Chapter 175: It gets the benefits, you take the blame!

Chapter 175: It Reaps the Rewards, You Take the Fall!

There’s an extra one?

Hearing this, the staff discreetly followed Sheng Qingquan's gaze.

The stall Sheng Qingquan noticed sold various hand-stitched embroidered crafts—decorative yet practical household items.

This aligned with their earlier theory.

The stall owner was a thirty-something man. Behind him stood a woven bamboo chair with a backrest, for when he needed a break from standing.

Under the chair was a lower stool.

A boy, about eleven or twelve, sat on the stool, chin propped on one hand while aimlessly dragging a stray twig across the ground with the other.

The boy’s age matched! Kids that age are usually in grade school.

The only mismatch was that he wasn’t doing homework at the moment.

But if Xi Changgeng in the original story didn’t come today, or wasn’t here at this time, the kid couldn’t be doing homework all day.

What kind of torture would it be to write nonstop during a holiday?

Even though there wasn’t another table besides the stall’s display table—which was packed with goods, with no room left for homework—any parent could tell you kids didn’t necessarily need a proper desk for homework.

Especially for temporary use, there was no need to fuss over it.

If he really wanted to write, the backrest chair could double as a perfect desk.

Looking closer, two baskets were placed under the stall table, filled with various embroidered items—likely for restocking.

But from one basket’s edge, a navy-blue strap peeked out. A familiar sight: a schoolbag strap.

So the kid had his backpack.

He was fully equipped to do homework here.

As for the stall table, aside from the side near the owner, the other three sides were decked out with small colorful flags to jazz things up.

The flags alternated between colored and national flags.

The rectangular table had four flags on each side and eight at the front.

For symmetry, the flags were evenly spaced, but upon closer look, one spot looked a bit crowded.

Two national flags were placed together, as if there was an extra one.

They were now 80% sure: one of these two national flags was the Soul Refining Banner they were searching for.

Sheng Qingquan walked over, acting interested in the merchandise.

Near the two national flags stood a three-tiered bamboo sieve rack, filled with sachets and car hangings.

He appeared to be carefully selecting handmade embroidered car charms from the display basket, but in reality, he had been observing those two national flags the whole time.

Sheng Qingquan had initially thought it would take quite some time to figure out which flag was fake—or perhaps he might never figure it out and would have to find a way to take both flags away.

Even worse, what if neither flag was it? What if they had simply come to the wrong stall, and the Soul Refining Banner was at another vendor’s spot?

Not only would their efforts be wasted, but there was also the risk of alerting the enemy prematurely.

However, as soon as Sheng Qingquan approached, the imperial seal hidden within his body sent him a signal.

The imperial seal had the power to control fate.

Though its time as the imperial seal was long over, the people living on Tianlanxing were still its people.

This nation remained its homeland.

If it were anything else, it might not have mattered—but the Soul Refining Banner had disguised itself as a national flag.

Even if these flags were small, palm-sized, and not the grand ones used for flag-raising ceremonies, they were still national flags.

One was a national flag, the other an imperial seal—both symbols of the nation.

Naturally, they could sense each other.

Of course, since these flags were ordinary and lacked spiritual energy, only the imperial seal could one-sidedly detect them for now.

At this moment, the imperial seal flagged the fake to Sheng Qingquan with perfect clarity.

No matter how good the disguise, a fake is still a fake.

You aren’t linked by fate with this nation.

To put it simply, ordinary flags and Tianlanxing were like sticky rice cake and the countless grains of toasted soybean powder coating its surface—inseparable, tightly bound.

But this flag was completely separate from Tianlanxing.

The imperial seal spotted it right away—there was no hiding from it.

"Great timing—I’m flying to the capital to watch the flag-raising ceremony. It’s going to be packed! Boss, I’ll buy a car charm—how about throwing in one of these little flags as a freebie?"

"I’ll take it along for the occasion. Saves me the trouble." Sheng Qingquan picked up an exquisite car charm with a smile, bargaining with the vendor.

The vendor was easy to deal with. For something so cheap, he’d gladly give it away—especially since Sheng Qingquan was buying something. Even if a tourist asked without purchasing, he’d happily oblige.

Leaving a good impression meant customers might return.

Even if they didn’t revisit his stall, just coming back to the tourist spot would be great.

As a local whose family relied on this attraction for a living, he naturally wanted it to thrive.

The vendor agreed readily. After paying, Sheng Qingquan casually plucked the fake flag from its spot.

The fake flag didn’t resist. It remained docile, maintaining its disguise as an ordinary little flag.

Because it had heard Sheng Qingquan’s words.

