Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 1006: How Could There Be a Path to Immortality in This World? (14)

Even the Sun God's Emblem was unable to exert its power at this moment.

Song Haoran couldn't construct a three-dimensional map of this mountain ravine in his mind. At most, he could only explore a radius of about two meters around him.

This made Song Haoran anxious, but at the same time, it reignited the thrill of his first adventure—the nervous excitement he felt before he obtained the Sun God's Emblem. Back then, he was merely an ordinary man from a well-off family.

There were many unknown and unexplainable things in this world, mysteries waiting to be unraveled. The world was far larger than he had ever imagined. It was anything but boring.

"Ah, looks like this trip was worth it. Except…"

Except that if he were alone, it wouldn’t be a problem. However, this time, he was accompanied by Song Ying, Luo Qiu, and a young lady from the Zhang family. He could afford to ignore the Zhang family's Miss, but he couldn't abandon Song Ying or Luo Qiu.

"This is going to be troublesome."

Without the ability to map out the terrain, with no sense of direction, and completely cut off from communication, even Song Haoran found himself at a loss.

The only thing he could do now was conduct an inefficient search—perhaps he'd find a way out, or locate Song Ying and the others… or even uncover the source of this thick fog.

Faintly, Song Haoran thought he heard a strange sound within the mist… like some kind of cry.The sound stirred a deep sense of awe within him, and at that moment, the Sun God's Emblem he wore suddenly burned hot.

"You're interested too, huh…" Song Haoran glanced down at the emblem beneath his shirt before turning his gaze toward a particular direction. "That way?"

After a moment of contemplation, he decided to move in that direction. If he couldn’t find Song Ying and the others, he had no choice but to explore further.

Maybe, along the way, he’d run into them—assuming they were also drawn to the sound.

Song Haoran quickly retrieved a butterfly knife from his suit pocket, but he didn’t flick it open. Instead, he discreetly tucked it into his sleeve.

He had no idea how long he had been walking. He hadn't encountered Song Ying or the others, but unexpectedly, he did come across a strange figure.

The man was peculiar because he hid his face behind an ancient bronze mask and wore a black Tang suit embroidered with flame-like patterns.

Something about him screamed danger.

He stood silently within the dense mist, arms folded behind him, seemingly gazing at something in the distance.

"Hey, brother, I have a question for you." Song Haoran adjusted his pace, speaking in a relaxed tone as he approached the masked man. "I'm lost, and I got separated from my companions… Have you seen anyone else around here?"

The masked man remained silent, not even moving.

Song Haoran took a few more steps forward. "Come on, man. A little help?"

By now, he was right beside the masked figure, reaching out to tap him on the shoulder—

But just as his hand was about to make contact, he abruptly stopped and swiftly retreated two steps.

A warning.

The Sun God's Emblem had sent him a sudden, urgent warning—the same kind of warning that had saved him countless times before.

"Oh?" The bronze-masked man finally reacted, slowly turning his gaze toward Song Haoran.

His voice was deep and distorted, like a heavily processed audio recording. "You seem… special."

"I doubt I'm as special as you." Song Haoran smiled faintly, adjusting his sleeve in an almost casual manner. "Alone out here?"

The masked man remained indifferent. "Before I left home, I cast a divination for myself. Qian above, Zhen below—Heaven Thunder Without Mischief… It seems I must eliminate some unforeseen factors."

"Oh?" Song Haoran chuckled. "So, I'm not welcome?"

The masked man stepped toward him with his hands still behind his back. Song Haoran narrowed his eyes—

In the blink of an eye, the masked figure was suddenly right in front of him, as if he had traversed the distance in an instant.

Like a ghost.

Lightning-fast, the masked man launched an upward palm strike toward Song Haoran’s chin.

Song Haoran's reflexes went into overdrive. Just before the attack landed, he jerked his head back, narrowly dodging the strike.

He quickly leaped backward. At the same time, the butterfly knife slid smoothly into his palm.

With a swift flick, the blade danced in his fingers. Song Haoran smirked. "That was close."

"Hmph." The masked man let out a faint snort and stepped forward again—

This time, he moved even faster.

Song Haoran's pupils contracted as a powerful gust of wind rushed toward his head—

A roundhouse kick!

It was incredibly fast!

With no time to react properly, Song Haoran instinctively raised his arm to block.

The impact was like being hit by a speeding truck.

He was sent flying like a broken kite.

But it wasn't over.

The masked man twisted his body midair, launching a second kick toward Song Haoran while he was still airborne.

A double-kick!

In an instant, Song Haoran felt his entire arm go numb.

His back slammed into something hard—likely the trunk of an ancient tree.

His spine might have fractured from the impact.

Slumping to the ground, he coughed up a mouthful of warm blood.

He struggled to lift his head and saw the masked man standing over him, foot poised above his chest.

A heavy stomp followed.

Another mouthful of blood sprayed from Song Haoran’s lips.

Motionless, he lay there.

The masked man spoke calmly, "I don't know how you got here… but I won't allow any loose ends. Rest well in your next life. When you reincarnate, perhaps you'll see a brand-new world."

With that, he turned to leave.

But he had barely taken two steps when—

Cough.

The sound came from behind him.

Under the bronze mask, his expression shifted in surprise as he slowly turned back.

The man who should have been dead was now pushing himself up from the ground.

