Chapter 259

Chapter 259: Long Time No See

Wang Jie remembered the Ten Seals clearly.

He had reached the limit three times.

The first time, his strength peaked at sixty-five times.

The second time, eighty-nine times.

The third time, ninety-nine times.

Now he’d broken through the first limit. With his exercises, he could reach the Star-Breaking Realm’s eighty-nine-times strength.

But that wasn’t the extreme he wanted.

Ninety-nine times—that was the true peak.

His body tempering should also reach a ninety-nine-times state.

As for breaking through beyond that… he didn’t dare hope.

That woman wasn’t going to appear again.

Right?

Hou Xiao came again, unwilling to let go.

Wang Jie looked at her. “Help me find Luo Kui.”

“Why?”

“I’ll become a mole.”

Hou Xiao’s face twisted with disdain. “I said I could keep you alive. And you still want to become a mole? Wang Jie, I despise you.”

Wang Jie’s gaze dulled, as if something inside him had gone quiet. “You’re a proud daughter of heaven. You’ve never understood what it’s like for people like us.

Fang He abandoned me on purpose. I have to repay that debt.

As for what becoming a mole leads to… at worst, I die.

If I stay here, I die anyway.”

He looked away. “I’d rather die on the battlefield.”

Hou Xiao blinked. “Why does that sound so strange coming from you?”

“Go,” Wang Jie said.

Hou Xiao crossed her arms. “Then teach me the next part of Yi Sword Art.”

Wang Jie closed his eyes and didn’t answer.

Hou Xiao muttered a few more jabs, got no reaction, rolled her eyes, and finally went to find Luo Kui.

Not long after, Luo Kui arrived and stared at Wang Jie. “You’ve thought it through?”

Wang Jie met his gaze. “I have. I’ll become a mole.”

Luo Kui’s shoulders loosened by a fraction.

Good.

This had dragged on long enough.

Killing Wang Jie was not an option.

Releasing him openly was not an option.

Bringing him back to the Ancient Sword Bridge-Pillar was also something no one wanted—no one wanted Zhong Yi’s attention turning their way again.

So what was left?

Keeping him imprisoned forever?

And if Zhong Yi came looking?

Every path led to trouble.

If Wang Jie returned to Black-White Heaven as a mole, it solved everything. The Edge Sect could “explain” his disappearance as mission work, extract value from him, and avoid the burden of keeping him.

And if Zhong Yi ever came… she would look for Black-White Heaven, not the Edge Sect. After all, Wang Jie would be “free,” not dead, not captured.

They simply needed him gone.

“Once you become a mole, we plant a restriction,” Luo Kui said. “You understand that, yes?”

“I understand.”

“Good.” Luo Kui’s tone hardened. “Don’t think about betraying us. If you do, you’ll die miserably.”

The threat felt oddly light, given the situation.

Luo Kui added, “And don’t think someone can remove it for you. If it could be removed, the Edge Sect wouldn’t have so many moles. It’s the same for Black-White Heaven—we can’t remove theirs either.”

Wang Jie’s voice was steady. “I’ll become a mole. But I have a condition.”

Luo Kui almost laughed. “You have a condition?”

The words came out reflexively. Then he realized what he’d already admitted by showing up here.

Wang Jie had to be released.

Conditions would be dealt with.

Wang Jie said, “If you don’t agree, don’t release me.”

Luo Kui’s eyes sharpened. “Say it.”

“A thousand swords made of sixth-grade materials.”

Luo Kui’s expression shifted.

Wang Jie continued calmly. “Three hundred swords made of seventh-grade materials.”

“Are you insane?” Luo Kui blurted.

Wang Jie kept going. “Two sets of Five Tribulations defensive Chen artifact.

Five thousand revival pills.

One hundred Dao-Enlightenment Pills.

Two hundred swiftstep pills.

And all kinds of Formation Scrolls—”

“Enough.” Luo Kui cut him off, staring as if Wang Jie had grown a second head. “Are you joking?”

“You can bargain,” Wang Jie said.

“Bargain? With you? Why would I give you any of that?”

“Because I’ll work for you.”

“That’s buying your life.”

Wang Jie’s eyes didn’t move. “I’m not afraid to die.”

“Then why become a mole?”

Wang Jie exhaled. “I miss home.”

Luo Kui froze, suddenly without words.

Wang Jie watched him carefully.

The outrageous list had been a test.

Under normal circumstances, Luo Kui would have killed him for daring to speak like this.

But Luo Kui argued. Luo Kui hesitated. Luo Kui didn’t strike.

There was only one explanation.

The Edge Sect wanted him gone as much as he wanted out.

Luo Kui’s gaze shifted, and Wang Jie knew he’d understood. His own bottom line had been exposed.

With a tight expression, Luo Kui turned and left.

Not long after, the Hundred-Star Realm elder arrived.

Wang Jie looked up. “So you agreed?”

The elder smiled, almost indulgent. “Little kid, you can earn some benefits by working for us. But don’t be excessive. How much—you don’t decide.

If you insist on excess, you’ll stay here. We won’t kill you, but you won’t leave, and you won’t cultivate.”

Wang Jie understood restraint. “Fine. I want swords.”

“What do you need so many swords for?”

“War spoils.”

The elder snorted. “Nonsense. But swords are easy. We’ll give you three hundred sixth-grade swords. And I will personally give you one seventh-grade sword—Shao Gui. Forget the rest.”

Wang Jie’s eyes flashed. “Thank you, Senior.”

The elder also handed him an identity token representing the Edge Sect—insurance against being killed by mistake if he crossed paths with an Edge Sect powerhouse.

This identity token was clearly not ordinary.

Wang Jie could tell at a glance it wasn’t the same as the tokens given to ordinary moles.

