Chapter 307: Ritual Money, Old Capital (34)
In the midst of an intense battle that had everyone holding their breath, such an unexpected development was something no one had anticipated.
At first, the official in charge had only vaguely seen a humanoid figure streaking through the air, but he hadn’t grasped what it was. He had simply wondered how a ghost devoured by the giant beast could possibly leave behind an intact body.
But very quickly, Li Chengyun’s startled shout drew everyone’s attention.
“Senior Brother!”
The Taoist took several beats to process who Li Chengyun was calling out to.
—Li Chengyun belonged to the highest-ranking generation among all the current Taoists of Haiyun Temple. Even many of the most revered elders respectfully addressed him as “Marster Uncle.”
He was the last disciple personally accepted by Haiyun Temple’s old abbot—the youngest among them.
And the only senior brother he had left alive…
Was precisely Taoist Li of Haiyun Temple.
He was regarded as the backbone and pillar not just by all the Taoists, but also by the special government departments.
As long as Taoist Li remained, the Taoists would never lose hope or lose their way.
He served as a beacon of the Great Dao for all cultivators. His presence united practitioners of all sects and philosophies to resist evil forces, setting aside past grievances and affiliations.
When he raised his voice, all directions would answer.
But now, this very Taoist Li…
Everyone present subconsciously looked up, their expressions stunned by Li Chengyun’s outcry.
Even Ye Li furrowed his brows and looked toward the sky.
He understood how important Yan Shixun was to Li Chengyun, and he also knew that even though Yan Shixun hadn’t officially returned to Haiyun Temple or used its name for status, he had acknowledged and accepted the Temple.
Especially this Taoist Li—his presence alone had been enough to silence all opposition and shield Yan Shixun from harm. No one dared criticize Yan Shixun because of him.
Even though Ye Li seldom paid attention to worldly affairs, he certainly knew of Taoist Li.
And now, the figure falling from the sky—hair and beard completely white, eyes tightly shut—who else could it be but Taoist Li?
Yan Shixun, too, instinctively lowered his gaze when he heard Li Chengyun’s voice. The moment he saw the falling figure, his heart jolted.
It really was Taoist Li!
But… why was Taoist Li here? And how had he been swallowed by the giant beast without anyone noticing?
Yan Shixun frowned slightly. His thoughts raced before he quickly made a decision: to temporarily abandon his assault on the giant beast and prioritize rescuing Taoist Li.
No matter the reason behind Taoist Li’s appearance here, in his current unconscious state, if no one caught him in time, he would inevitably perish, body and soul shattered.
Yan Shixun knew this was a deliberate trick by the old Fengdu—just like how it used countless human lives as hostages to threaten him.
But knowing it was a trap and choosing not to act were two different matters.
Even if it was clearly a ploy, because it involved Taoist Li, he had to act.
With that thought, Yan Shixun had already adjusted his posture, preparing to dive downward and catch Taoist Li midair.
But just then, Li Chengyun’s voice rose from below.
“Xiao Xun, we don’t need you here. Do what you must!”
After his initial shock, Li Chengyun had quickly calmed down, a plan forming rapidly in his mind. “Leave Senior Brother to me—just pretend you didn’t see anything.”
From a distance, Yan Shixun met Li Chengyun’s gaze and understood his master’s intentions.
Though his heart was heavy, he could only sigh silently and nod solemnly at Li Chengyun. Then, he refocused on the giant beast, ready to strike while its strength was waning and finish it off—specifically, to destroy its remaining two massive eyes.
Meanwhile, Li Chengyun swiftly formed a series of hand seals, reciting incantations that called upon divine powers in all directions. Ye Li responded to the summoning, and a continuous stream of power surged toward him.
Li Chengyun cast a quick glance at Ye Li, and his eyes revealed a glimmer of gratitude at their unspoken coordination. Then, his expression turned serious. With a firm stomp on the black misty ghost aura beneath his feet, he shot upward.
