Chapter 115: The Tracking Talisman Hidden in a Sugar-Coated Shell

Shen Yan stared at the reddish copper coin hair tie on Yu Xiaotang’s ring finger, his pupils contracting sharply.

It wasn’t residual signal—it was a tracker that had just been activated!

His fingertips tapped frantically on the shattered phone, pulling up the 【Short-Term Retrospective Analysis】. The terminal screen lagged twice before finally displaying a waveform diagram: the talisman’s energy fluctuation showed a 0.7-second latency deviation from Yu Xiaotang’s usual talisman arrays.

“It was remotely tampered with,” he gritted his teeth. “This thing isn’t a rescue talisman at all—it’s a sugar-coated shell!”

Before his words faded, Yu Xiaotang suddenly flung out a pink talisman paper, shooting straight toward Shen Yan’s face. A sweet strawberry fragrance drifted through the air.

Luo Li reacted swiftly, her fox tail sweeping out to deflect the talisman, but it curved mid-air, grazing the tip of her tail before slapping firmly onto Shen Yan’s chest.

“Damn it!”

The talisman instantly melted, transforming into a crimson data stream that burrowed into his collar. The sealing formation patterns around the power plant suddenly lit up, crackling loudly. The previously cracked energy pillars began to reassemble, the hum of electric currents exploding like a swarm of bees.

“Game over.”

Ye Shi’er’s voice echoed from all directions, devoid of emotion, like an automated system broadcast.

Immediately after, all mirrors shattered simultaneously, fragments floating in the air, each reflecting distorted human faces—all of them were Mystic Gate disciples who had been modified, their eye sockets dripping with code, their limbs stiff like marionettes.

“No matter how strong the code you write, you can’t escape the tracking of blood relatives,” Ye Shi’er’s voice sounded again. “The tracking talisman inside her was planted by my own hand. Did you think she was helping you? She was only finding you for me.”

A metallic taste rose in Shen Yan’s throat as he forcibly suppressed the surging qi and blood. The wound on his shoulder was still oozing blood, his left arm faintly numb, and the operation speed of his source code spiritual root had already dropped to thirty percent.

He looked up to see Yu Xiaotang, her ankles entangled by several black data chains, being slowly dragged toward the central energy pillar. Her brows were tightly furrowed, her lips moving slightly as if struggling, yet no sound came out.

“Don’t… touch that talisman…” she finally squeezed out a few words before being interrupted by violent convulsions.

Luo Li bit the tip of her tongue, spraying a mouthful of vital blood into her palm. Her hands quickly formed seals, drawing a burning contract pattern on the ground. Purple flames surged, forming a temporarily effective 【Void Realm Buffer Array】. The first wave of charging data puppets suddenly slowed, as if sinking into viscous liquid.

That was the moment.

Shen Yan seized the opportunity, jamming the shattered phone into the control panel interface. The screen flickered twice before barely loading the 【Automated Defense Subprogram】 interface.

“Initiate firewall, triple encryption, hold on for me!”

Three translucent light screens materialized out of thin air, blocking the front. The data puppets crashed into them, emitting a piercing friction sound, temporarily held at bay.

Luo Li panted as she leaned against him, her tail scorched and curled, the Star-Shattering Token imitation on her right ear completely shattered, leaving only a bloody mark.

“Can you still write code?” she asked.

“Yes,” Shen Yan grinned, his smile uglier than a grimace. “As long as this damn phone isn’t completely dead.”

His trembling fingers pulled up the terminal’s final emergency protocol. A line of red text popped up:

【Detected double trap. Recommend initiating ‘Emotional Detachment Protocol’ to enhance computational precision.】

The next second, the complete option appeared:

【Initiate Emotional Detachment Protocol】

• Clear disruptive emotional fluctuations

-Computational accuracy increased by forty-seven percent.

-Permanently block the emotion recognition module for “Yu Xiaotang.”

Shen Yan stared at the line of text, his finger hovering over the confirm button, unable to press it.

Countless images flashed through his mind—

Yu Xiaotang grinning foolishly as she munched on candied hawthorn, handing him a band-aid after her talisman paper blew his hair into a mess;

Secretly modifying his challenge script during the Talisman Dao conference, muttering, “This code is too ugly, I’ll just fix it while I’m at it”;

In the ventilation ducts of the amusement park, stepping on his shoulders to climb out, then turning back to offer him a hand, her ponytail swaying like a rattle-drum.

