The night was as black as ink, heavy with mist.
Shen stood in the shadows of a stone wall, one hand gripping a vine root, the other holding a thin needle. He remained motionless, eyes locked on the formation barrier surrounding the outskirts of Huanshui Hall.
—This was the first time since coming to this world that he had willingly infiltrated enemy territory.
He wasn't here to kill.
He was here to steal something:
> The formula for "Blood Serpent Powder."
An ancient toxic recipe, its ingredients secretive, but rumored to temporarily numb the spiritual sense of Foundation Stage cultivators—giving a mortal like him a rare advantage.
In three days, a shipment of venomous herbs would arrive at the sect. But the actual formula was hidden inside the Forbidden Pavilion of the Eastern Poison Wing.
Tonight was the only "unguarded window" he had discovered—no elders were posted on rotation.
Shen took a deep breath and flipped down the cliff.
He had no cultivation. No flight. No power to break formations.
All he could rely on were the three fundamental skills of an assassin:
1. Concealment (Breath control + silent movement)
2. Disarmament (Knowledge of traps and mechanisms)
3. Adaptability (Split-second reflexes + tactical awareness)
---
After slipping past the outer patrols, he crawled for several meters across a slope of loose gravel, finally arriving at a low, narrow window.
Inside, he heard the faint sounds of alchemy—poison being refined. The cauldron hummed. Lamplight flickered.
He silently drew a bone-crafted spike and slid it between cracks in the stone wall—
Click.
A hand-sized compartment popped open, revealing a pale yellow scroll.
He reached out—
Snap.
A sudden pulse of spiritual light flared deep within the chamber!
Trap triggered.
"Who's there?!"
Two spirit cultivators burst through the corridor doors.
Unfazed, Shen slid out the window, gliding several meters into the night, then vanished into a pre-prepared aura-concealment array.
But before three breaths passed, a slim silhouette landed silently in front of him—blocking his escape.
It was her.
Qilin.
Their eyes met.
Shen's forehead glistened with cold sweat, yet he made no sound. Slowly, he slipped the dagger back into his sleeve.
"Why are you here?" she asked softly.
"To take something."
"From the Forbidden Pavilion?"
Shen nodded.
She paused for two breaths. Then asked, "What is it you want?"
Shen didn't lie. "The original formula for Blood Serpent Powder."
Qilin stared at him for a long time. Then she reached into her robes and tossed him a small jade slip.
"This is it."
Shen froze for a moment before catching it.
"…Why are you giving this to me?"
"You have to survive," she said quietly. "I… want to see how far you'll go."
Shen stood stunned.
In that moment, the wind seemed to fall silent. Even the lights in the distant hall dimmed.
"You're not afraid I'll betray you?" he asked.
"I'm afraid you won't be ruthless enough."
With that, her figure flickered and vanished once more into the mist.
Only Shen was left standing in the darkness, staring down at the jade slip in his palm, speechless for a long time.
---
Back at the ruined temple.
He hid the jade slip carefully, then lit a pile of hay in the corner. As flames crackled, he took out the newly refined poison powder and murmured:
> "Good… Now it's time for the prey to bite back."