The next day.

The summit of Wan Jun Peak had once again fallen quiet.

Old Dong had only stayed at the Divine Mansion Sect for a day before descending the mountain, rushing off to another location within Huanglong Prefecture.

Although the seven great masters of the Soul-Chasing Tower had been slain, there were still far too many people in Huanglong Prefecture that Old Dong needed to kill.

Of course, there were also many within the Divine Mansion Sect who didn’t want Dong Wanjun to linger for too long, including the Sect Leader, Murong Tian...

You Shengnan and Xiongshan did not follow Old Dong down the mountain this time, taking the rare opportunity to stay on Wan Jun Peak.

In a small courtyard on the mountainside.

Bai Yuan let out a long breath and closed the copy of the Hundred Poison Hand he was holding.

’The wisdom of the ancients is truly incredible.’

He had stayed up all night reading through all three cultivation technique manuals. Though he hadn’t started cultivating them yet, he was already greatly inspired.

During his previous fight with Dao Ji, his Devil’s Pepper had failed because his technique was wrong—it wasn’t fast enough, nor was it secretive enough.

If he could combine it with the unique methods of the Hundred Poison Hand, not even a Strong Internal Martial Master would be able to dodge it.

Additionally, the formula for the Devil’s Pepper also needed an upgrade.

But before upgrading it, Bai Yuan needed to make a trip to Huanglong Prefecture City.

The Night Wanderer Step was one thing; after all, both the Boxer and Swordsman classes could upgrade body technique-type cultivation techniques. But the Divine Art of a Hundred Changes and the Hundred Poison Hand were different. They were specialized skills essential for an assassin’s survival.

But besides assassins, there was another profession that also frequently used hidden weapons and poisons.

That was the Ghostwriter.

So-called Ghostwriters were actually Jianghu Swordsmen who sold their lives for money. They took a client’s payment and did their bidding, which was usually killing someone. In essence, they weren’t much different from assassins.

The only difference was that they didn’t form organizations like the Soul-Chasing Tower; most of them worked alone.

Because they couldn’t stir up much trouble and posed little threat, the Xuan Yang Court mostly turned a blind eye to them.

...

Huanglong Prefecture, a blacksmith shop in the south of the city.

"Master, I need to buy a saber. Three chi, one cun. Remember to use good steel."

Bai Yuan approached the bare-chested, middle-aged man who was forging iron. He had his face covered, deliberately hiding his true appearance.

CLANG, CLANG, CLANG!

The sound of hammering echoed through the shop. Without looking up, the middle-aged man said, "We’re out of good steel. I do have a piece of black iron, though."

Bai Yuan: "Quick, let me take a look."

Hearing this response, the middle-aged man finally looked up and sized up the young man who had come to his shop. He put down his hammer and tongs and said in a low, muffled voice, "Come inside to talk."

He didn’t react much, simply leading Bai Yuan into the small wooden cabin behind the blacksmith shop.

The middle-aged man closed the door.

"How many sabers?"

Bai Yuan: "Three will be just right."

A smile finally appeared on the middle-aged man’s face. "A Ghostwriter."

That was right. This seemingly ordinary blacksmith shop was the contact point for Ghostwriters in Huanglong Prefecture.

Although most Ghostwriters worked alone, some older ones had taken up the business of being brokers—that is, finding jobs for other Ghostwriters.

These brokers were generally well-connected and well-informed.

And the middle-aged man before him was the biggest broker in all of Huanglong Prefecture.

There were two ways to unlock a new profession: either by maxing out a skill or by triggering a specific event.

If Bai Yuan wanted to become a Ghostwriter, he had to find an Assassin Broker and complete a deal.

You Shengnan was the one who had told him about this place.

His earlier conversation with the middle-aged blacksmith had been a code exchanged between Ghostwriters. If he had said a single word wrong, the man would never have revealed his identity as an Assassin Broker.

Although Ghostwriters weren’t banned by the Xuan Yang, their business was killing, after all, and it was best kept out of the light.

The number of Ghostwriters hunted down and killed by their targets’ allies was truly countless.

Because of this, the Ghostwriter profession had almost no legacy to speak of. Unless they were at their wits’ end, almost no Martial Artist was willing to become one. There were practically no Ghostwriters who had been active for more than three years, because they were almost all dead.

Those who kill must be prepared to be killed.

Dao Ji had been a Ghostwriter for five years, which was how he had earned his reputation in Huanglong Prefecture.

The middle-aged blacksmith took out a worn, blue-covered ledger and handed it to Bai Yuan.

This ledger contained all the jobs the middle-aged blacksmith had procured. It was densely packed with names—the targets for the Ghostwriters. Most of the names had already been crossed out in red ink.

Many Ghostwriters jokingly called this ledger the Book of Life and Death.

Bai Yuan flipped through the ledger.

Besides the names, there were also brief descriptions.

Unlike the Merit Hall of the Divine Mansion Sect, these jobs had no difficulty ratings. It was up to the Ghostwriters to test the waters with their own lives.

Because of this, the death rate for Ghostwriters on missions was extremely high.

Bai Yuan flipped through it quickly.

The targets in the ledger were a motley collection. There were people from Huanglong Prefecture, from outer counties, and even names from other Outer Mansions and Outer States.

In the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, Bai Yuan closed the ledger.

Ghostwriters didn’t need to focus on a single target. Any target in the ledger was fair game; they just had to bring back the head to collect the reward.

Of course, if someone else got to the target first, they would just have to pick another.

Bai Yuan committed several names to memory.

After returning the ledger to the blacksmith, he walked out of the small wooden cabin.

"Come again soon."

The middle-aged blacksmith flashed his yellowed teeth, sending him off like any other customer, arousing no suspicion at all.

...

The sun began to set in the west.

Back in his small courtyard on Wan Jun Peak, Bai Yuan organized the clothes he would need for the night.

A set of pure black clothes...

These Night Clothes had been stripped from a Soul-Chasing Tower assassin. He had to admit, the quality of the Soul-Chasing Tower’s Night Clothes was excellent.

He had already tried them on. They were a perfect fit.

Most Ghostwriters chose to hide their identities. Aside from preventing enemies from seeking revenge, they couldn’t risk implicating their wives and children.

Dao Ji was all alone in the world, which was why he dared to operate so openly as a Ghostwriter.

Since joining the Divine Mansion Sect, he had been trying his best to shed his former Ghostwriter identity and had stopped taking jobs.

Naturally, Bai Yuan didn’t want to expose his identity either.

With these Night Clothes, the chance of him being discovered would be greatly reduced. Not only that, but the Soul-Chasing Tower’s Night Clothes offered excellent concealment in the dark and were easy to move in.

That’s right, he planned to strike tonight.

The people who appeared on the Ghostwriter’s list were no ordinary individuals.

Most of them were being targeted by rival factions who had paid for their deaths.

Bai Yuan had even seen his own name on the Ghostwriter’s list. One thousand taels. Perhaps it was because the price was too low that no Ghostwriter had come after him yet. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

’Looks like I’m not that bad of a person after all.’

After all, the person who hated him was only willing to spend one thousand taels. No Ghostwriter would take a job to kill a Divine Mansion Sect disciple for a mere one thousand taels.

Bai Yuan didn’t care about the reward for completing the mission; he just needed to unlock the Ghostwriter profession. So, he picked a few of the weaker targets.

The red glow outside the window faded, leaving only pitch darkness.

Just as Bai Yuan was about to put on his Night Clothes and head out—

Someone knocked on the courtyard gate.

"Nephew Bai, it’s me, Wang Changsheng."