Chapter 314: The Divine Tomb of the Underground Palace (1)
After realizing something was wrong with Lu Xingxing, Taoist Li had originally planned to rush to his location immediately.
But at that very moment, the ground shook violently.
Taoist Ma, already at the brink of exhaustion, nearly collapsed from the sudden tremor. Fortunately, another quick-eyed Taoist beside him grabbed him just in time, preventing further injury.
The production staff panicked. “Is this an earthquake?!”
Bai Shuang was just about to calm the people nearby, explaining that since they were in an open area, even if there was an earthquake, they wouldn’t get crushed. After all, this was southwestern Baizhi Lake, not a region known for frequent quakes. If anything, it would be minor—nothing to worry about.
But before she could finish her sentence, a deafening crash sounded beside her. A nearby village house crumbled, its brick walls collapsing.
As the dust and rubble billowed into the air, everyone instinctively screamed and backed away.
A chunk of flying debris shot straight toward Bai Shuang. She had no time to react, only able to watch helplessly as the stone got closer and closer, seemingly about to smash into her eye.
Then, a hand stretched out from beside her, shielding her eyes and effortlessly deflecting the stone.
With a crisp “pop!”, the rock fell harmlessly to the ground.
It had just saved Bai Shuang from a serious eye injury.
Still shaken, she turned to the Taoist who had helped her and quickly nodded in gratitude.
But the Taoist wasn’t looking at her—his gaze had shifted, sternly fixed on the direction of the village.
All around them, the houses of the abandoned village cracked under the violent tremors. The sharp, jarring sounds of wood and stone splitting filled the air.
The moss-covered walls tumbled into heaps of rubble.
Homes that had somehow withstood decades of wind and rain now crumbled in an instant under this quake, reduced to ruins.
Not a single house remained standing.
It was as if the curse of the Bai family village had finally come to an end.
And the ghost play passed down from the ghost official a thousand years ago had at last fulfilled its purpose—vanishing without a trace.
While the production crew all assumed it was just an earthquake, the Taoists knew better. Something this complete and destructive wasn’t a natural event.
Earlier, when they had battled fierce evil spirits in the village, no matter how fierce the clash, the buildings had remained intact.
But now, with just a slight tremor, the entire village collapsed.
A chilling thought crossed the Taoist’s mind.
—The ghost energy sustaining the illusion of the abandoned village had disappeared.
This fake dimension they had mistakenly entered was about to collapse, and with it, the village had no reason to exist any longer.
While the other Taoists calmly shielded the production crew, applying emergency bandages to Taoist Ma’s wounds, they also readied themselves to escape. They waited only for the ghost energy to weaken enough to break through and get out.
But Taoist Li suddenly raised his head, his eyes sharp as lightning, shooting a piercing gaze toward the far end of the village.
That direction pointed toward Baizhi Lake—the secret refuge of the old Fengdu.
After being pushed out of the old Fengdu by Li Chengyun, Taoist Li had lost all sense of its presence, let alone any way to return.
But now, he once again felt an overwhelming surge of ghostly energy.
It wasn’t the kind of aggressive force that sought to ravage the world. Rather, it was like a final outburst—a flash of brilliance before death.
Just seconds after Taoist Li sensed the abnormality at Baizhi Lake, ripples suddenly spread across its previously calm surface, growing wider and stronger until they covered the entire lake, even stirring up gusts of wind and waves.
Then, the lake waters began to surge violently.
Towering waves several meters high pounded against the shores, as though trying to swallow the land itself.
The production crew cried out and stumbled backward. The Taoists immediately stepped forward, wary of what might burst from beneath the lake.
But Taoist Li seemed to sense something different. He dashed toward Baizhi Lake, heart pounding with hope.
His eyes, though aged, were clear and full of light—an ember of hope long buried was beginning to rekindle.
Maybe… just maybe, his little junior brother still had a sliver of life left?
Could it be… his junior brother was coming back?
Taoist Li stood at the water’s edge, unbothered by the waves soaking his cloth shoes. His eyes fixed steadily on the lake, as if trying to pierce through its depths and see that familiar, noble figure.
