Chapter 274: Ritual Money, Old Capital (1)
No one who stayed behind in Third Uncle Bai’s courtyard could have anticipated that after the earthquake, what followed would be the collapse of not only the courtyard, but the entire village.
The ground cracked inch by inch. From not far away, the waters of Baizhi Lake surged back in, flooding every bit of land with icy water. In the blink of an eye, the flood reached their feet.
Panic immediately set in. Everyone scrambled to move to higher ground to escape the rapidly rising lake water. But just as they were about to run upstairs, they heard a loud, dull crash from the nearby abandoned house. The already fragile building collapsed completely into the lake.
Stunned, they stared at the structure in disbelief, then nervously glanced at Third Uncle Bai’s house next to it. Someone gulped loudly—no one dared gamble with their lives again.
Worse still, it wasn’t just the flood and the quake. After the courtyard walls crumbled, they saw—just outside the yard—rows of silent wooden figurines standing still, their lifeless gazes fixed on them. No one knew how long those figures had been there.
Realizing that those statues had been watching them all along, even while they had been laughing and talking earlier, An Nanyuan felt the hair on his neck stand up. A shiver ran down his spine as he stared at them in growing fear.
They looked exactly like real people, yet not a trace of life radiated from them—only deathly stillness and emptiness.
Being stared at by such hollow eyes, An Nanyuan unconsciously stepped back. His mind began replaying every horror movie he had ever seen, making his skin crawl.
Noticing his reaction, the others followed his gaze in confusion—until they, too, spotted the wooden figures. Someone couldn’t help blurting out, “Holy shit!”
Lu Xingxing practically jumped out of his skin. He raised his hand to form a seal and prepare a spell, but Zhao Zhen quickly stopped him.
“Wait, Xingxing—did you see anything else?”
Zhao Zhen’s gaze shifted to the village outside the courtyard wall, his expression solemn. “I remember… wasn’t Brother Yan and his partner over there? But now…”
The courtyard of Zheng Shumu’s home had become nothing but wreckage, submerged in lake water. Only a few stones remained barely visible above the surface.
Wooden arms jutted out of the water, pointing toward the sky—then drooped weakly, as if drained of strength.
A half-buried skull peeked through the scattered bricks, its hollow black eye sockets submerged below the waterline, staring into nothing.
Zhao Zhen accidentally met the eye of that half-submerged skull and was struck by a chill so cold it made his hair stand on end.
“This doesn’t feel like a regular earthquake…”
Nan Tian murmured, dazed, “It’s more like… a world built of ghost energy collapsing.”
After the incident on Mount Nanming, Nan Tian’s bloodline as a shaman—something once deliberately buried—had slowly begun to awaken thanks to the secret manual gifted by the orphaned sisters of Nan Village.
Though Grandma Nan had sent him away from the village to avoid his foretold death, his mind had since activated a sort of self-defense mechanism that forced him to forget many things.
Still, he had spent his childhood at Grandma Nan’s side. Influenced by her presence and his innate bloodline, it was easy for him to pick everything back up.
Thanks to that, Nan Tian had learned many things from the manual—things he had never known before about an entirely different and mysterious realm.
Even Lu Xingxing couldn’t help but glance sideways at Nan Tian’s rapid progress, a deep sense of urgency growing in him.
“Ghost energy…”
Lu Xingxing repeated the words in a daze. Suddenly, a thought struck him—he recalled the shadow puppet museum and Brother Yan’s warning: that they were not in the real world, but inside a shadow play.
“Could it be… the shadow puppet play has been broken by Brother Yan? Does that mean we can leave now?!”
Lu Xingxing instantly lit up with excitement, rubbing his hands together impatiently.
Nan Tian gave a helpless smile but didn’t let his guard down.
“If we’re inside a shadow puppet play, that means someone must be behind all this, pulling the strings. Brother Yan and his partner must’ve gone to confront the mastermind. But think about it—if the enemy could create something this elaborate, they wouldn’t overlook us inside the play.”
Even surrounded by the eerie wooden figurines, Nan Tian stayed calm. With Yan Shixun gone, he made every effort to rely on himself—analyzing the situation and figuring out how they might survive.
“We’re basically Brother Yan’s weakness now. If the enemy gets hold of us, we become their hostages—a threat they can use against him.”
Nan Tian remained level-headed. “We may not be able to do much, but at the very least, we need to protect ourselves until Brother Yan comes back. We can’t cause him more trouble.”
Lu Xingxing scratched his head and looked at Nan Tian with a mix of horror and admiration. He was beginning to realize Nan Tian might just surpass him.
