Chapter 152: Femme Fatale

Cultivation is a path of no return, accompanied not only by bloodshed, but also by parting and death.

Where there is life, there is death; and what is death if not another form of rebirth?

The cycle of all things in the universe, nothing more.

Yet, along such a journey, the heart is carved with wave after wave of deep and shallow scars.

At that very moment, a surge of suction emanated from the Eye of the Nether Dragon upon my chest.

In an instant, my soul appeared before the Dragon Monument within the Hall of the Nether Dragon.

The Gate of Karma on the left flickered, seemingly summoning me.

Since the first trial of the Gate of Reincarnation was already complete, it was time to test the Gate of Karma.

With this thought in mind, I stepped directly through the Gate of Karma.

The moment I crossed the threshold, I froze, realizing I was aboard a moving long-distance bus, with my hand gripping a soft, tender palm.

"Doctor Li, why are you looking at me like that? Go on, tell me when I'll ever meet the true love of my life." The owner of the small hand shot me a playful, reproachful glance, her pretty face blushing slightly as she asked.

Hu Xiaoyu?

Could this be a return to the time when the medical aid team was heading towards the Hundred Caves Miao Village?

Karma, after all, every cause has its effect!

A sudden realization dawned upon me: as the seed is sown, so the fruit is borne.

If I had never entangled myself with Hu Xiaoyu, would she have avoided dying to save me?

Thus, I made my choice, treating her with absolute coldness.

What followed unfolded just as before—the little ghost in red, the desolate ancient mansion.

Yet, an unexpected tragedy struck: Hu Xiaoyu died at the hands of Zhang Ruyue.

And with that, the trial of karma failed.

I opened my eyes, gazing out at the endless sea, and suddenly understood.

If the trial of the Gate of Reincarnation was a test of raw power, then the trial of the Gate of Karma was a test of the state of mind.

Hu Xiaoyu had become a lingering obsession within my heart, and I had to resolve this obsession before my state of mind could ascend to a higher realm.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Director Zhou's number once again.

"It's me, Qin Feng." The moment the line connected, I spoke.

"Qin Feng, you brat, was the slaughter of the Eastern Ocean's Misono clan really your doing?" The old fox Zhou asked. I could hear the heavy turbulence in his emotions.

"The Eastern Ocean has intelligence agents infiltrating our Hua Nation—you don't expect me to believe we have none of our own, do you? So let's dispense with asking questions we already know the answers to," I replied.

"You brat, do you have any idea what kind of storm you've stirred up? If you had to do it, why did you have to reveal your identity?" Director Zhou demanded.

"I revealed it, but you can always deny it," I answered indifferently.

"Fine, let's set that aside. When are you coming back?" Director Zhou asked.

"Depends on my mood. I don't feel like coming back just yet," I said.

"You... Do you even know that the breach in the Southern Su Nether Rift has torn open, and it took one hundred thousand lives just to stabilize it?" Director Zhou said, his voice laced with agitation.

I fell silent as a surge of vicious intent welled up from the depths of my heart. I roared, "You know full well how many people shed their blood to defend our homeland, but what about the Shang clan? What are they doing? They colluded with the Eastern Ocean, causing countless innocent people to die miserably! This is treason! How have you handled them? Why have I heard that the Shang clan's position remains as secure as Mount Tai, with no one holding them accountable? I gave you the evidence you wanted."

"The evidence you provided only proves the evil deeds committed by the Eastern Ocean. Although Koji Misono mentioned Shang Wuwu, without catching Shang Wuwu meeting and conspiring with him, it is far from constituting ironclad proof," Director Zhou argued.

"Whether it's the truth or not, I refuse to believe you don't know," I said coldly.

"Qin Feng, you understand the current situation as well. Do you not realize what the consequences would be if civil unrest broke out right now?" Director Zhou rebuked sternly.

I let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "I know. That's precisely why my heart turns cold."

With that, I hung up the phone.

The cruise ship docked in Huashui City, Southern Su, Hua Nation. Stepping off the vessel and gazing at the bustling wharf while listening to the familiar language gave me a surreal sensation, as if I had been reborn.

In truth, I had indeed been reborn from the fires. From the nuclear explosion on Yunxin Island, to breaking through to become a senior Onmyoji, and finally seeking vengeance against the Eastern Ocean's Tianshu Dao—having wandered on the brink of life and death, the world I saw now was fundamentally different.

