Chapter 357: Power
The jade seal’s confidence made Xu Youyou swallow the words she was about to say. Instead, she asked,
“What do you want me to do?”
“Pick me up and press me against your heart!” the Imperial Jade Seal instructed.
Although Xu Youyou was puzzled, she still picked it up and pressed it hard against her chest.
She used so much force that she felt as if one of her ribs might have cracked. A sharp, intense pain shot through her chest.
But this time, the pain was different. It gave her an odd sensation—painful yet oddly pleasurable. A searing heat spread from her chest to every part of her body, gradually shifting from burning to a warm, comforting sensation.
It felt as if she were basking in the sunlight of a gentle spring day, her entire body enveloped in warmth.
At the same time, deep within a hidden mountain cave in Xiang Province, a gut-wrenching scream echoed through the air.
“Xiao Wu! Xiao Wu!”
A scar-faced man, guarding the cave entrance, heard the shout and rushed toward the depths of the cave.
“Big Brother, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice trembling, his face full of panic.
Clearly, he had never seen his leader in such a state before.
“Blood! Human flesh! I need human flesh!” the Red Dragon King howled in agony.
The scar-faced man immediately ran back to the entrance, grabbed Wu Xiaoguang, and dragged him toward the depths of the cave.
Wu Xiaoguang had already been terrified by the previous screams. He didn’t know what was hidden inside the cave, but the overpowering stench of blood in the air made him struggle violently.
“Big Brother, I have money! My grandaunt doesn’t have money! My whole family is full of high-status people—professors, government officials! If they find out you kidnapped me, you’ll be in big trouble!”
Wu Xiaoguang’s threats meant nothing to the scar-faced man. He didn’t even bother responding and continued dragging him forward.
When they reached the deepest part of the cave, Wu Xiaoguang froze in horror.
Just moments ago, he had heard the desperate cries of men and women. Now, all that remained were three piles of rotting flesh. If not for the blood-soaked clothing, it would have been impossible to tell they were once human.
The scar-faced man, however, seemed unfazed. He casually pulled out a boning knife and asked, “Big Brother, should I start bleeding him now?”
At the center of the ritual altar, the Red Dragon King lay motionless, his chest pitch-black, emitting the scent of burned flesh—as if he had been set on fire.
“Bring him here! Hurry! I can’t hold on much longer!” the Red Dragon King urged.
The scar-faced man, unguarded, dragged Wu Xiaoguang directly to the altar’s center.
The Red Dragon King grabbed Wu Xiaoguang with his right hand.
Wu Xiaoguang screamed in agony. It felt like he had been clutched by a red-hot iron, the searing pain unbearable.
At the same time, the Red Dragon King’s left hand reached out and grabbed the scar-faced man.
“Big Brother?” the scar-faced man asked, confused.
The Red Dragon King, still writhing in pain, muttered, “Xiao Wu, your body is full of yang energy. Right now, you’re the only one who can keep me alive.”
The scar-faced man began struggling frantically. “Big Brother, I’ve always treated you like my real brother—”
Before he could finish his sentence, his words turned into a strangled cry.
He had mocked Wu Xiaoguang, saying he wouldn’t live long, yet he himself dissolved even faster.
Wu Xiaoguang watched in horror as a living person melted before his eyes. His soul almost left his body in fear.
“P-Please… let me go…!”
But the Red Dragon King’s pain only grew worse. Though there were no flames around him, he felt as if he were being consumed by fire, unable to live or die.
In his delirium, a vision appeared before him—Xu Youyou, holding a jade seal, pressing it down forcefully.
Of course, the Red Dragon King recognized the eight strange characters carved on the seal.
“No… It can’t be… She actually obtained the Imperial Jade Seal…!”
With the last of his strength, he screamed out these words, but the empty cave swallowed his voice. No one heard him.
As death loomed over him, his mind swirled with regret.
He was the founder of the Three Saints Sect, a man who had dominated the occult world for decades. He was revered by thousands, feared by his peers. Wealthy and powerful people begged for his help, offering fortunes just for his assistance.
Yet, in the end, he wasn’t defeated by rival sorcerers—but by a young girl.
No… This isn’t how it was supposed to be!
The Red Dragon King didn’t know when things had gone so wrong.
To Xu Youyou, their encounters were few. But over the past three years, every treasure he sought ended up in her hands, time and time again.
At first, he thought it was just bad luck. But after it happened repeatedly, his hatred for Xu Youyou grew uncontrollably. He resented her for always getting ahead of him. He even blamed the Gu family for failing to control their daughter.
The Red Dragon King had once been a disciple of a great sect, trained by a reclusive master in the most orthodox Daoist arts. His sect followed strict traditions—helping the poor without charging a fee, and accepting only a single meal as payment from the rich.
Despite all his efforts, his skills barely earned him enough to survive.
He recalled the day he went astray.
It was when he saw conmen—charlatans with no real skills—raking in fortunes through deception, while he, a true master, remained impoverished because of his sect’s outdated rules.
The world outside the mountains was too tempting. He soon lost himself in its luxuries. He needed money—a lot of money. He began charging exorbitant fees.
But word reached his master, who, after twenty years in seclusion, came down the mountain to stop him.
His master was strict. Seeing that he was beyond redemption, he decided to expel him from the sect permanently.
But the Red Dragon King was cunning. Before his master could strip him of his powers, he struck first—killing the very man who had raised and cared for him like a father.
He fled to Thailand, learning foreign occult techniques and combining them with his own. He established the Three Saints Sect and gained a massive following in China.
Originally, Daoist magic was fueled by karmic merit—helping others to accumulate spiritual power. Money was never the focus.
But after betraying his sect and losing his purity, he could no longer cultivate orthodox Daoist techniques. If he wanted power, he had to steal it.
From where?
From antiques.
Time itself granted ancient objects a special kind of energy, imbued by the lives of those who once owned them.
When his wealth grew vast, the only way to increase his power was by destroying these artifacts—absorbing their energy, even if it was only a fraction of the original power.
As he lay dying, he regretted not killing Xu Youyou sooner.
If only he had obtained the Imperial Jade Seal first—what kind of god-like power would he have now…?
