Chapter 143: Unveiling Blood Grin's Spatial Ring
Night fell over the world, painting the sky in deep black broken by countless tiny stars. Fei Wu Quarter lay silent—eerily so—interrupted only by the chirping of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves in the cold night breeze.
Within Su Tianhao's courtyard, Xie Ling sat cross-legged beneath the ancient oak in quiet cultivation, eyes closed, breathing soft and steady. Inside the modest building before her, a different scene was unfolding.
Su Tianhao sat cross-legged on his bed, expression serene as a meditating monk. But within him, an intense session of comprehension was in progress.
After a long stretch of silent focus, his golden eyes snapped open—glowing faintly like twin lanterns in the darkened room. He had poured his full concentration into comprehending the Boundless Origin Art. But even with his strange familiarity with the technique, he had barely touched its concept—far from reaching even initial mastery.
Only one word surfaced in his mind to describe it.
'Profound.'
He massaged his temples, feeling a dull throb behind his eyes.
"The introduction didn't exaggerate at all," he muttered. "It really is difficult."
'But that's exactly what makes it intriguing,' he thought, reaching into his storage pouch.
With a thought, a silver ring appeared in his palm—Blood Grin's spatial ring. Or rather, what had belonged to Blood Grin.
"Time to put all that learning to work," Su Tianhao said, studying the ring's gleaming surface.
"The spatial rune is the only thing damaged," he confirmed with a slow nod. "Even with my current mastery of the Boundless Origin Art, repairing it shouldn't be a problem."
He paused, running through his options. "Though I'm far from mastering the Voidthread Inscription... the Spatial Restoration Sigil should suffice."
The Voidthread Inscription was a powerful and elusive art—capable of weaving through the very fabric of space, stitching fractured dimensions together like torn cloth. Not merely repair—recreation. A rebirth of form and structure. It demanded immense spiritual energy and a deep comprehension of spatial laws.
Far beyond what the current Su Tianhao could reach.
But the Spatial Restoration Sigil, while more modest, was more than capable of mending spatial distortions in spatial artifacts. It would be enough.
---
Su Tianhao sat cross-legged at the center of his room, the ring resting on a small table before him. Beside it, a set of tools and materials lay neatly arranged—the items acquired through Lu Qingran's assistance.
He began by pouring a measure of Sealing Liquid into a small dish and mixing in several complementary substances to maximize its effect. The pale-blue liquid shimmered faintly, releasing a cool, clean scent. He applied a thin layer across the damaged section of the ring with his fingertip. The liquid seeped into the fractured rune, temporarily stabilizing its structure—enough to begin inscription work.
Next, he unrolled a length of Spirit Thread—each strand barely visible to the naked eye yet dense with spiritual conductivity. He affixed a strand to the tip of the Inscription Brush, a jade-colored instrument with a polished surface, then bound them together with a careful pinch of Spiritual Essence Dust—a fine, glittering powder that amplified the channeling of spiritual energy during inscription.
With everything prepared, he closed his eyes, gathered his spiritual energy, and murmured:
"Spatial Restoration Sigil... let's see how much of you I truly understand."
He raised the brush.
Whoosh!
The thread lit with faint golden light as spiritual energy coursed through it. His movements were slow and deliberate—each stroke carving light into the air just above the ring, where the energy imprint would settle into place.
He began weaving the sigil.
Lines twisted into loops. Loops merged into ancient rune arcs, forming the prototype structure of the Spatial Restoration Sigil. As he worked, the Spirit Thread burned faintly, releasing wisps of ethereal light that clung to the ring's surface like silk.
Midway through, the brush trembled slightly.
Su Tianhao's brow furrowed.
The Sealing Liquid was beginning to evaporate under the spiritual strain. Without breaking his rhythm, he released a second wave of Spiritual Essence Dust into the air, guiding the flow back into balance.
Crackle...
A burst of unstable spatial energy leaked from the damaged rune. Su Tianhao didn't flinch. He reached for a Stabilizing Rune Sheet and activated it, placing it behind the ring as an anchor. The trembling ceased.
'Hold together... just a little more.'
He traced the final arc—a delicate spiral embedded with spiritual resonance. As the last stroke connected, the Spatial Restoration Sigil pulsed—then silently sank into the ring.
Buzz...
A soft hum filled the room. The ring glowed with quiet ethereal light, its fractured rune now whole—restored, and alive.
Su Tianhao leaned back, exhaling slowly. Sweat glistened at his temples.
"It's done," he murmured, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his lips.
He hadn't just repaired the ring. He had completed his first real act as an inscription master.
"Time to see what's inside."
Whoosh!
His senses sank into the ring's spatial dimension—a contained void roughly ten cubic meters in size. Not large by spatial ring standards, but serviceable for an assassin traveling light.
'Low-grade spatial ring,' he noted. Just like pills and other treasures, spatial rings came in grades—the higher the grade, the larger the storage space and the more convenient the access.