But he was destined for disappointment.
The furious waters split, flinging debris ashore, and several figures emerged from the lake’s depths.
Leading them was Yan Shixun.
Riding high on warhorses, the ghost soldiers of Fengdu followed the crashing waves, each carrying a member of the rescue team. The team members, unused to being so close to ghost soldiers—let alone personally escorted back to the human realm—looked dazed and disoriented.
The official in charge and the Taoist, however, were intrigued by the spectacle, clearly eager to study the differences between ghost soldiers and ghost officials of the underworld.
The Taoist even started chatting with the ghost soldier who carried him on horseback, seemingly hoping to call on them for help if trouble arose in the future.
The ghost soldier didn’t know how to respond—answering or staying silent both felt wrong. Beneath the armor, his stiff posture betrayed his discomfort.
After all, Fengdu’s gates had been shut to the living for a hundred years. Whether the underworld’s formation could still respond to calls for aid was beyond his control. But saying nothing wasn’t easy either—this Taoist happened to be a relative of the Madam of Fengdu…
Ghost soldier: Can’t believe I’m still dealing with workplace politics even after death.
Soon, the group rode the wind and waves, landing steadily on the ground.
But the lake’s fury didn’t cease. After delivering the people safely ashore, the water surged past them, roaring toward the ruins of the abandoned village.
Floodwaters poured in.
In an instant, the entire Bai family village was swallowed, wiped clean from the earth.
The Taoists instinctively tried to dodge the incoming tide, but the water skillfully avoided everyone.
Not even the ground beneath their feet was dampened.
The production crew, still trembling moments ago, now stared in astonishment at the bizarre sight. They wiped their eyes, unable to believe what they were seeing.
But Bai Shuang, sharpened by her instincts honed from this program, immediately spotted Yan Shixun among the crowd. Overjoyed, she waved at him wildly, even bouncing up and down, trying to catch his eye.
Taoist Li glanced over and saw many familiar faces—people he had met in the underworld of the old Fengdu.
But one face was missing.
Li Chengyun.
The light that had just kindled in Taoist Li’s eyes slowly faded.
He didn’t say anything. He stood silently for a moment, then acted as though nothing had happened. He nodded at Yan Shixun and said, “You’re back, Xiao Xun.”
Yan Shixun froze in place.
He had seen Taoist Li the moment he landed—and the flicker of hope that dimmed in the elder’s eyes.
Yan Shixun knew exactly who Taoist Li had been waiting for. That knowledge made his heart ache even more, unsure of how to explain. But unexpectedly, Taoist Li didn’t put him on the spot. Instead, he broke the silence himself, relieving the tension.
Still, the change in how Taoist Li addressed him left Yan Shixun stunned.
Before, Taoist Li always called him “Gou Dan’s Disciple.” Even when Yan Shixun protested, the elder would still cheerfully use it.
But this time, Taoist Li had called him “Xiao Xun.”
Yan Shixun gradually realized that, to Taoist Li, what had truly mattered more all along was Li Chengyun. Every relationship had revolved around him, and even the way people were addressed had revealed their closeness to Li Chengyun.
Back then, in Taoist Li’s eyes, Yan Shixun had been Li Chengyun’s disciple—his junior nephew.
But now, Li Chengyun was gone.
Yan Shixun no longer had a master. The most important link connecting the two of them had disappeared.
That familiar call of “Gou Dan’s Disciple” would never ring out again.
Yet now, Taoist Li had taken it upon himself to assume Li Chengyun’s role. He regarded Yan Shixun as someone close, as if to replace Li Chengyun, and called out that name—
Xiao Xun.
Yan Shixun stood frozen in place for a long time, his eyes welling up with tears that glistened and dampened the corners of his eyes.
Taoist Li, however, acted unlike his usual irritable self. He stood there with his hands behind his back, smiling as he looked at Yan Shixun, as if waiting for him to catch up.
No excessive words were needed. Both of them knew what questions hadn’t been asked, and neither wanted to say aloud what the answers would be.
