Three days later, at the edge of Jiangcheng, in a hidden underground safehouse beneath an abandoned factory controlled by the Special Authority Bureau.
The air was thick with the mingled scents of disinfectant and herbal medicine. Ji Chen sat cross-legged on a makeshift bed, shirtless. Though his face remained pale, his breathing was steady. The strange black markings on his right arm had mostly faded, leaving only a stubborn dark blotch in his palm—like an ugly brand that refused to disappear.
Su Wan, her left arm wrapped in thick bandages, sat on a low stool nearby, carefully applying a paste made of crushed spiritual herbs to several deep claw wounds across Ji Chen's back—injuries inflicted by a Yin-fiend puppet that had erupted from the ground during their escape from Qingming Mountain.
"Hiss…" Ji Chen sucked in a sharp breath as the paste seeped into the wounds, burning like fire.
"Bear with it. This 'Jade Continuity Balm' is very effective at dispelling Yin energy—it just stings like hell," Su Wan said, her voice tired but gentle. Her hands moved with practiced ease, and her eyes had grown steadier, more composed. The ordeal at Qingming Mountain had been a forge of fire, stripping away the last trace of inexperience from the "intern Su Wan."
Lin Mo entered the room, his expression darker than a stormcloud and holding a tablet in hand. "The intel's confirmed." He placed the tablet on the table. On the screen was a satellite image so shocking it made the room go silent.
Where Qingming Mountain had once stood, there was now a massive, bottomless crater. The walls of the pit were unnaturally smooth, like obsidian glass, and glowed with an ominous crimson light. The surrounding mountains had been scorched into a wasteland—lifeless, blackened earth stretching for hundreds of kilometers.
"Qingming Mountain… is gone," Lin Mo said grimly. "And so are all of the elite agents we sent, including Director Nangong. All sacrificed."
A deathly silence fell over the safehouse.
Ji Chen clenched his fists as the image of that catastrophic explosion replayed in his mind. A mix of helplessness and rage surged within him.
"What about the Underlord?" Su Wan's voice was icy.
"Vanished," Lin Mo muttered as he sank into a chair. "The satellite only picked up a final blood-red beam of light shooting into the sky, followed by the explosion. The residual energy at the site… exceeds anything we've ever recorded. He likely completed some sort of transformation—and is now in hiding."
He turned his gaze to Ji Chen and Su Wan. "Right now, you two are the only survivors who witnessed the Underlord's resurrection up close. The Night Owl Society won't let you go—especially you, Ji Chen."
Ji Chen nodded silently. The blotch in his palm throbbed faintly, like a cursed seal... or a beacon.
"What now?" he asked.
"Hide. Train. Grow stronger!" Lin Mo's voice was firm. "Whatever the outcome of that battle, the Underlord has taken a heavy toll and will need time to recover or stabilize. That's our only window! Ji Chen, the Void Scripture in your body is the key! And Su Wan—your Su Clan bloodline and insight are just as important."
He stood and walked over to a corner of the room, where an inconspicuous safe was embedded in the wall. After entering a complex code and infusing it with a spiritual signature, the door opened—not to reveal weapons, but a carefully arranged cache of jade boxes, bottles, and ancient-looking scrolls.
"These were our last-resort resources, prepared before the Qingming operation for the reserve team…" Lin Mo said as he placed them on the table one by one. "Fifty mid-grade spirit stones, the Basics of Talisman Craft scroll, a partial copy of the Hundred Herb Alchemy Classic, and these—Vital Essence Pills, Mind-Clearing Powder, and more of the Continuity Balm."
He looked at Ji Chen. "This should be enough to help you break into the Foundation Establishment stage."
Then he turned to Su Wan. "Your wounds require Jadeblood Recoagulation Balm to fully expel the Yin energy and prevent long-term damage. But that kind of spiritual medicine is incredibly rare. We're out of stock."
He tapped on the tablet and brought up an encrypted file. "The black market in Jiangcheng might have some. But the intel is vague and the risk is high."
Su Wan's eyes narrowed. "I'll go."
"We'll go," Ji Chen said firmly, eyes burning with determination. "The black market is chaotic, but it's also the perfect place to hone our skills. I need battle experience. I need resources. I need… to master the Void Scripture!"
He opened his palm, and the black blotch gleamed ominously under the light.
Lin Mo looked at the two young cultivators before him—both forged in fire and blood—and nodded. "Alright. I'll prepare new identities and a secure residence. Remember—Jiangcheng is crawling with hidden threats. The Night Owl Society is still out there, and the Zhao family… may come after you for what happened with Su Wan."
He paused, his tone turning grave.
"The Underlord may be dormant, but his hunger for the Scripture hasn't ended. Ji Chen, until you're truly powerful… the Void Scripture is both your greatest asset and your deadliest curse. Don't waste a second.
One week later, in the old district of Jiangcheng, atop a seemingly ordinary, run-down apartment building.
Lin Mo had meticulously prepared the place. The exterior was plastered with warding talismans disguised as outdated billboard posters. Inside, a simple spirit-gathering formation and a soundproof barrier had been set up. Ji Chen sat cross-legged in the center of the array, surrounded by five mid-grade spirit stones glowing with rich spiritual energy. His eyes were closed in deep concentration, his consciousness submerged in his sea of awareness, fully immersed in cultivating the second layer of the Void Scripture.
Spiritual energy surged through his toughened meridians like a rushing tide, repeatedly tempering the whirlpool of spirit essence that had formed within his dantian. Born of life-and-death trials at Qingming Mountain, coupled with relentless days of cultivation and the boost from the spirit stones, he had finally reached the threshold of the peak Spirit Initiation stage.
"Condense!"
With a low growl in his heart, the whirlpool within his dantian began spinning madly, greedily devouring spiritual energy and essence from the stones around him. An intense pain exploded in his core. Veins bulged on his forehead, and sweat poured down his face. He gritted his teeth, clinging tightly to the guidance inscribed in the Void Scripture, channeling all his focus into the whirlpool's center, where spirit energy would undergo its most crucial transformation.
Time lost meaning—it could have been a blink, or it could have been centuries.
"Hummmm—!"
A soft hum, audible only to his soul, echoed through his consciousness. The vortex in his dantian abruptly collapsed inward, stabilizing into a pea-sized, golden droplet of spirit essence—dense, warm, and radiant.
A Foundation Core.
He had broken through—Foundation Establishment Stage, Initial Level!
Ji Chen's eyes snapped open. A flash of golden light flickered and vanished from his pupils. His aura shifted subtly—less showy, more restrained, yet far more formidable. He could feel the immense reserves of power flowing through his veins, far beyond what he had ever experienced before.
More than that, insights into the third layer of the Void Scripture began surfacing in his mind—concepts of basic artifact refinement and energy imprinting techniques unfolded clearly.
Confidence surged through him.
He turned to the window. Beyond the pane, Jiangcheng pulsed with life—cars, lights, the hum of industry. Yet beneath the surface of this sprawling metropolis lay hidden ancient forces, deadly secrets, and the path to transcendent power.
The dark blotch on his palm remained, a constant reminder that the struggle was far from over.
"The black market auction... the Jadeblood Recoagulation Balm..." Ji Chen whispered, eyes gleaming with purpose. "Su Wan's injuries must be healed. And I need more power. Much more."
He rose, walked to the window, and stared into the depths of the city's gray zone—the district spoken of only in hushed rumors.
A new journey had begun, right here, in this city he thought he knew.