Chapter 64
Chapter 64: Never Erased
Once she entered the inner sect, everyone would understand that Shao Heng carried exceptional talent—and that would be her best protection.
“As for Ling Jiang’s inheritance, of course I’m still going to take a look,” she said, voice low. “They won’t start building the altar until the final month. There’s no rush.”
Ao Chuan still didn’t understand. He was clever by nature, but he’d seen too little. Captured only days after hatching, he’d never known the wider world beyond what Shao Heng showed him.
“If Ling Jiang was an ancient great expert beyond the Third Realm,” he asked, “wouldn’t others covet what she left behind? How could it survive for so long? Could there be a trap?”
Shao Heng shook her head. She found herself more patient with him lately—perhaps because he’d behaved since she mastered the fusion of sun, moon, and star power.
“The odds are low,” she said. “Ji Fei Guang’s words didn’t have any obvious holes.”
“The sect clearly shares this selectively, even among inner sect disciples. Ji Fei Guang and Ji Xuan Yin are probably both High-Grade aptitude, and both at the peak of the First Realm. They’re being groomed. That means the news about Ling Jiang’s inheritance is locked inside a small circle.”
She paused, eyes narrowing. “Still, I’m only mid-stage, yet they picked me. That’s what makes me wary. So I refused them for now.”
By the time she finished speaking, she’d left the lake area and reached a quiet stretch of land.
Shao Heng deployed her formation plate. Golden Smoke Locking Cloud warped the scenery, hiding her presence. Then she sat down cross-legged.
There were about four months left before they built the yin-qi altar. With just over 500 furnaces of power now—and qi this dense in the secret realm—she was confident she could push further, reach 600 furnaces, and step into late-stage First Realm.
Earlier, Ji Fei Guang had said he used a mind-confusing art on her, yet she hadn’t noticed a thing. In that respect, she truly wasn’t his equal.
But that was only for now.
Over the next four months, she would train the Great Expansion Spirit-Refining Art relentlessly. Coupled with the spirit-sense boost gained when breaking into late-stage, by the time she truly stepped into Ling Jiang’s inheritance ground, her spirit sense would no longer be weaker than anyone’s.
She meditated within the formation for about half an hour. Her spiritual power climbed back to 70 or 80 percent.
Then the formation shuddered.
Shao Heng’s eyes snapped open, cold light flaring in her gaze as she looked toward the disturbance.
Golden Smoke Locking Cloud was a Second-Grade formation. Normally, anyone below the Second Realm would have no way to handle it.
But most cultivators in this secret realm were inner sect disciples from two great immortal sects. Their aptitudes were strong. Their artifacts and arts were exceptional. Their combat strength was naturally terrifying.
And a formation plate, after all, was weaker than a complete formation. Hers was only low-tier Second Grade.
It really was possible someone could force their way in.
The formation’s illusions made it difficult to notice. And even if someone did notice, they should have understood it was deliberately set.
Forcing entry was pure malice.
Killing intent rose, sharp and clean, as Shao Heng focused on the figure outside.
A man.
Handsome, but arrogant. A jade ring hung at his waist. Silver boots gleamed at his feet. A gold-and-jade crown sat on his head. He looked less like a cultivator and more like a spoiled mortal young master drenched in wealth.
He was controlling a massive pill cauldron, driving it like a battering ram into her formation. The barrier held, but it trembled with each impact.
“Around 700 furnaces,” Shao Heng judged.
The Thousand-Strike Bow was already in her hand. Her right hand gripped the bow; her left didn’t rush to nock an arrow. Instead, she formed a seal and rotated the formation plate.
The formation’s defense weakened slightly.
At the same time, a tidal wave of golden sand surged outward.
The man’s skin brushed against only a speck.
He screamed.
Flesh blackened and rotted as if acid had been poured into the wound.
“Ah!”
He staggered back, face twisting. “Where did you crawl out from, you rat? Hiding your head and showing your tail, you dare play dirty tricks on me!”
His voice rose into a shout, arrogance hardening into rage. “I’m an inner sect disciple of the One Yuan Sect, under True Lord Guan Jing! Have you got a death wish?”
“If you’ve got the guts to hide in there, then come out of the formation!”
Shao Heng’s gaze flicked to the jade ring at his waist.
