Chapter 147: Children’s Laughter (26)
A dense fog filled the surroundings.
Taoist Song Yi held a compass in his hand, his expression grave, the vertical line between his brows deeply furrowed.
However, the compass needle spun wildly, refusing to point steadily in any direction. Several times, it tilted dangerously toward the Gate of Death before narrowly swinging away again, suggesting they had barely escaped disaster time and again.
The official in charge watched with his heart pounding, every step forward feeling like walking on the edge of a blade. His raised foot hesitated to touch the ground, his nerves stretched to the limit.
Taoist Song Yi silently recited the Purification Mantra, suppressing the flood of negative emotions rising within him, trying to restore the calmness he normally maintained when facing danger.
But the fog, thick enough to render visibility nearly zero, had completely cut them off from the outside world. They had no idea what was happening beyond.
They were stranded on an island of information, unable to contact either the rescue team behind them or Yan Shixun’s group ahead. This feeling of being trapped, like standing at the edge of a cliff where the next step might send them plunging into the abyss, made even Taoist Song Yi grow increasingly irritable despite himself.
“Taoist Song,”
The official in charge suddenly grabbed the hem of his robe, jerking him to a stop. Lowering his voice, he said, ”Something’s not right.”
His gaze was locked straight ahead, staring into the fog.
From within, a faint light began to glow, piercing through the mist.
It illuminated the silhouette of a figure.
Someone seemed to be standing there.
Taoist Song Yi immediately began calculating with his fingers out of habit, but just as earlier, he failed.
—The dense fog didn’t just blur their sense of direction; it also cut off his connection to the heavens and earth, blocking his ability to divine.
Unable to determine who was approaching, Taoist Song Yi didn’t rush forward. Instead, he quickly pulled the official in charge aside, feeling his way along the nearby structure and taking cover behind a wall.
They both held their breath, watching the figure stumble through the mist, moving towards the spot where they had been standing just moments before.
But in the next instant, Taoist Song Yi’s pupils contracted sharply, a flash of shock he could not suppress.
—That person was Lu Xingxing, looking utterly devastated!
Taoist Song Yi often scolded this little disciple, frustrated at his lack of progress, but Lu Xingxing was someone he had personally chosen for Haiyun Temple. He was not only exceptionally gifted but had also shared a unique bond with him.
Otherwise, how could a Taoist like Song Yi, who had been earmarked as the next abbot of Haiyun Temple, casually take on a disciple?
Taoist Song Yi truly cared for this young disciple. Even though Lu Xingxing often infuriated him and tested his patience, the boy’s youthful vigor and spirit always made Song Yi smile unconsciously, feeling the vibrant energy of life.
But now, the vibrant spirit and lively energy that had once made Song Yi soften toward him were completely gone from Lu Xingxing.
Lu Xingxing was still wearing the same clothes from the hotel livestream, but they were now torn and tattered. His hair, once neatly styled with gel, had fallen messily across his forehead.
Beneath the shredded fabric of his clothes, faint traces of blood seeped through. He was clutching his abdomen, his face twisted in pain, as if seriously injured.
Lu Xingxing limped out of the fog, his handsome face marred by scrapes and bloody wounds. Even blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
But worse than the physical injuries was the look on his face—one of utter despair.
He no longer looked like a living person, but rather like a wandering spirit.
It was as if everything he had cared about had been lost, and with no hope of escape, he had abandoned all desire to live. Life and death no longer mattered to him.
The light once shining in his eyes had been extinguished, replaced by lifeless emptiness.
Taoist Song Yi felt a sharp, painful tug at his heart amidst his shock.
This was his disciple!
The disciple he had raised noisily from boyhood, the one who had driven him to the brink of losing his temper countless times and made him chase him all around the temple in frustration—yet the one who held a special place in his heart.
It was said that parents loved their youngest child the most; for masters, it was often the youngest disciple they favored most as well.
Especially a disciple like Lu Xingxing, so full of vitality, laughter, and playful affection.
As long as Lu Xingxing was around, Haiyun Temple was never quiet. His laughter and constant apologies would echo through every corridor.