The first thing that caught his attention was a neat pile of spirit stones stacked in one corner—small, crystalline structures radiating faint spiritual energy.
Su Tianhao's eyes widened slightly.
"One hundred spirit stones."
Equivalent to ten thousand gold coins. A fortune most ordinary people would never see in their lifetimes. But he wasn't surprised. Blood Grin had been a hired assassin. If he couldn't amass at least this much, Su Tianhao would have been disappointed.
Beside the spirit stones sat several leather pouches, their contents clinking softly. His spiritual perception swept over them.
'Twenty-five thousand gold coins.'
A faint smile settled on his lips.
Combined with the spirit stones, Blood Grin's total wealth exceeded thirty-five thousand gold coins. Compared to the five thousand he had spent acquiring the inscription materials, it was a significant return.
And the ring held more than just currency.
Near the center of the spatial dimension rested a worn leather-bound manual. His spiritual perception brushed over it—and recognition flared immediately.
'Shadow Clone Steps.'
This was the very movement technique Blood Grin had used during their final clash—the elusive footwork that generated afterimages, making it nearly impossible to track his real position.
Surprisingly, it was a Peak-grade Spirit Rank technique, specializing in evasion and misdirection.
'So this is how you moved like a phantom,' Su Tianhao thought, his faint smile returning briefly.
"Looks like the Patriarch was right about the Blood Shadow Assassins," he murmured, brows drawing together with instinctive wariness.
"For them to entrust such a technique even to a low-ranking member..."
Only one explanation came to mind.
The Blood Oath.
According to Su Huiqing, every member of the Blood Shadow Assassins was bound by a Blood Oath ensuring absolute loyalty. Since the organization could be certain of each member's absolute loyalty, there was no risk in equipping even their lowest operatives with high-level techniques—ensuring superiority over their targets.
"What a calculated move from such a sinister group," Su Tianhao said quietly, his expression darkening.
Then came another memory—Su Huiqing's warning: killing one of their members was no different from declaring war on the entire organization.
Su Tianhao exhaled slowly and set the thought aside entirely. He had no interest in comprehending the technique. Impressive as it was, it couldn't compare to the movement arts available within his inherited memories. And selling it was out of the question—that would only draw unwanted attention.
He left it where it was and continued scanning.
Scattered throughout the ring's interior was an array of weapons.
A pair of wickedly curved daggers with serrated edges, their blades coated in a faint residue—likely poison. Several dozen throwing darts, each no longer than a finger, organized in leather sheaths. A garrote wire wound tightly around a small spool. Smoke pellets. Caltrops. A collapsible crossbow designed for close-quarters ambush.
Every tool of the assassination trade.
Su Tianhao's expression remained indifferent as he catalogued them. None of it interested him. He was a swordsman—not a shadow-skulking killer. These relics of Blood Grin's profession held no value to him beyond what they might fetch if sold.
'I'll keep the daggers as backup weapons. The rest can be sold.'
With Blood Grin dead, the ring's original blood imprint had dissolved the moment its master perished. All Su Tianhao needed to do was establish his own claim.
He bit his thumb and let a single drop of blood fall onto the ring's surface.
Sizzle...
The blood was absorbed instantly. A faint warmth spread through his hand as the ring recognized its new owner—the connection settling into place like a lock finding its key.
'Mine now.'
Without delay, he retrieved his old storage pouch and began the transfer.
First, his previous fortune of one thousand six hundred gold coins. Then the healing pills and Qi recovery pills remaining from Lu Ruyi's gift. The inscription materials. Shadowfang. And finally, the third scroll containing his mother's pill recipes.
When the transfer was complete, he took stock.
One hundred spirit stones. Twenty-six thousand six hundred gold coins. Combined with the resale value of the third scroll and Blood Grin's assassin equipment, his total wealth had become something that would have seemed absurd just weeks ago.
'Finally... I'm no longer scrambling for scraps,' he thought, feeling a genuine weight lift from his shoulders.
But the satisfaction was brief.
His golden eyes drifted toward the closed door, expression quietly shifting.
'Xie Ling.'
He had secured her freedom in name. But words and council agreements meant nothing if Su Liang chose to act in secret. The Second Elder's bitterness ran deep, and his vindictive nature was well-known. Leaving Xie Ling vulnerable—even for a single night—was a risk Su Tianhao refused to accept.
'I need to get her out of the Su family estate tonight. No delays. No room for interference.'
He rose from the bed and slipped the spatial ring onto his finger. It gleamed faintly in the darkened room—a quiet testament to his victory over Blood Grin.
He adjusted his azure robes, retrieved a hooded cloak he had prepared beforehand, tied his hair back into a long ponytail, and walked to the door.
Outside, the night air was cool and still. Xie Ling remained beneath the oak tree, her cultivation undisturbed.
Su Tianhao's gaze rested on her for a moment, expression unreadable.
'Tonight, I repay the last debt,' he thought quietly.
Then, without a sound, he stepped forward.