It flared.
A film of light spread around him, sealing off the corrosive golden sand before it could do more.
Shao Heng drew her bow and fired.
Three arrows struck the light barrier in rapid succession, detonating with sharp bursts. The barrier didn’t break—only a web of cracks spread across it.
“Petty tricks,” the man snarled. “Do you think I’m afraid of you?”
Shao Heng’s eyes cooled.
If he broke the formation and barged in while she was meditating and cycling power through her meridians, a single misstep would send her qi running backward.
At best, she would tear her tendons and bones. At worst, she would suffer qi deviation.
The thought made something vicious flicker between her brows.
The sun-glow within her really did diminish with every use. She needed to conserve it.
But she couldn’t retreat in every clash and cling to her trump card forever. If she did, she might as well live a lifetime of humiliation—saving every treasure for the Underworld, never daring to spend power while alive.
Sun, moon, and star forces gathered within her, fused, braided, compressed.
A dazzling arrow formed on the string, shimmering with prismatic light.
Its aura was cold and razor-sharp. So intense that even the artifact bow seemed close to breaking under it—the bow limbs trembling faintly.
Shao Heng held steady, eyes locked like a hawk’s.
The moment the arrow left the string, a locking art snapped into place. There was no time to dodge.
The man was still cursing, smug in his contempt—until his voice cut off.
A streak of colored light filled his vision. Every hair on his body stood up. His heart lurched.
“Grandmother, save me!”
He crushed a token in his hand.
A wisp of white smoke rose, then condensed into the faint outline of a tall woman. Her features were impossible to make out, blurred by the haze, yet the phantom reached out and caught Shao Heng’s arrow in her hand.
Shao Heng’s breath caught.
Her experience was limited. She didn’t recognize the method.
So she made the arrow detonate.
The explosion tore through the air. The woman’s phantom flickered, growing even more insubstantial.
Shao Heng didn’t hesitate. She put away the formation plate and fled with an escape art. At the same time, she left behind three moonlight Phantom Bodies that sprinted in different directions to lure pursuit.
The phantom’s voice rang out—aged, solemn, edged with weary helplessness.
“You little monkey,” it sighed, “causing trouble for this old lady again.”
Helpless as the words were, the phantom still waved a hand and wiped out the three Phantom Bodies as if brushing away dust.
Then she reached forward.
Shao Heng was already 40 or 50 li away.
The phantom seized her anyway—forcefully yanking her back through empty air until Shao Heng hung before it, suspended like prey.
Just as the phantom moved to act again, colored motes of light began flashing constantly across the hand that had caught the arrow.
That prismatic power was still there.
Unable to heal.
Even on a phantom.
It was quietly consuming the power stored in the token, gnawing it down with relentless patience. And pulling Shao Heng back from that distance had spent even more energy, as if the phantom were straining against an unseen tether to its owner.
Shao Heng’s eyes ignited.
She turned ruthless.
With a sweep of her right hand, a prismatic ribbon of light slammed into the phantom.
It was only a phantom. The stored power couldn’t be much.
After a breath or two of resistance, the figure shattered and dispersed like smoke blown apart by wind.
Shao Heng clenched her hand.
The scattered colored motes condensed again, snapping into four arrows that shot straight toward the man.
Only then did she fully grasp the new power born from fusing sun, moon, and star forces. The reason it prevented wounds from healing was a special property it carried—impossible to wear down.
Once condensed, it did not disappear unless she deliberately broke it apart.
And when the phantom vanished, the power that returned to her control hadn’t diminished in the slightest.
Lu Tian Xiang’s face had gone ashen. From his frantic movements, it was clear he wasn’t skilled in combat. Protective artifacts shattered one after another. The arrows pinned his limbs to the ground.
He could no longer resist.
Shao Heng planted her stance wide and solid. She stepped forward and ground one foot into Lu Tian Xiang’s face, twisting his cheek into the dirt.
“Speak.”
She’d never encountered a token phantom like that before. If she didn’t understand it now, she might walk into disaster later.
Lu Tian Xiang trembled. When he realized she hadn’t killed him immediately, a wave of relief hit him—and then bitter terror at his own luck.
“M-my lady,” he stammered, voice breaking, “spare me!”