Chapter 33: Poison Powder Conspiracy: The Slow Kill in the Folding Fan

Shen Yan stared at the scorched fallen leaf, his fingers sliding feverishly across the Terminal.

Three days. This thing gnawed at his nerves like a parasite, each dizzy spell arriving as punctually as a clock-in—right after Xie Wujiu left, his vision would blur.

“Not a coincidence.” He pulled up the Data and compared it frame by frame. “It’s a poisoning software Update Package.”

His phone screen flickered with green light as the Log scrolled:

【Neural Activity Value: 97.4%→96.9%→96.8%】

【Anomaly Fluctuation Time Points: 08:15, 13:22, 19:03】

All occurred after Xie Wujiu showed up.

Shen Yan sneered and activated the air particle backtracking Script. The Program ran like a minesweeper, combing through the airflow trajectories of the past seventy-two hours. As soon as the 3D model formed, a faint pink stream of dust particles drifted in from the direction of the old locust tree, slipped through the window crack into the room, and finally settled into his skin in sync with his breathing rhythm.

The endpoint marker lit up red: Stagnation Powder · Sustained-Release Type.

“Impressive, using a folding fan as a spray?” He zoomed in on the structural diagram of the fan’s edge and discovered a hidden compartment at the joint of the ribs. A simple flick of the fan would release it, with zero Spiritual Power Fluctuation—pure physical diffusion. “No wonder the System didn’t alert me. You took the express lane.”

He casually imported the residual Rune imprint from the fallen leaf into the database. The comparison result popped up: same origin as the Tracking Talisman from the Medicine Pouch, with an Encoding method carrying Shadow Erosion level-three Encryption, but there was a small Bug—an extra stroke in the final Verification Code.

“Amateur.” Shen Yan scoffed. “Didn’t even clear the Cache after modifying the Code.”

Now that he knew how it got here, it was time to send something back in return.

He pulled out a spare phone, plugged in his homemade Spiritual Energy harmonic wave emitter, and wrote a low-frequency vibration Pulse disguised as the chirping of nocturnal insects, planning to drill a hole into Xie Wujiu’s room to eavesdrop.

“A soundproof Barrier? I’ll make sure you can’t sleep.”

In the dead of night, Shen Yan crouched behind the artificial rockery outside Xie Wujiu’s residence, clutching a miniature Talisman Array receiver, looking like a private detective staking out a prostitution bust.

The moment the Signal connected, a sinister chuckle came through the earpiece.

“Celestial Clan Outcast… Let’s see how you die in tomorrow’s assessment!”

Shen Yan’s eyelids twitched.

The recording continued:

“The Stagnation Powder has already seeped into the Earth Vein. As soon as he mobilizes Spiritual Power on the field, the toxin will flow backward into his heart. When he collapses, no one will suspect it was anything but an accident.”

“Perfect.”

Shen Yan silently pressed the save button and was about to retreat when another voice suddenly rang out.

“Senior Brother Xie, aren’t you afraid of retribution for such methods?”

He froze.

It was Ye Zhao.

Her voice was cold enough to strike sparks, but her breathing was slightly rushed, as if she had just hurried over.

Xie Wujiu’s tone changed, carrying a perfunctory, insincere smile. “Junior Sister Ye, are you here to check up on me?”

“I’m not here to check on you,” Ye Zhao said. “I’m here to ask you: is the Sword Sect’s dignity so worthless?”

“Dignity?” Xie Wujiu snorted lightly. “An outsider barges into our mountain gate, and you still defend him? Don’t forget whose side you’re on.”

“I am on the Sword Sect’s side,” she said. “Not a pawn on your chessboard.”

A brief silence.

Then came the sound of a fan tapping the table. “You may leave.”

“You are not fit to oversee the Discipline Hall.”

Footsteps sounded, fading from near to far.

Shen Yan didn’t move, his ear still pressed against the earpiece. Only after confirming everyone had dispersed did he export the recording and toss it into the voiceprint analysis Program.

The results appeared instantly:

【Emotional Fluctuation: Genuine anger, no Puppet Art interference】

【Breathing Rhythm: Elevated heart rate, autonomous action state】

“Did she really go to confront him?” Shen Yan narrowed his eyes. “Or… has she been keeping an eye on this guy all along?”

He flipped through the patrol records again and found that Ye Zhao wasn’t even on tonight’s duty roster. She had come here on her own in the dark.

“Internal conflict?” He stroked his chin. “Does that mean I’m reaping the benefits?”

But right now, the most urgent matter was to remove this chronic DEBUFF from his body.

