Chapter Forty-Six: Conspiracy

As soon as those words were uttered, the viewers in the livestream finally snapped out of their daze, shifting their focus from beauty to a heated discussion about Liu Shuangling’s strength.

It was known that the wrestling superman was an eighth-tier gatekeeper, yet he had been defeated in just a few moves by Liu Shuangling. This meant that the nineteen-year-old Liu Shuangling had not only reached the level of an eighth-tier spiritualist, but her strength was formidable even within that tier—perhaps close to the ninth tier.

If that were the case, the rumors circulating online hadn’t exaggerated at all; in fact, they seemed almost understated.

“Is it possible for such a monstrous talent to really exist?” “This young woman has the bearing of a future sovereign!” “If a sect master can teach such a disciple, what must their own strength be?” “Qingyun Sect truly is a den of hidden dragons and crouching tigers.”

The comments rolled across the screen like a rising tide, yet the heated discussion did nothing to stir the heart of the wrestling superman. He felt as though his Dao heart had shattered.

How could the gap between people be so vast? He was decades older, but it felt as though those years had been lived by a dog. Even so, reaching the eighth tier before a hundred years old already qualified him as a genius by most standards. After all, many people failed to reach even the sixth tier in their entire lives.

Yet the wrestling superman knew in his heart that he had reached his limit; advancing any further would be nearly impossible. That was why he had chosen to become a livestreamer—to leave some trace of himself in the memories of others by another means.

But that was the path of the weak.

The wrestling superman felt a wave of melancholy and did not linger at Qingyun Sect. After a few perfunctory words, he left the sect gate, barely saying anything to his “family” in the livestream—just a simple, “Sorry, everyone. I need to drown my sorrows in drink. The stream ends here. Wenhao, let’s go get a drink.”

“Alright,” Yao Wenhao replied, understanding his mood, and immediately shut down the stream.

—

With the main streamer off drinking and unable to edit videos, several content creators specializing in clips sprang into action, selecting scenes and uploading them to Douyin.

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the living room, the rich aroma of coffee drifting through the air. A man sat on a plush sofa, cradling a steaming cup of coffee sweetened with sugar. The glow of his laptop screen reflected on his glasses.

His fingers glided lightly over the touchpad as he scrolled through short videos on Douyin. Suddenly, a video titled “Nineteen-Year-Old Defeats Wrestling Superman in Seconds—This Woman Has the Bearing of a Sovereign!” popped up.

The man arched an eyebrow. He didn’t know who the wrestling superman was, but the phrase “bearing of a sovereign” piqued his interest, and he paused to watch.

The footage of the wrestling superman’s duel with Liu Shuangling was indistinct. Even with the clip slowed to the extreme, their movements were almost impossible to follow. Special effects had been used to reconstruct the battle, but the ferocity of the blows came through unmistakably.

“A new prodigy has emerged among the humans,” the man murmured, lifting his coffee for a delicate sip. The sweetness slid down his throat, but could not ease the worries in his heart.

The woman in the video had clearly employed a simplified chant for the Mirror Gate technique, yet was able to withstand the attacks of an eighth-tier spiritualist like the wrestling superman. Her talent for incantations was extraordinary—bad news for the demonkind.

He set down his coffee and swiftly searched for more information about Liu Shuangling.

Graduate of the 266th class at Shanghai Spiritual Arts Institute, disciple of Qingyun Sect. Winner of the Junjie Scripture Recital, where she made a child named Nai Yao cry, earning instant fame and the nickname “Demon Queen Liu” from netizens.

What was even more astonishing was that such dazzling achievements had not made her the top student of her year. That honor had gone to Tia Pendragon.

Curious about Qingyun Sect, he searched for the full livestream recording. It was lengthy, and thus had few viewers.

He skipped past the wrestling superman’s initial boasts and fast-forwarded to the gates of Qingyun Sect.

A red-haired, half-demon girl appeared at the steps, sunlight gilding her hair with a fiery halo.

“Zhuying?!” The man sat bolt upright, a sickly green sheen instantly blooming across his face. Instinctively, he touched his skin, and the green slowly faded, returning to its normal hue.

The grass demon’s lips curled into a meaningful smile.

So, after searching high and low, she had turned up without any effort at all. No wonder he hadn’t been able to find any trace of Zhuying; after leaving the auction house, she had joined a human sect.

Strange—given Zhuying’s nature, she should harbor deep resentment toward humanity. She was not the type to quietly remain within the Qingyun Sect. Was there some irresistible force at play?

The grass demon pondered, continuing to watch as the wrestling superman entered Qingyun Sect. The boundless sea of cherry blossoms displayed a remarkable mastery of spatial scriptures. A small sect could hardly afford a grandmaster—was this the work of the Qingyun sect master? His estimation of the Qingyun master rose a notch.

It was likely this person had subdued Zhuying by force at the auction house, preventing her from causing further chaos. Otherwise, after what she had endured, Zhuying should have gone down the most extreme path as predicted—slaughtering at the auction house, provoking a group of human experts, and giving that lord the chance to rescue her.

With this in mind, the grass demon silently whispered, “I’ve discovered Zhuying’s whereabouts—she’s hiding within Qingyun Sect. But I fear the Qingyun master is no easy opponent. I dare not approach rashly and want the Koreans to test the waters. They’re seeking a powerful half-demon as a sacrifice.”

—

Meanwhile, deep underground in a cavern in Italy.

The damp air was thick with the stench of rot, greenish moss covering the stone walls. Occasionally, a droplet would fall from above, its drip echoing sharply in the silence.

In the depths, a humanoid creature covered in sickly green skin spoke, repeating the grass demon’s words from China verbatim. The grass demon was not a solitary being but had split into countless clones, all sharing a single consciousness. No matter where in the world they were, they could share information instantly.

Of course, the grass demon remaining here was the original core, from which all others had split.

“Lord Dihong, this is 3241’s suggestion,” the main grass intoned, his voice a raspy whisper like wind rustling through dry grass.

Deeper in the cavern, a massive demonic form leaned against the rock, darkness shrouding his skeletal frame. Only a pair of enormous eyes glowed blood-red in the gloom. The eyes were layered like a chrysanthemum, each petal slowly rotating, radiating a suffocating sense of oppression.

“Let him proceed as he wishes,” Dihong replied, unable to mask the weariness in his voice. “My time is short. I must ensure Zhuying is driven from the human world and returns to me as soon as possible.”

“Yes, everything will go as you desire.” The grass demon bowed low.

The cavern fell silent once more, save for the sound of water droplets echoing through the darkness.