Chapter 41: I Ask You to Help Me Cultivate

Han Ming’s features were already quite striking, but now, as she unexpectedly lowered herself, abandoning her usual cold and forceful demeanor for a posture of meek submission, it sent a ripple through anyone’s heart.

Beneath the mask of the Ironclad Man, Ning Zhuo’s expression remained as calm as still water.

He took out Han Ming’s soul-capturing spindle and spoke: “I’ve heard that your Devouring Soul Sect’s techniques allow you to increase your soul’s foundation directly by devouring other souls.”

“If you reverse the technique, you can refine your own soul essence through an artifact and infuse it into another person. Though there’s some loss in the process, it brings no harmful side effects.”

“This ability is what allows your sect to have elders at the end of their lifespan transfer soul power to the younger generation, instantly strengthening their foundation. It’s one of the main reasons the Devouring Soul Sect has become such a dominant force in the demonic path.”

“Han Ming, I intend for you to help me cultivate.”

That Phoenix Soul Blood Fragrance Pill is, after all, an elixir—once my soul enters the palace, I can’t bring it in with me. Even if I take it beforehand, its effects won’t last. I prefer a more direct approach—why not simply increase my soul’s foundation directly?

The moment he saw information about the Phoenix Soul Blood Fragrance Pill, and then met Han Ming, he decided she must be captured alive.

Hearing the Child Guest’s words, Han Ming’s eyes widened in horror, a chill spreading through her entire body. “I see now! I’m your true prey!”

“This attack on the Ziyang Courtyard was just a diversion!”

“This is a trap—a venomous snare!”

Han Ming screamed and struggled with all her might, making the heavy chains on her body clatter loudly as she tugged them against the stone wall to which they were fixed.

Ning Zhuo watched her calmly, waiting until Han Ming finally quieted down before speaking: “You’re getting too agitated—it’s not good for your injuries.”

At these words, Han Ming, who had just regained her composure, was once again enraged and cursed him hoarsely.

Ning Zhuo listened quietly, waiting until she was utterly spent.

“Would you like some water?” he offered.

With a flick of his finger, a thread of magical power unraveled from his fingertip. Suspended from it, a small puppet climbed up Han Ming’s body from her foot—over her calf, thigh, and abdomen—before standing on her chest, raising a cup of water to her lips.

Han Ming’s breath was heavy once more. But her outburst had drained her; she glared at Ning Zhuo, then finally glanced down at the water.

A moment later, she bowed her head and drank.

Truly, she was parched.

Most importantly, she was already a prisoner—if the Child Guest wanted to harm her, there were countless ways to do so; there was no need for the roundabout method of poisoning her water.

After drinking, Han Ming felt calmer.

“There’s one thing I still don’t understand!” Han Ming looked up, her brows tightly furrowed as she fixed Ning Zhuo with a searching gaze. “Sun Lingtong is a proper disciple of the Immaculate Sect—why would he join forces with you? What exactly is your relationship?”

Ning Zhuo smiled faintly. “I’ve been buying intelligence from him for more than a decade.”

“I watched him work, little by little, until he finally took control of the black market in Fire Persimmon Immortal City and secured his place here.”

“Our interests are deeply entwined.”

Han Ming snorted. “Is that all?”

“That’s all it takes for him to help you frame me, risking the enmity of the Devouring Soul Sect?”

“If anything goes wrong and I escape, both his foundation in the city and your life are forfeit!”

“We’re not like those self-righteous fools who play by the rules.”

Ning Zhuo smiled again. “But did you escape? Were you able to send word outside?”

Han Ming fell silent.

Ning Zhuo continued, “The attack on Ziyang Courtyard wasn’t entirely a ruse. At the very least, we did acquire a great deal of elixirs.”

At this, Han Ming grew agitated again.

“You two bastards—you deserve to die! My sect will avenge me; they’ll flay your flesh and break your bones, shatter your souls, and cast you into endless torment!”

Ning Zhuo waved his hand dismissively. “Calm yourself, won’t you? Anger is bad for your health.”

“You agreed just now—you said you’d do anything. So, help me cultivate.”

Han Ming threw back her head and let out a piercing, mocking laugh, until tears welled in her eyes.

Then she abruptly stopped, spat in his direction, and said with boundless hatred, “Dream on!”

The spit was stopped midair by Ning Zhuo’s magic and fell harmlessly to the ground.

Han Ming’s voice was icy to the core: “I’ve spent years of painstaking cultivation, enduring countless hardships to build my foundation. Now you want me to deplete my soul’s essence to help you cultivate? Ha! You’re hideous, but your fantasies are even uglier!”

“Painstaking accumulation?” Ning Zhuo questioned, “Your sect’s Ninefold Soul Devouring Art feeds on the souls of others to build your own strength. It’s nothing but ruthless plundering—how is that painstaking accumulation?”

This was the fundamental difference between the demonic path and the righteous path.

Cultivators on the righteous path drew their resources from thunder and rain, flora and fauna.

Cultivators of the demonic path took their resources from other cultivators—their blood, souls, even their flesh.

Han Ming retorted, “You know nothing, outsider! You only know half the truth!”

“You think the Ninefold Soul Devouring Art is so easy to practice? That all the souls we devour are fully converted into our own foundation?”

“Hmph! If it were so simple, the Devouring Soul Sect wouldn’t be just one of the major demonic sects—we would have already unified the entire demonic path!”

“At most, only half can be assimilated!”

“The more similar the devoured soul is to your own, the higher the yield. But it can’t be used too often.”

“It’s like eating—if you gorge yourself, you’ll burst.”

“We need plenty of time and countless auxiliary resources to digest what we’ve taken in.”

“If we fail to digest it properly, our souls become deformed, leading to terrible consequences.”

“Of course, there are those in our sect who are impatient for quick gains. They recklessly devour others’ souls, caring nothing for deformity, and their strength soars in the short term. But they have no future.”

Han Ming was not short-sighted. She possessed the rare Yin Corpse Qi, which alone placed her above most cultivators.

She always prioritized proper digestion and purity of her soul.

She valued her future greatly.

That was precisely why she so fiercely resisted—she had no intention of cooperating. To willingly surrender the foundation she had built up over decades to someone else?

It was simply impossible.

Especially when that person was her enemy!

“You’ll never get my cooperation! Just kill me—it would be cleaner!” Han Ming was cunning, too.

She could see that Ning Zhuo needed something from her, so she feigned indifference, hoping to regain some leverage.

Ning Zhuo sighed softly. “I’ve tried to persuade you gently, hoping you would cooperate willingly.”

“If you help me well, I promise that, after some time, I will set you free.”