Reincarnated with a lucky draw system-Chapter 500: YE YOULAN

News of Chen Mo’s revival raced across the cultivation realms like poison through veins.

Whispers turned to shouts, then to proclamations carved on jade slips and nailed to every sect gate.

The crippled trash was crippled no longer. He walked again, sword in hand, leaving behind a marketplace turned slaughterhouse, bodies of Heaven’s Ascension disciples strewn like broken dolls, blood thick enough to paint the earth red.

The tale grew with every telling: eyes burning with unholy light, a blade that severed more than flesh.

The Orthodox Alliance responded swiftly and without mercy.

A bounty appeared on Chen Mo’s head, astronomical spirit stones, rare elixirs, even a promised favor from the alliance elders themselves.

A neutralization team was assembled: cold-eyed killers, peak experts in tracking and assassination, their orders clear, bring him back alive if possible, dead if necessary.

The most expensive bounties placed, belonged to none other than Xu Canghai, sect master of Heaven’s Ascension, whose personal grudge burned hotter than any righteous decree.

Chen Mo became prey.

They hunted him without pause, through fog-choked valleys, over razor-sharp mountain ridges, into caves where light never reached.

Every shadow hid an assassin’s blade; every ally proved false for the right price.

Exhaustion gnawed at his bones, but survival was sharper than any wound.

He fled westward, deeper and deeper, until he crossed the jagged border into unorthodox alliance territory.

Here, the rules fractured.

The Orthodox Alliance’s reach weakened to whispers and bribes.

Open pursuit meant trespass, and trespass meant war between the two great factions.

Patrols thinned to cautious scouts; ambushes grew rare.

For the first time in endless months, Chen Mo found slivers of respite, hidden grottos lit by dim spirit lanterns, ruined pavilions where the wind carried only the scent of damp stone and distant thunder.

Rest came, brittle and fleeting.

But men like Xu Canghai did not forgive unfinished business.

He knew Chen Mo’s talent too well, the monstrous potential that had once made him the sect’s shining star.

Left unchecked, the boy would return as a calamity, a blade aimed at the heart of Heaven’s Ascension.

Direct force in unorthodox lands risked catastrophe, so the sect master chose shadows over light.

He went underground.

Deep in unorthodox territory lay the Nether Abyss Sect, a fortress of black obsidian carved into a sheer cliff face, its halls thick with the cloying sweetness of incense mixed with subtle venom.

Blue ghost-flames flickered in iron braziers, casting long, restless shadows across walls etched with writhing demonic runes.

The air tasted metallic, heavy with the promise of poison and secrets.

In a secluded chamber far from prying eyes sat a woman shrouded entirely in midnight silk.

A translucent veil concealed her face, leaving only her smooth, pale hands visible, fingers long and elegant, nails painted the color of fresh blood.

She lounged on a low divan carved from dark jade, one leg crossed over the other, radiating lazy confidence.

Xu Canghai sat opposite her on a plain wooden stool, his own form hidden beneath a plain gray robe devoid of sect insignia.

The disguise was necessary; no one could know the righteous sect master of Heaven’s Ascension had come crawling to this den of heretics.

His reputation, built on piety, discipline, and unyielding orthodoxy, would shatter if word escaped.

Beside him rested a cup of steaming tea, its aroma rich and herbal. He never touched it. Trusting anything brewed in the Nether Abyss Sect would be suicide.

"Quite the surprise," came a feminine voice, soft as silk yet edged like a hidden dagger. "To find the sect master of an orthodox sect venturing all this way personally... just to place a bounty."

Xu Canghai’s jaw tightened. Irritation flickered across his stern features, barely concealed.

"Are you going to accept the bounty or not?" he asked, voice clipped and cold.

He had never liked her.

She was the sect master of the Nether Abyss Sect, risen to power at an absurdly young age through a chain of impossible fortunes.

A once-in-a-millennium epiphany during secluded meditation.

A divine artifact unearthed in the forbidden Tomb of Fallen Heavenly and Demons during her final trial expedition.

Those strokes of heavenly favor had propelled her cultivation forward at a terrifying pace, allowing her to challenge the previous sect master, a tyrannical brute feared by all.

The war that followed lasted seven full days and nights. Rivers of blood soaked the sect grounds; screams echoed through the abyss.

In the end, she stood victorious, having slain the old master and every elder who dared support him.

The throne was hers, claimed in slaughter and sealed in fear.

"Why stare at me with so much hatred?" she teased, voice lilting with amusement.

Behind the veil, her lips surely curved in a mocking smile.

"If not for me... you would still be nothing more than a grand elder, wouldn’t you?"

Xu Canghai’s fingers tightened on the edge of his stool until the wood creaked.

He forced his expression neutral.

But the air between them crackled with old grudges and fresh danger.

"You’re the reason I can’t advance my cultivation!"

Xu Canghai’s voice cracked like thunder in the dim chamber. His composure shattered; qi surged outward in wild, uncontrolled waves.

The air thickened, heavy with metallic pressure that made the blue ghost-flames flicker violently.

Teacups rattled on the low table. Shadows twisted on the walls as though recoiling from his rage. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

The veiled woman, Ye Youlan, sect master of the Nether Abyss Sect, tilted her head slightly.

Her soft voice cut through the storm like a blade wrapped in silk.

"I advise you to control your temper," she said, tone shifting from playful to deadly serious.

"Unless you want this meeting to end in a fight."

The warning landed like cold iron.

Xu Canghai’s jaw clenched.

Every instinct screamed to unleash his full power, to crush the mocking woman before him.

But he knew better. This was her domain, poison in the air, traps woven into every shadow, assassins likely watching from hidden alcoves.

One wrong move, and he would never leave these halls alive.

With visible effort, he forced the leaking qi back into his dantian.

The pressure eased. The flames steadied. The chamber grew quiet again, save for the faint drip of condensation from the obsidian ceiling.

Ye Youlan watched him in silence, her pale hands resting calmly in her lap.

Years earlier, during the brutal internal war that had torn the Nether Abyss Sect apart, the Orthodox Alliance had seen opportunity.

They fed false intelligence, deliberate lies planted by spies, that the conflict still raged, that the sect was vulnerable and leaderless.

The plan was simple: march in while both sides bled each other dry, crush the survivors, and claim a decisive blow against the unorthodox faction.

They had been fools.

The war had ended days before their forces even crossed the border.

Ye Youlan’s trap snapped shut like a venomous jaw.

The Orthodox Alliance’s ambush became their own slaughter.

The sect master of the Heavenly Alliance perished in the chaos, body torn apart by hidden arrays.

Xu Canghai himself, then a grand elder, had barely escaped with his life... only to be struck by a insidious poison that sealed his path to higher realms forever.

Advancement became impossible.

The bitterness of that day still burned in his veins.

Ye Youlan’s mocking smile, hidden behind the veil, felt like salt in an old wound.

"Alright," she said at last, breaking the heavy silence.

"What do you want? I’m growing bored of looking at your face."

Xu Canghai leaned forward, voice low and venomous.

"How much to kill him?"