Chapter 108.2 This Life and Past Life (Part 5)
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The scene shifted to a pitch-black cave on Yinghui Peak.
Damp and cold, with nameless insects crawling on the moss.
Flickering faint blue ghostly lights appeared, illuminating the melancholy features of a young man beside a gray-blue butterfly. His black cloak accentuated his increasingly pale complexion.
There was a small step in the cave.
Ji Wuduan followed the light and moved forward.
Bloodstains meandered beneath his feet as the steps turned, finally leading him to an empty platform where he saw the person he knew he would encounter.
“Elder Di Feng, it’s been a long time.”
Ji Wuduan sneered and spoke, his thin lips parting.
Elder Di Feng cowered within his black cloak, his body mere skin and bones, his gaze as cold as a venomous snake. In a hoarse and low voice, he said, “So, you’ve come to Yunxiao.”
“Seeing the state in which those disciples of Yunxiao were killed outside, I figured it had to be you.”
Elder Di Feng laughed sinisterly. “Hahaha, what does it matter if you guessed it was me? You coming to Yunxiao saves me the trouble of returning to Ghost Realm to find you.”
Ji Wuduan, tall and thin, always carried an air of frailty like a mortal scholar, but now a strong aura of killing intent surged in his cold eyes. “Where did you put the souls of the people you killed after extracting them?”
Elder Di Feng burst into loud laughter, brimming with arrogance. “Where did I put them? Of course, they are being used to refine my Profound Yin Hundred Ghosts Formation. Unexpected, isn’t it? Being labeled as an extremely wicked person and hunted down by all of you, I happened to obtain the ancient Ghost King’s secret techniques and formation flag in Tianyan City, hahaha! Once my formation is complete, I will command all the dead in this world. I will conquer the realm of ghosts, and I will turn all of you into my puppets!”
Ji Wuduan’s dark pupils contracted abruptly.
The flag of the Profound Yin Hundred Ghosts Formation?!
Elder Di Feng continued his grim laughter. “The souls of Yunxiao’s disciples are truly excellent materials for my formation. Hahaha! If I were to obtain Pei Yuzhi’s soul, my chances of success would be close to one hundred percent. Ji Wuduan, and your immortal father, what do you ghost cultivators understand? The demonic path of Asura cultivation has never known the laughable sentiment of pity. All of you deserve to die!!”
Ji Wuduan narrowed his eyes and sneered, “You overestimate yourself.”
Elder Di Feng erupted in anger, “Do you think you have the right to speak before me?!”
He brushed his sleeve, instantly generating a surge of black gust, directly sweeping the bats clinging to the mountain walls, ferocious and menacing, tearing towards Ji Wuduan.
The black bats revealed their cyan fangs.
Ji Wuduan’s gaze swept across, and the nearby ghostly flames surged forth, engulfing and incinerating the bats. Amidst the agonizing moans of the creatures, gray powder gently fell, fluttering like butterflies…
Skeletons transformed into blue butterflies.
Elder Di Feng’s eyes widened, struggling to speak, “You… you’re not in the mid-Nascent Soul stage?!”
Ji Wuduan wore a faintly mocking smile, his expression feeble. “What do you think?”
He advanced, the aura of death and ghostly energy dispersing, oppressing the air with a chilling heaviness. The surrounding ghostly flames formed a chain, about to bind Elder Di Feng’s soul.
Elder Di Feng’s expression changed dramatically.
“Soul-Locking Rope?! You actually have a Soul-Locking Rope?!”
Startled, he took a step back in fear, frantically pressing his fingers against a mechanism on the stone wall behind him. After a series of clicking sounds, the stone wall opened, revealing an abyss-like precipice.
Elder Di Feng turned around, intending to escape.
However, Ji Wuduan’s brow grew cold. “Do you think you can escape today?” His figure became elusive like ghostly smoke, closely pursuing, but upon taking the first step inside, he sensed that something was amiss!
Di Feng suddenly turned his head, revealing an extremely sinister smile on his lips. In a split second, his fingers pierced Ji Wuduan’s brow, splattering blood between the two of them. The Profound Yin Hundred Ghost Formation suddenly emitted a dazzling red light. It seemed that something beneath the abyss was awakening, and cries of various malevolent spirits echoed.
