“Hurry, hurry, hurry!”
Gu Sanqiu pulled out a handful of donkey-hide gelatin cakes and other potent energy restoratives, stuffing them all in his mouth in one go.
The Wraith Bone Brush was now latched onto his arm—or more accurately, its tip had stabbed into his arm, greedily siphoning his blood.
“I didn’t tell you to drain me that fast!”
Dropping his snacks, Gu Sanqiu snatched up his Dragon Scale Shield and gave the brush a solid thump.
“What are you, some hack teacher throwing in trick questions on a math test? Slow down, you bloodsucking sponge!”
Apparently, the shield’s heavy aura from the Dragon King did the trick. The Wraith Bone Brush “obediently” slowed its rate of absorption, stopping just short of drawing him to the brink of unconsciousness.
“Yeah, this kind of cursed technique should definitely stay on the ‘use rarely’ list,” he muttered through clenched teeth, concentrating harder as the Paper Men Technique expanded further. The more members of the Sanxuan Guild he uncovered, the more he felt his hair stand on end.
One man controlled the issuing of official seals, while another managed records of cargo flow at the docks—positions that weren’t very high in rank but carried just enough “leverage” for anyone savvy enough to exploit them.
Take the officer in charge of the documents, for example. His job was like a stack of homework waiting for a teacher’s red pen. Naturally, he’d work through the pile based on what interested him—or who slipped him some extra mora to move theirs up.
In some cases, people were even willing to send a woman to sit on his knee, feeding him tea and whispering sweetly for some “after-hours grading.” All to get one little file stamped.
Or consider the one monitoring port cargo; even though his turf was small, within it he held full sway. In his hands, those numbers were the truth. If he fudged the records, a shipment of forbidden goods or even war machines could slip right through Liyue’s port, along with a hefty payout for him.
If it were just some random folk in these positions, Gu Sanqiu might chalk it up to personal greed.
But when members of the Sanxuan Guild held these roles, remaining stationed there for generations, Gu Sanqiu was absolutely certain they were there for far more than personal profit.
“Heh, good thing I chose the Paper Men Technique for this.” A grim smile crept across his face. Anything involving the Sanxuan Guild always put him in a sour mood—no, more like an outright rage. The kind of rage that made him want to crush every last one of them to dust.
Like the proverbial millipede that keeps wriggling long after death, leaving even a single member of the Association free to run was, to him, nothing short of negligent.
To the Liyue Qixing, “stamping out the heads of the operation” was enough; they’d lock away the rest in cells or covert departments. A leader’s practical approach, for sure.
But to Gu Sanqiu? “Root out the evil”? Oh, he planned on more than just that.
He wanted them all.
Not a single one left alive.
“Now, let’s see just how far your little maggots have spread.”
Closing his eyes, Gu Sanqiu felt ghostly sutras drifting from his mental core, filling his mind. Even the figure battling nearby involuntarily glanced his way, recognizing the ancient scripture.
“Been… a long time since I’ve heard this.”
A cursed god lunged forward, seizing the moment, but the figure’s green spear arced back in an instant, piercing the god in a single strike, more precise than before.
In Gu Sanqiu’s mind, texts upon texts of sutras, spells, and even scrolls of edicts coalesced, forming a mass that pulled his consciousness into order. The paper men, their memories now overwhelming in number, began sorting themselves as if on an assembly line under the sutras’ power.
The Paper Men Army was in motion, but now they didn’t merely absorb the memories of their prey; every single paper man was moving.
The ones with the lowest ranks quietly shuffled toward the city outskirts, while those with any status in the Association were already homing in on one informant after another—some of them even targeting superiors.
“Paper men, paper men, brought to life as men. With no names or fame, returning to dust and flame. The dead feed on ash, and smoke drinks in the fire…”
In the skies above Liyue Harbor, the haunting lyrics drifted, unsettling even Granny Ping, who frowned at the strange incantation, while the fur of the Medicinal Cat was standing fully on end.
“What is that boy doing?” the cat muttered.
Within Yuehai Pavilion, in a certain law firm, and even in the Jade Chamber, several people looked up to the sky in unison.
What did this strange song mean?
Boom!
A low boom resonated through the minds of all cultivators, even the Medicinal Cat and Granny Ping taking half a step back as faint traces of black smoke rose from their bodies.
Others shook as well, glancing skyward to see a colossal spear, shimmering with incense, piercing the heavens as the lyrics, strange in both melody and verse, fell into sudden silence.
The smoke-spear dissipated, its ethereal verses echoing in Granny Ping’s ears.
“My, my… It’s been far too long since I’ve heard that,” she said, looking skyward with a faint smile. “I think I know exactly what he’s doing.”
“Ordinary sutras, sure—valuable to a mortal, but not so rare for the Gu family. And you mean to tell me you can guess his exact plan?”
The Medicinal Cat tilted his head in confusion. He had plenty to keep him busy and didn’t know this generation’s Incense Keeper as well as Granny Ping.
But that didn’t keep him from being curious.
“Little Gu is making great efforts—tremendous efforts.” Granny Ping’s gaze grew thoughtful. “He’s learning to accept himself.”
“Accept himself?”
The Medicinal Cat squinted, still lost. “Ping, aren’t we a little past riddles? Or is there some bright-eyed youngster here who’ll sit and puzzle out what you’re thinking?”
“We’re at an age where a straightforward answer would be much more appreciated.”
Granny Ping’s smile froze for a moment before her gaze shifted to him, this time with a slightly sharper edge.
“Cat,” she said, almost too sweetly.
“…Yes?”
“I’m guessing it’s been a while since you’ve been knocked around, hmm?”
!!!
While these two immortals engaged in a rather “friendly” exchange, Gu Sanqiu’s eyes blazed with fresh insight.
The indiscriminate spread of the Paper Men Technique had uncovered a hidden Sanxuan base!
As parasites feeding off Liyue, the Association wouldn’t hide so far out as Minlin or the Guili Plains. Liyue didn’t have the luxury of long-distance data transmission; to extend their influence, they’d need a close, well-concealed location.
“Found you,” Gu Sanqiu smirked, the light of discovery glinting in his eyes. “I’ll be paying you a little visit.”
And this time, your “secret base” is getting a new landlord.
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