Mei Meng was the current clan leader of the Ghost Chariot Clan.
This person—and even this name—had rarely appeared in public view over the past millennium. Whenever the outside world spoke of the Ghost Chariot Clan, the impressions were invariably something like “eerie,” mere subordinates of the Jiao Dragon Clan.
In fact, for many years, the Ghost Chariot Clan had indeed been vassals of the Jiao Dragon Clan.
But Mei Meng’s emergence had changed all that.
Shang Si only realized this the moment she saw Mei Meng appear here.
The Ghost Chariot Clan had hidden itself far too deeply. Before today, no one had marked them as a priority target. Everyone assumed the Nine-Headed Birds were simply aiding the Jiao Dragon Demons in their massacres—cleaning up the aftermath, erasing traces.
Yet they had all overlooked one crucial fact: the Nine-Headed Birds, lurking in the shadows behind the Jiao Dragon Clan, had devoured countless souls by now. Just how powerful had they become?
The soul of a single mortal was insignificant. But what of millions upon millions?
Shang Si’s heart sank in that instant.
Inside the Soul-Locking Lamp, Cheng Yan suddenly grew agitated. He battered against the confines of the lamp, howling endlessly: “Mei Meng, save me! Mei Meng! It’s Cheng Yan—I’m in here!”
It was the desperate cry of a man on the brink of death who had glimpsed a lifeline.
“You heard him, Ye Lord. I can’t let you take Cheng Yan away,” Mei Meng said, glancing at Shang Si’s frost-hardened face. She was still smiling, feigning reluctance. “Why don’t you step back and hand him over yourself? We can avoid any unpleasantness that way. After all… I hate to see a beautiful woman like you forced to fight.”
Her words trailed off into “…It would break my heart.” As she spoke, those enchanting eyes of hers seemed to pull one inexorably deeper.
But the moment her voice faded, she lunged at the Soul-Locking Lamp in Shang Si’s grasp, intent on snatching Cheng Yan’s soul.
She struck without warning. Mei Meng might look soft and alluring on the surface, but her attacks were vicious, showing no mercy whatsoever.
Shang Si dodged by a hair’s breadth. After this brief clash, both women had a clear measure of each other’s strength.
“It looks like Cheng Yan isn’t a total waste after all. Or were you too overconfident, Ye Lord, leaving him an opening?” Mei Meng let out a light laugh. Any lingering uncertainty she felt vanished with that exchange.
Shang Si was running on fumes now—outwardly strong but inwardly spent. Dealing with Cheng Yan earlier had already drained over half her spiritual power, and she’d taken a few minor injuries to boot. For Mei Meng, it was the best news possible.
“Shang Girl!” Lin Xiao called out. He’d just finished off the foes rushing his way.
In this dire moment, Shang Si made her call. “Lin Xiao! Qingzhi, go with him. Take the Soul-Locking Lamp back to Yedu and deliver Cheng Yan’s soul to Tang Mo.”
Tang Mo hadn’t joined this expedition to Fog Moon Shoal to hunt the Jiao Dragon Demons. Yedu was their stronghold—they couldn’t strip it bare of defenders.
She thrust the Soul-Locking Lamp into Lin Xiao’s hands, freeing herself to face Mei Meng head-on.
Even if it meant a grueling fight.
“Be careful,” Lin Xiao said curtly. He knew better than to waste breath on empty words. The task Shang Si had given him was vital; today alone, they’d lost countless comrades just to capture the soul trapped in that lamp.
He gave her a solemn nod, then blurred into motion, retreating the way they’d come.
Qingzhi said nothing. She cast a distant glance toward where Qin Xinying was, then fell in silently behind Lin Xiao.
Mei Meng couldn’t help laughing as they tried this right under her nose. “So Ye Lord plans to hold me off alone? You truly don’t take me seriously…” Her words twisted into a demonic grin as she channeled her full spiritual power.
Both hands moved in tandem, weaving some unseen technique.
Shang Si cloaked herself in a faint sheen of spiritual light and charged straight in. “Don’t get cocky!”
But…
“This is—an illusion!”
Shang Si’s blow connected solidly. The Mei Meng before her neither dodged nor flinched, absorbing the hit before crumbling into wisps of sand-like mist.
By the time Shang Si realized her mistake, the real Mei Meng had already overtaken the fleeing Lin Xiao and Qingzhi, clashing with them.
She’d seized that split-second opening.
Mei Meng hadn’t come here to beat Shang Si. Why waste time in a drawn-out brawl when she could feint one way and strike another—grabbing her prize first?
The Soul-Locking Lamp couldn’t be stored in a spatial artifact. Plucking it from the hands of opponents like Lin Xiao and Qingzhi? Child’s play.
One moment it rested in Lin Xiao’s palm; the next, it was in Mei Meng’s.
