For a Golden Core cultivator, crushing a skull was as effortless as crushing a block of tofu.
The only difference was the color.
Those terrified eyes were exposed for a brief moment before being swallowed by blood.
Gao Fang gave his hand one final shake and drew the last period on this "beloved disciple's" life.
Looking at the lifeless, limp body, Gao Fang's heart was so calm there was not a single ripple.
For some reason, he suddenly recalled that the first time he had killed someone, he had been so nervous he couldn't string a sentence together. His hands had trembled so badly it was terrifying.
Gao Fang also suddenly could not remember when exactly he had become an evil cultivator.
"Evil cultivator" had always been a loose term. Kill one or two innocents, and someone might seek justice, but the label of evil cultivator was still a far cry.
Fighting other cultivators over cultivation resources and spirit stones, stopping at nothing to win — that didn't necessarily earn you the title of evil cultivator either, since such things were considered ordinary.
Kill mortals. Refine blood qi.
Perhaps it violated common decency, but as long as you found ways to make people "consent," you might not be branded an evil cultivator.
Gao Fang turned and walked unsteadily downward.
Perhaps, for a treasure he once considered impossibly precious, he schemed to kill a close friend — someone he had shared wine and laughter with.
Or perhaps he had grown tired of covering his tracks after every deed, pretending to be innocent when he was the one who did it.
Tired of performing longing for justice and goodness while standing in darkness.
Or perhaps…
There was simply no one left around him he could care about, and no one left he could trust.
The filth he committed would not be washed clean by water — it flowed straight into his heart.
Those who hide in darkness see everyone as evil.
Do all the dirty deeds, stand alone, with nothing left to cling to — perhaps that was what made an evil cultivator.
Gao Fang pondered this, and suddenly bared his teeth in a grin.
He walked to the edge of a cliff, formed a hand seal, and threw himself off.
Streaks of spiritual light flashed, and he landed steadily.
A faint spiritual glow illuminated the modest space.
Two bodies that looked not dead but alive were arranged within the ritual formation on the right.
One was a woman of exquisite beauty, her face adorned with delicate cosmetics. Even with eyes closed, her presence exuded a sense of fragility. She wore a magnificent robe, her expression serene.
The other was a strikingly handsome young man, dressed in white scholar's robes with long sleeves, a gentle smile on his face — the very image of a proper gentleman.
Apart from these two, in the center of the space sat a gaunt, skeletal old man with white hair. His withered fingers held a hand seal, and his eyes were shut.
Gao Fang walked lightly to the old man and regarded the broken body with undisguised contempt.
Even though this body was truly his.
But this body had gone down too many wrong paths. Rushing to break through had left his foundation unstable, and his already mediocre spirit root had been further crippled by it, unable to advance any further.
And to keep pace with those prodigies, he had consumed too many pills with side effects.
A dwindling aura. A hard ceiling on his cultivation.
This body was trapped at the late Golden Core stage. The Nascent Soul realm was like the moon in a dream — visible but unreachable.
Gao Fang's expression turned bleak. He raised the arm of the young body he currently controlled — that still-tender arm symbolized limitless renewal and limitless height.
Superior spirit root. Outstanding natural talent.
Breaking through was effortless. His features were also handsome.
Despite having received very little careful cultivation, he had still reached the Golden Core stage.
If he had been born with this body from the start, how would he have ended up alone and bitter as an evil cultivator?
At the very least, he would have been surrounded by admirers — a prodigy that countless cultivators could only look up to in awe.
Perhaps then, he would have had any number of beautiful admirers and any number of sworn brothers.
Gao Fang drew a deep breath, suppressing the urge born of jealousy to tear this body apart.
Jealousy ruined things. He had ruined many things because of it.
Gao Fang's mind repeated over and over — this body is already mine.
Only then did the killing intent in his heart ease somewhat.
Gao Fang stepped into the ritual formation nearby.
Until the soul problem was fully resolved, these "seeds" he had left behind needed stable rest, or their bodies would collapse. Only then could they withstand the flow of spiritual energy in combat.
And those lingering, faint traces of soul consciousness remaining within the bodies also needed rest, or the bodies would fall apart entirely.
The technique was powerful.
But its limitations were truly too many.
For instance, he could not control a body whose cultivation exceeded his own.
He could not sustain control for long, or his own soul consciousness would fail him.
Most regrettable of all, even though these bodies possessed outstanding talent, their cultivation could never surpass his own.
Golden Core stage… Golden Core stage…
Gao Fang manipulated the young man's body into a seated lotus position, his eyes slowly closing.
A moment later.
When Gao Fang opened his eyes again, what he saw was his own hand — those withered, ancient, dying fingers.
"With talent like mine… yet shackled by poor innate gifts."
A dry, hoarse voice echoed through the space.
Gao Fang tilted his head slightly, his tone defiant:
"Soul exchange — even Mahayana cultivators haven't unraveled it. This path can only remain a fantasy."
"And how pitiful that I know it's false, yet still believe those demons possess the art of soul exchange — a secret technique of the demon realm…"
Gao Fang paused, his gaze drifting to the scholar's body:
"Sun Zhong, why do you think the Evil Spirit Sect has set its sights on that light pillar?"
The body did not move.
But Gao Fang's face brightened with realization: "Excellent, excellent! As expected of my beloved disciple — your analysis is flawless!"
"The Evil Spirit Sect must understand the secrets within, and its value far exceeds ten thousand spirit stones."
"It must involve soul cultivation techniques. If the Evil Spirit Sect can decipher its mysteries, and I receive even a portion…"
"With my talent, I will surely unravel the secret and recreate a technique to rebuild the true soul-body."
"When that time comes… I will no longer be…"
Gao Fang's voice was forced out from the depths of his throat:
"No longer Gao Fang!"
Gao Fang burst into laughter, then turned his gaze to the strikingly beautiful female body:
"Excellent! Liu Yue's words resonate deeply with my heart… when that time comes, you and I will surely cultivate the great Dao of Yin and Yang together! After all, your body is my body…"
Gao Fang's hoarse laughter echoed without end.
The air was silent.
But in his heart, a thousand words were spoken.
After being an evil cultivator for who knew how many years, there was no one who hadn't acquired a touch of madness.
The space was without moon or light. Who knew how much time passed.
Gao Fang's expression suddenly returned to normal. Excitement flickered across his face, a faint flush rising on his cheeks.
He murmured to himself: "It's coming, it's coming!"
Gao Fang formed hand seals with both hands, his gaze falling once more on the seated young man's body with its closed eyes.
Just a little longer.
Once the Evil Spirit Sect's people finished their research…
This body he craved so desperately would finally and completely become his!
Gao Fang closed his eyes and opened them again. The arm of the young man — white as jade — filled his vision.
The young man rose to his feet, a sickly smile of anticipation on his face as he walked outward.
Such extraordinary talent — even heaven itself could not bear to let it end like this.
This must be…
A heaven-ordained opportunity.
A heaven-sent opportunity for rebirth!