"Go on," Bing Wushuang said, watching him with an air of unhurried composure.

"You got pills from Wei Zhao—that's how you climbed two ranks in a row. Isn't that so?" Xue Jianming sneered.

"He and I are neither kin nor friends; if anything, there's bad blood between us. Why would he give me pills?" Bing Wushuang countered.

"Hmph, need I even say it? To win you over, of course—otherwise why would you be so eager to help Leng Leng, and why would you and Wei Zhao coexist so peacefully? Bing Wushuang, you're cornered. Just admit it," Xue Jianming said smugly.

"Utter nonsense. Have you forgotten that you and I have both taken the Center's pills? Give you two golden core pills and tell you to betray the Center—would you dare?" Bing Wushuang said with a snort of contempt.

"Uh..." Xue Jianming froze for a moment, only then registering that point. His face, so triumphant a moment ago, went dim and lusterless. Just as Bing Wushuang said, unless that fatal hold was removed, who would dare betray the Center?

"Besides, if Wei Zhao really meant to recruit me, given the bad blood between us he could never be fully at ease. He'd have to tamper with me the way the Center does. You've probably forgotten again—the Center requires regular physicals," Bing Wushuang said with a cold huff.

This time Xue Jianming was completely at a loss for a rebuttal. He never in his wildest dreams would have guessed that Wei Zhao could not only remove the Center's means of controlling them, but even have Lin Dongfang plant a gu on them—something not even the Center's array of high-tech instruments could detect.

"Be that as it may, there are plenty of suspicious points about you, and it's a fact that you're entangled with Wei Zhao!" Xue Jianming said, resorting to sophistry.

"Suit yourself. By all means, take this matter to the higher-ups—and I'll just take the opportunity to tell them about how you kicked Wei Zhao into the river. We'll see who comes off worse," Bing Wushuang said blandly, utterly unruffled.

"You..." Xue Jianming choked again. His eyes darted about for a long while, unable to find a retort, and he could only mutter sheepishly, "What exactly do you want?"

"I don't want anything much. Only, treasure of heaven and earth is share and share alike. You're holding such a long stalk of Spirit-Sense Grass—surely you weren't thinking of keeping it all to yourself?" Bing Wushuang said, eyes glinting somewhat as he fixed them on the grass.

A treasure like Spirit-Sense Grass was coveted by all. To any golden-core cultivator worth his salt, it was a lethal temptation—and Bing Wushuang was naturally no exception.

Xue Jianming knew as well that this business today would not be settled so easily. If he wanted to shut Bing Wushuang's mouth, he would have to bleed for it. Fortunately this stalk of Spirit-Sense Grass was ample enough; even after parting with a length of it, he trusted there would still be enough to temper himself into the strongest golden-core cultivator.

"I'll give you half—and today nothing ever happened!" Xue Jianming said through gritted teeth. In truth, even without being caught by the short hairs, he could never have kept the Spirit-Sense Grass all to himself today. Now that Bing Wushuang had seen it, he was not a man so easily put off.

"Fine." Bing Wushuang agreed readily. In a place this perilous, he had no desire to recklessly clash head-on with Xue Jianming. After all, Xue Jianming had Traceless Snowstep and could flee at any moment—unless he laid down the Ice-Silk Cage as he had last time. But that would not only cost time and effort, it would inevitably turn into a fight to the death, and that was not the situation he wanted.

Bing Wushuang was not greedy. Half a stalk of Spirit-Sense Grass ought to be about enough. To get more than that, he would have to tear off all pretense and wrest it from Xue Jianming by force—too great a risk, not worth it.

Xue Jianming promptly cut the Spirit-Sense Grass in two. But he did not toss it over directly. Instead, wary, he said, "If you go back on your word, don't blame me for fighting you to the bitter end, both of us broken."

"When have I ever broken my word?" Bing Wushuang said, eyeing him sidelong.

"Fine." Xue Jianming promptly flung half the stalk over. Though Bing Wushuang was a cold, unfeeling sort, he was a man who kept his promises—in that respect far more reliable than Xue Jianming himself.

Of course, that said, Bing Wushuang was no upright gentleman to begin with; and even if he truly were, Xue Jianming's petty mind would never have trusted him completely. The reason he was so sensible now was purely that he did not want to lock horns with the man to the death here.

As for the business of setting Wei Zhao up to die—strictly speaking, it was a case of the dead giving no testimony. Not even the corpse could be found, and there were no other witnesses to corroborate it. On Bing Wushuang's word alone, the Center's higher-ups might not believe it entirely.

Moreover, Xue Jianming could perfectly well sling mud at Bing Wushuang the way he just had. Whether or not it was true, since neither of them was clean, all that remained was bickering back and forth—no real threat would come of it.

"Till we meet again." Xue Jianming gave a huff and shot away on Traceless Snowstep. Despite the hitch Bing Wushuang had thrown in, his mood was in fact excellent: he had gotten the Spirit-Sense Grass as he wished, and on top of that had done Wei Zhao, his number-one enemy, to death. Truly a double blessing—one that called for proper celebration.

But not just yet. In this Grand Ancient Trial, Wei Zhao was far from the only one Xue Jianming had schemed to eliminate. Those dazzling prodigies who might one day threaten him were all mortal foes he was determined to root out—Qi Fei of the Thousand Blades and Ling Tianyou, for instance.

Xue Jianming left, but Bing Wushuang did not depart at once. After carefully stowing the Spirit-Sense Grass away, he gazed at the gradually calming River of Divine Consciousness, lost in thought.

Not long after, a figure came stumbling out of the dense forest behind him—none other than Fei Yangnian, who had been left behind. Catching sight of Bing Wushuang, he was instantly overjoyed. "Martial Uncle Bing, you walk so fast—I truly can't keep up!"

"Then stop chasing," Bing Wushuang said blandly.

"Uh, how could I? Senior Wei Zhao instructed me to move together with you. How would I dare defy the elder's wishes?" Fei Yangnian said with a chuckle. He was terrified Bing Wushuang would leave him behind, and so invoked Wei Zhao's name—little knowing that Wei Zhao had just been kicked into the river along with Duanmu Yu.

Bing Wushuang made no comment, only gazing at the river's surface with a complicated expression. When Xue Jianming had kicked the two of them into the River of Divine Consciousness, he had just arrived on the scene. Had he gone all out, he actually might have had a chance to stop it—though at considerable risk.

He had hesitated for a moment then, thinking that with Wei Zhao's tricks he would not be caught so easily. Who would have thought the man really would tumble into the river along with Duanmu Yu, catching him completely off guard.

Of course, he felt no loyalty whatsoever toward Wei Zhao. His willingness to accept the recruitment back then had been purely a matter of knowing which way the wind blew. If Wei Zhao was dead, then dead he was; Bing Wushuang would not shed a single tear over it. It was only the gu planted in his own body that worried him somewhat. If Wei Zhao really was gone, and the gu poison acted up—what then would he do? (To be continued.)