Cultivating for a hundred lifetimes to ascension Chapter 1462 - 791: The Ten Kings of Hell and the Mysterious Painting (Part 2)

Two middle-aged women waited outside the East Hall, while a figure clad in white emerged from inside. A thin white veil draped over her face, blurring her facial features.

The woman in white appeared to detect a presence, lifting her gaze abruptly.

Their gazes locked, sending a shiver through both their cores.

"She belongs to that group too," Zhao Sheng's eyes gleamed as he started moving toward her without delay.

"Get out of the way!"

Midway, the pair of women blocked his path, with one barking sharply, "Step back, don't obstruct my lady's way."

Before Zhao Sheng had a chance to respond, the woman in white interjected, "Granny Sun, Granny Zhao, let him pass. This young master means no harm."

With the lady's command given, the women reluctantly moved aside, though they stayed on high alert, eyes fixed warily on Zhao Sheng.

Zhao Sheng advanced, motioning toward the East Hall with a grin, and inquired, "Care to... step inside for a talk?"

"What's there to fear?" The woman in white replied promptly, without a second thought.

"Miss, it's unwise to be alone with this young man—it might tarnish your good name," Granny Sun cautioned in alarm at her words.

"Quiet!"

The woman in white's tone iced over in an instant, making Granny Sun tremble and display a look of deep fear, as if she'd endured harsh treatment in the past.

With that, the woman in white pivoted and headed into the main hall.

Zhao Sheng smirked, brushed past the two women, and crossed the temple threshold in quick steps.

Reaching the incense table, the woman in white faced Zhao Sheng and questioned, "I am Gong Xueqing. Might I ask your name?"

Zhao Sheng clasped his hands in respect, "I am Zhao Gongzhu, delighted to make your acquaintance, Taoist Gong."

"Why has Taoist Zhao summoned me here? What matter do you wish to discuss?" The woman in white inquired evenly, her voice soft and flowing.

Zhao Sheng cut to the chase, stating, "Regarding the knowledge you possess, or details on other matters. I'm prepared to swap for information of matching worth."

The woman in white displayed curiosity and inclined her head, "That seems fair. Shall we exchange one bit of intel for another? Who starts?"

"I'll begin. I'm aware of details on at least four fellow Daoists, covering their backgrounds and looks. Would Taoist Gong care to bargain?"

As he talked, Zhao Sheng's eyes roamed the vast hall, absorbing its setup.

The divine statue, incense table, ritual offerings, hanging drapes, and the wall-mounted Hell Creatures Painting... everything looked intact, much like those in ordinary temples.

If anything stood out, it was the Hell Creatures Painting adorning the walls, rendered with stunning realism that gave off a chilling, horrifying vibe, the ghosts and fiends appearing almost alive.

Ordinary folk who glanced at this artwork might feel a surge of terror, dreading the torments of the underworld, which would only deepen their devotion to King Yan.

Clearly, a skilled artist had crafted the wall mural.

Hearing his offer, the woman in white showed a hint of respect, "Taoist, your techniques are remarkable. I only recognize one fellow Daoist's identity. Beyond the trade we're making, I'm eager about the other three's details. Could I offer a secret in return?"

"Of course," Zhao Sheng consented right away. After all, when "tomorrow" dawned, all recollections would wipe clean.

By that logic, he'd acquire valuable insights at no cost, profiting effortlessly.

The woman in white seemed taken aback, unprepared for such easy agreement, and continued, "Taoist, you might be unaware, but this little town conceals numerous ancient immortal treasures—"

She hadn't finished when Zhao Sheng cut in abruptly, "I know."

"Not just that—I've already claimed a treasure from another person earlier."

With those words, Zhao Sheng drew a White Jade Cup, about the size of a fist, from his sleeve and held it out for her view.

Spotting the immortal motifs etched on the cup, the woman in white's face shifted subtly, rendering her momentarily mute.

"Fine, I'll trade a secret for it. Taoist, are you aware of Mingxi Town's ancient title? A millennium back, it went by—"

"Ming River Town!" Zhao Sheng broke in once more, "Descendants deemed the original name too foreboding, so they renamed it Mingxi Town. The town's records mention it."

At this, the woman in white's veil trembled faintly, as if irritation stirred within her.

"If Taoist knows it all, why trouble yourself with a trade from me?"

