Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 1005: How Could There Be a Path to Immortality in This World? (13)

The Heavenly Master of Dragon-Tiger Mountain could communicate with the yin and yang. The first Heavenly Masters emerged to cleanse the world of malevolent spirits and ghosts. Sensing the state of souls was considered fundamental training for a Heavenly Master of Dragon-Tiger Mountain.

Inside this small box, dozens of souls constantly emitted an aura of hatred and utter despair—perhaps lamenting the fact that after losing their lives, they were now trapped within such a tiny prison.

Mo Mo lowered his head, his voice heavy. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘currency,’ but… is what you’re doing really okay?”

Nero, gulping down a large mug of beer, glanced at Mo Mo from behind the rim of her cup, maintaining her drinking posture.

“You trample over lives so casually… treating them as mere commodities for trade?” Mo Mo’s voice deepened further.

Nero blinked and put down her mug, asking curiously, “Hey, are you one of those righteous types? Ah… that’s boring. Look, I didn’t make the rules. I’m just following them. And besides, if I earn something with my own skills, why shouldn’t I be allowed to spend it however I want?”

“Are you kidding me?!” The table shook violently—Mo Mo had slammed his hands down hard. He shot to his feet, glaring down at the indifferent white-haired girl. “Do you even understand the weight of a life?! How can you just… just!!”

“Oh, so you really are one of those people.” Nero waved dismissively. “Guess we won’t be teaming up, then. Once we finish this meal, let’s go our separate ways… Also, buddy, don’t you think you’re bothering other people?”

The other diners in the small restaurant had turned to stare.

Seething with anger, Mo Mo reached for the box of trapped souls.“Don’t.” Nero’s voice was cold.

At that moment, Mo Mo felt as if countless vengeful spirits had locked onto him. The air was thick with a murderous intent so tangible it made his body freeze up instinctively.

He met Nero’s gaze—those were not human eyes.

“You want to save these souls?” Nero said coolly. “Fine. But you’d better be prepared to get cut down yourself… I’m not exactly easygoing, you know.”

“You…”

“I’ll say it again.” Nero pulled the box back. “I’m just following the rules. I only do this because the rules allow it. If you’ve got a problem, take it up with whoever made the rules.”

The overwhelming killing intent still hadn’t dissipated. Under Nero’s gaze, Mo Mo felt an unbearable pressure—far greater than anything he’d felt even when facing White Tiger Clan’s Young Master, Huang Baifu.

“…Forget it.” Nero stretched lazily. The suffocating murderous aura vanished in an instant. She stood up, slinging her scroll case over her back. “Doesn’t really matter to me, anyway.”

As Nero turned to leave, Mo Mo slumped back into his seat, his head hanging low.

His fingers instinctively reached for the black wooden sword by his side—but even as he grasped the hilt, he felt as though his grip was unsteady. His strength, his technique… they hadn’t returned yet.

“Oh… almost forgot.”

Nero’s voice sounded again. Mo Mo tensed up, snapping his head up in alarm.

But all Nero did was reach for a skewer of grilled meat on the table, flashing a smile. “Thanks for the meal… righteous guy. Bye-bye~”

She left, utterly relaxed.

The restaurant soon returned to its usual lively chatter, but Mo Mo’s mind was fixated on a single thought: the one who made the rules.

The one who made the rules… Was this a rule set by that senior?

Using human souls as currency.

Senior… just what exactly…

---

After leaving the restaurant, Nero glanced around the bustling streets, chewing on her skewer as she muttered to herself, “A righteous guy, huh… The Boss probably likes that type. That so-called noble character.”

As she walked past a narrow alley, a stray dog poked its head out, staring at her pitifully—or rather, staring at the grilled meat in her hand.

Nero met the dog’s gaze and slowly finished eating her food. Finally, she tossed the last piece onto the ground. But the dog only hesitated, baring its teeth and stepping backward instead of rushing forward.

Nero chuckled. “Not even brave enough to fight for scraps? I say, you might as well just die.”

The dog retreated into the alley, teeth still bared.

Nero didn’t linger, casually hooking her hands behind her back as she walked away, humming a tune, disappearing into the crowded streets.

Alone.

---

Lately, it seemed like she kept running into these sudden, inexplicable situations… Song Ying thought to herself.

Not long ago, she had already been trapped in a thick fog once before—that time, she nearly died after falling off a cliff.

She thought she’d long since built up strong nerves—after all, she’d even seen zombies before. What else was there to be afraid of?

But right now, she was scared.

The fog was thick with negatively charged moisture, which wasn’t ideal in this cold season… She should’ve brought a jacket. Song Ying blew into her hands for warmth.

The fog had come on so suddenly, and Song Haoran, Luo Qiu, and even Zhang Qianrui had disappeared without a trace. But clearly… this wasn’t a dream.

The child of the Dragon God… The legend hidden in the village where the Song Family Ancestral Mansion stands… Could it be real?

She took out her phone—no signal. With a sigh, she put it away.

“At least if I find someone…” She walked cautiously, hoping to run into anyone—even Miss Zhang would be better than being alone right now.

Maybe she should stay in place?

But she’d already lost track of her starting point. Gripping a sturdy tree branch she’d picked up from the ground, she moved forward carefully.

Suddenly, a strange noise reached her ears.

She froze. Her fingers tightened around the makeshift weapon, her eyes shifting cautiously from side to side.

She didn’t dare turn her head—because, at that moment, she felt something beside her.

