Chapter 41

"I thought you would never ask."

Zhe Er sighed, turned his back to her, and removed his robes, slowly revealing his back. A wound stretched from his shoulder and neck across his lower back; the flesh was torn open, exposing the bone beneath, and even his internal organs were faintly visible. Had Zhe Er not been a cultivator, he would have long since become a ghost.

Xie Changan did not need to ask; she could easily imagine how fierce the internecine slaughter at Fuguang Mountain had been that day. He had survived not because of luck, but because he was strong enough. It was likely that Zhe Er was now the last remaining heir of the lineage of Master Canmiao.

"Where are the medicinal herbs?"

Sensing that she had softened, Zhe Er exhaled in relief. "There is a flower called the Lingxiao. I know they grow in the human world as well, but the ones that grow here are different. They are called Nine-Nether Lingxiao flowers, found mostly along the banks of the Yellow Springs. They can revive the dead and regrow flesh and bone, which would heal my injuries. Also, I have heard that there is a treasure in the Bone-Reflecting Realm called the Golden Thread Garment, likely in the hands of some great demon or fierce spirit. It has the power to mend souls and replenish spirits. If you could possess it and find a suitable vessel, you could return from the dead and live as a human once more!"

Xie Changan neither agreed nor refused. From her indifferent face, Zhe Er could not discern a shred of anticipation for returning to the world of the living. Zhe Er did not understand, for he was filled with resentment and longed to return to Fuguang Mountain to settle his blood debt; he could not perish here in sorrow from his wounds. He felt that Xie Changan should be the same as him—even if she could not take revenge on Zhu Xuanguang for the time being, she should at least strive to cultivate, for there would be plenty of time in the future.

"Lead the way."

His heart had been hanging by a thread, and hearing Xie Changan say these words, he finally felt the stone drop from his heart.

"Rest assured, once I heal my wounds, I will accompany you to find the Golden Thread Garment."

Having received a glimmer of hope amidst his exhaustion and despair, he tugged at the corners of his lips. Even in his severely wounded state, his handsomeness could not be hidden. The once rounded and dashing contours of his face had been worn away by these days of hardship, leaving only sharp, prominent bones; yet, this smile gave him a touch of tenderness.

And so, one human and one ghost trekked forward through the eerie and vast Bone-Reflecting Realm. Zhe Er dragged his broken body in front, while Xie Changan followed behind, holding her umbrella.

They had not gone far before they encountered a massive host of wandering souls. Thousands upon thousands of ghosts walked in silence toward one direction, as if drawn by some wordless summons. The scene was shocking, truly macabre.

The Yellow Springs were not in that direction. Zhe Er had intended to lead Xie Changan to the back of the line and find an opportunity to slip away quietly, but he unexpectedly startled the army of ghosts. One by one, they turned their heads to look at him.

Though these souls varied in gender and height, their facial expressions were uncannily similar, as if countless identical faces had been grafted onto different people.

Cold sweat broke out instantly on his skin. He did not move, and the ghost army did not move either, but the moment he made the slightest movement, those dull, lifeless eyes would slowly turn to follow him, as if glued to his form.

A chilling aura washed over them. Xie Changan felt nothing, but Zhe Er, a living man, could not remain long under such overwhelming, suffocating Yin energy, and he immediately prepared to retreat.

"Don't move."

Xie Changan was very close, whispering in his ear. Had she been a living person, there would have been a warm breath, but at this moment, he could only feel a chill blowing against his ear.

"It seems they are looking for someone. Their target is not you." As one of their kind, Xie Changan could sense a little more.

The two sides stood in a standoff for a moment. Zhe Er raised his hand slightly, moving from left to right; the eyes of all the spirits turned slowly to follow him. He took a step back, and the ghosts took a step forward.

Xie Changan said, enunciating each word with hidden murderous intent: "Do. Not. Play. Around."

Zhe Er transmitted his voice softly: "They look like puppets controlled by silk threads." He was severely wounded, his breath weak, and he had used his spiritual power to forcibly suppress the scent of a living man.

After a moment of confrontation, the ghosts seemed to detect nothing, and they slowly turned back. The oppressive, somber pressure of countless eyes being fixed upon him lifted, and even Xie Changan could not help but breathe a sigh of relief.

But at that very moment, Zhe Er’s wounds flared up. A prickly, itchy sensation surged from his chest to his throat. He resisted and resisted, but he simply could not hold it back—

"Cough!"

The cough was very soft, but like a feather falling onto a dust-covered floor, it was enough to stir up a cloud of dust.

Every single ghost snapped their heads around, fixing their gaze on them in unison!

Xie Changan: ...
Zhe Er: ...

*Whoosh!*

All the ghosts opened their mouths at once, screaming in silence!

Zhe Er could not hear a sound, but he could feel the spiritual energy rushing toward them like a tide, instantly forcing him to cough up blood and stumble back several steps.

Xie Changan no longer sat by idly; she summoned the Liutian Sword and swung it, the strike carrying the force of a thousand troops. The ghost army was temporarily pushed back by the sword aura, and without a word, the two of them turned and ran for their lives!

Xie Changan was fine; she barely touched the ground, and even with an umbrella in hand, she was faster than Zhe Er. The latter, however, was at the end of his rope; he had barely run any distance before he was coughing up blood and staggering. In that brief moment of distraction, they were surrounded by the ghosts.

