Chapter Seventy-Two: The Hero Who Fights Ghosts

“This ghost’s power is greatly diminished. It shouldn’t be able to harm anyone again for a while, but keeping it alive is a disaster waiting to happen.”

Cui Yue frowned deeply at these words. The situation before them was indeed thorny. Perhaps they had narrowly escaped death this time, but who could say if another calamity awaited them in a few days? There’s nothing more unsettling than knowing someone out there is scheming against you. The Painted-Skin Old Fiend pressed on everyone’s hearts like a heavy boulder, leaving them feeling weighed down and anxious.

For a moment, both men fell silent. The elation of their brush with death had already faded, replaced by worry and dread. As they fretted, a loud voice suddenly sounded behind them.

“What should we do? What should we do? We hurt that ghost badly this time, and after suffering such a loss, it definitely won’t let us off. Once it recovers, it’ll come seeking revenge! It won’t spare us!” Zhang Hao’s face was swollen with bruises, his forehead scraped in several places. He crawled over, shouting in distress.

Cui Yue, nerves taut, spun around and saw a shadowy figure crawling toward them. Startled, he nearly lashed out with his sword, thinking another fiend had appeared. Only when he recognized Zhang Hao’s voice did he relax.

“I saw that ghost grab you just now and nearly tear your belly open. I was scared out of my wits,” Zhang Hao said, shuddering at the memory.

“Yeah, me too. I almost wet myself. I was sure I’d die here with not even a scrap of bone left. Wait a minute—you fainted when you fell, didn’t you? How could you have seen anything?” Cui Yue’s tone suddenly turned suspicious as he eyed Zhang Hao.

Zhang Hao’s bruised face flushed bright red as he stammered, “Uh, well, I did faint, but maybe I woke up for a bit and saw some shadows... Look, I swear I wasn’t trying to abandon you! By the time I realized what was happening and tried to help, Glasses Brother had already jumped out of your belly.”

Cui Yue couldn’t be bothered to argue with this coward. If he’d waited for Zhang Hao to come to the rescue, he’d be long dead. His injuries just meant he couldn’t run—otherwise, he’d have vanished without a trace!

Embarrassed, Zhang Hao changed the subject, pestering Qingquan with questions about how he emerged from Cui Yue’s stomach and whether he had some special ability.

With no other choice, Qingquan recounted the events as they’d happened. Zhang Hao didn’t grasp much, thinking it was all just a trick—if he didn’t want to explain, why bother making up stories?

Piecing together the earlier details with Qingquan’s explanation, Cui Yue now understood most of what had transpired.

As it turned out, Qingquan had sensed a trace of demonic energy while passing through this place. A closer investigation revealed an even stronger ghostly aura hidden behind it. Though well-disguised, Qingquan detected a hint of malice.

Alarmed, he became doubly cautious when the fox spirit Jiaona revealed herself. Why would such a thick ghostly energy cling to a fox demon?

Later, by chance, he encountered Cui Yue and inscribed a talisman upon him—both to protect Cui Yue in a crisis and as a trump card. Should a powerful ghost reveal itself and Qingquan be unable to confront it, Cui Yue would inevitably become a target. At that moment, Qingquan could use the shifting shadow technique he’d prepared earlier, transforming his own presence and hiding within the formation, then suddenly reappearing at a different location to launch a surprise attack. This, executed through the rotation of the Eight Trigrams, was his deadliest move.

But such a strategy required deep calculation and considerable time. Even after years of cultivation, Qingquan had only barely mastered this technique as a last resort and hadn’t expected much from it. That they managed to severely injure the Painted-Skin Old Fiend owed more to luck than skill.

Rubbing his head, Zhang Hao’s legs went weak as he recalled the fiend’s appearance. He muttered anxiously, “We’re done for. Just like Glasses said, that Painted-Skin Old Fiend is practically a monster now. Even all of us together aren’t a match for it. Cui Yue, you stabbed it in the—uh—no, the left eye! Glasses Brother stabbed it in the heart! With grudges like these, how could the fiend ever let us go? In a few days, it’ll come for us, and we’ll be lucky if there’s anything left but bones.” He shivered at the thought.

Cui Yue, already troubled, found Zhang Hao’s endless whining unbearable—like a green-headed fly buzzing incessantly around his ear. His headache worsened, and his injuries ached anew. He seriously considered stuffing a dirty sock in Zhang Hao’s mouth.

Qingquan, meanwhile, ignored the chatter, seizing the moment to meditate and regulate his breath.

After a while, Zhang Hao clenched his fist and slammed it against the ground, as if making a great decision. With a righteous air and voice louder than before, he declared, “To hell with it! If I die, I die—a scar on my head is nothing to fear!”

Cui Yue and Qingquan jumped in surprise. What madness had possessed him now?

Clapping his hands and gritting his teeth, Zhang Hao enunciated each word, “As the saying goes, ‘Strike while the iron’s hot—finish him off while he’s weak!’ If we let him go now, next time we’ll be the ones to die. Let’s chase him down and fight to the end! If we spare him, we’re failing in our duty to protect the people’s lives and property. We’d be letting down our motherland and her teachings. We must fight evil to the very end, giving our all until our last breath!”

His words rang with grandeur and righteousness, his expressions and gestures impeccable, flowing like a river without pause. If Cui Yue didn’t know Zhang Hao for the cowardly, shameless rogue he was, he might have been moved to tears.

The truth was, Zhang Hao feared the Painted-Skin Old Fiend’s revenge and was rallying everyone not out of heroism, but to save his own skin. His sense of duty had nothing to do with the people or the nation.

Without much patience, Cui Yue picked up the little peachwood sword, stuffed it into Zhang Hao’s hand, and nodded toward the big screen, signaling for him to seize the moment while his courage lasted.

Zhang Hao gripped the sword, looked at the other two, swallowed hard, and his face paled; his voice trembled. “You—you’re not coming?”

Cui Yue and Qingquan shook their heads, gazing at Zhang Hao with eyes full of encouragement.

“No…”

“Wait, you’re really not going? I have to go alone?”

“Aren’t you the one determined to rid the world of evil and become a hero?”

“With all of us united, we can break through anything, right?”

“No, really, we can’t go. Don’t hesitate—you have our full support. Spiritually, we’re right behind you.”