Chapter 285: The Death of Ma Pingfan

“Boss, do you have sesame paste?” A man in a black hood pushed open the door, the scent of fragrant oil wafting in with him.

“Yes, how much would you like?” The waiter greeted him enthusiastically. He didn’t find the man’s attire strange at all—in the capital of Xuanji Kingdom, people of all types mingled, and nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Two bottles. One with two taels, and the other also with two taels.”

The waiter thought this customer had a funny way of speaking. Just as he was about to crack a joke, he felt someone tapping his shoulder.

He turned and saw the always-smiling shopkeeper.

“I’ll handle this guest. You may go.”

“Yes.”

The shopkeeper gave the hooded man an apologetic smile. “The new guy doesn’t know the rules. Aside from the two bottles of sesame paste, what else would you like?”

“Five pieces of red fermented bean curd, and one piece of white fermented bean curd. Pack them together.”

The shopkeeper froze, thinking he had misheard.

This shop, on the surface, sold grain and oil, but in reality, it was a front for the assassin organization Death Bell Tower’s small branch in Xuanji Kingdom.

Death Bell Tower was shrouded in mystery. Only cultivators who had long walked in the shadows knew of such places and the coded language.

Ordering two bottles of sesame paste was code—it meant business. The new waiter didn’t know that, so the shopkeeper stepped in to avoid upsetting the customer.

The fermented bean curd indicated the target’s level. One piece of red meant Qi Refining Stage, two pieces meant Foundation Establishment Stage, and so on. Five pieces meant Soul Formation Stage.

The white fermented bean curd indicated the substage—one piece meant Early Stage.

This guest wanted to assassinate a Soul Formation Stage cultivator at the early stage!

In decades of doing this, it was the first time the shopkeeper had encountered such a massive order.

He’d already received word from above that Death Bell Tower headquarters had relocated to the Celestial Dynasty, and all disciples were to report there. He didn’t expect to land such a big job just before leaving.

“Is there a problem?” Yu Feng asked.

“As long as you can pay the corresponding price, of course there’s no problem.” The shopkeeper became even more enthusiastic.

Whether Yu Feng was telling the truth didn’t matter. Death Bell Tower always required full payment upfront. Whether they completed the job was another matter—there were plenty of cases where they took the money and didn’t deliver.

Yu Feng took out two storage rings.

“These are?” The shopkeeper wanted to know what was inside.

“According to your rules, you’re only allowed to hand the rings to your superiors—they decide. You don’t have the right to know what’s in them.”

“My apologies.”

The shopkeeper now understood that this man was likely a formidable figure. Anyone who could afford to commission a Soul Formation assassination had to be Soul Formation himself.

This was Soul Formation business. As the lowest-ranked disciple of Death Bell Tower, he wasn’t about to get involved.

…

After being reported up several levels, the two rings were delivered to a Soul Formation assassin.

He opened one of the rings.

“A… cultivation technique?” The assassin expected spirit stones, not a manual.

“Could it be a technique that reaches the Fusion Stage?”

He casually flipped through a few pages, then looked like he’d seen a ghost. His hands trembled, and he flung the book away.

It was his own technique.

“T-this is impossible!” The usually composed assassin lost control of his emotions.

His cultivation method was top secret, known only to the Tower Master. Why would the Tower Master play a joke like this?!

He took a few deep breaths and remembered the second ring.

“It must be a coincidence. No way the other ring also contains my technique. Right, it’s probably just another early Soul Formation technique—nothing more.”

He found he couldn’t open the second ring.

After trying several times, he realized it had a special restriction. Without the right method, forcing it open would only destroy it.

The matter gnawed at him like a bone stuck in his throat. He couldn’t rest until it was resolved.

The assassin had no choice but to seek out the Tower Master.

Death Bell Tower Master—Fusion Stage cultivation.

“Is that so?” Hearing the report, the Tower Master grew interested. He had never heard of something like this before.

“No restrictions—it opens easily.” The ring that the assassin couldn’t open, the Tower Master unlocked without effort.

Inside the other ring was another technique manual.

He flipped through a few pages, and his face darkened, killing intent surging. “You… didn’t see what’s inside, did you?”

It was his own technique.

The assassin felt like he’d fallen into an icy pit and quickly swore he couldn’t open the ring.

The Tower Master believed him. If he had opened it, why would he come here?

In fact, the Tower Master was more afraid than the assassin. His technique was a secret known to no one else.

“This is a threat.” The Tower Master pondered for a long time before arriving at this conclusion.

As for the mysterious client, he harbored no ill will—only deep fear.

I know your cultivation technique. This job—you take it, or you take it.

“Let me see the ring you could open.” The Tower Master found that the ring the assassin could open, he couldn’t.

Then he realized both rings had restrictions—they could only be opened by someone practicing a specific technique.

In other words, these two rings were custom-made for them.

“What a brilliant mastery of the Dao of Space.”

In the Tongu World, the Dao of Space was nearly lost. Even Fusion Stage cultivators barely understood it.

“Looks like this senior is a virtuous man,” the Tower Master smiled. He already regarded the client as a hidden master, on par with a Heavenly Lord.

What good would fear or nervousness do? Could you fight back against someone like that?

“What do you mean?” the assassin asked, confused.

The Tower Master gave a mocking smile. “Guess what would’ve happened if you opened that ring and saw my cultivation technique. Do you think you’d walk out of here alive?”

The assassin broke out in a cold sweat and silently felt grateful toward the mysterious customer.

“If the senior can’t act directly, then let Death Bell Tower handle it.”

“Who’s the target?” The assassin suddenly remembered—he only knew it was a Soul Formation target, but not the name. The mysterious client hadn’t said.

“Ma Pingfan.”

The last page of the Tower Master’s manual had four big characters.

Kill Ma Pingfan.

…

Ma Pingfan awoke from meditation and stretched lazily. He thought Xuanji Kingdom was a great place.

A great place to unleash the Devouring Grand Technique.

“If I can unleash it, I should be able to break through to mid-Soul Formation.” Ma Pingfan sensed he’d hit a bottleneck and needed external help.

“I don’t think you’ll live to see mid-Soul Formation.” A sinister voice whispered in his ear.

“Who’s there?” Ma Pingfan became alert. For someone to sneak up on him like this, they had to be Soul Formation too.

He turned his head sharply—and saw an old man, legs crossed, sipping tea leisurely. A Soul Formation assassin stood beside him, attending like a servant.

Ma Pingfan stumbled back a few steps, pressing against the wall.

He forced a smile and cupped his hands. “So it’s the esteemed Tower Master of Death Bell. I apologize for not welcoming you earlier. May I ask why—”

“Cut it out. I don’t go in for formalities,” the Tower Master waved impatiently. “Let’s keep it simple. How do you want to die?”

“Tower Master, does Elder Blood River know about this?” Trying to survive, Ma Pingfan called Blood River Ancestor “teacher” to curry favor.

The Tower Master sneered. “You think I need that old ghoul’s permission to kill you?”

Ma Pingfan panicked. The Tower Master didn’t even respect Blood River Ancestor—his killing intent was clear.

He cried out, “You can’t do this! Elder Blood River wouldn’t—”

“Enough whining. Since you won’t pick, I’ll choose for you.”

The Tower Master drained his tea and casually flung the cup.

The teacup turned into thousands of flying blades that flayed Ma Pingfan, carving flesh from bone until only a skeleton remained.

“Let’s go. I hope the senior is satisfied.”

The Tower Master rose, with the Soul Formation assassin close behind.

After today, he was officially the Tower Master’s trusted confidant.