He brought life and warmth wherever he went.
Looking at Lu Xingxing now, appearing as if he had suffered a devastating blow, Taoist Song Yi could no longer care about whether there were other dangers lurking in the fog. He immediately dashed out from their hiding place without hesitation, running straight toward him.
The official in charge cried out, “Hey!” and instinctively reached out to grab him.
But Taoist Song Yi, overwhelmed by his concern for his beloved disciple, moved too swiftly, slipping through his grasp.
Reaching Lu Xingxing, Taoist Song Yi grabbed his arm, frowning and ready to scold him and demand an explanation.
But as Lu Xingxing slowly turned his head to look at him, Taoist Song Yi felt a chill run through his body.
The young man’s eyes were dull and lifeless, completely devoid of light.
Exactly like the eyes of a dead man that Taoist Song Yi had seen before.
—Or perhaps, like someone who had witnessed something far too cruel, and had shattered completely under the weight of it.
“Xingxing?” Taoist Song Yi called out, his voice carrying the authority of a teacher, as he tentatively called out to Lu Xingxing, “What are you doing here?”
Lu Xingxing just stared straight at Taoist Song Yi, as if he didn’t recognize him at all.
He showed no reaction to being grabbed mid-step either, as though he had completely lost all awareness of the outside world. Even his walking seemed to be nothing more than an unconscious act of escape. In reality, his mind had lost control over his body entirely — it didn’t matter anymore what he was doing.
The official in charge remained hidden behind a building, his hand tucked into his pocket, gripping a backup talisman, watching Lu Xingxing warily.
If Lu Xingxing showed even the slightest sign of acting strangely, he was prepared to rush out with the talisman and rescue Taoist Song Yi immediately.
He understood that Taoist Song Yi’s emotions might override his rationality when faced with someone close to him. But at the same time, he remembered clearly what they had seen during the live broadcast before they entered the fog-filled concession area.
Back then, Mr. Yan had already noticed that inside the Jing Estate, imagination could manifest into reality.
Although they had lost signal after stepping into the thick fog and didn’t know what happened afterward during the broadcast, the official could roughly infer from the information Yan Shixun had revealed that this rule likely applied to the entire concession area.
—— Since it was Chi Yan’s ghost child that had turned on them, pulling the program team and the film crew into the old Binhai from a hundred years ago, it was more probable that the ghost child’s influence extended across the entire concession area, not just the narrow confines of the Jing Estate.
After all, Yan Shixun had awakened outside the Jing Estate.
Moreover, the entire concession area had reverted to the appearance of old Binhai from a century ago.
The official in charge was deeply worried that this Lu Xingxing might actually be a figment of Taoist Song Yi’s imagination, born out of his concern for his disciple.
He couldn’t be sure whether this “Lu Xingxing” would pose a threat to them, nor could he predict what the ghost child — who still hadn’t shown itself — might do to two outsiders who had “trespassed” into the concession area. All he could do was stay on high alert.
Especially since he and Taoist Song Yi had just endured something terrifying.
Knowing that the concession area was vast, the official had offered to drive Taoist Song Yi under the pretext of helping him, so they could enter the area together and search for the people trapped inside, who had lost contact with the outside world.
However, just as he drove across the bridge spanning the river, the car’s tire suddenly blew out.
He was about to get out to check when he saw Taoist Song Yi’s face suddenly change dramatically. The Taoist shouted at him to stop, warning that there might be ghosts lurking outside.
Before he could react, there was a loud bang from the roof, and the car’s metal roof caved in sharply, as if something heavy had smashed down onto it.
Not only that — the whole car began to shake violently, struck repeatedly with heavy “thud!” “thud!” sounds.
The thick fog outside completely obscured the ghosts, but they could hear them — hear how the ghosts were madly attacking the car, trying to get at them.
The official had been startled, but thanks to his many years of experience dealing with supernatural entities, he quickly calmed down and began analyzing the situation.
