thousand Thunder-Seal Pills.

He was still short six thousand.

And the market was empty.

If he wanted more, he’d have to place an order through Du Xian—along with the catastrophe materials he needed. The Star Vault Exchange’s reserves were unfathomable; whatever else was true, it was far richer than Black-White Heaven.

That day, when his shop reopened, it drew stares from every direction.

He’d been closed for months. Plenty of people had assumed he’d died.

Wang Jie sat inside, the star compass balanced in one hand.

He looked even more like a “master” now.

The moment he opened, someone rushed in, frantic and red-eyed. “Master, read my fortune!”

Wang Jie nearly laughed. It was the same stubborn man who’d blocked his door for days.

The intimidation had already worked. The three paths had cooled down. Wang Jie didn’t actually need to keep playing the fortune-teller.

But he could end this nuisance properly.

“Fated one,” Wang Jie said, adopting a solemn tone. “Fine. You must go far away.”

The man’s face collapsed. “I can’t! I can’t leave the Zhi Academy!”

His task was to reach a place twenty times farther than his current travel range—meaning he had to leave the Zhi Academy to complete it.

But he couldn’t.

Wang Jie put on a brief performance, “resolved” the problem in a way that sounded mysterious enough to satisfy the onlookers, and sent him away trembling with gratitude.

Not long after, a familiar figure stepped into the shop.

White robes. A bamboo hat. A veil that still revealed the outline of a stunning face.

“Master,” she said with a smile, “we meet again.”

Wang Jie’s eyes widened. “Su Le?”

“It’s me,” Su Le said. “Sorry to disturb Master.”

Wang Jie hadn’t expected her to come. Su Le was Bai Ye’s disciple—the disciple of a Pill Dao celestial master. He rose at once and greeted her warmly.

“Why would Miss Su visit me? Have you run into trouble again?”

“No trouble,” Su Le said, and produced a single Burststar Pill. “I’m curious about this.”

Wang Jie recognized it immediately. It was from the batch he’d sold to Du Xian.

“The Star Vault Exchange is selling these?” he asked.

“They don’t sell them,” Su Le said. “But my master has cooperation with the Star Vault Exchange. When they encounter something strange like this, they send some for research.”

“I see.”

Su Le’s gaze stayed fixed on him—bright, eager, and sharp. “I heard this pill came from Master.”

Wang Jie nodded and gestured toward his shelves.

Su Le took down a bottle, opened it, and studied the pills inside. When she looked up again, her eyes were practically shining. “Master truly can star-refine pills?”

“It takes study,” Wang Jie said carefully.

“Then study with me,” Su Le said at once. “Together.”

Wang Jie hesitated. For a moment, her enthusiasm reminded him too much of Master Luan.

He cleared his throat. “I can. But I have a hidden trouble to deal with first. Once I resolve it, I’ll find you.”

Su Le blinked. “There shouldn’t be any trouble left. Master’s methods are profound. Those people have already stopped targeting you.”

Wang Jie gave a helpless shrug. “Being hit without hitting back isn’t my style. And I have a friend who’s been imprisoned.”

Understanding clicked into place in Su Le’s eyes. “If I can guarantee that as long as Master doesn’t go looking for trouble, no one will go looking for trouble with Master… will Master research star-refining pills with me?”

“You can guarantee that?” Wang Jie asked.

“I can.”

“Fine,” Wang Jie said. “Prepare more strange starstone.”

Su Le smiled. “Of course.”

Right in front of him, she opened her personal terminal and placed a call.

“Master Bian.”

A pause. Then a voice answered, careful and respectful. “Miss Su?”

“I need a favor,” Su Le said, her tone turning crisp. “Release Master Wang Jie’s people. From this moment on, Master Wang Jie is under my protection. No one may act against him. If anyone harms Master, I will not forgive it.”

Silence on the line.

Then Master Bian spoke again, voice heavier. “Why does miss value Wang Jie so highly?”

Su Le’s smile vanished. Her voice went cold enough to frost glass. “Master Bian—give me some face.”

Another pause.

“…Fine,” Master Bian said at last.

Su Le made two more calls, then put her terminal away. When she turned back to Wang Jie, the warmth returned as if it had never left.

“Done.”

Wang Jie exhaled. “Thank you.”

“This is all part of the maneuvering in Zhi Upper Realm,” Su Le said. “It shouldn’t have dragged you in. Black-White Heaven is relatively open-minded—if Master reports this ability, Black-White Heaven will protect you.”

Wang Jie didn’t argue. Half the mess had started because he’d lit the fuse himself, but there was no reason to explain that to her.

Su Le left in high spirits, promising to prepare strange starstone and bring more pills for research.

Not long after, Wang Jie received a message from Mu Ran.

“Master, we’re out. Thank you for saving us.”

Wang Jie replied, “Come to the Four-Dao Market.”

“Yes.”

Elsewhere, Master Bian sneered. He’d already paused because Wang Jie was too strange, but it was difficult to explain to Zhi Upper Realm. Now Su Le had intervened openly, and the person behind her was Bai Ye. Master Bian didn’t dare offend that.

