Chapter 88 Part 2

Shen He answered swiftly, then hurriedly recounted to Xie Linlang what he had seen of Zhang Sizhe’s actions inside the Great Xia Cauldron.

Xie Linlang’s expression shifted. He confirmed with Shen He: “A Black Snake?”

Shen He nodded. “Yes.”

Xie Linlang recalled encountering the Nine Spirits Sect Master at the abandoned Nine Spirits Sect ruins with Le Qingping, and a murderous glint crossed his face.

He had sent that old bastard to the afterlife, and Le Qingping and he had dismantled that snake into materials. Where had Zhang Sizhe found a second snake? Was it a spare puppet of the Nine Spirits Sect Master? Or had Zhang Sizhe nurtured it himself from a dead egg?

As Xie Linlang pondered, Shen He scanned their surroundings and whispered, “If this illusion has nothing to do with you or me, then whose is it? Senior Wen’s?”

“No, it’s unrelated to him. He used self-detonation to activate the Great Xia Cauldron, awakening the ancient legacies of its past wielders. But he didn’t anticipate that Zhang Sizhe inside the Great Xia Cauldron would use the Nine Spirits Sect’s secret Bloodline Extraction Totem Technique.”

Xie Linlang sneered. “When extracting the Totem Technique, to allow the cultivator full control over the Totem Spirit’s past and power, the secret art pulls out the target’s memories. We’re in Zhang Sizhe’s memories.”

Xie Linlang quickly surveyed the area and said to Shen He, “Follow me.”

Before them lay a Small Town. Xie Linlang soon located the largest residence, its long walls adorned with intricate runes and bearing the Zhang family banner.

Shen He trailed closely behind Xie Linlang. Upon seeing the estate, he subconsciously clutched Xie Linlang’s sleeve, agitated. “C-Could I learn about his family?”

By the bloodline-locking secret art, Zhang Sizhe was his direct kin. Could this reveal his parents…?

Xie Linlang glanced around, signaled to Shen He, then stepped onto the wall and lightly vaulted inside.

Shen He twitched at the corner of his mouth and hurried after.

After flipping over the wall into the Zhang estate, the illusion’s detail sharpened noticeably, far more vivid and lifelike than the outer town.

Xie Linlang whispered, “The illusion centers on Zhang Sizhe—the farther from him, the cruder it becomes.”

Shen He silently noted this exploratory trick.

They passed through gardens with flowing streams and bridges, outer corridors housing servants, and arrived at the quarters for wives and concubines.

Seeing Xie Linlang ignore the surrounding maids and servants entirely, Shen He could not help asking, “No worry about exposure?”

Xie Linlang replied, “As long as Zhang Sizhe doesn’t see us.”

Mentioning Zhang Sizhe, they soon overheard passing maids chatting.

“Isn’t that woman in the right wing on her last legs?”

“She’s still the Lord’s Seventh Madam, and her son is a cultivator.”

“Just some refugee woman who deliberately fell into the water before the Lord to climb into his bed, luckily birthed a son. Now the son is valued by a major sect, but she’s dying—such bad fortune.”

“Enough. The First Madam says it’s just these one or two days. There’ll be a new Seventh Madam soon. Watch your mouth.”

The two maids bickered as they carried buckets and basins away from the right-side courtyard.

Xie Linlang and Shen He exchanged a glance, concealed their auras, slipped into the courtyard, and crept along the wall to the right wing.

The right wing had three rooms. Xie Linlang and Shen He simultaneously sensed it from the outermost third room.

Zhang Sizhe’s spiritual fluctuations emanated from there.

Both drew close and peered cautiously through the window crack.

The room was dimly lit. Near the wall corner sat a bed, upon which lay a woman with faint breaths, clearly nearing death.

Beside the bed sat a youth strikingly resembling Zhang Sizhe, gripping the woman’s hand tightly, sobbing uncontrollably.

An adult Zhang Sizhe also stood in the room, staring dazedly at the scene.

“Little Zhe, Mother can’t hold on…”

“Wahhh, Mother, don’t leave me!”

Cough cough, “Don’t interrupt—let Mother finish.”

The woman’s voice was faint and weak, her gaze flickering as if lost in reminiscence. “Mother came from a middling family, quite well-off. In my youth, I was willful. Hearing of a family secret treasure and relying on my father and brothers’ indulgence, I sneaked into the Storage House when no one was watching and rummaged thoroughly.”

“I found a Round Ball, and it seemed to be crying.”

The woman said wistfully, “I asked it, ‘Why are you crying?’ It didn’t answer, but I felt it telling me it was hungry. So I secretly took the ball from the Storage House and kept it in my room. I shared rice and dishes with it, but it wouldn’t eat. Later, my maid tidied the room and accidentally touched the ball—my maid, Bai Shao, was devoured entirely by it.”

“It ate Bai Shao.”

The young Zhang Sizhe was visibly terrified, his crying ceased as he stared blankly at his dying mother.

“I was frightened and immediately told Father. He scolded me harshly and confined me. After that, I never saw the ball again.”

The woman sighed. “Half a year later, floods ravaged the surroundings. Countless refugees fled to our town. That night, chaos erupted—people looted the wealthy homes amid the fires, my brother was killed by frenzied refugees, Father was hacked, and someone tried to abduct me… In her grief, Mother brought out the ball Father had hidden and devoured everyone who stormed the estate that night.”

“After the ball consumed them all and vanished, three months later, I became pregnant.”