Chapter 117: An Expected Trap

Before Lei Xiang had even gotten out of bed on a morning still rumbling with thunder, Zhang Liao came running over, breathless and flushed with excitement. His face radiated the kind of joy one might see in a lottery winner. “Senior, wake up quickly! Huge news—we’re going to make a fortune!”

Lei Xiang was utterly puzzled, waiting for him to explain. Zhang Liao took a couple of sips of water, then lowered his voice mysteriously. “Senior, guess what I saw last night? You’d never imagine it in your lifetime…”

With a sleight of hand, Lei Xiang produced a spirit stone from his right hand. “Spit it out. Don’t keep me in suspense.”

Grinning like a typical merchant, Zhang Liao took the spirit stone, his eyes nearly squinting with delight. “I was wandering the ghost market when I ran into a young man selling top-grade crystal jade at incredibly low prices. You know it’s illegal to trade crystal jade privately, and his price was ridiculously cheap. Normally, top-grade crystal jade costs ten premium spirit stones per tael, but he was selling it for just one per tael. I suspect this kid’s goods aren’t legit—likely stolen.”

“Stolen?” Lei Xiang’s eyes sparkled. Could this thief have connections to the Ya Eleven organization? “Where is this guy now? Find him for me—there’ll be a hefty reward.”

Zhang Liao chuckled. “I figured you’d be interested, so I arranged to meet him last night. I told him a big buyer would come at noon. You know, I’m just a mortal with no cultivation to speak of, but he looks like a cultivator—I’m no match for him. So I’ll need you to step in. But just to be clear: if he has powerful backing, we can’t just snatch the goods by force.”

Lei Xiang frowned. “Then what do you suggest?”

Leaning closer and lowering his voice further, Zhang Liao whispered, “I think we should prepare for both outcomes. If he’s weak, we go hard; if not, buying with spirit stones is still a good deal. Safety first in any deal.”

Lei Xiang smiled ambiguously. “Where is he? Take me there.”

Zhang Liao hesitated. “Senior, remember, I’m just the middleman. If things get violent, I’m staying out of it. Let’s be clear on that—I don’t want to lose my life and come away with nothing.”

Lei Xiang patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Win or lose, your commission is guaranteed. And once you bring me to him, you’re free to leave.”

They arrived at a shabby street and a dilapidated residence. Standing before the mottled, peeling gate, this place lay eighty li outside the Crystal Jade Kingdom, in a small town called Crystal Horse Slope—one of the kingdom’s slums where eighty percent of the poorest folk lived. Judging by the ruined garden, Crystal Horse Slope once had its glory days.

Lei Xiang pushed the gate open, which creaked and then fell off its hinges. Not opening—the gate had rotted so badly it simply collapsed. Shaking his head, Lei Xiang stepped inside, with Zhang Liao following cautiously, eyes darting about.

Among the knee-high overgrowth, suddenly a figure rose—a lean man, cheeks hollow, clad in tight black clothing, carrying a heavy-looking black bundle on his back. The burden seemed immense for such a slender frame.

Zhang Liao stepped forward, clasped his fists respectfully. “Friend, I’ve brought the buyer. Please conduct your business. I’ll take my leave.” Then he turned to Lei Xiang, “Senior, I’ll—” Before he could finish, his body collapsed like a sack of grain.

Lei Xiang stared at the black-clad man in surprise. Despite only being at the Foundation Establishment stage, the man’s movements were swift and precise. The man glanced coldly at Zhang Liao on the ground and spoke slowly, “I only put him to sleep. I don’t want others witnessing our trade.” With a tug, the black bundle floated before Lei Xiang, opening on its own to reveal a metal box containing five flawless crystal stones. “These are premium crystal jades, priced at ten premium spirit stones each. If you’re a connoisseur, you’ll know this is a bargain.”

Lei Xiang glanced at the stones inside and slowly said, “If you have better ones, I’ll buy these five.”

The man’s cold eyes swept over him. Lei Xiang’s heart skipped a beat—those eyes felt oddly familiar, reminding him of Du Gu Yixiao. The man then said, “There are better ones, but I doubt you can afford so many.” Before he finished, Lei Xiang tossed over a storage bag filled with a dozen or so top-grade spirit stones. The man’s pupils contracted. These were high-grade spirit stones—on Wuji Continent, one such stone could be exchanged for a hundred premium spirit stones. How did this unassuming young man have so much wealth?

The man reached into his cloak and produced a fist-sized stone, dull and black with no remarkable features, yet he looked solemn. “This is the finest of the finest crystal jade, known as the ‘Jingqi’ in industry terms. There are fewer than ten in the entire Crystal Jade Kingdom. If interested, five hundred top-grade spirit stones.”

Five hundred top-grade spirit stones? That was equivalent to the annual income of a small country. Such a nondescript stone commanding such a price—only a madman or a blackmailer would pay.

Unexpectedly, Lei Xiang said something strange: “Are you from Ya Nine or Ya Twelve? You don’t need to steal anymore—just rob outright.” He locked eyes with the black-clad man.

A flicker of fear flashed briefly in the man’s cold eyes before vanishing, replaced once more by icy indifference. “Buy it if you want. If not, leave.”