Since their entry had been abrupt, and they hadn’t fully understood the situation inside the concession area at first, the car they drove wasn’t a top-level customized vehicle — just a regular rescue team model.
Even though the car body was made of metal rather than reinforced plastic, judging by the way things were going, they would only be able to hold out for about five more minutes before they’d either be crushed inside a ball of twisted metal or forced to step outside and face the ghosts head-on.
And that would be far too passive.
So, the official quickly discussed with Taoist Song Yi, and the two decided that while the ghosts outside were still reacting slowly, they would seize the initiative, abandon the car, and launch an attack themselves.
Gritting their teeth, they tossed aside the emergency kit inside the vehicle and left the car behind.
But the moment they stepped out, they were stunned.
—— The things attacking the car weren’t visible creatures, but clusters of black human-shaped mist.
They clung to the car, their small misty hands and feet pulling at the doors and puncturing the tires, while others bounced on the roof like mischievous children playing on a trampoline.
At that moment, the official suddenly remembered the last message Yan Shixun had sent him before they lost contact:
“Be careful above your head.”
If these little ghost children hadn’t chosen to attack openly but had instead just clung to the car roof, waiting for them to drop their guard before striking, they might already be dead.
When the two of them exited the car, the clusters of human-shaped mist lifted their heads and stared at them, their misty forms glinting with eerie flashes of light where their eyes would be.
Then, in an instant, they rushed toward them.
The official and Taoist Song Yi managed to barely fight back under the bridge, but no matter which way they ran, the ghost children always got there ahead of them.
The thick fog provided perfect cover for the ghosts to hide their movements.
Meanwhile, they were helpless, forced to watch themselves fall deeper and deeper into a losing battle.
Taoist Song Yi slashed a path forward with his peachwood sword, while the official used talismans to kill off any ghost children that slipped through.
Only through such tacit cooperation were the two of them able to barely carve their way out from the swarming little ghosts.
They had been chased by the ghost children for a long distance, weaving through twists and turns, frantically running between the buildings in the concession area before they finally managed to shake off those undying ghosts.
But the price was steep—they lost their sense of direction, along with the large amount of emergency supplies and spare talismans they had brought.
Because of this, Taoist Song Yi had taken out the compass he carried with him, even though he knew it was difficult to navigate in the concession area, still trying his best to see if he could find the direction leading to the Jing residence.
And their journey to this point had been far from uneventful.
In fact, both Taoist Song Yi and the official in charge were physically exhausted by now.
Since they had heard Yan Shixun mention during the livestream that imagination could become reality, they had been extremely careful not to let their minds wander.
—Unlike Zhang Wubing, who had carelessly imagined “Lin Ting,” they were older and had far more life experience than young people like him, giving them much better self-control.
Even so, they still encountered many dangers on their way here.
Several times, when they were caught off guard, they ran straight into ghosts hidden in the thick fog and had to use up their spare yellow talismans to exorcise them.
The official in charge had originally been puzzled. None of them had imagined any ghosts, so why were these things still appearing?
After some thought, Taoist Song Yi gave an explanation.
It was because the ghost child who had retaliated against Chi Yan was the “Evil Spirit Bone Transformation” type. As a vengeful ghost of this kind, it was practically the strongest ghost within a hundred miles, and it would unconsciously attract other ghosts to gather and follow its lead.
Thus, the ones attacking them now were not imagined ghosts, but real, deadly ones.
This made the official in charge realize another important point—
It meant they could no longer distinguish whether what they saw was a manifestation of their imagination or something that had existed here all along.
That was why, when Taoist Song Yi approached Lu Xingxing, he had refrained from taking any rash actions.
But what the official in charge did not see was that, while he hid behind the corner of a building, warily observing Lu Xingxing, a pair of deathly eyes was also watching him from behind.
A ghost, its whole body pitch-black, wore an old-fashioned outfit. Half of its face had been blown off, with red and white fluids oozing out, streaming down its shoulder and dripping onto the ground where it stood, drop by drop.
