Chapter 252: Shadow Puppets and Lamplight (18)
Yan Shixun gripped Zhang Wubing in one hand and Xie Lin in the other, as if he were carrying two sacks. Despite the weight of two fully grown men, they felt practically weightless in his grasp.
Zhang Wubing had nearly drowned and been soaked in the icy lake water. Now, his entire body was limp and powerless, relying completely on Yan Shixun to keep him upright and moving forward.
Xie Lin wasn’t doing much better. He was still lost in the moment of just having seen his younger sister. His mind hadn’t fully returned, and he was acting purely on instinct—whatever others told him to do, he did, his face blank and wooden.
Seeing the condition of the two men and then glancing at the villagers walking out of the village, Yan Shixun felt a wave of frustration coming on.
Though it had only been a few seconds earlier, he had caught a glimpse—thanks to the lamplight spilling out from the windows—of the faces of the villagers at the front.
They were the same proud shadow puppet masters from the posters.
Also the same corpses floating in the lake and the terrified shadow puppeteers who had died in the theater.
The recurring images of the village, the familiar faces, and the shadow puppet show they had watched on the TV—these scattered fragments slowly pieced together in Yan Shixun’s mind, forming a complete picture that helped him sort out the entire event.
The problem wasn’t with the shadow puppet museum—it was with the shadow puppets themselves.
Zhang Wubing had even said that he thought he had turned off the DVD player.
Now, it appeared Zhang Wubing’s memory hadn’t failed him.
When Yan Shixun had gone with him to shut off the DVD player, the crisis had already silently begun. The woman being attacked by the villagers in the puppet show had dragged them into that very show.
That was why they couldn’t escape the third courtyard. Even the heavens and earth had been sealed off, making divination and talismans useless.
Because they were no longer in the real world—they were inside the shadow puppet play.
They couldn’t run beyond the third courtyard because that was the entirety of the stage’s set. Outside of that, there was nothing.
That also explained why, when they first entered the theater and tried to leave through the front doors, they had fallen into a long, endless abyss.
They had entered the spiritual depths of the vengeful soul who controlled the shadow puppets, and through that, had been granted a glimpse of the truth.
Yan Shixun now suspected that he and Zhang Wubing were no longer human—they had become shadow puppets.
Their identities had been swapped with those of the puppets, and even heaven, earth, and ghost deities had been fooled, unable to detect anything wrong.
Everything that had happened so far only reinforced this conclusion: they were now inside the very shadow puppet play they had seen on the television.
But the woman who had once begged the villagers for mercy had now become the one in control, while all the villagers had turned into manipulated puppets.
Only he and Zhang Wubing could still move on their own, still think and feel freely.
Yet Yan Shixun couldn’t be sure what would happen if this continued—would they eventually become like the villagers, losing all sense of self, controlled and trapped within the puppet world?
As for those villagers…
Yan Shixun lifted his gaze toward them.
They had begun to move, no longer standing frozen as before. It was as if they had just received orders—they were swinging their farm tools and rapidly charging in their direction.
The villagers who once chased the woman were now being controlled by that same woman, and had set their sights on them.
From the twisted, ferocious expressions on their faces, Yan Shixun suspected they weren’t just trying to catch them—they were trying to turn them fully into puppets, keeping them trapped in this world forever.
Logic told Yan Shixun they had to escape—return to the real world.
But the harsh truth was that there was no exit. Only endless darkness and a village that stretched on forever. No matter how far they ran, there was no end in sight.
They had become the fleeing woman from all those years ago. The images began to overlap.
The villagers were getting closer. The chance of escaping was growing slimmer by the second.
The woman had become more and more desperate. She was so exhausted that even crying felt impossible. The mountain wind stung the dried tear tracks on her face, and her body was so drained she could no longer feel her feet—but she didn’t dare stop running. She kept going purely out of inertia, like a machine.
As if as long as she kept moving, she might actually run out of the nightmare-like village.
No one had come to save her. Her thin shoulders trembled as she grit her teeth and pushed forward, but in the end, her legs gave out and she collapsed to the ground.
She raised her head. The night sky was starless and moonless—offering no light to guide her path.
Heavens above, why must I go through this? I didn’t do anything wrong! Why did those evil men kill my husband, steal our money, destroy my family—and yet they get to live their lives freely?
You’re blind, Heaven, blind—!
The woman’s blood-soaked cries of despair echoed painfully in Yan Shixun’s ears.
In that moment, he could feel it—he was that woman from decades ago. His chest burned with rage at the injustice of the world, and a desire to destroy everything welled up inside him.
But then, he snapped out of it.
