I Can See Through Everything

I Can See Through Everything

“An assassination bounty?”

Lu Qing fell silent upon hearing this.

That reaction was not what Daoist Wubao expected.

He had assumed that Lu Qing would be startled by his suggestion, at least a little. Yet the man’s calm demeanor suggested otherwise. The thought only flickered briefly in Daoist Wubao’s mind before he nodded and said, “That’s right. An assassination bounty. Fellow Daoist Chen, you must have heard of the Netherworld Palace?”

“I have heard some things,” Lu Qing replied slowly. “It is said to be a most mysterious and powerful organization of assassins. Even sect masters, clan leaders, and Demon Lords fall within their reach. I’ve also heard that certain sects and noble families have placed bounties on my head within the Netherworld Palace.”

He spoke evenly, recounting the rumors he had gathered.

“Correct,” Daoist Wubao confirmed. “The Qiankun Sect, the Gongshu Clan, and the other sects and clans whose Nascent Soul cultivators you slew—all of them have posted high bounties for your death within the Netherworld Palace.”

As he said this, Daoist Wubao cast Lu Qing another strange look. So many powerful factions had offered immense rewards for his head, yet with all the Netherworld Palace’s fearsome intelligence, they had failed to trace him in over a decade. That meant Lu Qing’s ability to hide himself was as unfathomable as his strength. Truly astonishing.

“Daoist, are you suggesting I claim one of these bounties myself?” Lu Qing asked with a faint smile.

“Of course not.” Daoist Wubao shook his head. “My point is—you could become an assassin of the Netherworld Palace. Accept their contracts, complete their missions, and earn spirit stones.”

“Become an assassin of the Netherworld Palace?” Lu Qing was taken aback. “Is that even possible for outsiders?”

“It is,” Daoist Wubao said. “Few know this, but although the Netherworld Palace cultivates its own elite killers, it also recruits outer members. Their conditions are simple—they do not care for your identity or background. Whether you are a sect disciple, a noble scion, a rogue cultivator, righteous or demonic, human, demon, or beastkin—they do not discriminate. The only requirement is to survive their trial. If you pass, you become one of their outer members.

Once inside, you can take on assassination missions. For every contract you complete, the Palace grants you merit points according to the mission’s difficulty. These points determine your rank and privileges within the Palace. Accumulate enough, and you can rise in status and even exchange them for techniques and treasures to strengthen yourself.”

As Daoist Wubao spoke, Lu Qing realized just how unusual the Palace’s system was. Aside from their core assassins, they drew countless experts into their net, regardless of origin.

But…

Lu Qing narrowed his gaze at Daoist Wubao. “Daoist, you seem rather familiar with their rules. Could it be…”

“Yes,” Daoist Wubao admitted frankly. “I once took part in their trial myself. My strength was lacking, and I failed to pass. Had it not been for my skills in divination to foresee danger, I would have died there.”

“So the trial is quite dangerous then?”

“It is extremely dangerous.” Daoist Wubao’s tone grew grave. “The death rate is astonishingly high. There have even been instances where every single participant perished, leaving no survivor.”

“All of them dead?” Lu Qing’s eyes flickered with surprise.

“Exactly. Fellow Daoist Chen, you must think carefully before deciding. If you seek spirit stones quickly, this is indeed a path—but it is one filled with peril. Once you take a mission, life and death are yours alone. Should you fall, the Palace will not avenge you or protect you. And remember this: assassins do not trust each other. Worse still, since your head is already a bounty, if your true identity is exposed, you will draw countless killers. If you enter the Palace, you must act alone. Never trust another assassin.”

Lu Qing remained silent, weighing the warning. After a pause, he asked, “If I were to become one of their assassins, would there be restrictions? Would they force me to take missions I do not want?”

“No,” Daoist Wubao replied. “The Palace cares nothing for its outer members’ lives. But neither does it bind them. You could even declare to the world that you are a Netherworld Palace assassin, or reveal one of their outposts. They would not punish you. For they do not fear retaliation. Any force that has dared challenge them has long since been erased from history.”

Hearing this, Lu Qing once again grasped the terrifying scope of the Netherworld Palace. A shadowy organization spanning countless immortal domains, unchallenged even by the mightiest sects or demon clans. No wonder none dared oppose them, even when they openly placed bounties on sect masters, clan leaders, or Demon Lords.

Lu Qing smiled. “So there is such a fascinating thing. Then I must see this trial for myself. Daoist, how does one take part?”

…

Half an hour later, Lu Qing dismissed the formation atop the mountain peak. His figure turned into a streak of light, soaring into the distant skies.

Daoist Wubao remained on the summit, a jade vial in hand, watching Lu Qing vanish into the horizon.