Yan Shixun shut his eyes tightly, forcing the tears back down. When he opened them again, his usual calm had returned.
“Taoist Li,”
Yan Shixun walked over and gave a slight bow of respect. “Thank you for arriving in time. Did you see the members of the production crew?”
Taoist Li casually pointed behind him. “There, do a headcount.”
The crew, protected in the center by the other Taoists, immediately became emotional, looking like a bunch of chicks desperate to rush under a mother hen’s wings.
Yan Shixun raised his eyebrows at their overwhelming enthusiasm, but then couldn’t help but smile at their reaction.
By the time he stood before them, there was no trace of the grief and heaviness he had just felt.
Even the variety show celebrity who had been closely observing him didn’t notice any change in his expression.
But with just one glance, Yan Shixun sensed something was off. “Where are Xingxing and the others?”
He immediately turned to ask the assistant director, “Did Lu Xingxing and his group not meet up with you? Have you seen them?”
The assistant director looked completely baffled and shook his head. “We met up with Taoist Ma and Taoist Wang, then entered the village together. We just came in from the other side and didn’t see any of the other guests.”
From what both the Taoists and the crew shared, Yan Shixun quickly pieced together what had happened, and his brows gradually knit into a frown.
“Based on this, there must’ve been at least three villages that existed simultaneously, but were isolated from each other. That’s why we were all in the village at the same time but couldn’t see one another.”
Yan Shixun continued, “Before I entered Baizhi Lake, I specifically instructed Xingxing and the others to leave the village. They were traveling with Master Bai, who was severely injured, along with several dozen members of the rescue team.”
“Xingxing may love to play around, but he doesn’t have the guts to disobey me.”
But the current situation was that no one had seen Xingxing and his group.
A bad feeling swept through Yan Shixun’s heart.
Taoist Li’s expression turned grim as well.
He realized the scene he had seen earlier… it was very likely something Xingxing was experiencing right now!
That wasn’t a vision of the future. It was Heaven and Earth showing him that Xingxing and the others were still trapped on the other side—urging him to act quickly before Baizhi Lake completely vanished along with the old Fengdu, to rescue his children.
“I saw Xingxing, during my communion with Heaven and Earth,”
Taoist Li said solemnly, his voice low: “He….”
“Was burning in flames.”
Yan Shixun and Taoist Li exchanged a look, and realization dawned on them at the same time.
Lu Xingxing must have used a talisman!
Under the Ghost Dao, any method of exorcism would invoke its punishment.
Just as ghost spirits would ignite when struck by talismans under the Great Dao, exorcists who used talismans under the Ghost Dao would be setting themselves ablaze.
That was the exact method Yan Shixun had used when he discovered a weakness in the old Fengdu’s core and exploited it.
But he remembered very clearly—he had told Lu Xingxing about the dangers of the Ghost Dao. Lu Xingxing couldn’t have been unaware of the consequences of using a talisman.
Yet he still used one…
There was only one explanation—
The situation had become so dire that, even knowing the consequences, Lu Xingxing had no choice but to use a talisman to protect himself—or someone else.
In other words, after leaving the deserted village, Lu Xingxing and his group had once again encountered evil spirits.
As that thought solidified, Yan Shixun’s heart sank like a stone.
Lu Xingxing… was already carrying serious injuries.
Even though Yan Shixun himself often fought on through wounds—and even now his arm was still bleeding—to him, it was only right to bear such burdens. But Lu Xingxing was still a child who hadn’t even completed his training. He shouldn’t have had to endure such things.
“This place is about to collapse. Once you’re out of the village, head straight to the Shadow Puppet Museum.”
Yan Shixun spat out the words quickly, then immediately grabbed Ye Li and strode toward the village entrance.
The Taoist was stunned. “Fellow Taoist Yan, what—what are you doing?!”
Yan Shixun slightly turned his head, his voice cold and firm. “I’m leaving the program team in your hands.”
“I’m going to bring Xingxing back.”
The Taoist was taken aback by the anger and determination in Yan Shixun’s eyes. It took him a moment to react, and then he hurried to follow after him.
But he was stopped by Taoist Li.