Was this what they meant by “the student surpassing the master”?
Lu Xingxing wanted to cry but couldn’t. Secretly, he clenched his fists with determination. When he returned to Haiyun Temple, he swore he would train even harder with his master uncle and Taoist teacher. No more skipping classes or daydreaming!
He was a proper Taoist of Haiyun Temple, after all. If he ended up falling behind a half-trained Nan Tian, wouldn’t that be humiliating?
What if, one day, even his master aunt started disliking him—choosing to trust Nan Tian instead?
Thinking that far, Lu Xingxing’s fighting spirit flared up like a wildfire.
The entire village was sinking into the lake, and the ground they stood on was quickly being swallowed by water. The water level kept rising until it reached their waists.
Lu Xingxing clasped his hands together in a seal, summoning the power Ye Li had lent him. He began chanting a ghost-expelling incantation.
If it had been real water, he truly wouldn’t have known how to protect everyone from this natural disaster. But once he confirmed that this place was a shadow play, Lu Xingxing realized that although every blade of grass and tree looked indistinguishable from reality, they were all formed from ghostly energy.
Given that, the lake water was also closely tied to that ghostly energy.
In fact, it was very likely made entirely from it.
That meant as long as he didn’t let the ghostly energy get near him, the lake water wouldn’t be able to flood or endanger them.
Lu Xingxing held onto that thought, and when the incantation took effect, the results confirmed his suspicion.
The lake quickly engulfed the entire village—except for the area they stood in.
The water around them rose higher and higher, to the point they had to look up at it.
It felt as if they were standing inside a dark bubble, submerged deep beneath the lake. When they looked up, all they could see was the underwater world above.
The wooden puppet figures that had surrounded them were swept away by the floodwaters and no longer had a chance to attack.
An Nanyuan stared wide-eyed, his hand trembling as he pointed at the cross-section of the lake beside them. His mouth opened and closed, unable to figure out what to say.
“Th-this…”
After a long moment, An Nanyuan finally forced out a sentence: “Xingxing, you’re amazing!”
Lu Xingxing proudly lifted his chin, looking like a husky being praised—gleeful and so full of pride he practically wagged his tail.
But before he could bask in the glory for long, everyone’s eyes were suddenly drawn to a bright glow not far away.
Flames were burning silently within the lake water.
The courtyard and remains of Zheng Shumu’s house had been completely consumed by the lake. Orange flames slowly expanded across the ruins until the entire area was swallowed up, yet the fire showed no signs of stopping. Instead, it spread quickly through the lake, as if the water itself were gasoline.
The icy blue lake shimmered with the flickering orange-red firelight.
It looked like a sun had fallen into the deep sea.
It was breathtakingly beautiful—and unimaginably dangerous. The sight sent chills down their spines.
For a while, everyone fell into stunned silence. No one spoke a word. They just stood there, dumbfounded by the eerie scene.
After a long pause, Lu Xingxing finally spoke, his voice trembling and choked with fear: “Isn’t that where my Brother Yan and Master Aunt went? What happened? Could… could something have happened to them?”
That one question captured what everyone was feeling. Song Ci in particular stared intently at the flames, his gaze fixed and unwavering with concern.
It wasn’t just Brother Yan who was over there—Xie Lin was, too… Xie Lin had to come back safely.
The young master’s heart was filled with anxiety and unease, his restlessness plainly visible.
His strange behavior quickly caught the attention of the others. With a glance exchanged, they all understood what was troubling him, and they let out silent sighs.
Anyone in the entertainment world knew exactly who stood behind Xie Lin—the Song family.
In an industry obsessed with staying relevant, Xie Lin had remained untouchable atop his pedestal for decades, and no one dared to speak ill of him.
Besides his own unparalleled musical talent and a world he had built that no one had yet surpassed, the protection from the Song family had played a crucial role.
The Song family’s young master had favored the man who had once created a golden age of music—the so-called “Song God.”
Some journalists had even interviewed the young master with ill intent, asking him whether investing in Xie Lin had been the worst business decision he ever made.
They had assumed the Song God would rise again, once more becoming a gold mine. No one expected him to fall into ruin, unable to recover, acting like a child and constantly calling out for his sister.
When the young master heard those words, he immediately flew into a rage.
That journalist’s company was soon acquired by the Song Group, and the reporter was never seen in the industry again.
But rumors still leaked from that interview.
Before storming off, the young master had sternly refuted the accusation.
“I was never investing. I just didn’t want a star to lose his shine.”