“Fellow Daoist Chen, I hope you succeed in the trial. May you gather the spirit stones you seek,” he murmured.

The jade vial held three drops of Golden Core–level beast blood—Lu Qing’s gift to him before leaving. Over a decade ago, Daoist Wubao had collected many Foundation Establishment beast bloodlines within a secret realm, refining them all to temper his body. It had allowed him to reach the limits of flesh cultivation and master his sect’s formidable secret technique.

Now, with Golden Core–level beast blood, his body would evolve once more. His cultivation of that secret technique would finally reach perfection.

“As long as I perfect that technique, I will be qualified to vie for the position of Young Sect Master. Junior Sister, wait for me. One day, I will avenge you with my own hands.”

Clutching the vial, Daoist Wubao’s eyes gleamed with resolve.

…

“Ah Qing, are you truly going to enter the Netherworld Palace’s trial?”

High in the skies, as Lu Qing sped through the clouds, Xiaoli asked him through soul transmission.

“Yes. Daoist Wubao was right. If we wish to amass spirit stones quickly, we must take a dangerous path. The Netherworld Palace may well be the best option,” Lu Qing replied.

But the real reason was the lack of restrictions. With another identity, he would gain far more freedom of movement. Their intelligence network also tempted him greatly. Since that was the case, why not take the trial?

He flew on with Xiaoli, eventually reaching another continent. There, following Daoist Wubao’s directions, he arrived at a shabby building hidden within a bustling city.

Yet before entering, Lu Qing assumed the guise of “Lu An.” He donned a black cloak and a ghost-face mask, and placed Xiaoli inside the Li Huo Cauldron. Only then did he step inside.

At once, he sensed something odd. A faint ripple of spatial fluctuation flickered and vanished. Beneath his mask, Lu Qing’s expression sharpened. Though subtle, to one attuned to the Dao of Space, it was obvious. This building was no mere house, but lay within an independent space.

Even a Nascent Soul expert might fail to detect it. That alone revealed the Palace’s depth. If one of their minor outposts could weave such a formation, how terrifying must their true power be?

Inside, the shop appeared plain. A few shelves lined with low-grade artifacts and materials. An old man lay snoring on a chair, hair disheveled.

Lu Qing activated his spiritual powers, and words flickered into his vision.

“A Two-Tribulation Nascent Soul cultivator?” His eyes narrowed. He had come to the right place.

The old man did not stir, even after Lu Qing stood there for some time. At last, Lu Qing knocked lightly on the table and said respectfully, “Senior.”

The old man opened his cloudy eyes. He glanced at Lu Qing’s masked figure without surprise, as if long accustomed to such visitors.

“What do you want? If it’s artifacts, pick one yourself. Don’t disturb my nap.”

“Senior, I did not come to buy artifacts. I wish to join the Netherworld Palace’s trial for outer members.”

The old man’s expression did not change. Indeed, the moment he saw Lu Qing’s disguise, he had guessed his purpose.

“You? With your meager strength? Are you not afraid of death?”

“Of course I am.” Lu Qing smiled. “But I still trust in my ability.”

“Confidence? Every fool who comes here has confidence. Each thinks himself special. Boy, heed my advice: think carefully. Do not throw your life away.”

“I thank Senior for the warning. But I still wish to try.”

The old man studied him for a long moment, then snorted. “Very well. Since you are so eager to die, come with me.”

He pushed open a door and stepped inside. Lu Qing followed into a vast stone chamber covered in complex runes, a great formation inscribed across the walls.

The old man waved his hand, and a stone pillar rose at the center, shrouded by layers of formation light.

“To earn the right to enter the trial, you must first claim the token within. Break this pillar, take the jade token, and you will qualify. Fail, and get out.”

Lu Qing gazed at the pillar, sensing the formation’s power. He was not surprised—Daoist Wubao had told him beforehand that the Trial Jade Token was required. This was the Palace’s minimum standard.

He raised his eyes. A single thread of sword light flickered from his will. With a crisp crack, the layers of light and stone parted like tofu, revealing the token within.

“Senior, does this count as passing?” he asked respectfully.

A flash of hidden sharpness flickered in the old man’s eyes at the sight of that sword light, but he quickly masked it and snorted. “Hmph. At least you have some skill.”

He plucked the jade token from the air and tossed it to Lu Qing. “But remember, boy—this little trick of yours won’t get you far. In the trial, there are plenty stronger than you.”

“I understand. Thank you for the reminder,” Lu Qing replied with equal respect.

“Bah. Your death has nothing to do with me. Half a month from now, a trial will begin. The location is inscribed on the token. Go there.

And remember this—those who oversee the trial recognize only the token, not the man. If you die and someone else claims it, they may enter in your place. Not that it will matter. It only means another body to be buried.”

The old man’s voice was cold and indifferent.