“What are you doing?”
Taoist Li snorted. “Can’t you see what’s going on here? All these people are waiting to evacuate. You want to dump all the heavy lifting on me?”
“No, Grandmaster, I didn’t mean that.”
The Taoist explained anxiously, “But if you and Fellow Taoist Yan are right, and Xingxing really has been hurt by the Ghost Dao, then the danger he’s walking into is unimaginable. Fellow Taoist Yan may not be able to handle it alone! I specialize in medicine and healing—let me go…”
“No need.”
Taoist Li glanced at Yan Shixun’s retreating figure. “He’s Xingxing’s master uncle. Aside from his master, no one is more suited to bring him back.”
He smiled. “Don’t let his cold face fool you. My little junior brother always worries that he has no friends, but the truth is—he’s fiercely protective. Others love and respect him. Leaving him to him—I feel at ease.”
“But…”
The Taoist pointed in Yan Shixun’s direction, about to argue again, when Taoist Li smacked the top of his head.
“That’s enough. Let’s go.”
Taoist Li cast a casual glance back at Baizhi Lake. “The floodwaters will swallow the mountains. It’s just the cycle of nature, eternal and inevitable.”
With that, Taoist Li was the first to grab the nearby official in charge, leaping nimbly over the piles of rubble blocking the path and dashing toward the village outskirts.
Despite his age—well over a hundred—his agility and stamina showed no signs of decline. In fact, he moved better than the official, who nearly tripped trying to keep up with him.
At that moment, the official had no time to ask questions. All he could focus on was running for his life.
He used to think of himself as fit and energetic. He had even completed a full marathon in Binhai City! But now, being dragged along by Taoist Li, he realized… the gap between people could be this wide?!
If he weren’t afraid of running out of breath, the official would’ve asked if Taoist Li had secretly become an immortal!
The rest of the program crew, being led by other Taoists, also looked at Taoist Li and the others with a mix of shock and envy.
They had always thought Taoists only needed to chant scriptures and draw talismans. Who would’ve guessed they were all packed with lean muscle?
Even at his age, Taoist Li could still outrun most of them—and looked healthier too.
Staff: No wonder they cultivate the Dao. Maybe I should start taking better care of my health too.
Staff: I have this feeling… that even after I die, Taoist Li will still be alive. Is that just my imagination?
Behind them, the flood surged and pounded against the mountains, ferocious and relentless, nearly devouring every valley below.
The crashing waves roared in their ears, deafening.
But with the Taoists nearby, the group didn’t panic. Instead, they marveled at the terrifying beauty of the scene, feeling more awe than fear.
In a thousand years, seas turned to mulberry fields and back again.
The old Fengdu had once hidden itself through Baizhi Lake. Now, thanks to Yan Shixun and Ye Li’s efforts, it had been completely erased from the world. Every inch of the blood-soaked, death-laden land in Baizhi Lake and the nearby village had been condemned by the Great Dao. It would not be allowed to exist any longer.
While sprinting, Taoist Li turned slightly, taking one final, deep look at Baizhi Lake.
That was… where Li Chengyun had died.
Once, there had been an extraordinary man who sacrificed himself at Baizhi Lake for the Great Dao and the sake of all living beings.
The flowers on the twisted branches bloomed and fell again and again—three full cycles of rebirth—leaving behind hope for all sentient life.
If Li Chengyun had not chosen to die… if the Great Dao hadn’t collapsed… he would have been worthy of sainthood on the spot.
What a shame…
Taoist Li could bear to look no longer. He sighed heavily.
With the Ghost Dao completely annihilated and the Great Dao restored to its rightful order, no more malevolent spirits could stop them from leaving Baizhi Lake.
With Taoist Li and the other Taoists leading the way, they quickly returned to the area near the Shadow Puppet Museum.
From a distance, Bai Shuang saw An Nanyuan and the others either standing or sitting, while several vehicles marked with the symbols of Haiyun Temple and special government departments were parked nearby. Rescue workers and medical staff moved busily among them.