He was not that helpless woman of the past.
No one had saved her.
But someone was waiting for him.
Yan Shixun saw a tall figure standing at the end of the road.
Ye Li was dressed in a long black robe, and even the darkness around him seemed to retreat in fear from the fury radiating off of him. His eyes pierced through the mountain mist and dim light, fixed unwaveringly on Yan Shixun, who was running toward him.
He was like an unshakable mountain—towering and immovable. Even if heaven and earth were to collapse, he could still hold up the sky and the land, shielding the world where the one he loved lived.
That was a divine favor even the heavens acknowledged—a ghost deity’s protection.
Once, he had watched the human world coldly, disillusioned, and declared it beyond salvation. But when he was drawn to the exorcist he loved, he stepped into the world once more.
Because the one he loved existed in the human world, saving lives, the ghost deity, too, stood beside the exorcist.
But everything hinged on one condition—
Do not harm his exorcist.
Now, the ghost deity was enraged.
Ye Li saw the villagers chasing after Yan Shixun and the malice and ghostly energy seeping from the village. The anger that had built inside him ever since Yan Shixun vanished from his side now erupted like a monstrous tidal wave.
A black mist rose behind Ye Li.
He took long strides, heading straight for Yan Shixun.
With each step he took, the ground beneath his feet collapsed an inch. A dark abyss opened up, and evil spirits crawled up the cliffs, climbing out of the prison that the Lord of Fengdu had just unsealed. Their cold, malicious eyes locked onto the villagers and the village.
The villagers who had been chasing Yan Shixun suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of being preyed upon.
It was as if they were nothing more than feeble rabbits, foolishly trying to hunt a predator, unaware that they had provoked something truly terrifying. Now, the wolves and tigers had been let loose from the cage, baring their fangs and staring directly at the back of the rabbits’ necks.
The villagers froze, the farming tools they had been swinging halted mid-air. Their running feet slowed, then stopped completely when they saw what lay ahead, and they stood rooted to the spot, too afraid to move forward.
Ye Li charged toward Yan Shixun in wide strides. Behind him, the illusion of heaven and earth shattered and collapsed with deafening roars—like a scene of utter annihilation.
And replacing that illusion was something never before shown to the world: the prison of Fengdu.
Towering peaks and endless mountain ranges stretched out, crimson blood forming a long river that slammed against the banks. Corpses and ghostly faces floated and churned in the current, while the sound of clanking chains echoed without end.
Mountains and rivers alike were overrun with vicious spirits. They had committed unforgivable crimes in life and were repaying their sins in death within Fengdu.
Everywhere one looked was engulfed in blood and darkness.
For centuries, these ghosts had been imprisoned here, their sins so deep they suffered endless torment. Day and night, they cried until they bled, their screams and wails never ceasing. The ghost wardens were savage and ruthless.
The abyss beneath Ye Li’s feet erupted with shrieks of ecstatic joy from the ghosts. Skeletal claws clawed at the crumbling ground, dragging themselves up with gleaming, eager eyes, locking onto the villagers.
Then, the truly ferocious evil spirits grinned wickedly. The once-aggressive villagers now trembled in fear.
They dropped the farming tools they had turned into makeshift weapons, spun around, and ran with everything they had—racing toward the village and the lake as if they could find some safety there.
But compared to villagers who had been hated and killed by a woman, the ghosts imprisoned in Fengdu were the real monsters.
Among them were murderers who had slaughtered entire cities, others who had killed hundreds or thousands. Each of their souls was tangled with the weight of their crimes.
Now, the ghosts howled in delight, cherishing this rare opportunity to leave the prison of Fengdu. They charged at the villagers, toying with them like cats with mice, laughing maniacally at the villagers’ terrified faces.
There was always a risk in becoming an evil ghost—
There would always be something worse than an evil ghost. In the depths of darkness, there were deeper hells. Even above the underworld, there was Fengdu.
And when evil spirits angered the Lord of Fengdu, who stood above all ghosts…
The ghosts—thinking themselves terrifying—finally saw what true hell looked like.
They whimpered and sobbed in regret. But it was too late. Along with the village and the lake, they were surrounded and overwhelmed by the ghosts, who ruthlessly tore through the villagers’ homes and the sinful souls within them.
The fierce ghosts laughed eerily and, in tones filled with fake pity, asked the villagers under their claws, how did you ever find the courage to provoke the lover of that ghost deity? See now—this is your retribution.
The villagers tried to crawl toward the lake, but the vengeful spirit stomped down and crushed one of their skulls.