Lei Xiang smiled faintly and reached for the stone. “Such raw crystal is rare, I—” But before he could finish, he collapsed. The man’s face remained grim, resembling Du Gu Yixiao more and more. He muttered coldly, “You revealed too much. Our organization has no Ya Twelve, only one through eleven. So this fat sheep must die.” He bent down to search Lei Xiang’s waist for his storage bag.

Suddenly, three black shadows leapt out, dressed identically to the man. “Boss, did you get it?”

The man jingled seven storage bags in his hand, a trace of amusement in his voice. “I didn’t expect this lamb to be so fat.” Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through, and the seven bags vanished. The man looked behind, spotting a young man with small tiger teeth grinning widely. It wasn’t Lei Xiang. “But I had him pinned down,” he muttered, looking at the empty spot.

Lei Xiang laughed. “I intended a peaceful trade, but since you had other plans, I’ll just take these crystals free of charge. By the way, your trapping spell is outdated. Let me show you mine.” He began forming hand seals to cast a spell.

The four black-clad men reacted swiftly, leaping back more than three zhang. Their leader shouted, “Trick’s a handful! Scatter!” He pressed his middle and index fingers to his forehead. A puff of black smoke rose, and he vanished into thin air.

Lei Xiang completed his hand seals, then with a single hand flicked out several yellow-glowing squares that trapped the remaining three black-clad men. With his Foundation Establishment cultivation, sealing techniques against Foundation Establishment practitioners were effortless. He paid little mind to the escaping man; three captives were enough to uncover the secrets of the Ya Nine organization.

Unexpectedly, the three sealed men emitted green smoke without warning, howling in agony. Their bodies rapidly dissolved within the smoke until nothing remained but a few storage bags.

Suicide?

Lei Xiang shook his head helplessly, recalling how Uncle Smoke wouldn’t dare reveal the truth. He understood that whether Ya Eleven or Ya Nine, members feared organizational punishment so much they’d rather activate hidden poisons to end their own lives than be hunted down.

Turning, Lei Xiang reached to gather the storage bags, but at that moment, a sudden anomaly occurred. From behind, a thunderball the size of a watermelon shot toward him at close range—a surprise attack few could dodge.

Luckily, Lei Xiang was no ordinary man. As if he had eyes in his back, he stomped with his Thunderfire Boots. Thunder roared as he slid over ten zhang away in a blaze of lightning and fire, tucking the storage bags safely into his bosom. When he withdrew his hand, he produced the Shexian Spear, its dark muzzle aimed at the approaching figure.

The man’s round face was filled with shock. The professional merchant’s smile had vanished utterly. “How… how did you dodge that?”

Lei Xiang smiled faintly. “Zhang Liao, you’re good at seizing opportunities—knowing that defenses are weakest just before success. So you chose to strike while I was picking up the bags. But your acting is poor, and your added comment about not cultivating is revealing. Think about it: you left here last night, then came to find me this morning. How could someone with no cultivation run eighty li? Are you a long-distance prodigy? I’ve been on guard against you all along.”

Zhang Liao was speechless.

Lei Xiang continued, “You should understand the principle of keeping wealth hidden. And why am I so generous with my spending? To avoid attracting thieves. Then you conveniently find the crystal jade seller, who offers suspiciously cheap goods, emphasizing two plans—fight or buy—and urge me to bring plenty of spirit stones. Isn’t this clearly a trap you set?”

Zhang Liao’s expression shifted from smiling to a grimace. “Since you know it’s a trap but still walk into it, I’ll make sure you don’t walk out.” His spiritual power surged wildly, releasing an overwhelming pressure matching Lei Xiang’s own.

Startled, Lei Xiang realized, “A Foundation Establishment cultivator!” He hadn’t expected this unremarkable man to be at the early Foundation Establishment level.

Zhang Liao sneered, “Playing hard to get, you must be interested in the Ya Nine organization. I’ll send you to catch up with those three black-clad men—they’re from Ya Nine. Go question them.”

Zhang Liao spread his hands, drawing circles like Tai Chi in front of him. Between his palms appeared a crackling sphere of lightning. Lei Xiang remained unfazed, steady with the Shexian Spear. “You don’t know what that is? It’s called the Palm Shexian Spear—a unique instant-cast artifact in the cultivation world. Its speed is incredible. I guarantee I can fire fifty shots before your spell finishes. Better not waste your effort.”

Ignoring Lei Xiang’s words, Zhang Liao triggered the lightning sphere prematurely. It shot forward, nearly reaching Lei Xiang’s eyes in an instant. But waiting for it was a black rod—the Nine Treasures Lotus Rod—swung precisely to strike the sphere’s lower half. The sphere shot back at triple speed—the equivalent of a home run in baseball.

Boom!

Zhang Liao was blown to dust. Amid the dust, a black streak carried a small golden orb speeding northwest—the remnants of Zhang Liao’s soul and golden core. Lei Xiang, prepared in advance, threw a shabby cloth bag upward, which opened and emitted a beam of white light. The golden core and soul were sucked into the bag, and Lei Xiang disappeared without a trace.