Chapter 323: The Divine Tomb of the Underground Palace (10)
Although Yan Shixun was initially concerned that this massacre-like ghost slaughter might endanger the safety of the guests, once Ye Li explained that it was the villagers’ own karmic retribution, he relaxed.
Ghosts, too, had their distinctions between good and evil.
Even though the mainstream belief among exorcists was that any ghost who harmed others was an evil ghost, Yan Shixun saw things differently. In his eyes, many ghosts formed their obsessions out of the pain and hatred they experienced in life.
As long as a ghost didn’t harm the innocent and only sought revenge on those connected to their karmic grievance, Yan Shixun didn’t see a problem. He certainly wouldn’t interfere.
It was precisely because Yan Shixun disliked forming karmic ties with others that he avoided unnecessary trouble.
—He had returned the money to the villagers, which essentially severed his karmic connection with them.
Much of that money had been extorted from passersby by the villagers in the past. It carried their sinful karma. If Yan Shixun had accepted it, he would have been karmically entangled with them and wouldn’t be able to remain so detached from the massacre unfolding now.
This made Yan Shixun sigh a little.
“It’s best not to take ill-gotten gains,”
He shook his head, feeling no more waves of emotion about the villagers’ deaths.
However, one thing did pique his curiosity.
—The karma Ye Li mentioned, where exactly did it come from?
Was it really just about their history of roadside extortion? Or was there something more?
After all, if it was just for extortion, how could such vengeful ghosts be born?
Could it be that the villagers had caused someone’s death in the process?
Ye Li seemed to sense Yan Shixun’s doubts and spoke in a flat tone: “These people did, in fact, cause deaths.”
Among the vehicles they stopped on the road were not only ordinary travelers, but also many freight trucks.
Some truck drivers had stubborn tempers and were willing to endure hardship to earn money for their families. They especially couldn’t tolerate the villagers’ road-blocking extortion and often refused to give a single cent.
Arguments and even serious physical altercations were common occurrences.
Occasionally, when the villagers encountered particularly uncooperative truck drivers, they lost control in their rage. During a group beating, they sometimes ended up beating a driver to death.
Ye Li casually pointed to a few houses in the village and said coldly, “The corpses are still buried in the backyards of these homes, in the fields. The villagers even used them as fertilizer.”
Since the village was remote, no one from the outside world would know even if someone went missing here. The first time it happened, the villagers were panicked. But over time, they got used to it.
When someone died, they just buried the body. Then they’d divide up the belongings and money, dump the vehicle somewhere random, and the outside world would never learn what had happened.
But they couldn’t escape the eyes of the Lord of Fengdu.
Yan Shixun fell silent, realizing he now saw the village in a new light.
Still, something didn’t sit right with him. “Everything was still normal just a few hours ago. It’s only been two or three hours since, and all this has happened. From the moment I heard the first scream to now, it’s been less than half an hour.”
He frowned as he looked around and muttered, “It’s too fast…”
If the murdered drivers wanted revenge, they could have come at any time. Why now, right when they had arrived to look for the burial site?
And the strangest thing was, when Yan Shixun climbed the mountain to find a signal and call the rescue team, he had briefly looked down at the village from a high point.
At that time, there had been no sign of ghosts.
So how had the situation escalated to this extent in just a few hours?
To kill every man, woman, and child in the village in such a short time, and to leave not a single person able to fight back—judging from their death postures, they were all trying to flee…
He could only guess that the ghosts who attacked the village must have been large in number and overwhelmingly powerful to create such devastation.
But then, where did these ghosts come from? And why couldn’t Ye Li see through their deeper karmic ties?
Yan Shixun’s brows furrowed deeply as he looked over the pools of blood and corpses littering the area. He felt an urge to revive one of them on the spot and ask what other atrocities the villagers had committed.
After carefully inspecting every single corpse in the village and confirming that they had all died from the same cause, Yan Shixun turned back to the temporary shelter outside the village.
By now, the guests had begun to wake up one by one, wrapped in blankets, groggy and still unaware of what had happened.