Song Haoran spat out a mouthful of blood, wiped his lips, and smirked. "Hey, the game’s just getting started. Why are you leaving already?"

"You…" The masked man frowned.

This man wasn’t a demon. That much was certain.

There were no fluctuations of magical power in him. That was also certain.

And yet…

He had come back from the dead.

His wounds had vanished.

The butterfly knife spun in Song Haoran’s hand once more.

He grinned. "Tell me—how big is the world, really?"

"Interesting." The masked man muttered.

But this time, he flicked his wrist—

A yellow talisman appeared in his hand.

With a sharp motion, he hurled the talisman forward. A thunderous crack split the air as the talisman exploded in front of Song Haoran.

BOOM!

The thick fog absorbed some of the sound, but the explosion was still deafening.

The masked man waved a hand, dispersing the lingering smoke.

In the center of the impact crater lay Song Haoran.

His legs had been blown apart. Half of his body was a bloody mess, charred and burnt.

The masked man stood over him, silent. "Dead?"

Turning once more, he walked away.

Then—

"So… this is what you call Daoist magic? Talisman techniques?"

A voice spoke from behind him again.

The mysterious man suddenly turned around and saw that Song Haoran was still lying in the dirt pit. However, his entire body was completely restored, and his previously disfigured face had returned to its original handsome state. The only thing that proved he had actually suffered the attack was his tattered, destroyed clothing.

"Are you an immortal?" The mysterious man pondered for a moment before staring at Song Haoran and asking in a deep voice.

"Immortal?" Song Haoran chuckled. "How is that possible? I just have a few more lives than others. There's an old saying in China... Oh right, 'Courtesy demands reciprocity.' How about you try my attack too?"

As he spoke, Song Haoran tore off his already ruined shirt, revealing a lean yet well-built physique.

At the same time, his arm suddenly burst into a golden-red glow. His entire arm seemed to be engulfed in flames… No, it looked more like a fusion of molten lava!

He charged at the mysterious man with all his might, his burning fist striking straight ahead with raw force.

Boom!

His punch slammed down, sending a wave of dust billowing up, accompanied by an explosion similar to a grenade blast. But even with all that, Song Haoran didn't feel the sensation of landing a direct hit.

He glanced at his still-burning arm and clenched his hand.

"This power… it's real. Then..."

He suddenly dodged to the side, just as a thunderous explosion erupted where his fist had struck the ground, enlarging the dirt pit even further.

Clearly, the mysterious man's attack power far exceeded his own… and he probably wasn’t even going all out yet.

Still…

"I'm not completely helpless either..."

The mysterious man started circling Song Haoran, launching what seemed like harmless attacks. His breathing and rhythm remained unchanged as he silently observed, seemingly analyzing him.

Studying this strange man.

Studying the reason he had come back to life twice.

Once again, the mysterious man drove his palm straight through Song Haoran’s chest—a fatal strike. Yet, Song Haoran still got up from the ground, completely unscathed.

"Fine then. Let’s see how many times I can kill you… and how many lives you really have!"

It seemed he was finally taking things seriously.

But…

At that moment, Song Haoran's heartbeat surged wildly, as if responding to his body's thirst for excitement.

The sound of his heartbeat echoed in his ears, like an engine revving at full speed.

---

Song Ying had somehow found a few dried vines.

She broke them apart in front of Zhang Qianrui, stripped off the outer skin, and handed one over.

"Suck on it," Song Ying said, already holding one in her own mouth. "It'll help replenish some moisture. This stuff is pretty clean and edible."

Zhang Qianrui hesitated but, after being trapped in this underground pit for so long without water, her throat felt unbearably dry.

Following Song Ying’s example, she placed the peeled, smooth, slightly thick vine in her mouth.

It had an indescribable taste… slightly astringent.

But it was hard and couldn't be chewed—she could only suck on it. The liquid it released wasn’t much, but at least it eased her thirst a little.

The two of them quietly shared the vines.

After a while, Zhang Qianrui suddenly said, "Do you hear something?"

Song Ying looked around curiously. "Echoes? Since we're in an enclosed space… But yeah, I do feel a faint vibration, kinda like a piling machine outside."

"Alright," Zhang Qianrui nodded.

If someone were looking for them, they should have heard voices calling out by now… but the place was so silent they could even hear each other’s breathing, along with the distinct sound of sucking.

Song Ying soon finished off the vines and leaned against the rock wall, gazing at the opening above where they had fallen in. "Still hurt?"

"It's much better now," Zhang Qianrui replied softly.

Song Ying then asked, "Are you scared?"

"Not really… at least I’m not alone," Zhang Qianrui forced a smile. "Besides, it kinda feels like I’ve been in a similar situation before—somehow ending up trapped in a dark, enclosed place."

"Is that so…" Song Ying lazily nodded. "I had a similar experience not too long ago."

Zhang Qianrui looked at her curiously.

But instead of continuing, Song Ying suddenly started humming a soft melody. The sound wasn’t loud, but in the enclosed space, it was strangely clear.

"This song…" Zhang Qianrui listened, mesmerized.

Song Ying stopped and smiled. "I accidentally heard it last time I was trapped. I think it was played by some guy with a girlfriend? I only remember this part, though, nothing else."

"This is 'Farewell' (《送别》)," Zhang Qianrui smiled. "Let me hum it for you."

Another soft female voice filled the quiet underground space once more.

(End of Chapter)