Chapter Twenty-One: The Game

"Just look at that temper of yours," Feng Shang's flippant laughter carried a note of mockery.

Boom!

The snow-white paw struck down once more, swift as a streak of lightning.

The Ninefold Celestial Tail whistled and danced, its fur bristling, each strand aglow with dazzling radiance. Like nine swords clashing in a tempest, it whipped up a violent storm.

Above, a blazing sun radiated boundless light, woven from the fabric of laws into a silver brilliance that bathed the earth, scorching all beneath it. The vast land was reduced to dust.

This supreme Astral Spirit was utterly enraged, her violet eyes ablaze with light. She probed, searching for Feng Shang, her divine sense pushed to its limit, infiltrating every inch of the Black Prison World.

Through countless ages, never had she been so incensed, never had she endured such shameless taunts and ridicule.

To her pride, words of insult were more intolerable than wounds—they provoked a hatred that could not be contained!

"Tsk, tsk, how terrifying. Such a foul temper. Let me save you the trouble—no matter how hard you try, you won't find me, even if I stand right before you. So what if you're an Astral Spirit? Catch me if you can!" Feng Shang continued to provoke her, his laughter carefree.

A grinding sound erupted.

The Nine-tailed Astral Spirit clenched her silver teeth so tightly they creaked, driven nearly mad. Her formidable divine will manifested as a blazing sun, flooding the world with radiance, turning the Black Prison World as bright as day.

Yet, in the end, she was disappointed.

Her vast spiritual sense had permeated every grain of sand and mote of dust in this world.

Even so, she found no trace of Feng Shang, only the lingering aura he had left during the plundering of the Treasure Hall.

Where on earth was the wretch hiding?

"Aren't you furious? After all that effort, you still can’t find me."

Feng Shang poured oil on the fire, even humming a tune, leisurely savoring the sight of the peerless Nine-tailed Astral Spirit at her wit's end.

"If you have the guts, then—"

The Astral Spirit almost blurted out her challenge but remembered the boy’s earlier venomous tongue, felt a chill at heart, and forced the words back down.

Suddenly, her anger subsided. Her violet eyes spun with a glint of cunning that was hard to detect.

A miniature palace, radiant with golden light, floated before her. Auspicious clouds gushed from its roof, and its doors stood wide open, releasing the alluring scent of countless treasures.

Feng Shang sat bolt upright.

When he failed in his earlier attempt, that miniature treasure palace vanished—presumably taken by the Astral Spirit. Now, unexpectedly, she brought it forth again?

"Do you want it?"

Her voice was soft and sweet, crisp and irresistible. Any ordinary mortal who heard it would instantly succumb, becoming her spirit slave. Even a cultivator with insufficient willpower would have their mind ensnared, intoxicated by that ethereal, bewitching tone.

"Damn that voice," Feng Shang cursed, covering his ears. Only by conjuring a current of Unmanifested Qi to block the sound did his heartstrings cease their trembling. This Astral Spirit’s allure was too potent—both sight and sound threatened to ensnare him.

Silence.

The boy’s harsh words did not continue.

A smile curled the corner of the Nine-tailed Astral Spirit’s lips; she knew she had swayed him.

"Old hag, what are you up to?" Feng Shang feigned impatience, though inwardly he burned with excitement. The aura of treasures released from the miniature palace was extraordinary—at least twenty items drew his interest, far beyond his expectations!

With the palace doors open, even he could now clearly sense the presence of the World Annihilation Tally.

A darkness unfathomable, tinged with a ripple of fate, exuded from within—utterly mysterious.

The Astral Spirit’s eyes flickered, but instead of anger, that soft, beguiling voice laughed sweetly: "Shall we play a game? I’ll lay out my treasures, and you try to seize them. If you succeed, they’re yours. If you fail… you come out."

"Do you take me for a fool? Step out and let you kill me?"

Feng Shang retorted, quickly weighing the pros and cons. The Astral Spirit’s intention was obvious: to vent her anger, humiliate, and then destroy him—if only he would willingly dispel his Unmanifested Qi and reveal himself, or if she could pierce it and seal him away.

So naïve!

Feng Shang snorted coldly.

The Astral Spirit’s furry snow-white tails swayed gracefully in the air, her bearing both elegant and enchanting. She laughed softly, "Great fortune lies amidst peril. If you’re unwilling to pay even the slightest price or take the tiniest risk, how can you expect windfalls to fall from the sky?"

"Woman, I know exactly what you’re plotting," Feng Shang replied coldly, then changed his tone. "But it’s not out of the question. Let’s set three conditions. Fulfill them, and I’ll play your game."

Woman again…

The Astral Spirit suppressed her annoyance and the killing intent that surged within, maintaining her smile outwardly. "What are these conditions? If they’re outrageous, I won’t agree."

"First, you move a hundred thousand miles away."

The Astral Spirit smiled—one tail alone spanned a hundred thousand miles. Such a distance was trivial to her.

"Second, lift the space-time seal."

She narrowed her eyes. At present, the entire Black Prison World was under her control—any unusual aura would be detected instantly. If she withdrew it, her ability to sense him would be diminished. Still, she considered and agreed; otherwise, she’d never allay the boy’s suspicions.

"Third, do you have a Primordial Seed among your treasures?"

This was not a condition, but a question.

The Astral Spirit frowned slightly, puzzled, but nodded. She recalled how the first Flower Mistress once asked her for a hundred Primordial Seeds to cultivate a legion of spirits in the Sea of Flowers. The remainder were vital treasures—her nourishment for growth, never lightly parted with.

"Very well, take out a Primordial Seed and a World Annihilation Tally. I’ll try to seize them," Feng Shang decided. What he coveted most was the Immortal Blossom and the World Tally—if he could snatch both at once, so much the better.

The Astral Spirit was taken aback. A Primordial Seed and a Tally—he truly was audacious. Even if presented before him, could he even swallow them?

A cold light flashed in her eyes; she would retreat for now and, once he exposed himself, reclaim all with interest!

"Agreed. If you fail, I expect you to keep your word and step out."

Her voice turned icy. In an instant, the power binding space and time receded like the tide. Simultaneously, the miniature treasure palace glowed, releasing a brilliant white chess piece and a Tally engraved with thirteen lines.

Both items flew a hundred thousand miles from the Astral Spirit.

"So that’s the Primordial Seed? Dazzling indeed. But wait—why does this Tally have only thirteen marks? It’s worthless, you old crone, are you mocking me?!"

Feng Shang protested loudly.

Hearing this, the Astral Spirit fumed. "When did I ever mock you? I did precisely as you asked—produced a Primordial Seed and a Tally. Are you going to snatch them or not?"

She was ready to explode—any more quibbling and she might not be able to hold herself back. This wretched brat was insufferable!

"Hmm, I seem to have left out a demand earlier. Your palace should hold a Tally with more than sixteen marks, shouldn’t it?" Feng Shang mused, his voice probing.

The Astral Spirit’s face darkened abruptly.