Only Nan Tian, who had heard the scream at the start, remained anxious, nervously awaiting Yan Shixun’s return.
Nan Tian had considered asking either the King of Hell or the general about the situation, but the two of them sat calmly in place, as if they didn’t care at all about what was happening.
The general stared steadily out the window, seemingly waiting for Yan Shixun.
As for the King of Hell, his sleeves were tucked, his eyes closed, calm and composed. It was impossible to tell whether he was asleep or simply already knew what was going on.
Nan Tian hesitated and ultimately didn’t dare to speak and disturb either of them.
He remembered how, when filming had just started, some people had complained about Yan Shixun’s cold and irritable attitude. Now, he wished those people could see this for themselves—compared to these ghostly beings, Yan Shixun’s demeanor was practically saintly.
At the very least, he only dared to speak to Yan Shixun.
As soon as the door opened and Yan Shixun stepped in, Nan Tian leapt up and rushed to meet him.
“Brother Yan, what’s going on out there?”
Nan Tian’s face was filled with worry. “What was that noise? Are we in danger?”
Yan Shixun was a bit surprised—he hadn’t expected Nan Tian to be this perceptive.
And the other guests, who had been rubbing their eyes and yawning, were startled by Nan Tian’s barrage of questions. Once they caught on, panic began to spread among them as well.
“Huh? Did something happen just now?”
“Damn it, I slept like a dead pig—I didn’t hear a single thing.”
“Oh god… that’s kind of terrifying in hindsight.”
“Good thing those few people were here. If a ghost had actually rushed in, we were sleeping like rocks. We wouldn’t have even known how we died.”
When the King of Hell saw that Yan Shixun had returned, he slowly opened his eyes.
He looked lazily at the flustered guests and casually added another blow: “Don’t worry. If you really died, I might not be able to do much, but I could at least make sure you reincarnated.”
The guests: “!!”
It was the first time they’d heard someone offer comfort like that. Not saying “Don’t be afraid of dying,” but rather, “Even if you die, I’ll make sure you reincarnate”?
Many of the guests stood in a daze, feeling as if their entire understanding of the world had been upended.
Out of concern for causing panic, Nan Tian hadn’t told anyone earlier that he heard screams. When asked, he merely said that Brother Yan had gone out on a patrol and would be back soon.
Only now did the guests finally hear from Yan Shixun what had really happened.
“Everyone… is dead?”
Nan Tian was shocked to the core, unable to accept such a horrific truth all at once.
Though he personally detested those villagers who extorted money and played victim, and knew that after inheriting the bloodline of a shaman, such situations would only increase, he had to get used to it.
But to suddenly face such a large-scale massacre—it still overwhelmed Nan Tian.
The other guests fell silent too.
Even though they hadn’t witnessed the scene with their own eyes, just hearing Yan Shixun’s description was enough to vividly imagine the current state of the village.
If it had been a past tragedy, like the incident at Baizhi Lake, a fact long since set in stone, the guests might have been able to accept it more easily.
But the slaughter in the village had just happened. When Yan Shixun arrived, many of the villagers’ bodies were still warm, the blood on the ground hadn’t even cooled.
They had just seen those villagers—sure, the villagers weren’t good people—but people who had been alive just moments ago were now dead…
It was hard for the guests to wrap their heads around it.
Whether it was the cold wind Yan Shixun brought in with him or just their nerves, everyone felt a chill deep in their bones, creeping up their spines, making their scalps tingle.
They huddled under their blankets, shivering, trying to find some warmth and sense of safety.
“So what now?”
Nan Tian asked anxiously, “Our tires were slashed—we can’t leave for now. Is it really safe for us to spend the night here?”
Yan Shixun gently shook his head and said, “Don’t worry. We’re not part of the village, and we’ve never been involved in their karma. Those ghosts aren’t interested in harming innocents—they only want revenge on their enemies.”
“Luckily, this house is outside the village. Even if something happens, it won’t reach us.”