Treading atop the array, he rose into the clouds as if walking on air. In just a few breaths, he had closed in on the plummeting Taoist Li. Spreading his arms, he prepared to catch him.
At that very moment, Taoist Li seemed to sense his peril and slowly awoke from unconsciousness.
When he opened his eyes, he saw a vicious beast and a sky dyed in ominous black and red—clearly, he was no longer in the desolate village.
In his ears was the howling of wind, and faintly, he could hear a somewhat familiar voice calling out in alarm, seemingly worried about him.
Doubt surfaced in Taoist Li’s mind. Where was he?
He remembered clearly that he had died in that village.
When he had chosen to use his body and blood—enlightened by the Great Dao—as a conduit to plead for help on behalf of all living beings, he had fully accepted death.
He had not hesitated in the slightest.
And the ending had been just as he expected.
Taoist Li had no regrets—he had faced death with clarity and composure.
What he hadn’t expected was what came after.
Based on what he knew about the southwest region, the spirits of the dead should linger in that land. Even in an era dominated by the Ghost Dao, the worst outcome should have been his soul dispersing.
He had closed his eyes with a smile.
But very soon, he realized something was wrong.
His consciousness had sunk into a deep, pitch-black abyss.
Everywhere were grotesque, vicious spirits, endlessly howling their despair and hatred. Their voices overlapped into a maddening cacophony, threatening to shake his spiritual core.
It felt as though even he was being infected by their despair.
He wandered in that darkness for a long time, finding no trace of light. It was as though this place had been forsaken by both gods and ghosts—no matter how loudly souls screamed for help, there was never any answer.
The unknown darkness instilled fear, which grew into unease, and then accumulated until it became overwhelming terror and insanity.
Yet Taoist Li remained calm and rational. He even managed to focus part of his mind on identifying the sources of the voices around him and deciphering the whispers of those unclear, ghostly murmurs.
Eventually, he realized he had likely fallen into a prison for malevolent spirits.
This realization filled him with doubt. Based on his understanding, the southwest had always been a metaphysical no-man’s-land. Even when Fengdu still walked among mortals during his youth, there had been no sightings of ghost officials from Fengdu in the region.
The Yin officials of the underworld had plainly stated that the southwest was not under their jurisdiction.
In modern times, with the Great Dao crumbling and everything deteriorating, this was truer than ever.
Otherwise, exorcists in the southwest wouldn’t have continued destroying souls despite the heavy karmic consequences—resorting to wooden carvings with open mouths and eyes to force out spirits.
If it wasn’t Fengdu, and it wasn’t the underworld—then what was this place?
Before he could answer that question, a beam of light suddenly shone down from above.
It landed directly in front of him.
Startled, Taoist Li looked up and saw that a crack had appeared at the top of the abyss, quickly spreading. A dim light filtered down from the opening.
Though faint, it was enough to disperse the surrounding darkness, allowing Taoist Li to see clearly the grotesque, horrifying ghost faces around him.
…as well as a bloated and massive beast.
The first thing that caught Taoist Li’s eye was the beast’s enormous eye, composed entirely of white.
That pale, unfocused hollowness instilled instinctive fear in anyone it fixed its gaze upon. Those who were stared at couldn’t help but feel terrified, not knowing how to react or even flee.
But before Taoist Li could figure out what exactly this giant beast was, he realized that the “ground” beneath his feet was trembling.
When he looked down, he finally saw that what he had been standing on wasn’t solid ground at all.
—It was, unmistakably, the undulating body of the beast itself, covered with writhing ghost faces.
The next moment, the beast opened its massive maw, and a wave of putrid, bloody stench rushed toward him. The entire abyss, along with all the vengeful spirits within it, was swallowed by the beast in one gulp.
Taoist Li was caught in the current and lost consciousness.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself falling through midair. The lack of anything to hold onto created a terrifying sense of weightlessness that unsettled his very soul.
Yet Taoist Li calmly recalled his memories from before.