Beneath the surface of the water, the corpses were also dragged up by the ghost. It swung them in its hands, grinning as it played with them like toys.
The once grand theater in the center of the lake had collapsed into ruins. The surrounding village and the lake were left in total devastation. The eerie, mysterious aura from before was gone, replaced only by wreckage left in the wake of a storm of rage.
Inside the theater, the female puppet that had once sat upright on stage had vanished without a trace.
But now, no one noticed her disappearance.
Zhang Wubing and Xie Lin were both stunned by the scene unfolding before them. The wailing of ghosts from Fengdu’s prison made Zhang Wubing tremble uncontrollably, his eyes welling up with tears. Still, he could more or less guess that the person with Brother Yan had come to save them.
But for Xie Lin—who had only recently joined the show—none of this was familiar. The moment he saw Ye Li, he instantly forgot who he was, unable to recall his presence at all.
All he saw was a tall man walking toward them, cloaked in darkness and howling winds, surrounded by savage ghosts. Xie Lin assumed the spirits had come to kill them. He gave a bitter smile, thinking he was surely going to die here.
But in the next moment, their eyes widened, and they both froze in place.
Yan Shixun stood where he was without dodging or retreating. As he looked at Ye Li walking toward him, his lips curled unconsciously into a faint smile. The sharpness in his features softened.
After Li Chengyun died and before he met Ye Li, Yan Shixun had never experienced walking side by side with anyone. He never expected anyone would ever come to save him.
When it rained, he held the umbrella himself. When ghosts appeared, he fought them alone. When wounded, he bandaged himself in silence.
But Ye Li had given him something new: hope—and a trust that had never once let him down.
Ye Li once told him: Call my name, and I will come.
Yan Shixun hadn’t taken it to heart, but Ye Li had always treated it seriously.
Now, as Ye Li appeared in the middle of a deadly crisis, shattering this illusory world by sheer force, Yan Shixun suddenly felt a calm settle in his chest.
To have someone like this—didn’t seem so bad.
Whether as a companion, a partner, or… something more.
Yan Shixun smiled as he watched Ye Li approach. Before he could say a word, Ye Li reached out with his long arms and pulled him forcefully into a tight embrace.
It was a solid, unshakable embrace. Ye Li’s broad chest was strong enough to shield against any storm.
And it was a hug full of desperate strength.
Ye Li held Yan Shixun tightly, his slender fingers gripping so hard his knuckles turned white, as if holding onto a lost and recovered treasure—one he wanted to carve into his very soul, to hide deep within his heart, so no one could ever take it away or harm it.
Yan Shixun was pulled hard into Ye Li’s arms, his chin resting on Ye Li’s shoulder. Right in front of his eyes was the side of Ye Li’s neck, where the veins stood out, bulging with tension and fury.
He paused, then gave a small, quiet laugh, and didn’t reject the embrace.
Ye Li lowered his head slightly, rubbing his cheek against Yan Shixun’s hair. His pale lips trembled as he planted soft, fragmented kisses into his hair, feeling the warmth and heartbeat of the person in his arms—reassuring himself that this person was truly here, unharmed and safe.
Ye Li couldn’t describe how he felt when he realized the force that had tried to stop him from finding Yan Shixun had come from his own self a thousand years ago. The fury and fear he felt then were overwhelming.
He was afraid—afraid that Yan Shixun would get hurt, afraid he would lose him.
Even more terrifying… was the thought that his own power might have caused it all.
Thankfully, he had made it in time. The situation hadn’t spiraled into irreversible horror. There was still time to protect the exorcist he held so dear.
“Don’t worry, I’m not hurt.”
Yan Shixun smiled and said, “You got here just in time. I…”
Before he could finish speaking, he noticed Ye Li had slightly loosened his grip and pulled back a little.
Ye Li looked down at Yan Shixun, then gently lowered his head, moving closer to his cheek.
With devotion and love, in the aftermath of losing and finding again, amid lingering fury and relief, he placed a kiss on Yan Shixun’s forehead.
The cool kiss trailed downward, like a soft, refreshing morning breeze.
Yan Shixun froze, his hand halfway toward Ye Li’s arm but never pushing him away. It simply hovered in the air.
Finally, with a hesitant motion, he gently wrapped his arms around Ye Li’s waist.
Amid the shrieking of ghosts and the weeping of villagers, Fengdu crushed the false realm and returned to the human world. Ghosts danced wildly, rivers of blood flowed, turning the night sky crimson.
And yet, the Lord of Fengdu and the exorcist of the mortal realm no longer spared a glance for the ghosts.
In their eyes, there was only each other—so close, within arm’s reach.
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