If he deleted this module…

He would never recognize her again.

Not as an enemy, nor as a threat unit.

Just a variable to be assessed, processed, and eliminated.

“Hah.” He suddenly laughed.

As he laughed, his eyes grew a little warm.

“I write code to live,” he whispered. “Not to become a machine.”

His finger slammed down, inputting the 【Delete】 command.

The terminal screen went black for a moment.

Then, a line of small text slowly appeared:

“…Understood. Switching to ‘Bond Driver Mode.'”

Shen Yan took a deep breath and looked up at Yu Xiaotang, locked at the top of the energy pillar.

“Xiaotang, can you hear me?”

Her eyelashes fluttered, but she didn’t open her eyes.

Shen Yan tore off the melted remnants of the talisman paper from his chest, stuffed it into his phone’s interface, and injected a reverse parsing program in reverse.

“You say you’re a Talisman Dao genius, so let me ask you—if a talisman paper is drawn wrong, can it be fixed?”

No response.

He ignored it, continuing to type code, coughing up blood while muttering, “If it can’t be fixed, redraw it. If it’s ruined, burn it and start over. Weren’t you always the one who loved fixing my bugs while eating candied hawthorn? Now it’s my turn.”

Luo Li watched him, then suddenly reached out and grasped his other hand.

“If she dares to die,” she said, “I’ll personally drag her back from the cycle of reincarnation and beat her up.”

Shen Yan laughed.

Just then, the light pillar at the top of the power plant exploded with a roar. Ye Shi’er descended from the sky, a crack splitting his bronze mask, revealing a dimple almost identical to Shen Yan’s.

The blood scythe in his hand absorbed a large number of remnant souls from the puppets, its aura surging violently. The pressure of a peak Spirit Transformation cultivator pressed down like a collapsing mountain.

“Brother,” he said softly. “You’re always like this. Knowing you’ll lose, yet still protecting them.”

Shen Yan ignored him, continuing to type frantically on the screen.

“Where’s Bai Guizhen?” he asked.

From the shadows in the corner, Bai Guizhen slowly emerged, his horsetail whisk broken, his expression dark, the bronze key in his hand trembling slightly.

“You think you’ve won?” he sneered. “Once the tracking talisman is activated, it guides the source code spiritual root to expose itself. It’s not a control device—it’s an awakening ritual.”

Shen Yan’s heart sank.

No wonder the devil blood signal within Yu Xiaotang was so abnormally active.

This wasn’t a trap.

It was a key.

And they were standing before the keyhole.

Ye Shi’er raised his scythe, densely packed fragments of code appearing on the blade—all logs of Shen Yan’s failed spells.

“One last time,” he said. “Hand over the source code spiritual root, and I’ll let her live.”

Shen Yan glanced down at his phone.

The terminal’s final line of notice flashed:

【Reverse parsing progress: ninety-eight percent… ninety-nine…】

Just a little more.

He suddenly looked up at Ye Shi’er and smiled.

“Little brother,” he said. “Do you remember when we were kids, fighting over a computer?”

Ye Shi’er froze.

“You always say my Code is terrible,” Shen Yan wiped the blood from his face, “but every time your Program crashes, I fix it for you.”

He forcefully pressed the Enter key.

【Parsing complete. Reverse injection Initiated.】

In that instant, the red Tracking Talisman within Yu Xiaotang’s body reversed its flow, the Data chain exploded backward, and a pink talisman light shot upward, actually forcing Ye Shi’er’s Scythe to retreat half a step!

Yu Xiaotang abruptly opened her eyes, purple patterns flickering in her pupils, the half-eaten strawberry candy in her hand fell to the ground, syrup mixed with blood slowly spreading.

“Brother… brother?” Her voice was hoarse, yet carrying a hint of laughter, “This time… it’s my turn to fix your Bug.”

Ye Shi’er roared, swinging his blade to strike.

Shen Yan shoved Luo Li aside, lunged toward the console, grabbed the remnants of the Programming Pen, and traced the final segment of Code into the air.

Bai Guizhen stood on the high platform, the Key in his hand violently trembling, as if sensing something about to awaken.

Shen Yan’s left arm began crystallizing, Code patterns spreading along his skin, climbing up his shoulder like ice cracks.

He gasped, staring at Ye Shi’er’s approaching figure, a smile curling at his lips.

“Do you know what the most vicious Virus is?”

He raised his phone, the Screen glaringly bright.

“It’s the things that look like candy.”

(End of Chapter)