He reassured the group, “Go ahead and get some rest. There’s no danger.”
Then he looked at Nan Tian and said, “But I’ll need you to shoulder some responsibility, Nan Tian.”
“I’m heading to the other side of the mountain to check on something. I don’t know when I’ll be back. In the meantime, I’ll need you to watch over things here, just
in case.”
Nan Tian nodded solemnly and agreed immediately, “Don’t worry. Since Brother Yan entrusted me with this, I’ll make sure to carry it out properly.”
He didn’t ask what Yan Shixun was going to do. If it was something the man didn’t want to say, Nan Tian would rather pretend to be deaf and blind—completely in the dark.
The King of Hell rested his chin in his palm, watching Nan Tian’s face tense up to the point that it was nearly out of control. Amused, he chuckled lightly and said in a relaxed tone, “Relax. Yan Shixun wasn’t lying. Those ghosts killed the villagers, but they won’t lay a single finger on any of you.”
He tapped his folding fan against his forehead and said with a smile, “The underworld has already received their petitions for reincarnation. They’ve got no intention of doing anything extra—just waiting for their wishes to be fulfilled before the ghost officials come to take them away.”
“If they harmed even a hair on your heads, their chance at reincarnation would be gone. They’re not foolish enough to make that mistake.”
Nan Tian still hadn’t recovered from the trauma of Lu Xingxing being gravely injured—almost to the point of death.
He knew that, despite his bloodline as a shaman, he was barely scraping by—half-baked at best. If real danger came, he wouldn’t be able to do much. So after promising Yan Shixun, he immediately began to feel nervous.
His hand gripping Yan Shixun’s coat sleeve was sweating so much that even Yan Shixun could feel the clammy heat through the fabric.
Despite being a long-time celebrity, Nan Tian now couldn’t even manage his own expressions. Both Yan Shixun and the King of Hell could easily see through him.
Yan Shixun paused for a moment, then reached out and patted Nan Tian on the shoulder to comfort him. “What happened to Xingxing… wasn’t your fault.”
Nan Tian gave a bitter smile and shook his head. His expression looked worse than crying. “I’m fine, Brother Yan. You don’t need to comfort me.”
He didn’t want to talk about it.
The moment he heard Lu Xingxing’s name, his mind involuntarily replayed the image of Yan Shixun carrying his back.
How could that possibly be the always energetic Lu Xingxing?
He no longer moved, no longer smiled—no more cheerful banter, no more sharp-tongued teasing.
Just a cold, pale body, utterly lifeless…
Nan Tian became dazed.
He even thought that maybe he should have stayed behind with Lu Xingxing—died there with him.
That would’ve been better than leaving him behind, only to return and find a frozen corpse.
When the medical staff treated Lu Xingxing’s injuries, Nan Tian had stood nearby watching the whole time, torturing himself with every wound they tended to. Each one stabbed at his heart, making him curse himself for not inheriting his shaman bloodline sooner, for not trying harder to study the spells and charms in the family grimoire.
If he were as strong as Ritual Master from Nanming Mountain, maybe Xingxing wouldn’t have ended up like this…
Afraid of making others worry, Nan Tian had buried all of these thoughts deep inside, telling no one.
Until now—when new trauma finally let the cracks show.
Yan Shixun watched Nan Tian carefully, his expression growing serious.
“Nan Tian, listen to me.”
He placed his slender hands gently on Nan Tian’s cheeks, forcing his unfocused gaze to meet his own.
Looking directly into his eyes, Yan Shixun spoke slowly and gravely, enunciating every word with weight: “This isn’t your fault. You didn’t hurt Xingxing. The way he is now—it wasn’t caused by you. You are not the one who harmed him. You’re just a survivor.”
“Good people often punish themselves with the guilt and pain that evil-doers deserve—but that’s not right, Nan Tian.”
“Lu Xingxing wanted to protect all of you, and he truly did. But the way you’re punishing yourself now will only make all his efforts go to waste.”
