A Pawn's Passage-Chapter 564: Layer Upon Layer

Yao Pei suddenly reached out and captured a faintly translucent shadow that bore a strong resemblance to Hu Jiaode. It was semi-transparent and slightly blurred, looking like three overlapping identical figures. Their misaligned edges revealed their fragmented nature.

Hu Jiaode’s soul had already dispersed, but his Three Corpses still lingered in the mortal realm.

Qi Xuansu immediately realized that Yao Pei was using the Soul-Searching Technique.

The Three Corpses retained fragmented memories from their host’s life. Upon turning into ghosts, they could even mistake themselves for their original host. However, these memories were incomplete and chaotic, rendering the ghosts incapable of rational communication. They could only be suppressed or exterminated. Only an extremely rare few could develop sentience over time, but even then, they would be entirely separate entities, disconnected from their former host.

Using the Soul-Searching Technique on the Three Corpses was akin to rolling dice—whether anything useful could be extracted was purely a matter of luck.

Since the Three Corpses lacked a physical body, they were incredibly fragile without absorbing stray incense power. Thus, they could not withstand the immense strain of the Soul-Searching Technique and began to rapidly disintegrate.

In other words, there was only one chance to extract information, with no room for retries.

If there had been any other way, Yao Pei would not have resorted to such a gamble.

As Hu Jiaode’s Three Corpses continued to dissolve, numerous fragmented memories surfaced in Yao Pei’s mind.

These memory fragments were presented from Hu Jiaode’s own perspective, so Yao Pei was immersed in his experiences. Typically, the more intense and deeply ingrained a memory was, the more likely it was to be preserved. Yet, strangely, these fragments showed no clear connection to the Ziguang Society.

The first memory was of disposing of a corpse.

A completely unrecognizable corpse lay before him, its features obliterated beyond distinction, so much so that one could not even tell whether it had been male or female. Hu Jiaode retrieved an exquisitely crafted vial and evenly sprinkled a fine powder all over the body.

Almost immediately, the corpse began to sizzle and emit faint wisps of smoke. A yellowish fluid started seeping out, its flow gradually increasing, while releasing an acrid, burnt stench. The body visibly shrank as the liquid consumed it. The yellow corpse liquid continued to spread, dissolving even the remaining scraps of clothing into smoke upon contact.

In mere moments, the entire body had been reduced to corpse liquid, leaving behind not a single trace. Not even bones remained.

The next memory fragment depicted a murder.

The murderer was none other than Hu Jiaode himself, and the victim was a female Daoist. Hu Jiaode’s sword pierced straight through the woman’s heart. Her face was filled with disbelief, as if even in death, she could not fathom that he had dared to kill her.

Hu Jiaode was clearly stunned, standing frozen for a long time while his sword and entire body trembled in fear.

Perhaps what Hu Jiaode feared was not the act of killing itself, but the possibility that he had killed the wrong person.

After a while, Hu Jiaode seemed to snap out of his daze. His overwhelming fear suddenly turned into rage, as he began hacking at the woman’s body wildly with his sword. He did not use sword qi or any techniques—he simply slashed and hacked the body at random until the corpse became unrecognizable to vent his emotions.

The following memory was of catching an adulterer in the act.

Hu Jiaode’s breathing was heavy, and his vision was unsteady. His steps were uneven as he staggered through the grand entrance of a five-story building. A golden plaque above the doorway read “Taiping Inn,” its gilded characters gleaming brilliantly in the night under the glow of the red lanterns.

Everywhere he looked, only black and red filled his vision. His breath came in ragged gasps, his heart beating like thunder. A prickling sensation crawled up his back as a whirlwind of emotions churned within him.

He shoved aside the attendant blocking his path and made his way to a room on the third floor. There, he stood motionless before the door for a long time. But as soon as he heard the sounds coming from within, all his emotions were replaced by pure wrath.

Consumed by rage, Hu Jiaode kicked the door open and stormed inside. What greeted him was the sight of a naked man and woman entangled in each other's embrace, displaying an obscene amount of pale, bare skin.

The final memory Yao Pei extracted was of Hu Jiaode's vacant eyes staring blankly ahead, unfocused.

A voice echoed from all directions, as if someone was hiding just beyond his field of vision, speaking as they walked. “You killed someone. You killed your own Daoist companion.”

“I didn’t kill anyone! My Daoist companion was slain by the cult demons!” Hu Jiaode retorted.

The voice continued, “Do you think that Beichen Hall and Fengxian Hall will believe you? When a spouse dies, the surviving partner is always the prime suspect. That’s the most basic principle of an investigation. Surely you’re aware of that.”

“Say whatever you want!” Hu Jiaode’s breathing grew heavy once more.

“Don’t get agitated, and don’t even think about drawing your sword. You can’t kill me.” The voice spoke at an unhurried pace.

Hu Jiaode spun around abruptly, only to catch a fleeting shadow. “What do you want?!”

At that moment, Hu Jiaode’s Three Corpses could no longer hold together. They dissipated into wisps of green smoke, taking all the fragmented memories with them. But Yao Pei had seen enough.

“What did you find?” Qi Xuansu asked.

The white haze in Yao Pei’s eyes gradually faded as she replied, “A scapegoat. From what I’ve seen, this man was indeed guilty of something, but it had nothing to do with secret societies.”

