Murim's Weakest Princess

Staring at the redrawn spell that Anji recreated, understanding finally dawned on Pu Jianming. Those symbols, he had come across from a friend, and Anji turned pale.

"Soul slavery was abolished," Pu Jianming insisted. "Without the right gems, they cannot be replicated. Each gem requires a blood sacrifice. How...?"

All the pieces were finally in place. The missing piece of information was finally revealed by none other than the traitor of the Mystical Qilin Sect. Yan Ping told Anji to judge as she deemed fit, as the ninth successor. However, what guilt did he have when he was as clueless as she was?

With two parts of the story melding together and a twenty-year gap since Pu Jianming’s isolation in the Crystal Lake town, the grand scheme and severity of Song Min’s ploy came to light.

"We have to inform shifu right away," Pu Jianming gathered his documents. "And the sect leader."

Anji agreed. She was glad for the assistance when the truth was finally revealed. Having an ally like Pu Jianming was better than facing him as an enemy. She needed all the help she could get, but more importantly, she needed to rescue Mingshen.

Yet in moments like this, hope was extinguished just as quickly.

"Leaving so soon without even greeting an old friend? I’m hurt."

Anji did not recognise that voice. She did not even sense him approaching, just like a ghost. However, Pu Jianming knew exactly who that was.

Snapping to turn around, he hid Anji behind him.

"Ah Song?"

From behind Pu Jianming, Anji studied the new vessel Song Min had acquired. Likewise, Song Min smiled and studied her, the grin not quite reaching his eyes.

"It’s me," the new visitor snapped his fan closed.

He had to be in his thirties, with some Western blood, given how unnaturally pale and pasty his skin was. Anji noticed his eyes were light coloured, almost amber, like her golden eyes, activated with her second sight. He was tall and dressed in a black, central plains robe with red spider lilies embroidered onto his sleeves.

There was no mistaking that this was Song Min, even if his appearance had changed a lot over a thousand years. Anji had no idea what his present identity was. The way they locked stares was enough confirmation. Although most of her memories over many reincarnations were fuzzy, there was no mistaking the same look of deep hatred in those eyes. They belonged to Song Min.

"I never knew you had a daughter, Old Pu. I’m hurt you didn’t tell me. Was I the only one who thought we were close friends?"

Pu Jianming stiffened. He wanted to believe in an old friend from decades ago. He truly did. However, he was a researcher at heart who valued truth over everything else. Zhao Anji was unmistakably a junior from his sect. He recognised energy traces of those who practised the sect’s heavenly eyes anywhere. Not to mention, Yan Ping’s teachings are reflected clearly in her diagrams. She could not be lying to him, leaving only one other possibility.

"She’s not my daughter," Pu Jianming calmly clarified. "She’s someone from my old sect. We were leaving to catch up on some news and to receive my shifu, who has come down the mountains."

Instead of panicking, Pu Jianming played it cool. There was a chance that his old friend already knew everything. However, that calm confidence only meant he was more dangerous than he appeared.

"Is that so?" Song Min smiled, eyes shifting from Anji to Pu Jianming since his appearance. "Then we should receive him warmly in my tavern."

For a few moments, nobody spoke. The tension was so suffocating that Anji broke into a hiccup without meaning to.

Her childish biological betrayal made Song Min crack up genuinely. Anji had to hide behind Pu Jianming, her face heating up in genuine embarrassment. A thousand years ago, they would have been trading blows like soul strikes. It would be better if Song Min intended for her death now that he had her in his claws. Yet, he did not seem intent on hurting them, but she would not put it past him to change his mind. They had to buy time for Elder Shen to arrive and prepare to send word to her shifu about the new situation. Not to mention, two could play the game. Now that she had found the real tiger, she could pull on its whiskers and find out where her brother was.

Unable to reject the smooth offer, Pu Jianming hid his anxiety and accepted the offer cordially. Meanwhile, he kept himself between his friend and Anji. Between the two, he already knew who he would throw his life away for. Even if his friend had been great to him in the last two decades, once the dice were rolled and suspicion cast, Pu Jianming’s righteous nature would never allow him to overlook anything.

Now that his eyes were truly open, he looked around Crystal Lake Town, his home for many years, which boasted tranquillity and happiness. Pu Jianming thought he found a kindred soul in the vast world of mortals, one who spoke with the same intelligence and desire for knowledge. He was wrong.

On the surface, the peacefulness Ah Song promised did not disappear. His array and research was fruitful in his years of seclusion in this small town. Ah Song was a businessperson who travelled frequently and set up this place for himself. It used to be rather inconvenient, but when Ah Song learned he was a spell master, he was open to the idea of integrating them with daily life. Now, Crystal Lake Town felt almost like home with how similar everything was to the Mystical Qilin Sect when he left.

Reminiscing about the times he spent talking about his new ideas at length with his friend, Pu Jianming thought about the first time he gained the idea to create a soul summoning device. Where did it start becoming so wrong?

Most importantly, those three symbols came from books Ah Song scoured the region and minority sects in the Central Plains. He claimed there were cultivators in the Central Plains, but they were less known and could have been considered unorthodox. Being the open-minded researcher that he was and an ex-archivist, Pu Jianming prided himself on being able to discern good from evil.

All his creations lacked the evil intent. He might have used several components from those Central Plains cultivator sects for the bridging component between the living and the dead. However, he never supported any of the energy siphon components. Energy vampirism was even more frowned upon than dual cultivation. Yet, those three symbols were the worst combination. Slavery of the soul to serve a master even after death is a sentence worse than hell. The person who thought about this must be evil incarnate. There was no doubt about this.

Glancing from the side of his eye, Pu Jianming felt numb. From the outside, it seemed like two friends catching up with small talk. But inside, he felt like an insect caught in a spider’s trap.

"Ah Song," he finally stopped in his tracks right before the tavern where they usually drank tea and played the zither while exchanging poems. "Who really are you?"

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