A slight tremor ran through her body as she slowly turned her neck—until her gaze met two glowing red lights.

The instant her eyes locked onto those crimson orbs, hot breath washed over her face, blowing her hair into disarray.

AH—!!

But she didn’t run.

From somewhere deep inside, courage surged forth. Song Ying swung her tree branch with all her might, smashing it against the shadowy figure with those glowing red eyes.

The impact was solid—she definitely hit something. But the branch shattered instantly.

There was no doubt—the attack had done nothing.

The crimson lights flickered.

Then, a deep, resonant roar echoed through the fog.

Whatever massive creature lurked within it, it was unleashing a presence that made Song Ying tremble.

Run—!

Her mind screamed at her to flee. Fear surged through her, overriding everything else.

But in the next instant, she felt her body suddenly become weightless.

As if… she had lost all contact with solid ground.

No—she was falling!

But she had no idea… what exactly she had stepped into.

This sensation of plummeting weightlessness amplified her terror, sending her thoughts spiraling into chaos—like a flickering reel of memories flashing before her eyes.

—If you were about to die, who would you want to see most?

Suddenly, this question surged into Song Ying’s memory… It was the question she had asked Luo Qiu when they were trapped in the cold storage, nearly freezing to death.

Several figures flashed through Song Ying’s mind…

If only…

If only she hadn't been so reserved…

That would have been better, right?

But…

But something suddenly wrapped tightly around Song Ying’s body at that moment. She felt constricted, but at the same time, her falling speed slowed down.

Before she could react, she felt the impact of hitting the ground. Fortunately, thanks to the cushioning, she only felt pain but didn’t suffer any fractures.

Lying on the ground, she rested for a while before finding the strength to move. It seemed that something like vines had saved her life when she fell.

She really was lucky… She had lost count of how many times she had narrowly escaped death.

Sometimes, Song Ying wasn’t sure if this was her good luck or her misfortune… She began to examine the place where she had landed.

It seemed to be a deep pit or perhaps an underground cave? But in a dense mountain forest, such geographical formations weren’t particularly unusual.

At least it wasn’t a cliff. Song Ying considered that a blessing.

But then, she heard a sound…

In the darkness, something seemed to be approaching her. The tension made her entire body tense up, her pores standing on end.

"Who… Who's there?!" Song Ying quickly scrambled to her feet, gripping the broken half of her branch tightly, and without hesitation, swung it forward.

"Miss Song?"

Suddenly, she heard a somewhat familiar voice…

But it was too late. The branch still struck its target.

Song Ying had no idea what part of the other person she had hit, only that she heard a muffled groan of pain, followed by the sound of someone collapsing.

In a panic, she grabbed her phone and turned on the flashlight.

Lying on the ground, looking disheveled and somewhat frightened, was none other than Zhang Qianrui, the young lady from the Zhang family who had been accompanying them.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know…" Song Ying quickly tossed the broken branch aside.

"Miss Song Ying, can you help me up first…? I think I twisted my ankle when I fell…" Zhang Qianrui said through gritted teeth, her face contorted with pain.

…

Come to think of it, Miss Zhang really had it rough.

From what she said, she had gotten separated from the others, then, while searching for them, encountered something that scared her. In her panic, she ran aimlessly and ended up falling into this pit.

Unlike Song Ying, though, Zhang Qianrui wasn’t as lucky. She landed poorly, twisted her ankle, and… well, also took a solid hit from Song Ying’s branch.

The branch had struck her elbow, possibly even injuring the bone. Her right hand was clearly struggling to move, and pain was written all over her face.

Feeling awkward, Song Ying asked, "Do you… do you have a high pain tolerance?"

"It should be okay," Zhang Qianrui replied softly.

To Zhang Qianrui’s surprise, Song Ying reached down and touched her own lower leg.

Song Ying then moved in front of Zhang Qianrui, lightly pressing on her injured ankle. Looking up, she said, "It’s not too bad. It’s going to hurt a little, but if you endure it, you’ll feel better afterward. Trust me."

"Alright…" Zhang Qianrui nervously gripped the hem of her clothes.

"I'm going to start now!" Song Ying took a deep breath and applied force.

A sharp cry of pain escaped Zhang Qianrui’s lips… but she bit down hard, trying to suppress any further sounds.

The pain was overwhelming, almost bringing her to tears. But once it passed, a sense of relief spread through her injured ankle, making her feel much better.

"Miss Ying, you’re amazing," Zhang Qianrui said admiringly. If it had been her, she wouldn’t have had any idea how to handle the situation.

"It’s nothing. I’ve already been called a tough tomboy, so if I didn’t know how to do this, that would be the real problem," Song Ying grumbled through gritted teeth, then shot Zhang Qianrui a glance.

Zhang Qianrui pursed her lips and chuckled softly.

Song Ying was momentarily stunned…

If she were a man, she might have fallen for a smile like that too.

Well-mannered, talented, gentle, graceful, and intelligent… These were the qualities most men admired.

"You… like Luo Qiu?" Song Ying blurted out, still dazed.

Zhang Qianrui seemed caught off guard, her lips slightly parted.

Their eyes met.

Then, Zhang Qianrui muttered in confusion, "Miss Ying, doesn’t he already have a girlfriend?"

Song Ying shook her head, suddenly losing interest. "Stop calling me ‘Miss.’ Let’s start over. My name is Song Ying. Just call me Song Ying."

"Zhang Qianrui."

And with that, the two of them shook hands.

(End of Chapter)