Somewhere even more crowded?

The fake flag was immediately tempted.

It decided to stay obediently in the other's hand—this ride, it was hitching no matter what.

A golden opportunity like this had just fallen into its lap.

At this moment, Sheng Qingquan appeared to be just an ordinary person, with just a smidge of cultivation—nothing impressive. So the fake flag didn’t suspect a thing, never imagining he could do anything to it.

Even as Sheng Qingquan walked farther off with the flag, distancing himself from the crowd and heading into increasingly remote areas—where the fake flag should have grown wary—it remained unsuspecting, simply because it knew nothing about Tianlanxing.

Sheng Qingquan got into a car, saying he was heading to the airport. As he spoke, he complained about how remote the airport was.

The undercover officer playing driver casually agreed, "What can you do? Planes taking off and landing are so noisy. If the airport were in a bustling urban area, flying would be convenient, sure, but the noise would disturb residents—folks would raise hell."

"Besides, every square inch costs a fortune. The cost of acquiring enough space to build an airport there could fund several airports elsewhere. No point, just no point."

The officer then struck up a conversation with the passenger, asking, "Off on vacation? Where to?"

"The capital? The capital’s packed. With the holidays now, people from all over the country are flocking there. Scoring a ticket’s a miracle..."

The whole ride, the fake flag bought the act completely—not only did it remain unsuspicious but also grew increasingly eager.

A crowd—that’s just what it was after.

The more, the better.

Talk about luck... It seemed this capital was truly the place it had to go.

Its survival alone was incredible, but soon recovering too? Incredible.

The fake flag was still congratulating itself when, after an indeterminate amount of time, the car came to a stop.

Had they arrived at the airport so quickly?

Just as the fake flag was thinking this, Sheng Qingquan stepped out of the car and crushed the flag in his hand.

The flag was blindsided—no time to beg or bargain, only managing a brief shriek before crumbling to ash.

The officer pulled a custom-made box from the trunk, and Sheng Qingquan carefully placed the ashes inside.

Nobody batted an eye at how easily the flag was wiped out.

In fact, the original text made it clear that despite the fake flag’s havoc-wreaking reputation on Tianlanxing, it was never that powerful to begin with—even disregarding its eventual fate.

Otherwise, Xi Changgeng wouldn’t have walked away clean, let alone gone to report the incident.

Probably scared of running into another tough nut, after his refusal, the flag stopped seeking so-called "masters" and instead went hell-bent on snatching souls by inciting fights among bystanders.

Truth is, it wasn’t just about quantity—it likely had quality requirements for the souls it consumed.

Best-case scenario? Both. But if it came down to it, quality trumped quantity.

Initially, it had probably targeted Xi Changgeng for his high cultivation level—his soul was premium-grade. It intended to manipulate him into using it to resurrect someone, then convince him that doing so required it to grow stronger first.

To grow stronger, it would need a sufficient number of high-quality souls. Bit by bit, it’d sink its claws into him, making Xi Changgeng its personal attack dog.

Xi Changgeng's strength was enough to capture high-value targets. If he didn’t want to kill too many people, he had to be selective about his kills.

It didn’t need to do anything—just wait for people to be delivered to it so it could drain their souls.

If it wasn’t exposed, it would continue. But if rumors spread and someone came investigating, it would skip town, let Xi Changgeng take the fall, and find a new host to continue with.

All gain, no pain—humans took the heat.

This way was more covert.

It could hide in the shadows and slowly grow stronger.

Unfortunately, in the original story, the perfect plan fell through. Perhaps due to time constraints or other reasons. Maybe without Xi Changgeng, it couldn’t find a suitable scapegoat, nor could it leave the Yunying Reservoir area, missing its window to scout new marks.

So it had to switch plans.

Screw quality—it went for quantity instead as a stopgap.

But this time, forget sticking to the plan—it didn’t even get a chance to start.

It croaked before getting started.

Yet nobody shed any tears over its death.

"Rot in hell!"

After confirming that it was stone-cold dead, everyone could finally breathe easy.

Sheng Qingquan handed the box to the staff, washed and disinfected his hands, then headed straight home.

The moment the fake flag was destroyed, the merchandise gifts materialized.

Before seeing the fake flag, though Sheng Qingquan knew its initial power was limited, he had stayed on high alert. But after actually obtaining it and examining it repeatedly, he realized—

Why was it even pathetically weaker than he’d imagined?

This thing was laughably weak!

Supposedly a relic, but regardless of its original state, right now, it didn’t feel much stronger than government-issue talismans.

He could pick up on its frailty, as if it had taken a beating.