Then came the restriction.

The elder produced a drop of substance that looked like mercury.

“This is a substance unique to our Ancient Sword Bridge-Pillar,” the elder said. “It’s extremely sensitive to outside force. If any foreign force approaches, it will flee wildly.

Don’t try to have someone remove it. If you do, the one who suffers will be you.”

Wang Jie asked, “How can you remove it?”

“Earn merit,” the elder said. “Great merit. Or when the term ends, we remove it for you.”

The mercury slipped into Wang Jie’s body and vanished instantly.

Wang Jie shuddered. Something else was inside him now—more alive even than the sword thread.

The elder led him to the edge of a planet fragment. “How will you return?”

Wang Jie’s storage ring was returned. Fresh air—if fog and cold counted as fresh—hit him like a gift.

He looked out into the haze. “How do other moles return?”

“We toss them somewhere,” the elder said. “If they can hide it, they hide it. If they can’t, they can’t.”

“Do the same to me.”

The elder studied him. “You don’t want us to coordinate?”

Wang Jie shrugged. “The more you coordinate, the more obvious it becomes. Too many people saw me struck into the Cloudstream. If I’m alive, the only believable reason is that I was captured.”

The elder nodded. “As you wish.”

With that, Wang Jie was thrown to a location near the Cloudstream—close enough that Black-White Heaven cultivators would find him quickly if he stayed put.

Back at the Edge Sect Command Hub, the atmosphere finally eased.

Even Luo Kui felt stifled. He’d captured Wang Jie, yet it had felt like they were begging the boy to leave.

Hou Xiao was the most regretful of all—she still hadn’t learned the later parts of Yi Sword Art.

—

On the lonely planet fragment where he’d landed, Wang Jie sat cross-legged and focused inward.

The mercury was sensitive to outside force.

But sword thread was already inside him.

And as if by fate, the mercury had settled right beside the sword thread.

Wang Jie guided the sword thread, pinned the mercury in place, and—without hesitation—pierced it.

He forced it out of his body.

His arm tore open as the mercury burst free, mixing with blood as it dripped to the ground.

Wang Jie exhaled and glanced at the wound.

External. Not severe.

The mercury, once removed, lost all vitality. It turned gray, like dull stone.

When Wang Jie crushed it underfoot, it crumbled to dust.

The restriction was gone.

Inner Tempered Sword-Thread worked.

Now…

Fang He.

—

“There’s someone ahead. Be careful.”

A voice called through the fog.

Wang Jie straightened, letting his posture show no weakness. “I am Wang Jie. May I ask if you are a fellow sect brother?”

A startled response came at once. “Rain-Slaying God?”

Black-White Heaven’s Command Hub shook.

The man everyone had watched fall into the Cloudstream—the man they’d confirmed dead—had returned.

News tore through the camp like a storm. Those who heard it froze, including Xiao Rong and the others.

They had watched Wang Jie plunge into the Cloudstream.

How could he be alive?

The first thought came to everyone at once.

He must have been saved.

And there was only one side that could do that.

The Edge Sect.

So…

Had he become a mole?

That suspicion burned in every gaze as they watched him.

If the Edge Sect had captured him, why would he dare return?

Unless…

Unless returning was the point.

In a quiet area near the Command Hub, Chief Huntsman Shuang Jin stood with Elder Wu and Elder Mo, staring at Wang Jie as if trying to peel the truth from his skin.

Wang Jie bowed. “Disciple Wang Jie. I completed the mission and report to the Chief Huntsman.”

Elder Mo frowned and circled him once, eyes sharp.

Wang Jie held his bow without moving.

Elder Mo’s voice was tight. “You’re still alive?”

“By luck,” Wang Jie said calmly.

Elder Wu couldn’t hold back. “How? Didn’t you fall into the Cloudstream?”

Wang Jie lifted his head. “Before I explain, disciple has something to ask the Chief Huntsman to judge.”

Chief Huntsman Shuang Jin’s gaze didn’t waver. “Speak.”

Wang Jie straightened, eyes turning cold. “Disciple accuses Fang He of fleeing in battle, deliberately sending disciple into the deadland and abandoning hundreds of thousands of cultivators. His actions are shameless. His crime deserves death.”

Outside the Command Hub, Fang He returned—and immediately sensed something wrong.

A friendly disciple rushed up and grabbed his arm. “Wang Jie is back.”

Fang He’s mind rang like a hammer blow. He couldn’t believe it.

Then Chief Huntsman Shuang Jin’s voice carried over the fog. “Fang He. Come here.”

Fang He swallowed hard and walked forward, face stiff.

He saw Wang Jie’s back first.

Then Wang Jie turned.

The face was real. The eyes were real.

Wang Jie gave him a faint, chilling smile. “Senior Brother Fang He. Long time no see. Are you well?”

Fang He stared, frozen. His fist clenched—then relaxed.

He forced a smile onto his face. “So it’s Junior Brother Wang Jie. You didn’t die? That’s wonderful.”

Wang Jie’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “If I’d died, I wouldn’t be here to accuse you of fleeing.”

Fang He’s pupils shrank. His expression twisted, then snapped into fury. “Fleeing? What nonsense are you spouting, Wang Jie?”

Wang Jie stared at him, unblinking. “Isn’t it true? You could have stopped Luo Kui, but you ran. I held out under Luo Kui’s assault for a long time and never once saw you return to rescue me.”

Fang He’s gaze turned dark. “Junior Brother Wang, were you beaten stupid? You’re talking nonsense. And how did you come back? I saw you fall into the Cloudstream with my own eyes—you shouldn’t be alive.

The only possibility is that you became an Edge Sect mole. Luo Kui saved you, didn’t he? You came back to sow discord.”