Then he saw, directly above him within his field of vision, a familiar face appearing atop the beast’s head, looking down.
Yan Shixun!
A jolt ran through Taoist Li’s heart.
Before he could fully emerge from the haze of death and make sense of why he was seeing Yan Shixun here, a voice carrying a faint, amused tone spoke from beside him.
“It’s been years, and it seems like you’ve aged faster than I expected, Senior Brother. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
That voice was gentle and warm, carrying a steady composure that wouldn’t waver even in the face of any crisis.
It made Taoist Li’s eyes gradually well up with tears.
“…Junior Brother.”
The moment he heard that “Senior Brother,” Taoist Li already knew who the person beside him was.
—It was the youngest, and also his favorite, junior brother whom he hadn’t seen in ten years.
What followed was a soft, warm force that gently supported Taoist Li’s body, enveloping him and quickly neutralizing the impact of his fall.
By the time Li Chengyun brought Taoist Li to the ground, he had landed safely and without harm.
His cloth shoes stepped firmly onto the ghostly ground forged from abyssal energy. Taoist Li quickly adjusted his posture and stood steadily beside Li Chengyun.
From a distance, the other Taoists and the official in charge, seeing this scene, collectively let out a breath of relief.
Just as one Taoist was about to smile, his expression was immediately interrupted by an unexpectedly loud voice.
“Gou Dan’er! I knew I’d see you again, hahaha. After all these years, you still look exactly the same as the last time we met! Honestly, if someone didn’t know better, they’d think you were dead.”
Taoist: “…………”
The official in charge choked on his own saliva, his face turning red as he quickly turned away and started coughing.
The spectators were all startled by Taoist Li’s completely unorthodox way of greeting, but the two people involved didn’t seem to mind at all—in fact, they looked quite happy.
Taoist Li grasped Li Chengyun’s shoulders with both hands, looking at his junior brother’s still youthful and elegant face, feeling a wave of comfort and pride.
Li Chengyun didn’t show much reaction to the long-forgotten nickname either; he still wore his usual cheerful and easy-going smile.
“But you’ve changed way too much, Senior Brother. In my memory, you were also a handsome young man. How did you go from that to having gray hair and a white beard? Too much temple business at Haiyun Temple? You look like you’re several hundred years old now. Have you been neglecting your internal cultivation?”
Li Chengyun grinned, his tone nostalgic, but subtly raised his voice as he said, “I still prefer calling you ‘Second Pillar Brother’ like I used to. I remember when you got greedy and stole the freshly cooked flatbreads, you burned your mouth but still wouldn’t let go. Then Master chased you all over the mountain, and you cried out as he caught you and spanked your butt. I remember it so clearly.”
Thanks to Li Chengyun’s deliberate amplification of his clear and soothing voice, the entire battlefield could hear him loud and clear.
The moment he finished speaking, the entire place fell silent.
Everyone: “…………”
No one dared speak first to break the awkward atmosphere.
Even the underworld soldiers from Fengdu subtly glanced over with surprise, astonished that such a respected exorcist had such an embarrassing past.
Ye Li even raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the unexpected anecdote, and couldn’t help but laugh, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
He suddenly thought of Yan Shixun.
Back at the little courtyard in Binhai City, when Jing Xiaobao couldn’t memorize his books, he’d cry and run while Yan Shixun chased him around to spank him. It was exactly the same as the scene Li Chengyun just described.
Apparently, butt-spanking was a tradition passed down from master to disciple…
Taoist Li’s master spanked him, then Taoist Li spanked Taoist Song Yi, then Taoist Song Yi spanked Lu Xingxing… oh, and Yan Shixun also spanked Lu Xingxing.
Looking at it that way, it seemed like Li Chengyun was the only one without that habit.
No—more accurately, it was because their Shixun was simply too exceptional and never did anything to deserve a scolding.
Ye Li’s lips curved slightly in a proud smile, as though he took great pride in Yan Shixun.