He immediately contacted his superiors.

Feng Hu and Xu Yang did the same.

The three dao leaders in the Zhi Academy could no longer act against Wang Jie directly.

Ji Zheng, however, walked out of He Tong Star and headed toward a different part of the market.

Master Bian could stop.

He wouldn’t.

If he couldn’t strike openly, he’d strike another way.

Wang Jie had to die.

Wang Jie counted it out. Of all the people he’d “tagged,” only two still hadn’t come. Either they’d completed their tasks, or they’d died, or they simply didn’t know he could resolve their trouble.

That happened. Yi Hao had been an accident—someone Wang Jie spotted passing by. The rest mostly came only after the rumors spread.

If you hadn’t heard, you wouldn’t come.

Wang Jie had three priorities now.

First: keep training—push his Star-Breaking Realm strength to its limit, absorb enough catastrophe materials, and naturally step into Full-Star Realm.

Second: truly stand firm in the Zhi Academy and strike back against Zhi Qing’s influence here, strengthening Zhi Xing Xue’s voice.

Third: make money. Ruthlessly. Everything he needed cost a fortune.

On that foundation, maintaining a good relationship with Su Le mattered. Her background could shield him and open doors.

And beyond all of it, he was still waiting for the Star Vault Vista’s assessment.

Everything required time.

But time was what he lacked most. The starry sky martial tournament wouldn’t wait for him.

He had to participate.

After months of living inside the shop, Wang Jie finally stepped out, thinking he might stay at an inn for a few nights—anything to breathe different air. Maybe even the same inn as Gao Chi, just to annoy him.

Then, not long after leaving, a familiar unease crawled up his spine.

Someone was watching him.

He’d walked the edge of death too many times not to trust that instinct.

The street was busy and loud. Whoever it was couldn’t strike here. Still, Wang Jie took out the star compass and fed it qi, expanding the range.

He saw the familiar fixed signatures nearby.

He saw Gao Chi’s qi in the inn, unmoving.

Nothing else.

He expanded farther.

Still nothing.

Farther.

There.

A surge of qi larger than Gao Chi’s—Roaming-Star Realm.

Wang Jie narrowed his eyes. A Roaming-Star Realm in the area wasn’t unusual.

Then he turned a corner.

The qi turned with him.

He stopped.

The qi stopped.

Always holding distance. Never too close. Never too far.

So it was tailing him.

Wang Jie kept walking as if browsing, glancing at stalls like a man killing time.

The qi followed.

It was stronger than Gao Chi’s, but not by much—Roaming-Star Realm, yes, yet not far beyond.

Wang Jie angled toward a quieter district and sent a message to Du Xian.

Du Xian replied immediately: “Guest, I’m not a bodyguard.”

“I’m buying intelligence,” Wang Jie sent back. “On the person following me.”

“Wait.”

The sun sank. Darkness pooled between buildings.

Wang Jie didn’t even know where he’d wandered when his terminal buzzed again.

Du Xian: “Guest is still leading him around?”

Wang Jie: “Yes.”

Du Xian: “Be careful. He’s an assassin—one of the four most famous in the Zhi Academy. The Jia, Yi, Bing, Ding set. He’s the ding designation. Estimated battle strength: 200,000. Add 20,000 because he specializes in assassination.”

Wang Jie’s mouth tightened.

“The Zhi Academy has assassins?” he typed. “Black-White Heaven allows that?”

Du Xian’s reply was cool. “Why wouldn’t they? What place has no grudges? And for certain lords, having assassins is convenient.”

So Zhi Qing’s side had answered Su Le’s protection with a knife in the dark.

Du Xian added, almost casually: “Two million starstones. Thank you.”

Wang Jie put the terminal away and walked deeper into the quiet.

Moonlight spilled across the ground in pale sheets, drawing his shadow long.

Ahead was a massive plant garden—private property, by the look of it.

Inside the star compass, the qi was close now, slightly behind him to the right.

It moved.

Wang Jie spun.

Thunder pattern erupted across his body. Lightning roared upward, shaking the street. The ground cracked, and windows shattered in distant buildings.

At the same moment, a pale face surfaced under the moonlight—expressionless, except for a flicker of surprise in the assassin’s eyes. A dagger spun in his hand, carving a thin white arc as it slashed into the lightning.

Sparks exploded.

Wang Jie struck with a palm aimed at the man’s face.

The assassin slipped aside in an instant. Wang Jie’s strike hit empty air—and the assassin was suddenly behind him, dagger stabbing down with a speed that made Wang Jie’s scalp tighten.

Jia Eight Steps.

The dagger missed. A gust struck from behind.

The assassin vanished again—and reappeared behind him once more.

Wang Jie whirled, thunder pattern flaring.

This time the dagger flashed above his head as if it had teleported there.

For a heartbeat, disbelief flashed through Wang Jie’s mind.

No speed limit?

Direct movement?

The dagger fell.

Wang Jie raised his arm.

Bang—his wrist guard took the blow. His body sank under the force. He clawed for the assassin’s forearm—and the assassin was gone.

Wang Jie’s eyes sharpened.

Not speed.

Borrowed force.