Yan Shixun spoke in a stern tone, “Do you want the first thing Xingxing sees when he opens his eyes to be what you’ve become now? What do you think he would feel? That the person he risked his life to save doesn’t even value his own life?”
“I will bring Xingxing back. So—”
Yan Shixun paused before continuing, “So trust me. Leave it to me.”
“What you need to do is take care of yourself. When Xingxing wakes up, greet him in your best condition and welcome him home.”
He softly asked Nan Tian, “Alright?”
Tears welled up in Nan Tian’s eyes. He nodded firmly, unable to speak through his choked-up throat.
Yan Shixun sighed and slowly let go of Nan Tian.
He lowered his gaze and took Nan Tian’s hand. His long fingers turned Nan Tian’s palm face-up, and then he placed his fingertip against the center of it.
Ghost energy surged from Yan Shixun’s meridians, and a talisman formed in one breath on Nan Tian’s palm. A faint light flashed briefly.
The talisman activated.
Nan Tian’s fingers twitched slightly, and under the cool touch of Yan Shixun’s hand, a strange sensation welled up within him.
In that instant, he felt as though he had transcended his own body, soaring high into the heavens and overlooking the world below.
It was a profound sensation—like glimpsing the secrets of the universe. The overwhelming surge washed over his soul, leaving Nan Tian breathless and causing his eyes to slowly widen.
In all his decades as an ordinary person, he had never experienced anything like this.
Even when he resolved to preserve the culture of Nanming Mountain, he had never imagined that the path of cultivation could feel like this.
Only now did Nan Tian suddenly begin to understand the mindset of the Taoists at Haiyun Temple.
At the same time, he couldn’t help but marvel at Yan Shixun’s immense talent—it was like an unbridgeable
chasm.
While many Taoists spent their whole lives unable to comprehend the Great Dao, Yan Shixun could so effortlessly guide someone like him—half-trained and barely on the path—into experiencing enlightenment. Was this… the kind of gift that could save the world from peril?
Nan Tian felt he had come to know Yan Shixun in a new light. For a moment, he couldn’t fully gather himself, still adjusting to his changed state.
Yan Shixun spoke calmly, “Nan Tian, protect everyone. And protect yourself too.”
“If you ever encounter a danger you can’t resolve, use the talisman to let me know.”
He lifted his gaze slightly and said, “Anywhere touched by ghost energy—I can reach in a day.”
He said it in the most ordinary tone, yet his words left everyone stunned.
The one most shocked was Nan Tian, who had inherited knowledge from a shamaness and had a deep understanding of the mystical arts.
“Brother Yan, you…”
Nan Tian hesitated, but he didn’t dare to confirm it aloud.
Yet Yan Shixun nodded, affirming his suspicion.
After the battle at the Old Fengdu, not only had Fengdu’s power come to encompass the entire land, but Yan Shixun had grown rapidly, his strength nearing its peak.
The ghost energy that would have killed an ordinary person had become the source of his power.
Yin and yang were in constant struggle—one waxing, the other waning.
The power that the Old Fengdu had accumulated over a thousand years surged through Yan Shixun’s meridians.
In places shrouded in ghost energy, he could now enter without resistance—ghosts dared not block his path.
He left the talisman with Nan Tian as a safeguard. If anything went wrong, it would serve as a coordinate he could use to return quickly.
After making all the preparations, Yan Shixun nodded to everyone, then turned and pushed open the door. The night wind blew fiercely, whipping his coat around him.
The general and the King of Hell followed closely, stepping out with him—one to his left, the other to his right.
Their figures soon disappeared into the darkness.
Only Nan Tian chased after them for a few steps, then stood still at the doorway, one hand bracing the doorframe as he silently watched the direction they had gone.
He still held up the hand with the drawn talisman, dazed, lost in thought.
The other guests all sighed. The moment Lu Xingxing was mentioned, the atmosphere turned heavy. None of them felt sleepy anymore.
After a long silence, someone finally broke it and softly said, “I wonder how Xingxing is doing now. Has he improved at all in Haiyun Temple?”