But the official in charge and the others didn’t have Ye Li’s ability to hide their emotions so well.
Everyone stared blankly at Taoist Li, dumbfounded. None of them could have imagined that this highly respected elder had once been such a lively and mischievous youth.
Everyone: That contrast is way too strong…
Especially the younger Taoist, who had always regarded him with utmost reverence—hearing such an embarrassing story about him from his youth left them torn between wanting to laugh and trying to maintain decorum. They held it in with great effort, though a few muffled snickers of “pfft” still escaped.
Their faces turned red from holding it back—it looked truly painful.
As for the man at the center of the story, Taoist Li: “…………”
He stared in disbelief at the youthful, handsome face of his junior brother so close before him. It took a long time before he could finally swallow hard and find his voice again.
“Ahem… There’s really no need to bring up such ancient history, Junior Brother.”
Taoist Li forced a smile. “Come to think of it, that wasn’t even my fault. The auntie in charge of cooking back then was just too good—her flatbreads were the best under heaven. I was, uh, still growing back then. It was only natural to eat a few extra…”
Normally, when facing others, Taoist Li spoke with strength and authority. He could scold the abbot of Haiyun Temple without batting an eye. Even when faced with death, he remained calm and composed. Yet now, standing before Li Chengyun, he felt strangely short of breath.
Especially when Li Chengyun kept smiling like that.
Somehow, Taoist Li felt a bit guilty.
Even his voice grew quieter and quieter as he spoke.
But Li Chengyun, as if kindly and understanding, didn’t call him out. He simply nodded and agreed with a bright smile, “Right, right.”
Taoist Li: …Why do I feel like there’s something hidden in your tone, Gou Dan’er?
Li Chengyun, still smiling sweetly, explained thoughtfully, “When Second Pillar Brother snuck down the mountain to play skipping stones with the village kids, that must have been cultivation, not mischief. And he definitely wasn’t spanked by Master.”
“When Second Pillar Brother couldn’t memorize the scriptures and ran around the courtyard with Master chasing him—that must’ve been his way of helping Master stretch his legs and get some exercise.”
“Second Pillar Broth—”
“Alright, alright, that’s enough, Junior Brother.”
Taoist Li swiftly reached out to cover his mouth, cold sweat beading on his forehead as he quickly cut off any further stories from the past.
Li Chengyun shrugged with a helpless smile and obligingly fell silent, as if he were being considerate, looking like he couldn’t help but indulge his immature senior brother.
Watching them, others began to question which one of them was the senior and which the junior—who was really the more mature one?
Their strange yet harmonious interaction left everyone stunned and dazed, unable to recover for a long moment.
Because Li Chengyun had always loved traveling, making friends, and visiting sacred mountains and rivers, he declined to take over Haiyun Temple in his youth and rarely returned.
The last time he came back was long ago, when he had just found little Yan Shixun and briefly returned to Haiyun Temple to examine his fate.
So, most of the Taoists at Haiyun Temple had never seen Li Chengyun in person, let alone witnessed how he interacted with Taoist Li as fellow disciples.
As for the special department, they had only ever heard Taoist Li speak of Li Chengyun with pride and admiration, leaving them with only a vague impression.
This was the first time they saw the two brothers together.
And no one expected them to interact like this…
Seeing that Taoist Li took the initiative to back down, Li Chengyun didn’t press the issue further. Instead, he asked why Taoist Li had come to this place.
After the two quickly exchanged the information each had gathered, they both fell into an involuntary silence.
“Junior Brother, you…”
Taoist Li looked at Li Chengyun with a gaze full of complexity and sorrow. “Why didn’t you ask me for help back then? Why did you go to Baizhi Lake alone? Did you not trust me?”
Li Chengyun slowly shook his head and calmly responded, “Weren’t you the same, Senior Brother? Shouldered everything on your own—did you ever ask me?”