The headlights illuminated the area like daylight. After being trapped in darkness and fear for so long, the sight of that light brought tears to everyone’s eyes and made them want to cry.
“An Nanyuan! Nan Tian!”
Bai Shuang shouted her friends’ names, her voice breaking from emotion.
An Nanyuan and the others turned around. Their previously somber faces instantly lit up with joy.
“Bai Shuang! You’re all back—that’s great!”
At the temporary camp, cheers and cries erupted.
Bai Shuang’s face flushed with excitement as she ran over and was quickly embraced by the guests. The overwhelming joy of surviving washed over her.
She hugged each of her friends tightly. Seeing everyone safe and sound, she finally burst into tears.
Back in the cursed village, surrounded by evil spirits, she hadn’t even dared to imagine this moment. Now that it had come, it felt surreal—she had to keep confirming with the people around her that they were really, truly safe.
The staff, once placed safely on the ground by the Taoists, simply plopped down where they stood, too exhausted to take another step.
That breath they had been holding the whole time—they could finally let it out.
The rescue team members, who had returned ahead of the program crew, quickly came over to help the exhausted staff onto the rescue trucks.
There was hot water, warm porridge, cozy blankets, and a place to rest.
These things, so ordinary on any other day, now felt like rare luxuries. Many staff members couldn’t stop their tears as soon as they smelled the rice porridge.
Not from hunger.
But because only then—smelling that simple, homely scent—they finally felt grounded, like they were back in the human world.
The haunted village had been cold, damp, reeking of moss and decay—every corner filled with fear and despair.
But here… it felt like home.
Aside from the rescue team, a few Taoists who had stayed behind at the museum were also present. Upon seeing Taoist Li, they rushed over in joy.
“Master Uncle! Are you alright?!”
The mustached Taoist came forward excitedly. “I thought—I thought…”
“You thought I was dead?”
Taoist Li rolled his eyes. “Enough already. Just look at all of you, each more hopeless than the last. I can’t even die in peace—I’m scared you’ll bring the heavens crashing down. Even if I die, I’ll have to come back to life!”
“A bunch of Taoists, and not a single one of you is worth a damn!”
The more he looked at the Taoists in front of him, the angrier Taoist Li became. Especially when he recalled how Yan Shixun had once single-handedly suppressed an evil spirit in the old Fengdu, leading to its downfall. The mere memory made his blood boil.
If the timing hadn’t been so wrong, he would’ve picked up his peach wood sword right then and there and given each of them a beating.
“Look at Xiao Xun and look at yourselves. If even one of you could hold up the sky, I wouldn’t have been so furious I came back to life!”
Taoist Li scolded with glaring eyes, but not a single Taoist dared to talk back. They all hung their heads low in silence.
And yet, despite being scolded, they felt a strange happiness.
At their age and level of cultivation, being reprimanded by their master or grandmaster was a kind of blessing.
However, one of the Taoists keenly noticed that Taoist Li had started referring to Yan Shixun in a different tone, and couldn’t help but feel puzzled about what had happened.
But Taoist Li had no intention of explaining. His gaze swept across the scene, and when he didn’t see Lu Xingxing among them, his expression dropped.
“Where’s that brat Xingxing?”
“Right! I haven’t seen Xingxing either. Come to think of it, wasn’t he supposed to have returned with the program’s guests…”
The Taoist who had returned from the old Fengdu with the official in charge turned around, raising a hand to point toward the guests nearby. But when he saw the sorrowful expressions on their faces, his voice caught in his throat.
A sense of foreboding settled over him.
The entire atmosphere suddenly turned heavy.
The excitement from Bai Shuang and the others returning was instantly replaced with a somber gloom.
The guests, who had only moments ago been smiling, now wore bitter expressions.
They sat in the rescue vehicle, holding cups of hot water, wrapped in blankets, and attended by medical staff who were helping them bandage wounds. But Lu Xingxing…
Lu Xingxing had stayed behind outside the deserted village, all by himself, to block the ghost creatures chasing them, so that everyone else could escape and receive help.
