Chapter Twenty: Soul Fulfillment and Enhanced Senses

After a night of cultivation, most of the vitality of the plants in the botanical garden had been siphoned away by the Devouring Heaven Demonic Art that Wang Fan wielded. The majority of the plants, robbed of their essence, had withered completely. Having seized the energy of nearly half the flora, Wang Fan condensed over a dozen soul stones. He consumed ten of them himself, and with that, his soul and spirit were strengthened to the point of perfection for his current stage. At this moment, Wang Fan’s soul was at least twice as powerful as before, and so, too, were his five senses.

Now, Wang Fan’s eyes seemed to possess the keen vision of a hawk, capable of discerning the tiniest of existences and observing details he once overlooked. For instance, he could now spot a minuscule insect on a leaf ten meters away—an insect he would never have noticed before unless he drew near. But now, without approaching, he could see it clearly from afar. This was an added effect of his soul’s newfound strength; as his soul grew stronger, so did his eyes.

As the saying goes, the eyes are the windows to the soul—through them, one can glimpse another’s spirit. In a certain sense, this is absolutely true; the acuity of one’s senses is closely tied to the strength of the soul. Now that Wang Fan’s soul had doubled in power, his five senses naturally followed suit. Beyond vision, even his hearing and smell had grown far more acute.

Take his sense of smell: while not as sharp as a dog’s, it too had increased severalfold. As for touch, the last of the five senses, it had also strengthened accordingly. Wang Fan now believed that if he were to play mahjong, he could distinguish every tile by touch alone with perfect accuracy.

His senses enhanced, his soul perfected—yet Wang Fan’s cultivation had reached its current limit. His soul was now complete, but his physical body had yet to reach perfection. At best, his flesh could be considered in its initial formative stage.

After all, Wang Fan was neither a divine being nor possessed an ancient sacred body—there was no such thing as an innately perfect constitution for him. He had consumed the Nine Apertures Golden Elixir, a miraculous pill for the body, but its effects still required his own efforts to unlock. If he relied solely on his heartbeat to activate the Golden Elixir, it would take an exceedingly long time for its medicinal power to fully merge with his body.

Seated cross-legged amidst the withered remains of the botanical garden, Wang Fan pondered. At last, he noticed a rosy glow rising in the east—the light of hope, the light of the sun, the radiant dawn of the east.

The instant the sunlight touched him, Wang Fan realized it was time to leave. If he lingered any longer, the staff would soon arrive for work, and if he were discovered, he would be in serious trouble. The devastation among the plants was not a minor matter; it was widespread. Should the blame fall upon him, the consequences would be dire.

So, as the sun rose, Wang Fan carefully packed away the Soul Shaking Mountain and several multicolored soul stones, then scaled the wall to make his way back, evading the cameras along the route. When he finally returned to his rented apartment, his expression darkened.

Thanks to his newly-enhanced vision, Wang Fan noticed several footprints near his door—prints that did not belong to him. They were the traces of strangers, and they overlapped his own footprints from earlier. This led Wang Fan to conclude that someone had entered his room while he was away, and there had been more than one intruder.

Someone broke into my room? For what purpose?

Wang Fan fell into deep thought, trying to piece things together. As he frowned and pondered, the door across the hall opened—the landlady, a young married woman, stepped out. Upon seeing Wang Fan leaning against his door, lost in contemplation, she hesitated, unsure whether to tell him what had occurred the previous day. After a moment’s deliberation, recalling that Wang Fan had previously driven away a vagrant and was, after all, her tenant, she mustered her courage, approached Wang Fan, and said earnestly, “Someone broke into your apartment yesterday.”

“I know,” Wang Fan replied.

“You know?”

“The only thing I don’t know is who did it,” Wang Fan nodded slightly. “Were you at home yesterday, landlady? If so, can you tell me who entered my apartment? Was it a thief, or a robber?”

Hearing Wang Fan’s questions, the landlady quickly shook her head. “It wasn’t a thief or a robber. It was the police. Armed police—dozens of them!”

“Young man, did you get yourself into trouble?” she asked, frowning slightly.

“Armed police, huh? I see,” Wang Fan muttered under his breath, then flashed her a carefree smile. “Don’t worry about it, landlady. I haven’t committed any crime.”

With a faint smile, Wang Fan stepped into his apartment and closed the door behind him.

Once inside, he resumed his contemplation. By now, he had deduced part of the reason—perhaps it was because he had injured dozens of armed police officers during the trial hall ordeal.

After a little more thought, utilizing his perfected spirit—empowered by the ten soul stones—Wang Fan considered another possibility: the transmission from the Imperial Trial Treasury. That teleportation had deposited him directly outside a café, and there seemed to be a surveillance camera at the entrance.

Had the camera captured his blood-soaked appearance?

If so, the authorities’ swift response was understandable. After all, a man suddenly appearing on camera, covered in blood, was bound to arouse suspicion.

Now that his spirit was complete, Wang Fan’s reasoning was no less keen than that of a seasoned detective. Having deduced the cause of the police visit, he shifted his focus to a new dilemma: should he go to the police station, confess, and explain himself to the armed police unit, or should he vanish into the city, cultivate in secrecy, and only reveal himself openly when he had grown strong enough?

After careful consideration, Wang Fan decided to remain hidden within the city and avoid drawing attention for the time being. His cultivation required a vast amount of vital energy; without it, he could not grow stronger. Going to the police station would likely mean arrest and detention, an outcome he could not accept. Therefore, he chose to keep a low profile, focus on his training, and only emerge once he had become truly formidable—strong enough to fear neither bullets nor blades.