Whether it was Taoist Li or Li Chengyun, both of them had stood at the absolute pinnacle among exorcists of their time.
One, having gained insight into the heavens and earth, had foreseen a future soaked in blood and filled with the cries of the people—his body rapidly aged and he nearly died on the spot.
The other, having glimpsed the Great Dao, had resisted the collapse toward an inescapable death trap, turning the tide of fate, and buying Yan Shixun the time he needed to grow—only to perish beneath the weight of karmic consequence.
But to both of them, they would rather shoulder the heavy burdens themselves and leave the easy and beautiful future to others.
After exchanging a few accusations, the two quickly realized the underlying issue and fell into silence once more.
Li Chengyun let out a long sigh. He closed his eyes, concealing the deep sorrow within them.
The Great Dao followed nature, and cultivation pursued longevity.
For cultivators, the more profound their understanding of the Dao, the younger they appeared in appearance—hence the saying, “a child’s face with white hair.”
Only after learning how Taoist Li had been worried about the path of the underworld for many years and had glimpsed the mysteries of heaven and earth several times did Li Chengyun finally understand why, despite Taoist Li’s energetic spirit, he looked so aged.
Both senior and junior brothers were far from ordinary in temperament. After grieving the loss of one another, they quickly put their emotions aside and began calmly and rationally analyzing the current crisis brought on by the old Fengdu, trying to find a path of survival through the knowledge they each possessed.
Meanwhile, though the official in charge and the Taoists were devastated upon learning of Taoist Li’s death, they managed to calm themselves quickly because of the presence of both Taoist Li and Hermit Chengyun.
With Yan Shixun present, and the analytical assistance from Taoist Li and Hermit Chengyun, this lineup gave everyone the confidence that—even Ghost Dao…
Could be slain!
“The protective power over the southwest has already been fully unsealed. But if we were to kill Ghost Dao outright at this moment, though it would break the deadlock, there’s still another issue.”
Taoist Li contemplated aloud, “For the living beings of the southwest, once Fengdu takes over, it will indeed eliminate all malevolent spirits. However, the life force that Ghost Dao has already taken away won’t return immediately.”
“In other words, for a long time, everyone will remain in a state of low fortune and weak yang energy.”
Taoist Li turned to Li Chengyun with gravity in his voice: “Junior Brother, we can resolve this in a better way, and ensure a stable transition.”
Li Chengyun immediately understood what Taoist Li meant. His expression turned serious. “You mean, at the moment of the old Fengdu’s death, we must replenish the life force for all people of the southwest?”
Taoist Li nodded.
The two of them turned in perfect synchronicity and looked toward Ye Li, who was standing in the distance.
“Although I’ve met this lover of my junior nephew before, I never imagined that he would be the Lord of Fengdu.”
Taoist Li said calmly, giving Ye Li a slight bow, “Please forgive me.”
Ye Li’s brow twitched, and he quickly returned the bow.
“But—”
The beginning of Taoist Li’s next sentence actually set Ye Li at ease.
“Fengdu can only bring peace to the dead. It cannot yet replenish life in the mortal realm.”
Taoist Li smiled faintly. “However, should the Lord of Fengdu ever come to comprehend life itself, then perhaps—that is when he may truly replace the Great Dao.”
Ye Li chuckled lightly. “I have no interest in becoming the Dao. I’m just… Shixun’s lover, that’s all.”
Li Chengyun stroked his chin thoughtfully and asked Ye Li, “Have you ever told Xiao Xun this? I feel that if he knew you had the power to uphold the Dao but chose to give it up, he might think differently.”
That one line hit Ye Li’s weak spot, sending him into deep thought.
Li Chengyun smiled: I raised that child—how could I not understand him? And someone who loves him… you think I can’t figure out their weak points?
After a moment of silence, Ye Li solemnly nodded at Li Chengyun. “I understand.”
“Whether or not I ever replace the Dao, at the very least, today—I will replenish this life force and earn the qualification to become the Dao.”