Because they had just been rescued and Taoist Li’s group had only just arrived to regroup, no one had had time to explain Lu Xingxing’s situation to the official in charge. But the Taoists who had been stationed at the shadow puppet museum from the start already knew.
When the guests and rescue team had fled in panic and reached the vicinity of the museum, they immediately called out to the Taoists for help before even catching their breath, begging them to go back and save Lu Xingxing.
The Taoists had rushed forward to catch the staggering guests, listening as they gasped and recounted what had happened.
Their hearts grew heavy.
They hadn’t expected that the always-smiling kid who used to skip lessons and get chased across the mountains by Taoist Song Yi wielding a peach wood sword would, in such a critical moment, risk his life to save everyone else.
When Taoist Li asked his question, the Taoists remained silent for a long time before finally sighing and saying, “That child Xingxing is also a disciple of our Haiyun Temple.”
“Raised in Haiyun Temple, trained at Haiyun Temple—he is, without a doubt, one of our own.”
“Even in death, he will be a heroic soul of Haiyun Temple. We will erect a stele in his name and offer incense in remembrance.”
One Taoist closed his eyes, his voice heavy with sorrow. He couldn’t bear to say anything harsher, but neither could he allow Taoist Li and the others to hold out false hope.
The higher the expectations, the harsher the blow of disappointment.
Although one Taoist had rushed to the place the guests had mentioned to look for Lu Xingxing, the others dared not hope too much.
They knew full well that under such circumstances…
Even recovering a complete corpse would be a miracle.
More likely, he would have turned to ashes.
Just like those before him from Haiyun Temple—Taoists whose bodies were never found—only honored with a symbolic grave on the mountain behind the temple. Their memorial tablets placed in the main hall, worshipped by future disciples of Haiyun Temple, their heroic souls becoming part of the force that protected the people.
But Taoist Li, even before asking, had already guessed as much. So he wasn’t too disappointed—it only confirmed what he had already suspected.
He nodded steadily and, unlike the others, didn’t seem too pessimistic. “Xiao Xun already went to save Xingxing. Let’s hope he gets there in time.”
The Evil Spirit Bone Transformation, the miracle that turned back the tide, the vital force capable of putting the crumbling Great Dao back in place—
With Yan Shixun there, perhaps…
Lu Xingxing still had a chance.
Meanwhile, not long after Yan Shixun had dragged Ye Li out with him, he suddenly realized something was wrong.
Even with the coordinates seen by Taoist Li through his vision of the heavens, the area around Baizhi Lake had already been fragmented by competing forces. Even that deserted village had multiple layers—other surrounding spaces were just as easy to accidentally step into.
It was like an 8D interdimensional overpass—even if the coordinates were correct, it was still very easy to land in the wrong place.
Yan Shixun looked up at Ye Li beside him and suddenly felt he’d grabbed the wrong person.
He should’ve brought Zhang Wubing instead.
Ye Li blinked. “…?”
The Lord of Fengdu never expected that his lover would reject him over something like this. But…
“Shixun, are you seriously treating the King of Hell like a GPS now?”
Ye Li was exasperated, but he still felt a subtle sense of triumph swell inside him.
See? In Shixun’s eyes, I’m his lover. The King of Hell? Just a navigation tool.
—Who falls in love with a GPS? No competition at all, ha!
But just as Ye Li asked, a light chuckle rang out nearby.
“From the moment you grabbed the Lord of Fengdu, I figured you had the wrong person. So I followed you on my own—I knew you’d need me.”
That refined, smiling face of the King of Hell appeared beside them. “So? Am I thoughtful or what?”
Ye Li: “…….”
He gave the King of Hell a cold smirk, one of those smiles that didn’t reach the eyes—it was enough to make anyone’s skin crawl.
The King of Hell merely raised a brow and returned an ambiguous smile. Navigation tool? Still better than a certain useless someone.
Yan Shixun ignored the tension between the two. He reached out and grabbed the King of Hell’s wrist. “GPS—no, I mean, take me to Lu Xingxing!”
The King of Hell lazily shook his folding fan, eyes cast down as he studied the movements of sun, moon, and stars traced upon its surface, as if divining his location.