The skin on its face was largely missing, with burns twisting and curling the remaining flesh, exposing muscles and blood vessels underneath. The split face could not close together—one half was just a mangled mess of flesh hanging limply over its shoulder, swaying as it moved, while the other half, relatively intact, had a bulging eyeball hanging out of its socket, fiercely glaring at the official in front of it.
The scent of living human flesh made it drool with hunger.
It staggered out from the shadows, and with each slow, shuffling step, pale brain matter dripped onto the path behind it, making faint sounds—
Sounds that were swallowed by the thick fog.
The official in charge was so focused on watching ahead that he completely failed to notice something creeping up behind him.
That ghastly ghost slowly raised its hand, its charred, shriveled fingers reaching toward his back…
Meanwhile, Taoist Song Yi was still gripping Lu Xingxing, his usually stern face now filled with barely concealed anxiety.
Yet Lu Xingxing stood there in a daze, looking utterly soulless. Normally, he would have been most fearful of Taoist Song Yi’s sternness, but now, even as Taoist Song Yi called out to him, he showed no reaction at all.
He simply stood there, blank and motionless.
This sight made Taoist Song Yi’s heart sink heavily.
As a master, how could he bear to see his disciple fall apart right before his eyes?
“Where is Junior Brother Yan? And the others?”
Taoist Song Yi recalled that before entering the concession area, he had not seen Lu Xingxing’s figure on the livestream; he only knew that Yan Shixun and the others were at the Jing Estate.
Now, seeing Lu Xingxing alone and in such a strange state, Taoist Song Yi couldn’t help but feel more anxious. He wondered if Lu Xingxing, like himself and the official, had encountered ghosts along the way but, lacking sufficient strength, had suffered damage to his soul.
Thinking this, Taoist Song Yi placed his hand atop Lu Xingxing’s head, intending to chant a calming incantation.
But just then, a startled cry rang out from nearby—
It was the official in charge!
Taoist Song Yi’s eyes sharpened instantly, and he was about to run back.
He paused briefly, then grabbed Lu Xingxing along with him.
Lu Xingxing remained dazed, letting Taoist Song Yi drag him along without resistance.
He was like a soulless puppet.
But at that moment, all of Taoist Song Yi’s attention was on the official’s safety, and he didn’t look back.
Otherwise, he would have seen the gaze that “Lu Xingxing” cast at his back suddenly fill with greedy, malicious intent— As if it wanted to devour living flesh and blood whole.
The corners of “Lu Xingxing’s” mouth slowly stretched open, extending all the way down to below his ears. His entire lower face split apart, exposing white bones and black mist within, exuding the stench of a rotting corpse. A grotesque smile, one far beyond human limits, twisted across his face.
Taoist Song Yi, relying on his instincts, found his way through the thick fog. When he rushed back to the place where they had just been hiding, he saw the official in charge pinned to the ground by a ghost, struggling desperately to press a yellow talisman against the snarling spirit.
However, the ghost had a firm grip around the official’s neck, causing his face to contort in pain. The weakness brought on by suffocation swept through his body, and even his struggles gradually lost strength.
When the official lifted his head, he found himself face-to-face with the ghost’s eyeball, which dangled in midair. A single strand of bloody muscle tissue still connected it to the eye socket. Several times, the eyeball brushed across his face, leaving behind a sticky, icy sensation that made him almost vomit.
Because of the close distance, he could clearly see the ghost’s gruesome death grimace — even the charred and rotting flesh inside the brain was visible. His stomach churned violently, sour bile rushing up his throat, only to be blocked by the pressure around his neck, forcing the acidic stench of half-digested food to fill his nasal cavity.
To make matters worse, the ghost’s yellowish-white brain matter, mixed with blood and flesh, dripped down from above — landing directly onto his face.
The official watched helplessly as the pale mass came crashing toward him. He struggled with all his might, desperately trying to slap the talisman onto the ghost while tightly shutting his eyes and turning his head away, instinctively trying to dodge whatever was about to hit him in the eyes.
Yet, with a sickening “splat!” sound right by his ear, something sticky and wet splattered across his face.
The official’s tightly furrowed brow twitched — he almost vomited on the spot.
