Chapter Thirty-Five: Evasion

Ji Xun left the gambling house and, after weaving through several winding streets, entered a secluded alley. The area was desolate, surrounded by dilapidated houses—clearly the quarters of human slaves, a place rarely visited by demons.

Once he was certain there was no one around, he used the Demon Refining Vessel to absorb all traces of demon aura from his body. Even the faint serpent demon aura lingering on him was drawn into the vessel. He removed his mask, placed his cultivation method inside the vessel, and subtly altered his appearance. Now, he seemed no different from an ordinary person, save for the vigor pulsing through his blood. Unless confronted by a demon of the upper third rank, no one could discern his true identity.

Although the town was relatively safe, caution was never misplaced in such places; a little extra effort was a small price for security.

Shortly after his departure, a figure clad in black robes arrived at the spot he had just vacated.

“Vanished? He actually vanished?” the black-robed man murmured. “A fellow with a trace of Dragonborn blood who happened to acquire a serpent demon bearing a sliver of Man Tian bloodline—such coincidence. Man Tian’s prophecy demands extra effort, but it’s not to be missed.”

“But where could he have gone?” The next moment, a golden tortoise shell appeared in his hand. Three carved lines faintly corresponded to heaven, earth, and man. The shell’s back bore markings reminiscent of a nine-palace grid, spiritual patterns flickering in and out of view.

He shook the shell several times, and five ancient coins dropped to the ground. The black-robed man then pursued a direction—precisely the path Ji Xun had taken.

…

Ji Xun walked along the road back to the manor, pondering how to cultivate the Hundred Herb Worm and the Thousand Beast Fruit, when he suddenly sensed demonic aura behind him. In an instant, a fanged short blade appeared in his hand. Ahead, a black-robed figure sped toward him.

As the figure drew closer, Ji Xun saw that the man’s face was covered by a black cloth, completely obscured. There was not a trace of demon aura about him—remarkably strange. It couldn’t be a spiritual cultivator; after all, spiritual cultivators were rare in the Demon Nation.

Spiritual cultivators shunned demon aura, absorbing only the purest spiritual energy between heaven and earth. In Yi Xuan’s era, such cultivators did not exist—it was a path pioneered by someone in later generations.

“Young man, tell me, have you seen anyone wearing a mask?” the black-robed man suddenly asked.

Ji Xun’s heart skipped a beat. He had long known that venturing into such black market trades carried risks, demanding caution.

…

He hadn’t expected to encounter a robber on his very first attempt, but fortunately, his preparations concealed his identity well. There was not a hint of dragon aura or Man Tian python demon aura about him.

“I haven't seen anyone. Are you looking for someone, senior?”

“Haven’t seen?” The next moment, the black-robed man placed a hand on Ji Xun’s shoulder. Ji Xun was ready to strike back, but felt no murderous intent—only a probing gesture.

“Hmm, you’re a serpent descendant. Your Ba Snake bloodline is sparse but pure; your stomach has mutated, likely granting you supernatural abilities.”

With a casual touch, the black-robed man discerned Ji Xun’s lineage. Of course, Ji Xun had deliberately allowed this; otherwise, if the man found him devoid of any demon aura, suspicions would arise.

“Senior, your insight is sharp. I am impressed.” Though Ji Xun addressed him as senior, he sensed the man’s cultivation was not much higher than his own—perhaps sixth or seventh rank at most. If he fought with all his might, he had confidence he could win.

“Strange… If you’re not the one, then where could he have gone?” the black-robed man muttered.

“Senior, I don’t quite understand what you mean. May I leave now? My village is waiting for me to distribute demon silver.”

Ji Xun had no intention of revealing his status as a tenant farmer at the Mo family estate. The man before him was likely connected to the black market; claiming association with the Mo family might yield the opposite effect.

“No need to hurry. Let me divine, then you’re free to go.”

He produced another tortoise shell, this time shaking it not by hand, but with his pure demon aura. A few ancient coins scattered to the ground. Their faces bore floodwaters, the reverse showed cracked earth—symbols of the primordial wilderness.

The black-robed man scrutinized the coins, growing even more perplexed.

“He should be nearby—underground, perhaps… or—”

He cut himself off, raising his gaze to Ji Xun.

In that instant, Ji Xun gripped two green jade blades, each wrapped with special cloth. The blades moved in tandem, hinting at mutual harmony—the signature killing move of the Green Jade Mantis, the Cicada Catcher.

This technique used movement to counter stillness, suited for sudden, unexpected attacks. The Green Jade Mantis had often triumphed over stronger foes with this very move—a perfect match for the current situation.

Both blades struck from front and rear, breaking through the black-robed man’s defenses. In the next moment, his head flew.

…

Ji Xun noticed a tattoo on the dead man’s face, marking him as an escaped convict. He swiftly collected the tortoise shell and coins, then shattered the corpse with demon aura and buried it in a remote mountain hollow.

…

Meanwhile, tens of thousands of miles away, a towering man let out a thunderous roar. The stone cave he stood in collapsed in an instant. Countless rocks, as they fell within five inches of him, disintegrated into dust.

As more sections of the cave crumbled, the man was completely buried. In the next moment, the stone powder exploded outward. Within a mile around him, not a single living thing remained.

He was tall and imposing, with a strange totem painted across his face.

“Another of my avatars has been slain. Investigate this at once—find out exactly what happened.”

“Yes, by the decree of Man Tian,” replied a cultivator whose face was marked by tattoos.

…

Ji Xun had no inkling of what transpired so far away. At that moment, his return was timely.

A woman in blue, with a casual gesture, gathered water vapor from the sky.

“This is the Minor Cloud Rain Spell, originally a Daoist method for summoning rain. Later, the farmers improved it, making it more suitable for agriculture.”

As she finished speaking, the water vapor condensed into raindrops, falling upon a Hundred Beast Flower. The flower, previously withered, revived completely after receiving the spiritual rain.

“This is the Minor Cloud Rain Spell. You must practice it diligently. If you have questions, you may seek me out.”

Though the blue-clad woman was beautiful, she paled in comparison to Gu Yueqing.

Ji Xun, though late in returning, received a manual for the Minor Cloud Rain Spell. He hadn’t been there long, yet already a technique was bestowed upon him—the Mo family was indeed generous.

Yet, upon reflection, he suspected it might be an attempt to win people’s loyalty. Still, such gestures were surely welcomed by most.