Elder Di Feng’s gaze turned malicious. “I’ve been searching for the core of the formation, originally planning for it to be Pei Yuzhi because he’s the only one qualified. But since you’ve come knocking on my door, don’t blame me for being impolite. Now, I’m the one controlling the formation, and you are its core—Ji Wuduan! I dare you to continue defying me! Roll down and keep the company of those malevolent spirits.”
He grabbed Ji Wuduan’s arm, intending to push him into the abyss.
Little did he expect that Ji Wuduan remained unmoved.
Elder Di Feng’s voice abruptly ceased as he stared blankly at him.
Blood trickled from the young and melancholic Ghost Realm Young Master’s brow, red like cinnabar, but his gaze was filled with scornful mockery.
“Do you think as the Young Master of Ghost Realm, my understanding of the Profound Yin Hundred Ghost Formation would be inferior to yours?”
Elder Di Feng’s eyes widened—simultaneously sensing his own magical power dwindling, his Nascent Soul wailing and dispersing. He opened his mouth, and now genuine fear finally surfaced in his eyes. “You…”
Ji Wuduan spoke, “Life and death exchange, the alternation of heaven and earth, the core kills the formation—do you think the core cannot kill the one who creates the formation?”
Elder Di Feng seethed with hatred and attempted to struggle, but his limbs felt powerless. Moreover, something crawled up from the abyss and gripped his ankles, chilling him to the bone—it was a malevolent spirit. He gritted his teeth, his eyes bulging with a look of sheer horror.
Soon, Elder Di Feng regained his composure, his gaze becoming filled with intense resentment and malice. “The core kills the formation, and with the death of the formation controller, the Profound Yin Hundred Ghost Formation will become restless and enraged. Even if you kill me, my loyal disciple, Ziyang Daoren, will inherit this place. He will refine this formation for me and allow the true Asura Ghost Path from thousands of years ago to return to the mortal realm! The Ghost Realm will be ruled by true malevolent spirits, not a bunch of useless beings like you!”
Ji Wuduan extended his pale fingers to wipe away the blood from his brow, but the red mark remained, etched permanently.
After a long pause, he smiled weakly, his complexion pale. “Interesting, you’ve unwittingly turned me into the core of the formation. The core kills the formation, but it’s not limited to killing the creator of the formation alone.”
Elder Di Feng’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. After disbelief came unbridled fury. “Ji Wuduan… You mean to say that you…!”
However, he could no longer speak a word as a female ghost emerged from the abyss and bit off his head in one swift motion.
A crisp cracking sound resonated as blood splattered Ji Wuduan’s face. He raised his sleeve to wipe it away and looked up, meeting the gaze of the disheveled, swollen-faced female ghost with blood-red eyes. More ghosts climbed up from behind her, their decaying hands leaving marks on the cliff.
The stone door began to close slowly, inch by inch.
Ji Wuduan gazed at the female ghost, at the abyss, and pursed his lips.
The white light gradually dissipated as the stone door closed completely.
His fingers trembled, but… he couldn’t leave anymore… nor could he stay inside…
Sacrificing oneself to feed the ghosts, the core kills the formation.
“Ji Wuduan! Don’t! Come back!”
Pei Jing couldn’t hold back any longer, and hot tears streamed down his face.
He could no longer treat himself as an outsider! He could no longer passively watch everything unfold!
He rushed forward, wanting to pull the frail and silent young man out. However, his fingers were pressed against the stone door, and a bright light erupted.
“Ji Wuduan! Come back! Aren’t you afraid of ghosts?!! Come back! Do you know that you’re afraid of ghosts?!! Do you know that you’re afraid of ghosts?!!”
He screamed with bloodshot eyes, but no one in this world heard him!
At the final moment, the pitch-black stone door closed, and the sickly young man seemed to sense something. He turned his head for a glance—his passion for music, chess, calligraphy, and painting accompanied him by the side of the dead, yet his eyes held a clarity beyond his years. Against the light, behind him, malevolent spirits slowly crawled out from the abyss.
His robe fluttered as he looked at a certain spot. Ji Wuduan breathed lightly, a faint smile playing on his lips, as he calmly said, “Pei Yuzhi, it’s up to you now.”
Thud! The stone door closed!
Pei Jing seemed to witness the final scene. A female ghost climbed onto Ji Wuduan’s shoulder, opened her mouth wide, and tore into him. The sickly and gloomy young master slowly closed his eyes.
