Chapter 880: Why Not Steal It and Run?

Ye Mo peered through the mist at the clashing sword rays. The battle appeared stalemated. After observing for a time, he found he couldn't track the combatants' movements. He shifted his focus to the two halves of the book.

Something capable of drawing two Hollow Spirit cultivators into battle couldn't be ordinary. However, he could only see the boxes, not their contents. To examine them clearly required spirit sense, necessitating his departure from the golden page world. For now, he could only observe the outside world through the formation.

Reasoning that the cultivators were preoccupied, Ye Mo donned Nine Transformations and left the golden page world. They were unlikely to notice him, provided his spirit sense didn't encroach on their battle.

He waited, observing carefully, then, cloaking his chi, cautiously extended his spirit sense towards the books. He knew that even Nine Transformations wouldn't fool a Hollow Spirit cultivator completely; his only hope rested in the Three Birth Chant's stealth capabilities.

The instant his spirit sense touched the jade boxes, he recoiled, instantly realizing his folly. He'd been detected. Retracting his spirit sense, he concealed himself at the edge of the natural spirit sense barrier. Almost immediately, two powerful spirit senses swept across the barrier.

So powerful! Ye Mo thought.

"Tong, there's a third party. You're remarkably weak!" Sima sneered.

Tong Wusheng retorted coldly, "Sima, you didn't detect him either. A mere Foundation Establishment cultivator scheming against me? He's courting death."

Both knew of Ye Mo's presence, but remained unconcerned.

Sima Zhu remarked, "A Foundation Establishment cultivator hiding within a formation impervious to our spirit sense? It must be a natural formation, typically created using rare treasures."

"Tong, I'll leave the formation and that Foundation Establishment ant to you, in exchange for the book. I'll forgo whatever's within the formation, and carve you a jade slip."

The dark-faced cultivator's smile hinted at interest; his attack noticeably slowed.

Ye Mo, aware of his discovery, dared not return to the golden page world. Their realizing his disappearance would expose his pocket world artifact—an object of immense value, even to Truth Realization cultivators. Discovery meant certain death.

His single scan of the book revealed its nature: Things, the highly sought-after supplementary text. He’d perused the spirit herb section, noting detailed images, explanations, cultivation methods, and potential pill applications. Even he, from a herbal sect, recognized at least 40% of the herbs as unfamiliar.

He envisioned a meteoric rise in his pill concoction skills. More exciting still were the pill recipes listed under each herb. The Three Birth Chant was powerful, but creating his own recipes was arduous, requiring countless trials, wasted herbs, and time.

This was a stroke of unbelievable luck. Spirit herbs were only a fraction of its value. A mad thought seized him: why not steal it and run?

A knife at his back, another in front—why wait for death? He might as well fight for survival.

This thought ignited an irresistible urge. He forced himself to calm down, observing the cultivators through the surveillance formation. The black mist thinned; Sima Zhu's net and Tong Wusheng's sword formation lost their ferocity, suggesting an impending cease-fire.

If they stop, I'm dead! Panic seized him. Suddenly, he saw Tong Wusheng deploying formation flags, weaving hand signs—preparing to activate a formation to claim the book.

Disappointment washed over him, but this feeling was fleeting. Sima Zhu, too, deployed formation flags. The attack formation slowed, the transmission formation redirecting not to Tong Wusheng, but to Sima Zhu.

Ye Mo admired Sima Zhu's cunning. He'd likely been waiting to seize the opportunity after Tong Wusheng left. Knowing Tong Wusheng's plan, Ye Mo decided to leverage it, adding his own formations atop Tong Wusheng's, waiting for the opportune moment to redirect the transmission to himself. He realized this seemingly amiable old man was far more ruthless than Tong Wusheng.

Tong Wusheng, certain of preventing Sima Zhu from seizing the box, was bewildered by Sima Zhu's success.

"Sima Zhu, you old fox! Always resorting to underhanded tactics!" Tong Wusheng roared, unleashing a furious attack. More flying swords erupted from his cloak.

Sima Zhu sneered, "You're no different." The mist thickened, obscuring the sky. Seeing the box approaching Sima Zhu, Tong Wusheng screamed, "Sima Zhu, if you dare take it, I'll reduce my half to dust!"

Ye Mo prepared his formation. The time for action had arrived.