I Only Wanted to Stay Unseen, Until...

Pay Ling forced himself to calm down. These two ghost maids just wanted a show—maybe if he gave them one, they'd lose interest and stop scrutinizing him.

With that in mind, he made a snap decision: he'd put on some fake effort and then concede.

After all, no matter how fine the Blade of Life Hater was, it wasn't worth his life. Pay Honine, an adept cultivator at Qi Refinement Fourth Layer, had thrown everything he had at it and couldn't budge the blade an inch. Clearly, the two-tenths strength of a mid-Foundation cultivator was leagues beyond their current power.

He'd only just stepped into the Fourth Layer—why beat his head at wall?

So Pay Ling reached out with his left hand, gripping the hilt of the Blade of Life Hater and making a forceful tug.

Kinson Zheng's brow furrowed at once. True, he'd only dangled the blade as bait to test Pay Ling's strength, never intending to actually award with it. But with Pay Ling's cultivation barely break at the Fourth Layer's doorstep, even a full-on effort shouldn't have shaken it from his grasp—let alone with one single hand.

And an injured single hand at that!

Yet before the thought fully formed, a surge of strength—far beyond his expectations—yanked at the hilt. The blade shifted slightly toward Pay Ling, nearly slipping free.

Kinson Zheng's startled, his gaze on Pay Ling sharpening. One hand—an injured one at that—and his strength already outstripped Pay Honine, a veteran at the same layer?! 

No, no way an ordinary Fourth Layer cultivator could equip such strength!

"So that's it", he mused, reeling. "No wonder Senior Sister took a liking to this guy!"

His mind buzzed with suspicion, but he didn't hesitate. Tightening his grip, he pinned the blade back in place. It wasn't that he couldn't bear to lose it—no, if Pay Ling snatched it with just an injured left hand, where would that leave his pride as a Bloodline Lord of Inner Sect like him?

Unknown to these details, Pay Ling stole a glance at his left sleeve. The freshly healed wound had torn open again, blood soaking through the fabric in a stark stain. The blade had only budged a hair's breadth before locking back into place like an immovable boulder. Good enough, he thought.

While thinking, he then ignored the throbbing pain, heaved a few exaggerated gasps, feigning exhaustion, then staggered back two steps and dropped to his knees. "Immortal Master Zheng's strength are profound beyond measure! We brothers can only gaze up in awe! This Blade of Life Hater—it's far beyond what we're worthy to own. Please, Immortal Master, take it back!"

Kinson Zheng's stern expression softened slightly. But before he opened his mouth, Joanie, who'd claimed to be a mere spectator, cut in with a sigh. "There's only room for one weakling aboard the Bone Tomb Vessel, and Pay Honine already claimed that spot. So, young sir, what will you do?"

Pay Ling's heart sank as she continued, her tone icy. "How about I peel that skin of yours nice and slow, stitch it into a fresh lampshade for my mistress's room? Recycling is a good thing to do, right?"

Hell?!

You're this vicious—does your mistress even know?! 

Your mistress hasn't even laid murderous hands on me!

Pay Ling sucked in a breath, his grip tightening on the stolen Spirit Nourishing Pill as Joanie's malice washed over him, chilling him to the bone.

He'd just entered the Fourth Layer—by his own reckoning, he was a shade weaker than Pay Honine. His clan brother had poured every ounce of strength into the blade and failed. Even if Pay Ling went all out, what chance did he have?

This ghost was out for his blood, plain and simple!

Terror seized him, but he steeled himself, blood surging as he braced for a desperate fight.

Then Willow's soft, lilting voice broke in. "Oh, Sister, don't be like that. Young sir Pay Ling's been stuck in a backwater like Deerspring town all this time—how could his experience or strength compare to a Holy Sect disciple? Kinson Zheng's at mid-Foundation stage. Even with just two fingers and two-tenths of his power, it's too much for the poor boy! How about this: let Kinson Zheng dial it back a bit more—say, one-and-a-half-tenths?"

Joanie glanced at her, catching the sweet smile Willow flashed her way. After a beat, she relented. "Fine, have it your way."

Pay Ling shot Willow a grateful look. "Thank you, Lady Willow."

Even if Kinson Zheng dropped to one-and-a-half-tenths, he wasn't sure he could pull it off—but half a tenth less was half a tenth more hope of surviving! In that moment, even Willow's pallid face seemed almost warm to him.

"No need to thank me," she replied, tilting her head with a friendly grin. "Do your best, Young sir Pay Ling—or you'll end up as Sister Joanie's lampshade after all!"