Ye Li’s tone was calm, as though this decision was the simplest thing in the world.
But if the Great Dao could see what was happening within the old Fengdu now, it would probably weep.
—In order to reconnect Fengdu with the mortal world, the Great Dao had pleaded numerous times, only to be rejected again and again. Fengdu’s doors had remained tightly shut, showing not the slightest respect.
Yet now, with just a few words from Li Chengyun and the heavy weight that was Yan Shixun, Ye Li had completely changed his mind.
Once Ye Li gave his definitive answer, Li Chengyun smiled and nodded in acknowledgement. “Then from this day on, we’ll leave the mortal realm in the care of the Lord of Fengdu.”
“And now…”
Li Chengyun exchanged a look with Taoist Li, silently confirming their shared intention.
The two of them stood facing each other. At the same time, they lifted their long Taoist robes and sat cross-legged on the ground, their posture upright, their spirit unyielding.
Li Chengyun formed hand seals with both hands, chanting under his breath as he lowered his gaze to watch the power gradually gathering in his palms.
A gentle breeze stirred Taoist Li’s blood-soaked and blackened robe. He pointed to the ground with one hand, eyes blazing, as clear incantations flowed from his mouth, forming golden light in the air around him.
Golden lines swiftly spread across the ground surrounding both Li Chengyun and Taoist Li, outlining a mysterious, ancient formation.
Though they chanted different incantations, they were inside the same formation, and their completely different powers began to merge and cycle together.
The wind gradually picked up, turning into a roaring gale, howling in their ears.
Two contrasting auras circulated around them, separating and merging—black and white, death and life.
One yin, one yang. One death, one birth.
With Ye Li’s power as the foundation, the two strongest Taoists of the age sat together to maintain a formation that allowed yin and yang to circulate.
From death, vitality slowly emerged.
Everyone present held their breath, shocked by the display of skill that far exceeded their expectations.
The younger Taoist were utterly dumbfounded. Never had he imagined that the spells he once thought he understood could unleash such enormous power in the hands of true cultivators.
The Taoist hung his heads in shame, deeply feeling his past ignorance and narrow-mindedness. He had failed to truly grasp the workings of heaven and earth.
The rapidly forming yin-yang taiji pattern in the depths of hell drew the attention of Yan Shixun, who stood at a higher elevation.
Upon realizing what the two Taoists were doing, Yan Shixun immediately understood: they wanted to transform death into life, to steadily and powerfully lift all the falling souls.
With all worries cleared by the efforts of Li Chengyun and Taoist Li, Yan Shixun could finally let go of his concerns. No longer would he be restrained by thoughts of the countless lives in the southwest.
He stilled his breath, sank his consciousness, and allowed all ghostly energy in his meridians to gather. As it concentrated in his hands, the ghostly qi and yang qi within him fully merged and cycled, reaching an impossible state of perfect balance.
And at that moment, the opportunity Yan Shixun had been waiting for finally arrived.
The giant beast’s struggling and howling grew weaker and weaker. Its heavy breaths and increasing pauses made its exhaustion painfully obvious.
After Yan Shixun destroyed its source of power, the ghostly energy inside the beast rapidly spilled out and was all absorbed into Yan Shixun’s strength.
When the beast tried to draw power from outside, it was ruthlessly blocked by Ye Li, who confined it within the old Fengdu, refusing to let it harm a single life in the southwest to replenish itself. Simultaneously, the vicious ghosts imprisoned in the lowest level of hell were being swiftly purged by Fengdu’s hundred-thousand ghost soldiers.
Every source of strength the beast could rely on had been completely sealed off by the combined forces of Yan Shixun and Ye Li.
The lowest level of Old Fengdu, once sealed off to force Yan Shixun into utter despair with no way out, had instead been turned by him into a weapon. He used it to strike back fiercely at Old Fengdu, transforming what was once the most hopeless hell under Old Fengdu’s control into its burial ground.