"Didn't Taoist Gong mention knowing one fellow Daoist's identity? We can exchange that instead. I'll take a minor hit and disclose all four identities," Zhao Sheng replied candidly.

The woman in white looked stunned, doubting his claim.

Reading her mind with sharp perception, he added brightly, "One fellow Daoist goes by Nangong Wuliang, roughly forty years in age, looks like..."

He swiftly described the identities and features of the scholarly middle-aged man, the robust boatman, the reclusive young woman, and the muscular Su Heihu, showing no worry over her backing out.

After hearing him out quietly, the woman in white murmured softly, disclosing one person's looks and history.

Zhao Sheng, upon absorbing her words, eyed the woman in white up and down, falling silent for a beat.

Noticing this, the woman in white's pulse quickened, her hand secretly gripping an item hidden in her sleeve.

Fortunately, Zhao Sheng held back from acting. He simply bowed with clasped hands, "Deal done. I have affairs to handle, so farewell."

With that said, he spun around without glancing at her response and marched off briskly, back exposed as if unguarded.

The woman in white wavered back and forth, too cautious to strike, for her innate spiritual sense was extraordinary, warning that any move might spell doom.

Exiting the East Hall, Zhao Sheng's gaze sharpened, brushing off the two women's glaring stares as he headed straight for the West Hall.

Just then, muffled clashes of battle drifted from the West Hall.

In a flash, Zhao Sheng traversed the square, positioned himself at the West Hall entrance, and stepped through.

All at once, a streak of Sword Light shot from beside the door, aiming for his throat from a bizarre trajectory.

Zhao Sheng, anticipating the assault, retreated just in time, dodging the blow by a hair.

At the same moment, a flash of white light burst from his waist, racing like a shooting star to hit a hand protruding beyond the door.

The hand dropped soundlessly to the floor, along with a gleaming white Willow Leaf Saber that clanged down.

In the following instant, Zhao Sheng flicked his wrist, guiding the long blade up the detached arm with fluid grace, like a darting spirit fish.

The assailant, gripped by panic, threw himself backward with full force, landing flat on his back as the blade whisked over his nose, cleaving his conical hat clean in half.

Zhao Sheng felt a touch of astonishment, unprepared for the foe's quick reflexes that slipped past his Flowing Cloud Feathers technique.

A thud echoed as dense smoke billowed up where the conical hat figure had landed.

Hidden by the haze, the individual crawled rearward across the ground, slippery as an eel.

Zhao Sheng's eyes tightened, flipping the long blade in his grip so the point aimed into the fog, then flinging it powerfully.

The long blade turned into a beam of white, slicing through the smoke in a heartbeat and vanishing.

Ah!

A sharp cry rang out abruptly, then all went still.

Zhao Sheng frowned, hastening forward, sweeping his sleeve to clear the smoke, only to find the spot empty save for a wide stain of blood on the ground.

"Got away? Fascinating!"

Zhao Sheng whispered to himself, then whipped around to peer backward, catching sight of a young woman gawking at him, cradling a toddler of three or four in her arms.

His attention settled on the child's face, which held a pure, bewildered look.

Zhao Sheng abruptly offered a cryptic grin, paying no mind to the mother and child, and instead moved toward the mural along the hall wall, studying the artwork there.

Before him stretched eleven Hell Creatures Paintings, showing endless sword peaks where hordes of tiny ghosts and resentful spirits scaled the Sword Mountain, the myriad blades carving into them until blood flowed freely, their faces twisted in agony, endless shrieks and sobs filling the scene.

This depiction of Sword Mountain Hell brimmed with vivid detail, so much so that it felt animated, with ghostly echoes of cries and begs hanging in the air.

Zhao Sheng recoiled in shock, backing away several paces to put deliberate space between himself and the painting.

From afar, the painting's haunting pull faded considerably, its lifelike quality dimming.

"What incredible craftsmanship!" Zhao Sheng inhaled sharply, feeling ever more convinced of the profound mysteries embedded in these Hell Creatures Paintings.

He pressed on, inspecting every one of the ten temples and their Hell Maps, his unease mounting with each revelation.

In the meantime, two townsfolk suspected of being "Immortal Ruins Guests" had reached the Ten Kings Temple, falling under Zhao Sheng's watchful eye.