She briefly recounted to Qi Xuansu the memories she had just witnessed.

“Zhang Juyan seems suspicious.” Qi Xuansu’s reaction was swift. “For us to uncover such a major clue so early in our investigation is too much of a coincidence. Something feels off.”

Yao Pei neither confirmed nor denied his suspicion. “Explain your reasoning.”

Qi Xuansu reasoned, “It’s obvious. Hu Jiaode first caught his partner in an affair, then accidentally killed her in a fit of rage. After that, he disposed of the body. He must have used some method to evade Beichen Hall’s investigation and eventually infiltrated the Wanxiang Daoist Palace as a Special-Rank Golden Purple Instructor, essentially living under an assumed identity.

“But because the person he killed was his own Daoist companion, he could never forgive himself. That explains why he was so withdrawn, avoiding contact with others. It also explains why he didn’t even attempt to defend himself when we showed up—he assumed the truth had finally come to light and that there was nothing left to argue. After being tormented by guilt for so many years, he had already gone mad. That’s why he fought with such reckless, suicidal desperation.

“Even after fleeing here, he did nothing but pace back and forth. That aligns perfectly with the state of panic he was in after committing murder. If we had arrived a little later, he might have killed himself. This is the kind of reaction you’d expect from a flowerbed Daoist, not from a member of a secret society. The cultists are all ruthless outlaws who thrive on danger, so how could someone this fragile be one of them? If it weren’t for Hu Jiaode’s initial desperation in combat, we wouldn’t have mistaken him for a true threat.”

Yao Pei glanced at Qi Xuansu. “Go on.”

“But someone else knew about Hu Jiaode’s past and used it to blackmail him.” Qi Xuansu continued, “And who is the most suspicious? If we connect the dots, there’s only one answer—Zhang Juyan. Think about it. The very first time I visited, he conveniently provided us with this clue about Hu Jiaode. What are the chances of that? It’s far too coincidental, so it had to be intentional.”

Yao Pei nodded. “If your theory holds, then Zhang Juyan deliberately misled us toward Hu Jiaode. That means he already anticipated that we would analyze the sword qi left on the flying sword and trace it back to its source. That’s why he deliberately imitated Hu Jiaode’s Beidou 36 Swords to misdirect us. Then, through conversation, he subtly guided us toward Hu Jiaode. He knew Hu Jiaode had a guilty conscience and understood his personality well, betting on the fact that Hu Jiaode would never dare face us head-on in an interrogation. If Hu Jiaode killed himself or was slain by us, then it would be the perfect resolution. After all, a dead man tells no tales.”

Qi Xuansu agreed. “That makes sense.”

“If all of this is true, then Zhang Juyan has set up two layers of deception,” Yao Pei stated. “The first layer was using Qi Jianyuan’s flying sword to silence the female instructor, making it seem as though they perished together. The second layer was using Hu Jiaode as a scapegoat. That way, even if someone saw through the first deception, they would only trace it back to Hu Jiaode.”

Yao Pei paused slightly before continuing, “With someone so meticulous, having planned so many steps ahead, don’t you think he might have also accounted for the possibility that we wouldn’t fall for his trap?”

Qi Xuansu was taken aback. “That’s hard to say, but he probably did.”

Yao Pei added, “If he has anticipated this, then it would mean we’re playing into his hands if we go back to Zhang Juyan now. Do you think he would still be sitting in his residence, waiting for us to knock on his door?”

Qi Xuansu had to admit that her reasoning was sound.

A foe like this could not be overestimated. It was always better to assume the worst.

Qi Xuansu probed, “So what do you suggest?”

Yao Pei replied, “I don’t want to follow his lead. Let him play his game, while we play ours. No matter what tricks he sets up, or how many angles he approaches from, we just need to stay focused on a single path. As long as we understand what he truly wants, we’ll always have him by the tail.”

Qi Xuansu finally understood. “The special vessel to store the incense power inside the statue of the Confucian Sage must be with Zhang Juyan if it’s not with Hu Jiaode.”

Yao Pei reached out, summoning all her flying daggers back into her hands. Then she said, “Let’s head to the Star Observation Deck.”

R𝑒ad latest chapt𝒆rs at freewebnovёl.ƈom Only.

Qi Xuansu hesitated. “Shouldn’t we inform Sage Sun as soon as possible?”

“I will inform him,” Yao Pei replied. “But first, let’s go to the Star Observation Deck to confirm our theory.”

Qi Xuansu no longer objected and followed Yao Pei as they soared toward the Star Observation Deck.

Since there were fewer formation restrictions in the Lower Palace, the flight prohibitions were also less strict. They could fly at a low altitude here—just slightly below the Upper Palace—to avoid triggering the boundary formations.

In the blink of an eye, the two had arrived at the Star Observation Deck.

Unlike the lively scene during the Zhongyuan Festival, the Star Observation Deck was now eerily silent; not a single soul was present. However, the full moon was exquisite—perfect for moongazing.

Below the deck was the field of white reed flowers. Aside from the open space where Qi Xuansu fought Qi Jianyuan, the rest of the area remained lush and dense.

At that moment, a lone figure stood amidst the field of white reed flowers, robes billowing in the wind. The deep blue lake reflecting the beautiful moon and shimmering stars made a stunning backdrop.