All the Yin energy surged over like a collapsing mountain, forcing Zhe Er to lose his footing and vomit another large mouthful of blood. His cultivation and strength had been nearly depleted by the great battle at Fuguang Mountain, and his journey of a thousand miles to the Bone-Reflecting Realm in search of a way to live had left him like a crumbling mountain, irreversible. Everything now relied on Xie Changan alone, wielding the Liutian Sword to carve a path.

The circle of entrapment grew smaller and smaller. They were pressed into a tiny space, and although the ghosts dared not advance due to the power of the sword aura, Xie Changan’s situation was also precarious. When she exhausted her strength, that would be the moment they were swallowed whole by the ghosts.

Zhe Er gasped for breath: "Where did all these wandering ghosts come from?" He had heard his master mention the Bone-Reflecting Realm many years ago. It was said that although this place was a Yin land of the Yellow Springs, it was infested with demons and ghosts, a gathering place for all sorts of outcasts—a "bustling" place in another sense. But in terms of mere wandering ghosts, they should have been few, because ordinary spirits arriving here would soon be eaten as food and could not survive for long.

Yet, looking out, the endless, dense mass of ghosts covered his vision, making one's skin crawl, as if all the wandering spirits of the world had been gathered here.

"War in the human world. The people are living in misery." Xie Changan’s voice was cold, edged with ice. It was not as bright and cheerful as when he met her at Beihui Feng Mountain, nor as gentle and soothing as when she bade him farewell after leaving Fuguang Mountain.

"The people are living in misery" were just a few light words written on paper, yet here they were, represented by thousands upon thousands of ghosts. These spirits were a gray, indistinct mass; one could only distinguish their features and forms, but not their faces or clothing from when they were alive. They were all the common folk who had fallen under the chaotic hooves of horses and the blades of swords.

"The one who summoned them is hiding among these ghosts," she said suddenly.

Zhe Er was startled and tried his best to distinguish, but all he could see were identical, numb faces. "Where?"

Zhe Er looked up. In the vast sea of ghosts, there truly seemed to be one face that was different, flickering with a bizarre smile, too fast to capture. When he looked again, those ghostly faces were once again terrifyingly similar.

The ghostly aura pressed in step by step. They were trapped, with no room left to escape. Xie Changan caught her breath and said suddenly: "I cannot hold on much longer. I will open a path for you one last time—find your chance and run!"

Zhe Er gritted his teeth, about to say, "No—"

"You didn't just happen to run into me."

Her cold words were enough to make Zhe Er’s face pale.

"You came for me with calculated intent from the very beginning, because the Nine-Nether Lingxiao flower grows in the Yellow Springs. A living person would vanish the moment they touch it; only a spirit that has recently died can pluck it."

The faint light in those eyes, deep as the sea, flickered like a spark in the wilderness before vanishing into nothingness. She did not give him another chance to speak.

"I give you half an incense stick of time. Get out!"

With that, Zhe Er’s arm was suddenly grabbed and yanked forward with great force! As several sword auras crisscrossed, the fierce spirits in front of him vanished into thin air, and those behind were also struck by the sword aura, scattering backward, truly carving a path for Zhe Er.

He turned his head to look at Xie Changan, who was standing behind him, holding the line solely with the power of the Liutian Sword. But this lingering power could not last long; the moment the sword's master truly fell, the sword would be nothing more than a weapon.

Zhe Er gritted his teeth, gathered his remaining strength, and fled.

Once Xie Changan felt he had run far enough, her spirit relaxed. She could no longer hold on, and she knelt, leaning on her sword to gasp for air; her figure became even more transparent. She could feel her spiritual energy flowing out of her body, bit by bit. As the ghost army pressed in from all sides, covered by layers of cold, ghostly aura, her consciousness began to fade.

*At least this time, I shall finally vanish completely,* she thought, letting her body fall forward.

But it did not happen.

When she regained consciousness, it was pitch black before her. She could not move her body, but she could clearly feel a swaying, jolting motion, as if she were being carried or tucked away by someone running at high speed. She could hear the sound of breathing and rushing water. These sounds wove into a strange, lulling rhythm in the darkness, causing Xie Changan to drift back into sleep.

Until she smelled a faint scent of blood.

For someone living in a chaotic world, blood was a scent all too familiar. It was either one’s own or someone else’s. But this time, Xie Changan’s sensation was peculiar. She felt as if she had become a statue worshipped on an altar; the scent of blood drifted into her internal organs like incense, and as she slowly drank it in, her spirit began to improve.

"Who are you?"

She listened quietly for a moment, and after confirming that the other party seemed to have no ill intent, she finally spoke.

"You’re awake?" The voice was also familiar.

It was actually Zhe Er.

Zhe Er waited for a long time, but did not receive a follow-up from Xie Changan. He sighed.

"Did you think I would abandon you and escape alone?"

He was holding a tattered umbrella in his arms, looking as if he were talking to himself. The umbrella naturally did not make a sound, or perhaps it simply did not want to bother with him.

Zhe Er did not mind and continued, "My coming to find you with an objective does not contradict my saving you. You charged off to die alone without a word, and you wouldn't listen to my explanation. I did not betray you, Xie Changan. Don't you think you are being too judgmental of me?"

"If I hadn't carved a path of blood for you, would you be able to chatter like this now?" The girl’s cold voice came from inside the umbrella.

Zhe Er was used to her harshness and said humbly, "Yes, yes, it is all thanks to Master Xie for saving my dog’s life. Since I didn't abandon you, could you please stop being so fierce with me?"

Xie Changan could certainly be soft-spoken and understanding, but that Xie Changan was already dead. The vengeful ghost, Xie Changan, could not be bothered to pay him any mind and simply stopped speaking again.