“Creature?” Cha Ming asked. “The one Prince Shen mentioned?”
Huxian had also mentioned it, and so had Sun Wukong. The older man peered into his eyes, boring into him with a soul force that Cha Ming could barely resist. He didn’t breach his soul defenses, but the pressure was difficult to bear. “You asked a question, and it’s only fair I ask one back.”
“Yes, it’s the same creature,” Senior Zhong said, relenting. “Though by the look in your eyes, you know about it but aren’t involved. I should have known. Someone like you wouldn’t dare meddle with such destructive forces. Even immortals and gods dare don’t dare take this lightly.”
“Is there something I need to know?” Cha Ming asked, frowning.
“Nothing is free,” Senior Zhong said, holding out his hand. “A thousand top-grade spirit stones.”
“A thousand?” Cha Ming exclaimed. “Come now, surely I get a preferred customer discount.”
Senior Zhong rolled his eyes. “Nine hundred.”
“Five hundred at most,” Cha Ming said.
“Eight hundred,” Senior Zhong said. “And I’m not going lower. You’ll be needing my information if you want to maintain your sorry life.”
The warning gave Cha Ming pause. The man might joke sometimes, but he had never lied to him. Not yet. Cha Ming nodded and handed over the required payment.
“There is an ancient creature heading your way called a Taotie,” Senior Zhong said. “It was lured all the way from Eastvale Wall by Marshal Feng Ming and Gong Xuandi, the forcefully retired Sea God Emperor. Their whereabouts are unknown, as they seem to be shielding their presence. The creature has caught the scent of Bastion, however, and it grows restless. It will reach the city in five days, and the South is rushing to amass forces to resist and suppress it.”
“So whatever I do, it needs to be within five days,” Cha Ming muttered.
“I highly recommend that you be out by the time it arrives,” Senior Zhong said. “A Taotie is not to be taken lightly. Even I, as powerful as I am, will leave the plane if it continues to grow.”
“That big of a threat, huh?” Cha Ming said. “I’d imagine Zhou Li will come to handle it personally?”
“He and his transcendents,” Senior Zhong said. “That’s not a secret. There are already a dozen in the city, hidden and waiting. A significant portion of the elite forces in the South are here in this city. The righteous faction is fully aware of it, but they’ll not meddle as long as the South is bearing the brunt of its attack and suppressing it. In fact, they might even join hands to deal with it if things get too difficult.”
“Do you have an estimated time of arrival?” Cha Ming asked.
“Sunset, a very poetic time,” Senior Zhong said. “Now, off you go. I don’t have much time to waste with youngsters like you.”
“Are there really that many cultivators worthy of your attention on this plane?” Cha Ming asked.
“Whoever said anything about dealing with only one plane?” Senior Zhong mused. “I might be here in person, but dealing with small fries like you is just a wonderful convenience, nothing more. But I do it all in the hopes that I meet a Heavenly Emperor in the making.” He gave Cha Ming a meaningful look, then gestured back toward the portal.
Cha Ming sighed and walked back to the simple gray circle, marveling at the formation. He took a step inside it, and the restlessness returned.
The first thing Cha Ming heard was a scream. It was from a voice he recognized, in a place not far away. He scanned the city, looking for where it might be coming from. His transcendent force slipped past the Spirit Temple’s wards and spies, searching tens of thousands per minute.
Fifteen minutes later, he found her. His body was a blur, flying through the skies much higher than most cultivators had a right to. Many thought to shout at him but thought better of it when they noticed his speed. He soon arrived before a building, and when he realized what was happening, he concealed his presence and retracted his soul force.
Cha Ming opened the door to the building, shutting it behind him without a sound. He walked up the steps, taking care not to disturb those in the room upstairs. Due to his high cultivation and soul force, he was invisible to them. Their eyes looked over him but found no purchase on his body.
There were two people on the floor, two women, one of them a stranger. The one he knew was gasping in pain. He hadn’t known what was happening when he heard her scream, but now he understood the sense of crisis when he’d left the Blackthorn Conglomerate. Mo Ling was lying in a bed, panting. A midwife stood beside her, encouraging her. During his absence, Mo Ling had gone into labor. Her child was coming.
Mo Ling’s face, which had gained a bit of weight despite her hardworking nature, was red and contorted. She might be a cultivator, but no woman was immune to such a primal pain. Bringing a new life into this world was a struggle with death itself. Even the strong Mo Ling, who’d persevered despite the odds against her, despite the unlucky hand she’d been dealt, was now at her weakest. It was also the time where she was needed most, for another life depended on her.
She struggled, and as she did, Cha Ming could only watch in both amazement and anticipation. Mo Ling was the one he cared about most in all the South. If things had been a little different, and they were both safe and sound in the North, he’d have acted more like a close uncle than the distant observer he was forced to be now. In his eyes, his nephew was being born; he’d cheated and