In the next moment, his expression turned serious. He raised a hand and pointed to a small path beside them. “This way. Shortcut.”
Ye Li wrapped an arm around Yan Shixun’s waist and sneered at the King of Hell. “Why bother with all that? Have you been away from the underworld so long that you’ve forgotten ghosts and deities can shrink the earth and traverse space?”
The King of Hell clicked his tongue. “Tsk…..are you saying I’m no longer the King of Hell?”
But once he had correctly identified Lu Xingxing’s location, the rest became easy.
Black mist surged, and the power of ghost deities swept through the land. The heavens themselves parted. Distance shrank.
In the blink of an eye, the mountains, lakes, and rivers flew past. Yan Shixun felt the scenery blur and shift before his eyes—it had already changed.
Not far ahead, roaring flames lit up the darkness, keeping the ghostly horde at bay.
The moment Ye Li and Yan Shixun appeared, the evil spirits that had been lurking at the edge of the fire—hesitant but predatory—screamed in terror and scattered like roaches.
At that moment, both Yan Shixun and Ye Li clearly saw the figure standing at the very center of the flames.
—Even while suffering immense pain, he still refused to let go of the talisman in his hand. Standing there with his hands forming a seal, his back was straight like a pine tree.
Who else could it be but Lu Xingxing?
Yan Shixun’s expression turned sharp and cold in an instant. Enraged, he shouted, “How dare you!”
The dense ghost aura flowing through his meridians instantly spread outward like an invisible curved blade, slashing the throat of the evil ghost in a blink.
Ye Li lifted his eyelashes and cast a look of disgust at the evil spirits.
The very next second, every evil ghost that had a karmic connection to Lu Xingxing, those responsible for his current injuries, disintegrated into ashes on the spot—no matter how far they had run.
Yan Shixun leaped straight into the raging flames, chanting an incantation in reverse, a counter-spell to drive out evil. He aimed to dispel the life energy and yang aura clinging to Lu Xingxing, rapidly extinguishing the fire.
When he finally reached Lu Xingxing’s side, he could at last see the boy’s current condition clearly.
The once high-spirited young musician was gone.
What remained was only a young man who had burned through every last ounce of his strength.
His face was ghostly pale without a trace of color. A thick black aura lingered between his brows. His entire body was ice-cold, lacking the warmth a living person should have. The wounds from earlier, which had never fully healed, had long since bled dry, forming a pool of blood at his feet.
Worst of all were the massive burns covering his body.
Unlike physical burns, these were caused by a clash between life force and ghost aura. They hadn’t scorched his outer skin—but burned away his inner vitality.
It could be said that Lu Xingxing had been almost completely drained of life.
He no longer… had any chance of staying in the world of the living.
Yan Shixun’s pupils contracted, and his outstretched hand trembled, not daring to touch Lu Xingxing.
It had only been a short parting… How had the spirited young man who once challenged the heavens fallen to such a tragic state?
“Xingxing…”
Yan Shixun softly called out to Lu Xingxing. His usually steady voice trembled uncontrollably.
But Lu Xingxing still stood through sheer willpower, swaying on the brink of collapse.
The agony he was enduring far exceeded human limits. His mind had already stopped functioning, leaving only one stubborn thought firmly rooted in his soul:
—To stall the evil spirit long enough so everyone else could escape to safety. Even if… even if it cost him his life, it would be worth it.
When he finally heard someone calling his name, it took several moments for his sluggish brain to catch up and recall why that voice sounded so familiar.
With great difficulty, he turned his neck. His pain-blurred eyes held no light as they gazed blankly in the direction of the voice. Then, his bloodless lips struggled to form a smile.
“Master Uncle… Master Aunt…”
Yan Shixun reached out and shielded Lu Xingxing with his arms, nodding heavily. “It’s me. I’ve come for you.”
“What about them… are they safe?”
Lu Xingxing’s breath was barely a whisper, but he still clung to the purpose that had driven him to this point.
Yan Shixun felt like an invisible hand was clutching his heart. His throat tightened, making it hard to speak, but under Lu Xingxing’s unfocused gaze, he solemnly replied, “Don’t worry. You did great, Xingxing.”
