Most cultivation sects maintained an ancestral hall, a sanctum housing the spirit tablets of past generations for worship.

However, the more powerful factions went a step further. They safeguarded the [Soul Papers] of their elite members, assigning disciples to monitor them in shifts. Any fluctuation in the paper was reported immediately.

[Soul Paper] was a unique artifact, impervious to water and mundane fire. Crafted by master refiners, it was a white sheet infused with a cultivator’s biological essence—hair, nails, blood, saliva, and spiritual energy.

The paper was a direct tether to the owner’s vitality. If the master weakened, the paper shrank. If they recovered, it expanded. If they died, it crumbled into ash.

Crucially, without external interference, a Soul Paper would slowly drift toward its host like a compass needle seeking north. It was the premier life-tracking tool in the cultivation world.

The forest was a suffocating maze of tangled vines and towering wormwood. The canopy was so dense that it blotted out the sun, plunging the grove into a perpetual, murky twilight.

Li Qingdu and his twelve subordinates stood in the clearing, their postures relaxed. At their feet, the five captives from the Immortal Crane Sect lay in a heap, unconscious and discarded like refuse.

“Well done, everyone.”

Li Qingdu scanned the perimeter, a rare smile gracing his lips. “We proceed as planned. Set the formation.”

“Understood!”

The group dispersed with practiced efficiency, covering a ten-mile radius.

They had rehearsed the placement of the array flags on the spirit boat. Now, they moved with clockwork precision. In less than fifteen minutes, the perimeter was secured.

Li Qingdu injected his spiritual energy into the control core. The air shimmered briefly as the trapping array—hidden deep within the foliage—hummed to life.

The plan was simple, brutal, and vindictive.

First, capture Yang Zhen alive. Second, torture him to trigger a distress reaction in his Soul Paper back at the sect. Third, use this bait to lure out Sect Leader You Ye. Finally, activate the trap and butcher them all.

Phase one was complete.

“Senior, what should we do with the excess baggage?” a loose cultivator asked, gesturing to the pile of bodies.

All eyes turned to the unconscious captives.

Three were young Qi Refining disciples—likely inner sect elites given their age and attire. The other two were Yang Zhen and a middle-aged elder in cyan robes, both Foundation Establishment experts.

Li Qingdu looked down at them, his eyes devoid of warmth.

“Hmph. We don’t need this much bait.”

He lashed out with three swift palm strikes.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The heads of the two young women and the teenage boy exploded like overripe watermelons. Red and white mist sprayed across the clearing as their headless corpses slumped into the mud.

“Swoosh!”

Li Qingdu didn’t pause. He drew a fine ritual sword and swung it twice.

Two arms—one from Yang Zhen, one from the Elder—were severed at the shoulder, spinning through the air.

“AHHHH!”

The agony of amputation tore the two men from their unconsciousness. They woke screaming, the sound raw and bestial.

“Ah! Xiao Lian!” Yang Zhen’s vision cleared enough to see the headless body of his junior sister next to him. He let out a wail of pure grief.

Then, he looked up. His bloodshot eyes swept over the thirteen masked figures surrounding him.

“You sons of bitches!” Yang Zhen roared, spit flying from his mouth. “You think hiding your faces will save you? Running dogs of the Wuji Sect! Animals!”

“Heh.”

Li Qingdu chuckled darkly. He reached up and slowly pulled down his black face covering.

“Kid,” Li Qingdu said, staring down with mocking pity. “When you acted so arrogantly that day, you should have expected a reckoning.”

“It really is you!” Yang Zhen’s forehead veins bulged, his face turning purple with rage.

Beside him, the cyan-robed Elder spat a mouthful of blood and glared. “Li Qingdu! You mad dog! Cut the crap. I’m unlucky to fall into your hands. If you want to kill me, do it!”

“No rush,” Li Qingdu said, straightening his robes. “I worry you’ll be lonely on the road to the Yellow Springs. I’ll wait for You Ye to arrive, so I can send the whole sect off together.”

“You?!” The Elder’s face went rigid. “Yang Zhen! He’s using us to bait the Sect Leader! We cannot let him succeed!”

The Elder squeezed his eyes shut. Spiritual energy surged violently within his body, reversing its flow and crashing toward his dantian.

He was attempting to self-destruct.

But Li Qingdu had anticipated this. He blurred into motion, his finger striking a paralyzing acupoint on the Elder’s abdomen. The surging energy instantly stagnated.

Before the Elder could struggle, Li Qingdu forced a jaw-locking pill down his throat. He repeated the process with Yang Zhen, who was also winding up for a suicide attempt.

The drug took effect instantly. Their eyes rolled back, and they slumped into a chemical coma.

Li Qingdu stood up, wiping his hands. “Hmph. Dying isn’t that easy. The weak have no right to choose how their lives end.”

The surrounding cultivators watched in silence.

“Alright,” Li Qingdu said, his voice dropping to a serious register. “The real fight starts now. Rest and recover. When You Ye arrives, make sure he never leaves.”

“Yes!”

The group scattered to meditate and prepare.

Qin Lu sat with the Gu siblings near the edge of the clearing. They were uninjured and relatively relaxed, though the smell of blood hung heavy in the air.

Gu Can was whispering excitedly, re-enacting moves from the previous skirmish. Qin Lu remained silent, his mind a whir of calculations.

Intelligence reports stated the Immortal Crane Sect had four Foundation Establishment cultivators: Sect Leader You Ye, two Elders, and one Guest Elder.

They had captured one Elder. That left You Ye and potentially two others.

We have four Foundation Establishment fighters. They have three at most. Four against three… the odds are good.

Unless You Ye senses the trap and brings outside help.

The market has been flooded with loose cultivators recently. Any one of them could be a Dragon Tiger Sect spy. If word leaked…

Qin Lu’s paranoia was interrupted by the approach of Wu Zheng and Lu Anchen.

Wu Zheng cupped his hands in a deep, formal bow. “Fellow Daoist Gu, thank you for the rescue.”

Gu Yue returned the bow with a graceful, practiced smile that completely belied the slaughter she had just participated in. “Fellow Daoist Wu is too polite. Anyone would have done the same.”

“Perhaps, but I still owe you my life.”

They fell into conversation, and the details of the earlier chaotic fight emerged.

Wu Zheng had spotted the enemy and triggered the [Wolf Smoke Talisman] immediately. However, the Immortal Crane Sect group had been sharp; they realized something was wrong instantly and tried to flee.

To prevent the plan from failing, Wu Zheng had forced an engagement to pin them down, leading to the desperate struggle Qin Lu had walked in on.

“They were fiercer than I expected,” Wu Zheng admitted, glancing at his meditating loose cultivator ally, who was still nursing a heavy wound.

Time crawled by.

Half an hour later, a streak of light cut through the canopy. Shen Changbai, who had been on scout duty, landed heavily in the clearing.

“Contact,” he said, his voice grim. “A flying vessel is approaching from the north. It’s heading straight for us.”

The atmosphere in the clearing snapped from relaxed to lethal in a heartbeat.

Thirteen cultivators gripped their weapons, their knuckles white. They melted into the shadows of the formation, waiting.

The rabbit had arrived.