He opened the metabolic enhancement protocol and set it to automatic Run mode. The Interface popped up a Notice:

【Basic Loop rate increased by 15%, energy consumption elevated. Recommend supplementing Spiritual Power Source】

“Fine.” Shen Yan pulled out the last bottle of spiritual liquid from his backpack and gulped it down, his throat burning. “Being a Programmer is exhausting, constantly fixing the lousy Code others buried.”

The toxin was still slowly eroding him, but he had already pinpointed the source. The evidence chain was now complete: body Logs, environmental playback, recorded proof, Rune traceability.

All that was missing was the right timing.

Tomorrow’s Sword Flight assessment—did Xie Wujiu want him to drop dead on the spot?

The corner of Shen Yan’s mouth lifted. “Then you’ll have to ask my Code first.”

He packed and encrypted all the Data, stuffing it into the deepest layer of his phone’s System—the kind even a factory reset couldn’t delete.

Then he reopened the stagnant powder diffusion model and began reverse engineering.

The dust had entered his room with the wind, but where did the wind come from?

He pulled up the Sword Sect’s terrain map, overlaying it with an airflow simulation Program, and discovered a strange phenomenon—every evening, the Earth Vein’s Spiritual Flow in this area would shift slightly, as if being pulled by something.

And the center of that shift was precisely Xie Wujiu’s courtyard.

“Not just randomly scattered.” Shen Yan’s gaze sharpened. “It’s guided by a Formation.”

He zoomed in on the architectural structure and finally discovered a hidden circle of Talisman Lines beneath the roof tiles, forming a miniature Spirit Gathering Formation capable of directing specific toxins.

“High-tech poisoning, huh.”

Shen Yan leaned back in his chair, rubbing his Temple. His head still felt heavy, but his thoughts grew clearer.

Xie Wujiu thought he was weakened by the poison, but in reality, he had already traced his way back to the opponent’s lair.

In this game, on the surface, it looked like prey struggling in its death throes, but in truth, it was the hunter laying the net.

He opened a new document, the title reading:

Countermeasure Plan V1.0: Send the Poison Dust Back the Way It Came

Just as he typed the first line of Code, a flash of silver light suddenly streaked past outside the window.

Shen Yan looked up.

Ye Zhao stood on the opposite rooftop, the Frost Soul Sword in her hand, her gaze fixed directly on him.

They stared at each other across the distance for a few seconds. She didn’t speak, only gave a slight nod before turning and disappearing into the night.

Shen Yan was taken aback for a moment, then looked down at his Terminal.

In the lower right corner of the Screen, a line of small text popped up:

【External Spiritual Power Fluctuation Detected. Match: Frost Soul Sword · Synced Frequency】

“She covered for me?”

He smiled.

No wonder the surveillance went so smoothly earlier, without a single alarm going off.

Someone had been buying him time.

Shen Yan closed the Program and tucked his phone into his chest pocket.

Tomorrow’s assessment—Xie Wujiu was waiting to see him collapse.

But he didn’t know that the one truly about to fall was the mastermind who thought he had everything under control.

Shen Yan closed his eyes and began Debugging the final segment of the reverse-injection Script.

If toxins could travel along the Earth Vein, then so could Code.

He was going to plant a time bomb in Xie Wujiu’s Formation.

Fingers tapped rapidly on the screen, lines of green characters scrolling past.

Outside, the moonlight lay still, only the faint glow from the terminal illuminating half his face.

With the final line of code entered, the program entered standby mode.

Shen Yan opened his eyes and said softly:

“Prepare for decompilation. Target—your fan.”

He stood up and walked to the window.

In the distance, the clock tower had just struck the third watch. A breeze blew from Xie Wujiu’s courtyard, carrying a faint, elusive scent of blood.

Shen Yan took a deep breath and placed a silver talisman bean in his mouth—a poison removal reserve Pei Yue had given him, not yet activated.

He didn’t want to break the game now.

He had to wait, until everyone’s eyes were on the arena.

Until the moment Xie Wujiu thought victory was assured.

Slowly exhaling a breath of turbid air, he murmured:

“You release poison, I release code.”

“We’ll meet on the stage.”

His finger lightly swiped the side of his phone, initiating the reverse beacon.

The next second, the terminal vibrated.

【Warning: High-Level Spiritual Power disturbance detected. Source—Scripture Pavilion direction】

Shen Yan frowned, about to check, when the door was suddenly flung open.

A figure in pale yellow rushed in, holding a half-burnt Talisman Paper, face pale.

“Shen Yan! Something’s happened!”

(End of Chapter)