This reminded Sheng Qingquan of the vortex he’d seen earlier.

The Magic Brush had emerged from the vortex.

If this flag had also come from there, and if, like the Queen Beecicada, it had been severely injured before arriving, the pieces fell into place.

Once he confirmed the flag was a sitting duck, Sheng Qingquan decisively crushed it.

No sense waiting for easy prey to toughen up.

By then, crushing it wouldn’t be so easy.

After dealing with the flag and returning home, the merchandise gifts hovered in front of Sheng Qingquan. They appeared as a puddle of pale blue liquid.

The water spread thinly, swallowing him whole.

Moments later, the watery film dissolved completely.

It was like sleeping under a thick quilt on a cold day—a strangely comforting feeling.

"So the Soul Refining Banner wasn't all lies after all!"

"It really does have the ability to protect its master’s soul."

Sheng Qingquan could clearly feel the difference before and after.

"A human’s soul is naturally protected by the body, just like keeping a wallet in a drawer—you can’t take it out unless you open the drawer. But now, with these merchandise gifts, it’s like adding a heavy iron lock to the outside of that drawer."

"If someone wants to get the wallet, it’s way harder now."

"And this lock is electrically charged. If anyone tries to pick it, they might get electrocuted before they even succeed."

"So, if someone tries to mess with his soul, Sheng Qingquan won’t even get hurt—the attacker would get zapped first?" The others’ eyes lit up.

Now this is awesome!

It really is a good thing. While he was satisfied, Sheng Qingquan still felt a bit of regret.

"Shame it's only for me."

Still, having it is better than not. He quickly shook off the disappointment and dove into the National Day holiday.

"Since the problem was solved on the first day, the rest of the vacation is all play!"

Especially since he didn’t even need to scramble for train tickets—with his mech, he could go anywhere he wanted.

How cool is that!

Sheng Qingquan had a great time for several days, even traveling to the capital to watch the flag-raising ceremony.

The National Day holiday was over way too fast. He had hoped to extend his vacation—after all, he didn’t have work waiting.

But just as the holiday concluded, it seemed fate had decided his break was over.

Early the next morning, before he could even get out of bed, the Golden Finger shocked him awake.

As soon as he opened his eyes, a book was bouncing up and down on top of him.

Sheng Qingquan grabbed the book, mourning his lost vacation, then gave in and opened the novel.

"Vacations always end too soon. No matter how long they are!"

"Let’s see what this Doomsday's about this time."

"Did another dangerous object appear somewhere, or have aliens set their sights on something else on Azure Star?"

"Did someone’s good deed go wrong again, or is this some mix-up?"

By now, he was an experienced Golden Finger user.

No matter what the trope was, nothing would surprise him.

Sheng Qingquan thought calmly, even allowing himself a moment to wonder if he still had time for breakfast.

And if he did, what would be good to eat?

"Would eating roast duck first thing in the morning be too greasy? The wontons are good, light, and refreshing, but one bowl isn’t filling. Having multiple bowls gets old fast."

"Maybe I'll go with some steamed buns—they’re more substantial."

"Or perhaps the classic combo: youtiao, soy milk, and tea eggs? But eating the same thing all the time gets stale—I’d like a change once in a while."

Sheng Qingquan was still waffling when suddenly, the noisy chatter in his mind cleared, leaving only a single thought.

"Seriously? I was mentally prepared for all kinds of bizarre apocalypses, but this is not what I saw coming?"

The staff, who had been working diligently but with relatively light hearts under Sheng Qingquan’s influence, instantly lost their relaxed mood. Their stomachs dropped.

What had happened?

How bad must it be for Sheng Qingquan to react like this?

Everyone braced themselves.

Some even had their phones out, fingers hovering over emergency contacts, ready to notify higher-ups at a moment’s notice to prepare in advance.

"Well this is new."

"Before, Academicians and other leaders were always on my case about their younger relatives turning into entitled brats who rely on their family’s influence."

"They don’t have to be ambitious, but the fear is that they’d abuse their family’s power and wealth to commit every crime in the book."

Sheng Qingquan had even overheard a few leaders comparing notes on how to raise their kids properly to prevent them from going astray.

And given how much he traveled, he’d encountered plenty of rich kids and grandkids.

Some had drive, others didn’t.

Among the driven ones, some went full villain.

Among the trust fund babies, some kept it harmless—just enjoying themselves with friends, dining out, shopping, traveling, or gaming together. Worst case? Some partying.

Overall, nothing to write home about.

But there were also real pieces of work.

Whenever Sheng Qingquan encountered the bad ones, he’d secretly notify their parents, being that snitch.

