Chapter 296: Terrifying Thoughts
’It’s the same bone structure. But the aura is entirely different. Lin Feng feels like a mountain of iron and earth. This guy... he feels like a bottomless, empty well. He feels like someone who absorbs light into darkness.’
The questions multiplied like a swarm of angry hornets in her skull.
What the hell was going on?
When Lin Feng had confessed in the lotus pavilion to using the forbidden soul-displacement array, he had mentioned seeking out the Grand Oracle of the Star-Seizing Tower.
He had mentioned paying a "price that most men would shatter under."
At the time, Ji’an had assumed he meant a loss of lifespan, or perhaps the sacrifice of a portion of his own cultivation.
But looking at the pristine, unscarred clone standing on the dais, a much darker, far more convoluted theory began to form.
’Did he split his soul?’ Ji’an wondered, her teeth digging into her nail. ’Did the Star-Seizing Tower physically divide his existence to generate the cosmic energy required to punch a hole through dimensions? Is Shen Zechuan a discarded fragment of Lin Feng’s humanity? Or is he a parallel iteration? A version of my brother who was never sent to the northern borders, but was instead cast into the demonic rifts by the Sect Leader?’
It was a terrifying thought.
If Shen Zechuan was somehow a piece of Lin Feng, did he possess Lin Feng’s memories?
Did he know about the transmigration?
Did he know she was an imposter?
’I need to get into the Star-Seizing Tower,’ Ji’an resolved, a cold, ruthless determination solidifying in her gut. ’I need to bypass the Imperial wards, find the Grand Oracle, and interrogate them until they tell me exactly what the receipt for my soul looked like. I cannot fight an enemy if I don’t know the rules of his existence.’
As she stared at Shen Zechuan, entirely lost in her own frantic, tactical plotting, the Senior Apprentice slowly, languidly turned his head.
Through the dense, glittering crowd of thousands of cultivators, his dark, bottomless eyes found her.
For a fraction of a second, the serene, melancholic mask of the abyssal prodigy slipped.
The corners of Shen Zechuan’s lips curved upward.
It was a micro-expression.
A subtle, fleeting, ghost of a smile that was entirely devoid of warmth.
It was a smile that spoke of buried secrets, dark amusement, and the terrifying knowledge of a predator recognising a very specific, highly anticipated piece of prey.
It vanished before a normal human eye could even register it.
But Lin Ji’an saw it.
And more importantly, Xie Wangchen saw it.
The ambient temperature in their secluded corner of the hall didn’t just drop.
The air crystallised.
Crack!
A thin, jagged fissure of black frost spiderwebbed up the polished surface of the stone pillar Ji’an was leaning against.
Wangchen’s hand, which had been resting casually at his side, clenched into a fist so tight the bones of his knuckles popped audibly.
His ruby eyes, which had been soft and attentive moments ago, flared with a violent, catastrophic, unadulterated wave of pure killing intent.
He didn’t just step in front of Ji’an this time.
He shifted his entire stance, his flawless white robes billowing in an unseen, freezing wind, projecting his absolute zero aura outward like a physical, impenetrable fortress wall between Ji’an and the dais.
’He smiled at her,’ Wangchen’s internal monologue roared, the possessive, sociopathic monster beneath the ice violently thrashing against its chains. ’That abyssal filth looked at my Ji’an, and he smiled.’
Wangchen was already teetering on the edge of his sanity.
He had spent the last hour standing in this opulent, suffocating hall, forced to endure the infuriating reality of the world looking at the centre of his universe.
He had seen Hu Yanlie’s feral, glowing amber eyes tracking Ji’an’s every movement, practically drooling over her scent.
He had seen Wen Shiru lingering near the outskirts of the crowd, adjusting his spectacles with that dark, calculating reverence.
He had felt Xiao Yichen’s toxic, manipulative gaze trying to pierce the shadows.
Even the allegedly emotionless Elder Qin Changxu couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering toward her.
It was maddening.
It was an exquisite, prolonged torture.
He knew she didn’t like them.
But it didn’t matter.
Her sheer, blindingly vibrant, unapologetic light was too brilliant to be contained by those greedy eyes.
She was the most outstanding, captivating entity in the mortal realm, and everyone with a functioning spiritual sea was beginning to realise it.
And now, this new arrival, this corrupted, shadow-draped Senior Apprentice who had just crawled out of a demonic rift, had the suicidal audacity to single her out in a room of thousands and offer her a secret smile?
’I will freeze the fluid in his spine,’ Wangchen vowed, his ruby eyes locked in a lethal, unblinking glare with Shen Zechuan, challenging the Senior Apprentice to try that again. ’I will shatter his core and scatter the dust across the abyss!’
Ji’an, completely oblivious to the silent, staring contest occurring inches above her head, was still gnawing on her thumbnail, her brow furrowed in deep distress.
Wangchen looked down at her.
The violent killing intent radiating from his core instantly evaporated, replaced by a sudden, sharp pang of helplessness.
She looked so worried.
The vibrant, arrogant, table-flipping chef who had conquered the swamps with him was gone, replaced by a person burdened by ghosts he could not see and secrets he could not fight.
He hated the fear in her eyes.
He hated that she was standing in the shadows, biting her nail, carrying the weight of the universe on her slender shoulders.
He couldn’t interrogate her.
He knew she would deflect with a sarcastic joke.
But he could distract her.
He had to pull her out of her own mind before the anxiety consumed her.
Wangchen took a slow, deliberate breath.
He reached out, his long, pale fingers gently but firmly wrapping around her wrist, pulling her hand away from her mouth.
