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However, that only applied to those without soul artifacts or vessels.
Take Panlong City’s wrathful souls and heroic spirits, for example. They had the Generous Pot as their anchor, which even allowed them to wander freely about the Panlong Desert. Such divine artifacts were rare beyond measure. He simply assumed that Hong Xiangqian had no such powerful soul vessel, which meant Lu Yao must have hurried to find him a new host after the blade dissolution to provide his original soul with a new home.
Ugh, all this thinking is giving me a headache. Screw it, I should just let Father worry about all that complicated stuff.
Back in his own quarters, with He Yue absent, He Lingchuan shut the door and finally pulled out over a dozen items from his robe, laying them one by one across the bed.
These were Lu Yao’s valuables, stolen right under Commandant Zhao’s nose. Since he was the son of a high official, the commandant of the local militia garrison had not openly rebuked him for the scavenging, though his discontent had been plain enough.
The items he had taken for himself were made up of a few silver and gold ingots, some pills, two storage rings, and various odds and ends.
Most importantly, there was also the Ghost-Eye Bow that had occupied his thoughts ever since it had been used against him.
No one had told him that when dormant, the formidable bow shrank down to the size of a man’s palm. Lu Yao had kept it wrapped in gray...
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