According to the rumors, he had also said: “In Xie Lin, I saw the possibility of reaching the next peak of music. I hoped he could return to the divine stage, but I would never force him—everyone has the right to waste their talent if they so choose. No matter how others may regret or grieve, that choice is still his to make.”
“He’s not a three-year-old child—he simply gave all his love to one person. He’s protecting his family, and I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
When Zhao Zhen heard that Xie Lin would be joining this shoot, he had asked some industry friends about him and Song Ci, and they had told him about the rumored incident.
Zhao Zhen hadn’t believed it at first.
After all, Song Ci had always been temperamental. Even his own older brother only ever got scolded—how could anyone possibly earn such affection from him?
But now, seeing Song Ci’s anxious expression, Zhao Zhen let out a quiet sigh.
He believed it.
Standing nearby, Nan Tian silently shook his head at Zhao Zhen and mouthed: “Don’t worry, Brother Yan is there.”
As long as Xie Lin didn’t have a death wish, with Brother Yan around, he would definitely be safe.
Nan Tian believed that wholeheartedly.
But the others soon had no energy left to worry about Xie Lin.
The flames, riding the current, quickly spread toward where they stood.
Lu Xingxing cried out in alarm and hurriedly tried to form seals with trembling hands, hoping to stop the fire.
But he was already weak from blood loss. As a living human, his energy was inherently incompatible with Ye Li’s. Even though he gritted his teeth and gave it his all, he couldn’t fully harness the power Ye Li had lent him.
Under such intense output of power, Lu Xingxing’s face quickly turned as pale as funeral paper, and his body swayed as if it would collapse at any moment.
Nan Tian watched Lu Xingxing’s back with concern. Both of his hands hovered on either side of Lu Xingxing’s body, terrified that he might fall right then and there.
Lu Xingxing’s weakness soon began to show in the weakening effect of the talismans.
Cracking sounds rang in everyone’s ears. They followed the sound and saw that the outer shell that had been enveloping them, protecting them from falling into the lake, had developed fine cracks.
Like a bubble under pressure, it was about to burst.
The spiderweb-like fissures continued to spread, causing everyone’s hearts to pound with fear.
An Nanyuan looked up at the cracks above, and the image of the lake water flooding down involuntarily appeared in his mind. He felt a growing sense of unease.
To make matters worse, as the power of the talismans diminished, the wooden puppet figures submerged in the lake, like sharks smelling blood, began to approach them, attracted by the scent, and started banging on the already fragile transparent barrier.
Black talisman markings flickered continuously on the invisible shield, but it was like a malfunctioning screen—flickering in and out, as though it might shut off completely at any moment.
Lu Xingxing understood the severity of the situation. He didn’t dare to relax for even a second. Even as his teeth bit deep into the flesh of his lips, causing blood to drip down from the corners of his mouth, and even as his complexion took on a ghastly greenish hue and his body temperature plummeted, he still didn’t stop.
He could clearly feel the power Ye Li had lent him competing with his own life force within his meridians. It was as if the closer he got to death, the more fully he could wield that power. Otherwise, he could only scratch the surface of its potential.
As long as I keep approaching death, I can… I can protect everyone…
Lu Xingxing clenched his teeth harder, using the pain to jolt his increasingly muddled mind back to clarity, desperately trying to hold on.
But even though his mind remained sharp, his body no longer obeyed him.
His body quickly reached its limit, and waves of blackness clouded his vision.
Lu Xingxing felt as if he had chugged an entire bottle of white wine in one breath—his world spun wildly before him, alternating between light and dark, unable to find any point of stability.
Darkness finally engulfed him.
Lu Xingxing could no longer hold on. That taut string finally snapped.
He collapsed backward, the hand sign he had been forming unraveling as he crumpled to the ground like a lifeless ragdoll.
Everyone cried out in alarm, instinctively reaching out to catch Lu Xingxing’s falling body.
At the same moment, the protective transparent shell around them shattered.
Icy lake water surged in from all directions, pressing forward in a rush. Rotting corpses drifting in the water extended their hands, trying to grab the group.
Nan Tian, who had been watching Lu Xingxing all along, rushed forward in a flash. With lightning-fast reflexes, he caught Lu Xingxing’s limp body in his arms.
The moment he touched Lu Xingxing’s skin, Nan Tian’s heart jolted. It was far too cold—he felt like he was touching a corpse.
He quickly looked down at the person in his arms and found Lu Xingxing’s face tinged with a dark, greenish-black hue. He looked completely drained of life, as if his body had already been consumed by ghostly energy.
There was no time to think. Nan Tian was entirely focused on Lu Xingxing, unable to respond to anything else.