Surrounded by the stench of rot and filth, with his face smeared in brain matter and blood, the revulsion he felt even outweighed his fear of death.
Just as he was growing weaker from suffocation, his arms slowing down in their struggle, he suddenly felt a sharp gust of wind sweep down from above, blowing away the foul air surrounding him.
At the same time, a tremendous force hurled the ghost away.
The official felt the grip around his neck loosen, and at last, fresh air rushed down his windpipe and into his lungs.
He forced his eyes open, just barely, and caught a glimpse of the hem of a Taoist robe swirling through the air — and a figure flashing past him.
It was Taoist Song Yi who had saved him.
Having narrowly escaped death, the official no longer cared about the dangers around him. He collapsed limply onto the ground, greedily gulping down mouthfuls of air.
It was only during the suffocating moments that one truly realized how precious air was.
From deep within the thick fog came a sudden roar, followed by the metallic hum of a peachwood sword slicing through the air.
Then came a “squelch!” sound — and everything fell silent.
The fierce wave of sword energy was so strong that even though the official was some distance away from the source, he could still feel its intensity.
It seemed that Taoist Song Yi had successfully slain the ghost.
At last, the official breathed a sigh of relief, feeling marginally safer.
Taoist Song Yi, wearing cloth shoes, slowly walked back. He bent down and pulled the weakened official up from the ground. He didn’t say a word, but the official immediately understood his meaning.
This was not a place where they could afford to relax.
The official managed a weak smile at Taoist Song Yi and murmured his thanks.
Then he patted himself down and finally fished out a crumpled half-sheet of tissue from his pocket. With a grimace of disgust, he frantically wiped the sticky, semi-solid matter off his face.
The sour, nauseating taste still lingered in his mouth, leaving him looking pale and sickly, feeling utterly revolted and miserable.
But perhaps it was Taoist Song Yi’s fierce attack when slaying the ghost that had triggered something in Lu Xingxing’s memory.
Standing dazed not far away, Lu Xingxing suddenly let out a cry, snapping out of his trance and shouting, “Master!”
Looking like a child who had been scolded and was now throwing himself into a parent’s arms, Lu Xingxing rushed straight at Taoist Song Yi, giving him no chance to refuse. He hugged him tightly and started wailing.
“Master, wuwuwu! Why did you come so late? If you’d come just a bit later, your poor disciple would really have died…”
Taoist Song Yi’s brow twitched. He originally intended to throw this foolish disciple off him.
But thinking that Lu Xingxing had probably just witnessed something horrific, leaving his mind unstable, Taoist Song Yi restrained himself. For the sake of their master-disciple bond, he didn’t kick him away.
“All right, Xingxing.”
He noticed that Lu Xingxing’s body felt somewhat cold — colder than a normal human temperature.
But considering the late autumn river winds were already chilly, and that people in extreme panic tended to have their blood rush toward their legs in preparation for flight — causing a drop in body temperature — this coldness was a physiological response.
Besides, Lu Xingxing’s disheveled appearance and his wandering aimlessly in the dense fog for who knew how long made this body temperature seem within reason.
Thus, although Taoist Song Yi found it odd, the suspicion only flashed briefly through his mind and he didn’t pursue it.
“What happened to you to end up like this? What exactly happened?”
Taoist Song Yi asked, “Did you see any of the other members of the production team when you arrived?”
At the mention of this, Lu Xingxing seemed to recall something terrifying. His eyes widened in fear as he trembled and said, “I-I saw them.”
Before Taoist Song Yi could even breathe a sigh of relief, Lu Xingxing, his voice breaking with sobs, continued, “They’re all dead, Master. They-they’re all dead.”
Taoist Song Yi’s eyes instantly narrowed. “What!”
The official in charge nearby also immediately looked up, staring over in shock.
Although they had lost contact with the outside world after entering the concession area, before they went in, the people on the live broadcast had all been alive and well. How could it be that within just a few hours, they were all dead?
Moreover, Yan Shixun had been with them. How could something like this happen with him there?