The ancient oil lamp in her hand flickered with a livelier ghostly blue flame at its core. Cheng Yan’s soul writhed madly within, overcome with joy.
He never dreamed he’d shake off Shang Si and her group so effortlessly, much less that Mei Meng’s power had grown to such terrifying heights.
Cheng Yan’s elation on one side was matched only by the grim darkness on Lin Xiao’s face on the other.
Even before they clashed, an intangible sense of crisis enveloped Lin Xiao. His handsome features hardened as he turned to Qingzhi. “I didn’t sense her approach at all just now.”
“Neither did I.” Qingzhi’s voice had turned frigid, her almond-shaped eyes rimed with frost. “It looks like the Ghost Chariot Clan really has been devouring living souls to boost their strength lately. We’re in deep trouble now.”
The way Mei Meng had closed in on them without a whisper and snatched the Soul-Locking Lamp right out of their hands made it clear: even if a fight broke out next, they wouldn’t come out on top.
Shang Si arrived a mere half-moment later, held up by the illusion, too late to intervene.
Qingzhi glanced at her. “A Si…”
“Look.” Before Qingzhi could finish, Shang Si raised an index finger to her lips, silencing them both as she nodded toward the front.
Cheng Yan clearly believed himself safe by now. His initial surge of joy gave way to impatient urging. “Mei Meng! Hurry up and get us out of here!”
“This isn’t a place to linger. We retreat now and settle the score with them later.”
The dark blue little dragon writhed in the center of the oil lamp. From a distance, it resembled nothing so much as an earthworm or a loach—anything but a proper dragon.
In that brief span, Cheng Yan had already hatched a full revenge scheme. Vindictive to his core, he couldn’t let a humiliation like Yedu’s grand trap today go unanswered.
That was the root of Shang Si and the others’ deep worry. The blood feud was sealed now—a battle to the death.
As long as Cheng Yan survived, the Three Realms would stay in turmoil.
Yet Mei Meng showed no sign of departing after hearing his words. She extended a fingertip to lightly tap the lamp’s surface, brushing the Cheng Yan within. “No rush. We still have unfinished business.”
“What do you mean?” Cheng Yan’s anxiety spiked, his agitation mounting.
He couldn’t fathom what was going through her mind just then, but Shang Si and her two companions nearby felt like a dire threat.
“I mean I don’t feel like leaving yet.” With a playful wink and a light chuckle, Mei Meng let the words slip out.
“You…” Her attitude ignited Cheng Yan’s fury, but realization dawned fast—he still depended on her utterly. His old lofty demeanor wouldn’t fly anymore. “…I know what you’re after. Rest assured, once I’m healed, I won’t shortchange your Ghost Chariot Clan. This isn’t the moment for a head-on clash. Take the Soul-Locking Lamp and go!”
Cheng Yan spilled a torrent of frantic words, laced with promises he figured were generous enough.
At last, Mei Meng’s expression shifted beyond mere amusement. “Oh? No shortchanging us? Do those words hold weight?”
“Absolutely!” Cheng Yan assured her in a rush.
His priority was sweet-talking her into whisking him away first and foremost.
Of course, his true thoughts ran far darker. To Cheng Yan, the Ghost Chariot Clan had served the Jiao Dragon Clan for generations as vassals—or, bluntly put, as slaves.
For these slaves to seize an opportunity and clamber atop their masters in open defiance? Once his strength returned, he’d make them regret it.
“Mm…” Mei Meng appeared swayed by his pledges; the smile fading from her eyes began to rekindle.
Meanwhile, Shang Si and the other two had fanned out into three positions, forming an encirclement to block Mei Meng’s escape routes.
But what came next shattered their expectations entirely.
Mei Meng lashed out at blinding speed—yet her target was none of the three people.
The Soul-Locking Lamp’s shattering rang out sharp and clear in that cramped pocket of space.
Freed from the lamp’s bindings, the ceaselessly wriggling blue dragon saw its hue gradually fade. Mei Meng formed a hand seal with her fingertips and seized it effortlessly… then sank her teeth in.
One bite. Two.
“Those hollow promises don’t stir me in the least. Far better for you to offer yourself up.” In a mere two bites, Mei Meng devoured the living soul as casually as a mortal in the Human Realm took a meal or a sip of water. Afterward, still looking unsatisfied, she furrowed her lovely brows, flicked out her tongue to lick her lips, and offered a faint critique. “Cheng Yan might be worthless, but he carries traces of ancient dragon bloodline. Far more nourishing than your average demon.”
Thanks to the Nine-Headed Bird’s innate talent for soul-devouring, Mei Meng genuinely felt her power surge after consuming him.
With that, she narrowed her slender phoenix eyes and swept her gaze over the three people who had witnessed the entire scene. “What do you think?”