If the parents didn’t intervene, someone else soon would.

Admittedly, this actually cleaned up Tianlanxing’s social climate quite a bit.

"I’ve seen all kinds of trust fund babies."

Everyone knew Sheng Qingquan wasn’t blowing smoke—he really had seen and dealt with them all.

But why bring this up now?

They exchanged glances.

"But this? This is a first for me."

"Holy hell, compared to this, all the troublemakers I’ve met before were just amateur hour."

"Even the worst guy, who got himself sentenced to death and dragged his entire family down with him, didn't go this far."

The staff were fully aware of Sheng Qingquan's past actions. Fearing he might offend too many people, they had even preemptively reported some incidents to higher-ups.

Hearing this, everyone reflected: "The worst guy he’s ever known must be that kid from the Shi family."

"He directly or indirectly ruined hundreds of lives."

"Everything was initially suppressed by Old Man Shi and his crew. Later, when it came to light, Old Man Shi got hauled in, family and all."

"Not long ago, I heard Old Man Shi put in a request from prison, hoping for leniency. He said he didn’t mind prison but begged them not to cut him off from Immortal Cultivation. He wanted the authorities to provide him with a cultivation manual so he could practice in prison."

"That request was rejected. The person who relayed the message also received disciplinary action."

"Old Man Shi isn’t young anymore—he’ll likely rot away as an old man in there. Zero shot at cultivating now."

"Because of this, after the news spread, fewer people are committing crimes."

"Everyone's afraid of being cut off from cultivation. If you're older when imprisoned with a long sentence, someone who might’ve ascended to immortality or at least lived centuries might just take the gamble and bounce."

"No one wants that."

"Worse than the Shi family kid? What did they do?"

"Could they be the ones who triggered the apocalypse?"

"Before, protagonists in apocalyptic novels were just unlucky scapegoats. But now, we're dealing with an actual villain? They actually committed unforgivable atrocities?"

Someone recalled the cultivation novel they'd stayed up reading last night—it was a damn good read, though the cannon-fodder characters were utterly detestable.

"Did they steal people’s innate talent?" In the book, some rich brat villain had his subordinates capture many gifted individuals, yanking out their gifts to experiment, trying to transplant their talents onto himself.

In reality, there’s no such thing as spiritual roots, but innate talent does exist.

Though transplantation is certainly impossible, what if some psycho actually tried it?

"Or did they kidnap many people of the opposite sex to breed kids?" Another staff member proposed a different possibility.

Many second- and third-generation heirs, lacking talent themselves but having previously sworn off marriage and children, are now betting everything on their kids.

The men flash cash to score chicks—casting wide nets to increase their chances. The women, unable to impregnate others, take matters into their own hands by pursuing highly talented partners, prioritizing ability over all else.

If all else fails, they settle for one-night stands—take the gamble and bounce.

But not all talented individuals are willing to cooperate.

"What if some of these heirs went full supervillain?!"

Who the hell knows?

"When others commit evil, wiping out whole families is next-level evil."

Sheng Qingquan had no idea how deep down the rabbit hole the staff had gone. He was still stuck on it.

"Even in ancient times when people were split into strict castes, the severest legal punishment only implicated their whole bloodline."

"Even if you stacked 'em high, the body count was still capped."

"It just went and destroyed an entire planet."

A suffocating silence.

The group, who’d been wildly speculating moments ago, now looked like strangled geese—completely mute.

They even struggled to breathe, like they were choking.

The planet in Sheng Qingquan’s thoughts—unnamed, but everyone knew which one.

If not Skyblue Star, what else?

You’d think Skyblue Star broke some cosmic law!

And just like that, the last glimmer of hope vanished.

No more delusions—this was real.

Who’d have thought Skyblue Star got wrecked just because some rich brat wanted a joyride? This guy hates taking detours. Given its attitude, the ship’s AI and butler had mapped a direct route—zero detours needed.

But the young master vetoed that. He insisted on plotting his own course.

So he did. But when the ship approached, even though Skyblue Star had been visible from afar—just a slight detour would’ve sufficed—the pampered heir refused to inconvenience itself.

It figured the issue wasn’t *its* route—just this puny planet’s nerve to be in the way.

‘The universe is huge—why’s this rock gotta park in *my* lane?’

‘This dump’s off the grid—no one’s watching. If this planet won’t behave, I’ll *make* it behave!’

[‘"If there’s an annoying rock in your way, just kick it aside. Too big to kick? Blow it up—the road stays clear."’]

[‘"Move it! You deaf? Turn this planet to dust! Or you *like* obstacles?!"’]