Yet Lu Xingxing’s fear and grief didn’t seem fake. Even while talking about it, he trembled uncontrollably, as if he had been scared out of his mind.
From Lu Xingxing’s broken and fragmented account, the two finally pieced together what had happened.
After Lu Xingxing had regained consciousness, he had been trying to find the others. But as he went along, he not only found members of the production team — he also “found” many ghosts. Humans and ghosts were mixed together, making it impossible to tell who was real and who wasn’t.
His strength wasn’t high; he had no ability to discern between human and ghost. At the same time, he worried about accidentally hurting a real companion, so he hesitated and dared not act rashly.
Because of that hesitation, it had ultimately led to disaster. Under the onslaught of ghosts, the members of the production team were hunted down and killed one after another.
“I’m sorry, Master, I’m so sorry.”
Lu Xingxing cried until his face was covered in tears, guilt heavy in his expression. “I—I hurt someone at the beginning, so after that, I didn’t dare to make a move anymore. I hesitated and hesitated, and in the end, I couldn’t save anyone.”
Taoist Song Yi listened in heavy silence. Although he had a stomach full of words ready to scold Lu Xingxing, the sheer weight of this tragic reality pressed down on his heart, making it hard to even speak.
Moreover…
“Where’s Junior Brother Yan?”
Taoist Song Yi asked sharply. “Unlike you, Junior Brother Yan is someone who, once he sees the truth, acts decisively. With him around, something like this shouldn’t have happened.”
Lu Xingxing shook his head. “I didn’t run into him. Along the way, I only met a few members of the production team. There were a lot of people I never saw at all.”
This answer reignited a sliver of hope in Taoist Song Yi and the official.
They exchanged a glance, understanding what the other was thinking.
Because of that strange camera feed, the live broadcast hadn’t been consistently following any one person. Instead, it had been switching back and forth between Yan Shixun and Jing Estate. So, outside of Jing Estate, the audience watching the stream hadn’t been able to see what was happening elsewhere.
Thus, it made sense that Lu Xingxing and the others hadn’t been captured on camera.
And Lu Xingxing himself didn’t even know about the live broadcast, nor that Yan Shixun and the others were at Jing Estate. He had only seen people outside of it.
Perhaps… there was still a sliver of hope left.
At the very least, those inside Jing Estate, under Yan Shixun’s protection, should still be safe.
Taoist Song Yi immediately made a decision. “Take me to see the bodies first, and then we’ll go to Jing Estate.”
Lu Xingxing’s eyes flickered slightly.
The official frowned, an instinct warning him that something felt off.
But the heavy fog blurred Lu Xingxing’s expression, and soon, Lu Xingxing simply nodded and said he would lead the way.
The official stared at him for a long moment but couldn’t find anything else wrong.
Was he just being paranoid?
He shook his head in self-mockery and followed along.
Just as Lu Xingxing had said, under the dim, yellow streetlights, the main avenue was strewn with blood and torn flesh. It was clear that a brutal chase and battle had taken place here.
An Nanyuan, Song Ci, Li Xuetang…
All of their bodies lay sprawled on the ground, their limbs and heads twisted at unnatural angles, the coldness of death already set into their features. None of them had died peacefully.
Taoist Song Yi’s steps grew heavier. As he surveyed the scene, he realized that not only humans had died; the corpses of slain ghosts, with severed limbs and lingering souls, were also scattered about.
On the building beside them hung a sign that read “Binhai Daily.”
An Nanyuan’s body lay sprawled as if he had been chased out of the newspaper office, only to be caught by the malicious ghosts just steps away from freedom. He had died right there on the stairs.
He had been just one step away from escaping.
Every single death was so horrifying that it was hard to look a second time.
Taoist Song Yi’s heart grew heavy. He slowly crouched down, raising his hand to gently close the eyes of each person. Then, he took off his Taoist robe and used it to cover the bodies, offering them the last shred of dignity he could.
Afterward, he sat there dazed, staring blankly at his surroundings, a deep sense of unreality sinking into him.