“Ah—!!!”
From the main hall of Tianqian Peak, a voice rang out! It came from the depths of the young man’s lungs, from the depths of his soul. Despair, anger, and grief pierced through the vast heavens, casting an icy pallor over the mortal realm.
Pei Jing was already numb with pain. He reached out and touched his face, finding it cold to the touch. He, an outsider who had witnessed everything, was on the verge of collapse. What about Pei Yuzhi? What about Chu Junyu…? He felt as if his soul was being torn apart.
In this realm where he could freely travel, he stumbled and returned to Pei Yuzhi’s side.
In the main hall of Tianqian Peak, before the mirror, the young Sect Master with three thousand silver hairs knelt in anguish. He pounded the edge of the pool with his fist, his bones cracking lightly, blood flowing freely.
Reflected in the mirror was Yu Qinglian, lips stained with blood, lying lifeless in the snowy ground, and Ji Wuduan, who calmly turned around amidst the malevolent spirits beyond the cave entrance.
There were also Wu Sheng and Feng Jin.
Within the vast palace, the Thousand-Faced Buddha had fallen into madness, forsaking his compassionate heart. The white-robed monk, with covered eyes, let his long silk robe fall. His golden eyes were filled with both mercy and sorrow. He had once aspired to enlighten the world, but in the end, it was the Buddha who came to kill the Buddha. The heart of compassion shattered, and the lotus platform crumbled. The most gifted disciple of the Buddha, in the end, left behind only a faint, gentle sigh in this mortal realm.
Along the winding mountain path, the Queen Mother of the West’s robes shimmered, evoking the tangled emotions and grudges of the Azure Bird Clan from years past. Finally, her wish had come true as she unearthed those eyes ablaze with three thousand flames. Her smile turned sinister. “Phoenix Eyes… Hahaha!” Crimson Iris burned, chattering incessantly beside its barely breathing companion against the mountain wall, but no matter what, it couldn’t awaken him.
Blooming Green Flowers in a Pool of Blood, Blue Butterflies born from Ivory Bones, Relic Buddha’s Heart, Phoenix Eyes, One Sword Soaring through the Frost of Wuwang Peak…
They could never return again…
Pei Jing’s tears continued to flow.
However, he knew his own sorrow was only a fraction of what the person kneeling before him was experiencing.
“Ah—!”
The silver-haired young man roared like a dying beast, but his cries came out as muted sobs.
Pei Jing stepped forward and gently held his head, his eyes bloodshot, hs voice trembling, “Stop crying, please, don’t cry… Don’t cry… Can you stop crying? They’re not dead, they won’t die… Stop crying…”
However, there was nothing he could do.
He watched as his stiffened head gradually lifted.
His silver hair, once bright and vibrant, his gaze hollow and his presence reeking of blood. The lively youth of yesteryears had been mercilessly killed by this year’s snow.
Pei Jing longed to kiss away his tears, but crossing through time and space left only illusions.
He could only watch as he stiffly stood up.
Stepping back to the center of the mirror.
Just one more step remained to connect his consciousness to the Institute of Celestial Ascension.
Pei Jing wished he could cover his eyes, telling him not to look anymore.
But he still couldn’t do anything.
This helplessness was crushing, but he knew that the person before him was even more helpless, even more sorrowful than he was.
Institute of Celestial Ascension.
Institute of Celestial Ascension.
Was it truly the last hope?
The water mirror finally revealed its image.
The silver-haired youth had a numb expression, gazing forward with an icy coldness.
The Institute of Celestial Ascension stood empty and desolate—beneath the ladder, no one survived.
The water mirror rippled intensely after a long while—
It seemed as if a powerful Nascent Soul stage cultivator had struggled with all his might before his death. Blood was used to write twisted and distorted words that appeared on the surface of the mirror.
Yuzhi, run.
Yuzhi, run.
Pei Jing had already closed his eyes.
The air fell into a dead silence, suffocating, and the snow of that year felt exceptionally cold. After a long while, he heard the young man’s laughter. The laughter was hollow and icy, but then it paused for a moment and turned into suppressed cries.
Once renowned for his swordplay, his name echoed through the ages.
Only a hundred years.
In profound debt, through life and death, to masters and friends.
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