“You protected them. You are an outstanding Taoist.”
He paused for a moment, swallowing down the lump in his throat, and continued, “Now it’s my turn to protect you.”
“Xingxing.”
Lu Xingxing’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, then he smiled and slowly closed his eyes.
His exhausted body went limp and began to fall.
Yan Shixun was ready. He immediately caught him and held him in his arms.
But the moment Lu Xingxing’s freezing body—cold as if it had come from a morgue—touched Yan Shixun’s chest, the bitterness in his heart surged uncontrollably.
He was still just a kid who hadn’t even graduated as a disciple. Still the mischievous brat who used to laugh and skip class all over the mountains. How had he, in the blink of an eye, managed to carry the sky for others?
Ye Li stepped forward and placed a hand gently on the crown of Lu Xingxing’s head. He lowered his eyes in silence for a moment, then spoke: “The situation is dire.”
“But don’t worry, Shixun.”
The Lord of Fengdu delivered his judgment solemnly: “Lu Xingxing has accumulated merit. No ghost or demon has the right to steal his life span. His name still belongs in the world of the living.”
“I will help you bring him back.”
And when the others heard that Lu Xingxing hadn’t returned, the joy and excitement disappeared from their faces. They waited anxiously at the temporary camp, hoping to see him come back, full of life.
Even Taoist Li, who trusted Yan Shixun, couldn’t help but worry.
The morning sun slowly rose from behind the mountains, and the yang energy rapidly climbed. The cold dampness between the peaks faded as bright sunlight enveloped everyone.
Through the light mist of dawn, several tall figures walked toward them with steady steps.
Everyone lit up, hurriedly standing to welcome them.
But when the mist cleared and they saw the faces of the approaching figures, they all froze.
It wasn’t Lu Xingxing who had returned.
It was Yan Shixun.
Lu Xingxing lay motionless in his arms, eyes tightly shut, uncertain if alive or dead. His face showed no signs of vitality.
The moment Bai Shuang saw Lu Xingxing’s condition, tears burst from her eyes. “Xingxing!”
An Nanyuan clenched his fists tightly, his eyes red as tears streamed down his cheeks.
Nan Tian collapsed back onto the ground in despair, yanking his hair in frustration and hating himself for ever agreeing to Lu Xingxing’s plan—for leaving him behind.
He should have realized it back then! If only… if only he had been stronger, like Grandma or Ritual Master, would Xingxing still be alive?
Every guest whom Lu Xingxing had protected now wept bitterly, their hearts heavy with grief.
Song Ci’s eyes turned red as well, and he cursed through gritted teeth, calling Lu Xingxing a reckless fool—for daring to die.
But Taoist Li wasn’t swayed by the crying around him. He only stared straight at Yan Shixun, waiting for an answer.
Yan Shixun lifted his eyes to meet Taoist Li’s gaze and sighed softly. “The situation is very bad.”
All the other Taoists gathered around and saw Lu Xingxing’s condition. Many of them couldn’t help but gasp aloud.
Yet Taoist Li felt a flicker of hope.
Yan Shixun had said it was “very bad”—a phrase not used to describe the dead, but the severely injured.
Which meant, in Yan Shixun’s eyes, Lu Xingxing could still be saved!
And the next words out of Yan Shixun’s mouth confirmed Taoist Li’s thoughts.
“Xingxing’s life force has been cut off. Only the Great Dao and ghost deities can save him.”
Yan Shixun’s expression was calm and resolute. “Until Ye Li and I find a way to bring him back, I entrust all of you to keep him breathing—no matter what.”
“As long as his body isn’t cold… I will bring him back.”
Yan Shixun sneered coldly, “Even Heaven and Earth will not take him from me.”
He had already lost his master. He would not stand by and watch another familiar soul fall to the Ghost Dao….
Never again!
Author’s Note:
Ad Prompt: What do you do when you’re lost in an 8D multidimensional traffic maze? Use the *King of Hell Navigation App*! Pinpoint accuracy—mission accomplished!
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