After glancing at the altar, Marquis Nanlong and the old man instinctively exchanged looks, both seeing deep wariness in each other’s eyes. Whatever camaraderie they might have shared in the past had long since evaporated in the face of the treasures now within reach.
After a moment of silence, the old man chuckled and spoke first, “Fellow Daoist Nanlong, we both know what the other is thinking. Though my cultivation was once slightly inferior to yours, you suffered a severe setback in the Mulan Grasslands, and now our strengths are roughly equal. With so many spiritual medicines here, it’s best we don’t entertain any ulterior motives and simply split them evenly. That way, we avoid mutual destruction.”
“Brother Lu speaks wisely. That was precisely my thought as well,” Marquis Nanlong replied. “But while we divide the medicines, I only want that alms bowl among the treasures. The rest can go to you. What do you say?” He cast a sidelong glance at the conspicuously eye-catching bowl on the altar.
“The alms bowl? Fine, let’s divide it that way!” The old man’s expression flickered briefly, but after a moment’s consideration, he surprisingly agreed without hesitation. “At my age, I only seek to advance my cultivation and extend my lifespan. Material treasures hold little value to me.”
Marquis Nanlong was momentarily stunned but then inwardly overjoyed. He had expected a lengthy struggle to persuade the old man to relinquish the bowl, yet the latter had yielded so easily. Still, caution prevailed, and he scrutinized the old man closely. Lu Weiying’s face remained calm, showing no trace of deceit. Noticing Marquis Nanlong’s hesitation, the old man even chuckled and said, “What’s the matter, Brother Nanlong? Have you changed your mind and decided to give the bowl to me instead?”
Marquis Nanlong fell silent, his eyes flickering as he pondered the question.
After a while, finding nothing amiss, Marquis Nanlong finally laughed and replied with a smile, “Brother Lu jests. Since you’ve agreed, I won’t stand on ceremony. Let’s act together—you take the three artifacts and jade talismans atop the bowl, while I claim the bowl itself. Afterward, we’ll split the medicines. How does that sound?”
“Agreed!” the old man replied without hesitation.
Pleased, Marquis Nanlong nodded, and the two moved almost simultaneously.
The old man flicked his sleeve toward the altar, releasing a wave of white light that swept up the three artifacts and jade talismans. Meanwhile, Marquis Nanlong cautiously opened his mouth and shot a golden orb toward the alms bowl.
Everything proceeded smoothly. The white light effortlessly carried away the artifacts and talismans, while the golden orb enveloped the bowl and floated back to Marquis Nanlong.
As the bowl settled into his palm, Marquis Nanlong couldn’t hide his delight. Across from him, the old man examined the three artifacts in his hand, his face expressionless.
Suddenly, Marquis Nanlong’s smile vanished. He flipped his hand and slapped a yellow talisman onto the bowl’s lid with lightning speed.
“Brother Nanlong, what is the meaning of this?” the old man demanded, his face darkening with shock and anger.
“Meaning?” Marquis Nanlong sneered. “Did you truly think I wouldn’t recognize those three artifacts and jade talismans as ancient tools used to suppress this bowl? I may not know what’s inside, but this bowl is undoubtedly a top-tier ancient treasure, and whatever it seals must be extraordinary. But if you hoped I’d recklessly open it, you’re sorely mistaken. I wouldn’t dare without absolute certainty.” As he spoke, he slapped five or six more talismans of varying colors onto the bowl.
The old man’s expression returned to normal in an instant. “Heh, it seems my momentary concession led to misunderstanding. But I won’t bother explaining. Let’s divide the medicines and leave this place. For some reason, I don’t wish to linger here.”
“Fine,” Marquis Nanlong snorted. “We’ll split the longevity-extending Tianyuan Fruits, and take turns choosing the rest.” With one hand holding the bowl, he reached toward the altar with the other, summoning a golden hand to seize the fruits.
Lu Weiying’s face darkened. Without a word, he conjured a white hand to grab a purple lingzhi mushroom beside the fruits.
But as the hands closed in, the fruits and mushroom shimmered with green light and dissolved like mist. The altar erupted in radiant light, and all the medicines vanished as if they had never existed.
Both men stared in shock.
At that moment, the bowl in Marquis Nanlong’s hand began to change. The talismans affixed to it flashed wildly before igniting in black flames, turning to ash in an instant.
Distracted by the disappearance of the medicines, Marquis Nanlong barely had time to react before the bowl’s lid exploded with a deafening bang. A streak of black light shot out and struck him squarely in the face, vanishing into his body.
A bloodcurdling scream tore from his throat as he hurled the bowl against the wall and collapsed to his knees, clutching his head in agony. His face twisted grotesquely.
“Possession?!” the old man gasped, paling instantly. Without hesitation, he pointed at Marquis Nanlong, summoning two blue halberds that streaked toward the writhing figure.
But just before they struck, Marquis Nanlong’s head snapped up. His face was now shrouded in black mist, his eyes gleaming silver-white. With a single swipe of his arm, he deflected the halberds effortlessly, though the force shredded his sleeve, revealing an arm now grotesquely transformed—jet-black, veined with purple, and ending in claw-like fingers.
The old man’s heart sank. For an early Nascent Soul cultivator like Marquis Nanlong to be possessed so quickly was unthinkable. Whatever that black light was, it was no ordinary evil spirit.
Panicking, the old man flicked his sleeves, producing a white banner in one hand and a length of fiery gauze in the other. He tossed the gauze forward, forming a crimson barrier. Only then did he breathe slightly easier. The “Hao Yang Gauze” was impervious to any ghostly or demonic attack.
The possessed Marquis Nanlong staggered to his feet. Instead of attacking immediately, he examined his hands and body before throwing his head back in a mad, cackling laugh. “Keke… After so many years, this venerable one is finally free! This time, who can stop the Sacred Ancestor’s descent? This realm is destined to belong to our Sacred Realm!”
“Sacred Ancestor? Sacred Realm?” The old man had never heard such terms, but they filled him with dread. His eyes darted toward the exit, recalling the formations he’d laid at the pool’s bottom. Escape was his only hope.
Without warning, he erupted in white light, transforming into a streak shooting toward the entrance. But just as he reached it, a figure blurred before him. A deafening impact sent him hurtling backward like a ragdoll, embedding him deep into the opposite wall.
Though his protective aura spared him fatal injury, his back went numb, and he momentarily lost control of his body. When his vision cleared, he saw “Marquis Nanlong” blocking the exit, slowly retracting a pitch-black fist, his face now deathly pale.
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