As the lake water came crashing down, the only thing he could do was instinctively lower his head, shielding Lu Xingxing tightly in his embrace, unwilling to let the already critically weakened Lu Xingxing be exposed to more ghostly energy.
Nan Tian shut his eyes tightly, already anticipating what was about to happen.
But the expected coldness and suffocating drowning never came.
Apart from the sound of talismans shattering like glass, there was nothing else.
Puzzled, Nan Tian cautiously opened his eyes and looked around him.
What he saw left him stunned—everything had frozen in place.
The fragments of the shattered talismans still floated in mid-air, scattered but suspended. The lake water that had been surging behind the broken talismans remained in the form of suspended splashes, frozen at the moment the talismans broke. It hadn’t rushed in as expected.
Time and space had both halted in that instant.
What… what was going on?
Holding Lu Xingxing’s icy, corpse-like body, Nan Tian stared blankly ahead and realized he wasn’t the only one stunned.
Everyone else wore the same shocked expression, their eyes all focused in one direction, astonishment plain on their faces.
Nan Tian followed their gaze.
There stood Zhang Wubing.
No—
That wasn’t Zhang Wubing.
The young man stood tall and upright. His old-fashioned long robe fluttered slightly in the wind stirred by power, embroidered with ferocious beasts and evil spirits that bared their fangs and claws, terrifying in their lifelike detail. With the robe’s slight movement, they looked as if they might come roaring to life at any moment.
His sleeves were gathered neatly. Long lashes drooped slightly, his eyes half-lidded—like a breeze disturbing a still lake, cold mist rippling in the shimmer of water, hiding his true emotions from view.
Fog swirled around him, and there was a faint, serene smile at the corner of his lips. It resembled the condescending mercy of a ghostly deity, but on closer look, it held nothing but pure coldness.
Everyone looking at him instinctively held their breath.
It was the same face as Zhang Wubing’s, but no one could believe it. The normally cheerful, soft Zhang Wubing, without his usual smile, held such a chilling and awe-inspiring presence. His handsome face had turned icy and unapproachable, making no one dare come closer.
An invisible force seemed to suppress the very air, and everyone barely dared to breathe, afraid of disturbing the youth.
Then the youth’s ears twitched slightly, as if he heard something. He raised his eyes with a half-smile. The line of his jaw was sharp and refined, carrying the dignity and nobility of centuries of history.
His gaze passed over the crowd, directly meeting the cold, ghostly-blue lake behind them.
The next moment, the flames devoured the Zheng family’s house, reducing it to ashes, then immediately extinguished. The lake water erupted outward like an explosion.
Waves surged to the sky with overwhelming momentum, like a tsunami.
From within the fire, two tall figures leapt out together, bursting through the surface of the lake, hand in hand.
Then, in the blink of an eye, the lake vanished. The water retreated as if it had never existed. Everyone found themselves standing back on solid ground, like the tide had come and gone.
Combat boots planted firmly on the earth, Yan Shixun hadn’t even had time to catch his breath when he suddenly heard a voice from behind him.
“Yan Shixun.”
A magnetic voice, laced with a low laugh. The simple syllables rolled off the speaker’s tongue like a mellow wine aged for centuries.
Yan Shixun froze, confusion welling up inside.
No one in the production crew would call him by his full name… right? And this voice—why did it sound like Zhang Wubing?
Had that little idiot finally gone insane?
Puzzled, Yan Shixun turned around and followed the voice.
But when he saw the figure standing not far away, his eyes widened slightly.
It was indeed Zhang Wubing who had called his name.
But it wasn’t Zhang Wubing.
It was… something else inside Zhang Wubing.
That figure stood there calmly, sleeves folded, as composed as if he had all the time in the world—but the air around him was like a ghost town sealed off from the world.
His refined features carried not a trace of shadow, as pure as mountain mist. Yet anyone who looked at him could tell—
Behind him lay a heavy, mysterious, ancient history.
Yan Shixun’s sharp gaze darkened instantly.
“Get out of Zhang Wubing’s body.”
He gritted his teeth and enunciated each word: “You nameless thing.”
Zhang Wubing didn’t get angry. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and smiled.
His hand slowly emerged from his sleeve, folding fan pressed lightly against his lips as he spoke softly, “I am Zhang Wubing.”
“I always have been.”
If you love what Ciacia is doing, then consider showing your support by supporting a cup of tea for her at Kofi. If you can’t wait for the next release chapter, subscribe to advanced chapters membership on her Kofi to get access to up to 10 chapters!