As the massive beast weakened, Old Fengdu grew increasingly frantic, thrashing and trying desperately to break free in all directions to stay alive. Even with just a sliver of breath left, it still believed it could escape once more, hiding away in some unreachable corner, waiting quietly for the next chance to rebel against the Great Dao.
However, Yan Shixun would never give it such a chance.
To him, Old Fengdu’s current struggle was nothing more than a doomed beast’s last resistance.
When an enemy exposed its weakness before his very eyes… it had already sealed its fate. Death was the only outcome—utterly certain.
“A decayed thing that should’ve died a thousand years ago… why bother clinging to life? You only invite disgust.”
Yan Shixun sneered coldly, the corners of his lips curling. “But it seems you can’t bring yourself to let go. In that case, I’ll do you a favor.”
He tilted his head slightly back, looking down from above at the giant beast trampled underfoot. “Allow me to…”
As he spoke, the beast panted heavily.
And in Yan Shixun’s eyes, a fierce, cold light suddenly flashed.
Now!
He pushed off the beast’s shoulder with force, launching himself high into the air like an eagle spreading its wings.
His strong arm reached out to the side, his hand gradually closing around empty air—as if gripping an invisible longsword.
The longsword he had used earlier had been left behind, lodged in the beast’s giant eye. Now, Yan Shixun seemed unarmed, as though he held nothing capable of slaying the creature.
But in the next instant, the air around his palm began to tremble violently. A cyclone spiraled.
Life and death, yin and yang, spun in an endless cycle within his hand. Ghostly energy coalesced slowly in a swirling Taiji pattern.
A longsword suddenly appeared from thin air, taking shape within his grasp. His slender fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt.
Yan Shixun’s lips curved into a smile.
Then, he released the ghostly energy under his feet that had been holding him aloft and allowed himself to plummet downward.
His speed increased rapidly. Winds howled. Power gathered into the sword. The resulting storm swept up the dark red clouds across the sky, forming a terrifying tornado that connected heaven and earth in one unstoppable force.
Even Old Fengdu froze in place for a moment, stunned by Yan Shixun’s move.
It never imagined that Yan Shixun could wield both the power of life and death.
In this cycle, Old Fengdu had nowhere to escape. The beast beneath him was crushed under such immense pressure that it couldn’t even lift its head.
Yan Shixun’s smile widened further, unrestrained and exhilarated.
“—Die!”
The longsword held all of Yan Shixun’s strength. It carried thunder and lightning, screaming through the air with a deafening roar before it was driven straight into the beast’s giant eye—its symbol of death.
Like a bolt of lightning cleaving down from the sky, nothing could halt the sword’s swift and mighty force.
It plunged deep into the beast’s eye.
Yan Shixun knelt on the creature’s skull, his gaze lowering to the massive eye beneath his feet. He grinned and tilted his head slightly.
“So please, die quietly and completely. No need to come back again.”
His eyes held only contempt, as if Old Fengdu had never even been worth his attention. To him, the Ghost Dao was not qualified to sit across from him, not even worthy of speaking with him as an equal.
He was arrogant and wild, but beneath that arrogance lay a power strong enough to break through all evil—a sword that upheld absolute justice and gave him the confidence to defy all odds.
Behind him stood all the lives he had protected, all the souls he had saved.
Countless beings, both living and dead, had placed their trust in him, willing to hand over their hopes and strength.
At that moment, heaven, earth, the Great Dao, ghosts, deities, and all living things stood with him.
It was as if countless people and spirits reached out together, gripped that sword with him, and used it to kill the monstrous beast disturbing the mortal world—to sever the Ghost Dao with a single strike.
The Lord of Fengdu’s power continued to surround Yan Shixun, standing with him through every life-or-death crisis.
In that moment, even the Great Dao of heaven and earth fell silent.
All of Old Fengdu fell still in an instant.
No more howling winds. No more ghostly wails. Even the storm clouds and gusts of wind came to a halt. The air trembled, vibrating intensely—not just with fear, but with fury.