How could this have happened… How could they all be dead?
Wasn’t Junior Brother Yan supposed to be a miracle born of Heaven and Earth? So why had the people around him died so easily?
…Why had no one come to save them?
At that moment, a deep sorrow welled up inside Taoist Song Yi. He didn’t know whether to blame Lu Xingxing, or to blame Yan Shixun.
But perhaps, most of all, he should blame himself.
If he had arrived just a little earlier, even a little sooner, would he have been able to save them?
The official walked over heavily, helping Taoist Song Yi to his feet. “Come on, let’s go to Jing Estate.”
“The dead are gone, but there are still survivors. We still have time to save them.”
Taoist Song Yi, lost in a daze, nodded slightly. Leaning on each other for support, he and the official led Lu Xingxing through the dense fog, groping their way toward Jing Estate.
However, the moment Taoist Song Yi pushed open the gates of the Jing Estate, his heart sank completely into icy waters.
Inside the grand hall, corpses lay scattered everywhere, their eyes wide open in death, unable to find peace.
The walls, the ceiling, the carpet… blood and flesh were splattered across every surface. Blood even trickled down from the crystal chandelier in the living room, dripping slowly into the growing pool below, making faint splashing sounds.
Zhang Wubing, Zhao Zhen, Yan Shixun…
Everyone, every single one of them, stared lifelessly at the newcomers with their unseeing eyes.
It was as if they were questioning—
Why didn’t you come to save us?
Why did you arrive so late?
It’s your fault, all your fault!
The official in charge felt his vision darken and staggered a few steps, barely able to keep himself standing.
But then, he suddenly realized something was pressing against his back.
His body stiffened. Slowly, he turned to look.
There he saw Lu Xingxing, who had been following them all along, slowly curling his lips into an eerie, twisted smile…
“You’re not Lu Xingxing—you’re an evil spirit!!”
But it was already too late.
…
When asked to dismantle the constructed world, Jing Xiaobao twisted about unwillingly, clearly reluctant.
“Without this medium, I won’t be able to see my mother anymore, or my little brother.”
He mumbled, his head hanging low.
Lin Ting’s eyes wavered, her face showing such sorrow it seemed she would break into tears.
This child had died too young; she hadn’t had the chance to teach him that all meetings must eventually end.
But Yan Shixun had no intention of indulging Jing Xiaobao.
He let out a cold laugh, tipping his chin at the boy. “Are you going to do it yourself, or do you want me to help?”
“Think carefully. I’m not exactly gentle. If you end up hurt, you’ll be the one feeling miserable.”
Too many people had entered the ghostly, constructed world. The chilling aura of death here was almost no different from the underworld itself.
The longer they stayed, the deeper the ghostly energy would seep into them. Even after returning to reality, many might fall gravely ill, or find their fortunes hitting rock bottom.
For Lin Ting’s sake, Yan Shixun was willing to allow a little time for the mother and her two children to talk. But he wouldn’t let Jing Xiaobao run wild.
He had been silently calculating in his mind the whole time, tracking exactly how long it had been since they awakened, determined not to let too much ghostly energy invade their bodies.
And now, the time had come—they had to leave.
Jing Xiaobao shrank his neck back, letting out a tiny “mm” of agreement.
Yan Shixun had repeatedly suppressed him, so that even though their shared nature as Evil Spirit Bone Transformation had initially drawn Jing Xiaobao to him, it also firmly planted fear of both Yan Shixun and Ye Li into his heart.
In front of Yan Shixun, he didn’t even dare to resist.
An Nanyuan, standing to the side, glanced at Lin Ting. He thought the situation seemed a bit inappropriate—threatening a child in front of his mother… Was Brother Yan not worried Lin Ting would go berserk?
But obviously, from the clues inside the Jing Estate and from historical records, Yan Shixun had already accurately deduced Lin Ting’s character. He knew she wouldn’t spoil Jing Xiaobao either.
Lin Ting gently patted Jing Xiaobao’s hair, her touch tender. “Being able to see you again even once, I am already content.a’
Beside her, Jing Sheng also smiled and nodded toward Yan Shixun. “Thank you, Mr. Yan, for giving us time to reunite.”