"Y-Yes, ma'am." He sneaked a peek at Joanie, who was sizing him up with a frigid stare, as if plotting the best spot to start flaying. His scalp prickled as he scrambled to figure out what to do with the Spirit Nourishing Pill.

Willow aside, Joanie clearly had it out for him. If she spotted her mistress's pill… the consequences didn't bear thinking about!

In a flash of desperation, Pay Ling ripped open his robe, took off his outer shirt, and wrapped the pill inside. With a flick, he tossed it onto the deck nearby.

Heart pounding, he scanned the others from the corner of his eye. No one spared the discarded shirt a glance. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, he flexed his blood flow naturally, ignoring the blood trickle down his left arm. Stepping forward, he gripped the hilt with both hands, focusing intently.

Kinson Zheng's eyes flickered. He'd never truly intended to follow Willow's suggestion and drop to one-and-a-half-tenths. Even at three-tenths, he wasn't sure he could hold the blade against Pay Ling's full strength.

But now he wondered: were Joanie and Willow acting on their own, or was this Senior Sister's will?

If it was her highness's will…

Should he secretly increase the difficulty, or let Pay Ling pass the test?

He mulled boosting it to four-tenths to test Pay Ling's limits—then caught Joanie and Willow watching him, faint smirks curving their lips, their inky gazes unblinking.

His heart skipped. Nope, don't play tricks.

At that moment, Pay Ling channeled his strength through his spine, blood roaring as he yanked backward with all his might.

The Blade of Life Hater hesitated for a heartbeat—then slid free from Kinson Zheng's fingers. Pay Ling stumbled back two steps, catching himself.

That easy?

He blinked, stunned. Pay Honine had strained like an ox to no avail, yet he'd braced for a grueling tug-of-war—only to succeed in one pull?

Grasping the blade, he glanced at Kinson Zheng, bewildered.

The man's face was a mask of mixed emotions, his eyes lingering on the Blade of Life Hater with a trace of reluctance. Noticing Pay Ling's stare, he quickly smoothed his expression and said evenly, "This blade was my weapon back in my time when I'm in the Outer Sect. Now that it's yours, I hope you'll strive hard and not tarnish its former glory."

"Aye, sir!" Pay Ling bowed hastily. "Great appreciate, Immortal Master, for this gift! I won't let you down!"

Kinson Zheng's approval didn't fully ease him. He turned to Joanie and Willow, only to see Joanie smile faintly, hand over her mouth. "Alright, enough. Into the cabins with you all. Once you're settled, we've got to tend to the mistress!"

Looks like I've passed this round.

Pay Ling wiped cold sweat from his brow, watching Joanie lead Kinson Zheng and Pay Honine inside. He darted over, snatched up his shirt, and gave it a quick squeeze—yep, the pill was still there. Relieved, he followed obediently.

Stepping into the cabin, a shiver racked him.

The cold was akin to when the maids appeared, but bearable. Ahead stretched a dim corridor, its end swallowed by pitch black. Every few steps, eerie blue lamps glowed on the walls—not banishing the dark, but deepening its unsettling weight.

A few dozen paces in, doors flanked the passage.

They gleamed a dull red, like congealed blood, etched with runes that seemed to seal something within. At some, muffled thuds echoed as he passed, heavy enough to break the wood door. Some doors stood silent when Kinson Zheng and Pay Honine passed by, but when Pay Ling walked near, crimson eyes snapped open on the panels, glaring malice. One door even sprouted blood-red vines, just like Bone Raksha painting lashing out hands, planning to drag him inside.

"Back off!" Willow's sharp rebuke saved him. The vines writhed in protest before slinking away.

Finally, she pushed open a door for him, revealing a sparsely furnished but spacious room. Pay Ling stepped in, his back soaked with sweat, and turned to her sincerely. "Thank you indeed, Lady Willow."

"Don't mention it at all," she said, her pitch-black eyes locking onto his. Instead of leaving, she drifted closer, her voice soft. "Young sir Pay Ling, may I ask you something?"

Unsure but wary, he nodded. "Yes ma'am. I will tell you all and everything I know."

She smiled, then darted forward—close enough that her nose nearly brushed his!

Her inky gaze bore into him, icy fingers grazing his neck as her frosty breath whispered, "Young sir Pay Ling, why do you carry my mistress's scent?"

Pay Ling's pupils shrank, hairs standing on end. In an instant, black mist flooded the room, swirling like dark water to engulf him, its frigid bite closing in!