"There's no need for you to follow me. Go do whatever you must, but when I require your presence, you must appear," I commanded the dozen loyal death-seekers of the Misono clan trailing behind me, before walking alone into the surging crowd.

As night fell, I casually stepped into a bar in Huashui.

Amidst the deafening music, several enchanting women wearing ultra-short skirts and plunging necklines that revealed snow-white expanses were dancing passionately on stage. Below, a crowd drank while swaying, releasing pent-up hormones with nowhere else to go.

I sat at the bar counter, ordering a large draft beer, savoring the decadent intoxication and indulgence of the night, feeling almost as if I had returned to the days of being a humble little doctor in Linjiang.

Who said an Onmyoji must bury himself in bitter cultivation and ignore the mundane affairs of the mortal world?

I lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and slowly exhaled the smoke.

The Nether Rift of Southern Su lay deep within the Wolong Mountain Range; perhaps I should find time to pay it a visit.

"Handsome, can I have one?" Just then, a mesmerizing woman with voluminous wavy hair and a low-cut red dress sat down beside me, her voice alluring and husky.

I glanced at the woman, flicked a cigarette forward, and handed it to her.

"And spare me a light." Taking the cigarette, the woman reached out, plucked the half-smoked cigarette straight from my lips, lit her own with it, and placed it back between her lips.

"My name is An Mo. You look a bit unfamiliar, handsome. First time here?" The woman propped her head in one hand, gazing at me with a mesmerizing, seductive look.

"That's right. It seems you're a regular here, though," I replied with a smile.

"I'm the resident singer here." An Mo fluttered her eyelashes at me, her red-heeled toes intentionally or unintentionally brushing against my foot.

Looking down at An Mo's slender, fair legs, I lowered my voice and said, "Nice legs."

"Just nice legs?" An Mo teased, puffing her chest out slightly.

"Nice breasts, too," I replied with a calm smile, estimating them to be at least a C-cup.

An Mo leaned forward, revealing a deep cleavage. Reaching out, she gently stroked my cheek and cooed softly, "I'm going up to sing a song. Wait for me—I'll show you that I'm much more than just 'nice'."

On stage, the alluring dancers stepped down, and An Mo walked up with half a cigarette still between her fingers.

As she stood there, whistles immediately erupted from the crowd below.

"Thank you all for coming. I am An Mo, and I'd like to dedicate a song titled *Acacia* to you." An Mo tossed her hair back, the music swelled, and she began to sing in her slightly raspy, enchanting voice.

I drained the beer in my cup, listened for a few moments, and found it quite pleasant.

This woman was a natural siren; her slightly husky voice could make a man's very bones melt with longing.

Yet, for some reason, a sudden wave of ennui washed over me.

I smiled self-deprecatingly. My state of mind had changed; I could never truly return to the past.

When An Mo finished her song, she returned to the spot where I had been sitting, only to find two banknotes pressed beneath an empty glass—and no sign of me.

An Mo bit her lower lip, then suddenly rushed out of the bar.

Emerging into the night, she caught sight of that familiar figure.

"Hey..." An Mo called out, hurrying after him.

"Hey beauty, you're so sexy. Come keep big brother company for a while." At that moment, a drunken young man abruptly grabbed An Mo's arm.

"Let go, get lost!" An Mo struggled fiercely.

"Stinking bitch, refusing a toast only to drink a forfeit," the youth raged, raising a hand to slap An Mo across the face.

An Mo let out a shrill scream and closed her eyes, but she felt no impact. Instead, she heard the drunken man let out a howl of agony.

Opening her eyes, she saw that the man had returned, his large hand gripping the drunkard's wrist like an iron vise.

"Get lost," I muttered coldly, flicking my wrist. The drunkard was sent flying through the air, crashing heavily to the ground, unable to even crawl back up.

An Mo stared at me in a daze and whispered, "Thank you."

"Just a little effort," I replied indifferently.

"You broke your word. Didn't you say you'd wait for me?" An Mo reached out and looped her arm around mine.

"I don't recall making any such promise," I answered calmly.

"Will you walk me home? I'm a little scared." An Mo pressed herself against my body, a hint of intoxication lingering in her eyes.

I looked at the woman beside me, raised an eyebrow, let my gaze flicker for a fraction of a second, and smiled faintly. "Alright."

An Mo's home wasn't far away—a village-in-the-city surrounded by towering skyscrapers, characterized by low shanties and long, dark alleys where youths with dyed hair frequently lurked.