Yan Shixun nodded in return, then turned to Lin Ting and asked, “Mr. Lin Ting, with the merit you accumulated during your lifetime, the underworld should have reserved a spot for your reincarnation long ago. But why have you remained at the Jing Estate all these years without moving on?”
“Was there no envoy sent to escort you to the underworld?”
Lin Ting swept her gaze around the Jing Estate, her eyes full of reluctant attachment.
She shook her head with a bitter smile. “No,” she said.
“I always worried about Xiao Bao and Bai Shu. And I also worried about the country I dedicated my entire life to. I couldn’t put my mind at ease. I kept wondering if the country might still need me, if Bai Shu might come back and not find me.”
“I wanted to personally see our vast lands at peace, the people free from hunger, living safely and happily. I wanted to witness a time when the rivers ran clear and the seas were calm, when prosperity flourished and nations paid homage.”
“I wanted to know if our ideals had been realized, if the children who came after us were living good lives.”
Lin Ting smiled, tears glistening in her eyes. “I was too greedy. I kept hesitating, unable to leave. So, day after day, I stayed here at the Jing Estate, never departing.”
Inside the Jing Estate, no one spoke a word.
Only the ground and buildings trembled violently, with bricks and stones crashing down and sending out thunderous booms.
The ghostly world was collapsing, and the real world was about to return.
The sound of the ghost officials’ footsteps grew steadily closer, the crack of their guiding whips striking the ghostly path to intimidate the spirits, announcing that the underworld had come to escort a virtuous soul away.
The sharpness in Yan Shixun’s brows and eyes softened. He smiled and said to Lin Ting in a low voice, “Mr. Lin Ting, countless people have inherited your cause, your ideals still wave proudly like a great banner. The lives and sacrifices that were given have all been cherished and honored by those who came after.”
“Mr. Lin Ting, the mountains and rivers are now at peace, the world enjoys prosperity and tranquility… you can leave without worry.”
Lin Ting froze for a moment, then smiled and nodded. “Alright.”
“Goodbye… to the country I loved so dearly.”
“In my next life, I will still return to the cause I once fought for.”
“I will continue to guard the victories won by the countless comrades who struggled together.”
Yan Shixun bowed slightly, showing his respect to Lin Ting. “Having you was humanity’s blessing.”
“Sir, safe journey.”
A brilliant white light flared, making the dark night as bright as day.
The black mist that had shrouded the entire concession area also completely vanished once the white light faded.
When Yan Shixun slowly straightened up, the scene around them had already changed.
The Jing Estate from a hundred years ago was gone. All of them were now standing in Jing Bin’s former home.
Beside them, Old Master Jing stood leaning on his cane, his hair completely white.
His gaze was gentle yet dazed, as if he had just woken from a beautiful dream, his heart filled with warmth and happiness.
Old Master Jing looked at Yan Shixun, seemingly wanting to say something.
But before he could speak, tears streamed down his face.
His mother… had truly left.
He would never see her again.
Jing Xiaobao was also quietly sobbing.
Zhang Wubing and the others stood stunned for quite a while. Only when they looked down and saw that they were back in their own clothes instead of women’s clothing did they finally realize—
They had returned! They were back in the real-world concession area!
Everyone cheered excitedly, celebrating their return to the normal world.
Even Yan Shixun’s eyes were tinted with a hint of a smile.
But in the very next moment, he immediately sensed that something was off, and his brows furrowed in alertness once again.
Yan Shixun’s gaze swiftly swept over their surroundings, and only when it landed on the fireplace did his eyes pause.
Seeing Yan Shixun’s expression turn serious, the others also looked toward the fireplace in confusion.
And then they saw—stuffed inside the fireplace were two people.
It was the unconscious official in charge and Taoist Song Yi!
Yan Shixun lowered his gaze and looked at Jing Xiaobao.
Jing Xiaobao shrank behind Old Master Jing.
QAQ S-Sorry.
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