Everyone’s hearts leapt to their throats, anxiously waiting for the final outcome.
Yan Shixun lifted his lashes slightly, gazing far into the distance—toward Ye Li.
The two already knew the result of this battle.
After a long, dead silence, the beast, with blood flowing from its eye, finally lost all strength to struggle and slowly collapsed forward.
“Boom—!”
Devoid of death’s power, the beast’s bloated, massive body was cleaved in half. As it hit the ground, it burst apart into countless chunks of flesh.
Along with it came the release of every ghost it had devoured.
Ye Li and Yan Shixun coordinated perfectly. The moment the beast collapsed, Ye Li withdrew the ghost energy barrier in that area, allowing the meat and blood to fall entirely into the abyss below.
A rain of blood began to fall from the sky.
Ye Li lifted his gaze, watching Yan Shixun fall from midair.
He took a long stride forward. With a single step, he traversed the vast distance between them in the blink of an eye.
Ye Li stretched out his arms, ready to catch Yan Shixun.
Yan Shixun saw him too—Ye Li, standing tall at the edge of the abyss.
Amidst the cries of a thousand ghosts mourning their deaths, Ye Li became an undeniable presence in Yan Shixun’s eyes.
He smiled faintly.
The tension in his muscles slowly eased. Drained after pouring all his strength into defeating the beast, his guard dropped completely, and he fell straight toward Ye Li without resistance.
Yan Shixun believed—Ye Li would catch him.
—No matter how deep the abyss he was falling into.
Ye Li’s long, strong arms wrapped around Yan Shixun’s waist, pulling the exorcist he loved into a firm embrace.
At the same time, a thunderous explosion erupted from deep within the abyss.
The entire underworld shook violently.
Flames erupted from the depths, spreading rapidly in every direction.
And amid the roaring inferno, Ye Li and Yan Shixun held each other tightly.
Ye Li’s strong heartbeat reached Yan Shixun’s ears. Beside his cheek was Ye Li’s solid chest.
Those broad, powerful shoulders exuded a sense of safety and reliability.
Even if the sky fell and the earth crumbled, they could still hold up the world and return life to humankind.
Yan Shixun lowered his eyes slightly, then let out a soft laugh.
“Ye Li.”
He called gently.
A smile lit Ye Li’s eyes. His usually deep voice was now filled with tender affection. “I’m here.”
“As long as you need me, I will always be by your side, Shixun.”
“If you love this world… then I will come to love the mountains, rivers, and seas as well. For you, I’ll uphold the collapsing Dao.”
Ye Li’s grip on Yan Shixun’s arm gradually tightened. He lowered his head, until the distance between them was so small it might as well not have existed.
They saw clearly in each other’s eyes a deep, unwavering trust—and…
Love.
Their gazes locked. Warm and cool breaths mingled, weaving together until there was no telling them apart.
Time and again, he had left humanity with chances, only to be met each time with the cruel malice of the living. Disappointed, he lost all tenderness for the human world, left only with cold detachment and indifference.
Once, gods and ghosts had walked among men, hearts desolate and empty.
And the exorcist had always walked alone—standing guard in silence between yin and yang, like a lone wolf, never sharing joy or sorrow with another, never revealing his weaknesses or wounds, always watchful, always wary.
But now, at last, the two of them held each other in an embrace.
And so, every barrier of indifference and defense they’d built crumbled in an instant—utterly, irreparably.
The taste of that candied apple Ye Li had once been curious about—He finally knew it.
—From the lips and teeth of the one he loved.
In the flames, the two of them embraced and kissed.
Ciacia/N: Ye Li literally said “…for you ill uphold the collapsing Dao.” so tell me yall, why do you even give the bare minimum men a chance at all!!! So much nonsense!!!
PS: also the slowest burnt ive ever read and translated oml, we’re like 80% toward the end already and they just kissed……lol
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