“I hope Brother Yan and the others succeed. That they can find a way to cure Xingxing and return safely.”
“They must return safely…”
The place Yan Shixun was heading to was the abandoned yizhuang on the other side of the mountain.
After the villagers had been slaughtered, his unease about the yizhuang reached its peak. He even suspected it might be a burial ground.
So he brought the general along, intending to investigate the mortuary in person.
As for the King of Hell…
“When it comes to understanding Ye Li, that man probably doesn’t know himself half as well as I do. I’ve studied him for hundreds of years—not only did I witness his death and ascension firsthand, I also visited all the rumored burial grounds associated with him.”
King of Hell spoke with perfect justification, “Even the rumor was something I told you—how could you not bring me along?”
—His reasoning was extremely sound.
Yan Shixun thought about it and realized he had no good reason to refuse, so he brought him along.
And so, just as Ye Li—who had been waiting outside the building—heard movement and turned around, he saw that not only had Yan Shixun returned, but he had brought two extra individuals with him.
Ye Li’s face instantly darkened. “Why did you come along?”
He had thought this would be a journey for just him and Shixun.
Just imagining the novel and thrilling trip had made it feel like what people referred to as a honeymoon.
So what were these two doing here?
The general didn’t respond to Ye Li’s question. Instead, he turned to Yan Shixun with a smile and said, “Since the one Shixun is visiting is my past self, perhaps I can be of some help.”
“Although I don’t particularly wish to recall that time, if Shixun wants to know…”
The general lowered his gaze slightly, revealing a gentle willingness to grant Yan Shixun’s every request. “Then what harm is there in digging up all that has passed?”
Yan Shixun paused in surprise, then nodded at him. “Thank you.”
King of Hell: “?”
The general opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something, but in the end, he sighed and said nothing.
Yan Shixun had no further reaction, but Ye Li clearly understood what the general meant. As a result, his aura grew even colder and heavier, enough to freeze anyone who came near.
While Yan Shixun discussed the rumors with the King of Hell, Ye Li cast a cold, silent glance at the general—a silent intimidation.
He mocked the general’s naïveté with a mouthing gesture: You think Shixun is that easy to win over? That a few words from you could change his mind? Ha. Keep dreaming. Stay away—from my Shixun!
Without Yan Shixun’s gaze on him, the general’s earlier smile vanished, his expression turning as cold and unmoving as a statue.
Ye Li didn’t want to waste another second on him. With a cold snort, he strode forward, quickly catching up with the other two.
Only the general remained behind, his eyes coldly following the figures walking ahead.
His steps paused briefly before he lifted his head to look at the mountain in front of him.
Beyond this mountain lay the abandoned yizhuang that Yan Shixun deeply dreaded.
But the general seemed to sense something strange, which made him frown and grow suspicious.
“The rumors, after all, are from a thousand years ago. Many of the paths I once personally walked have already vanished.”
The King of Hell sounded a little helpless as he casually pointed toward the nearby mountain range. “I remember coming to this place a long time ago. Back then, there wasn’t even a mountain here—just a small mound of earth. The surroundings weren’t as desolate as they are now, either. It used to be a large, bustling village.”
“Even if I were to search for things I once saw with my own eyes, it would be difficult now—let alone finding a place that only exists in old rumors.”
The King of Hell carefully examined the dense forest and towering mountains but ultimately spread his hands in helplessness and sighed. “Trying to find the burial site is incredibly difficult. Not to mention that those villagers probably buried the bodies very deep to avoid detection. Besides, Ye Li and those soldiers have long since become part of Fengdu.”
“If the corpses themselves don’t want to be found, then just the power they gain from becoming ghostly soldiers and deities is enough to keep themselves hidden from discovery.”
He didn’t want to crush Yan Shixun’s determination, but he had no choice but to speak the truth. “The chances are extremely slim, Yan Shixun. You’d best not get your hopes up too high.”
He let out a sigh. “I don’t even understand why the Great Dao would arrange things this way. It feels like it’s just making things harder for you.”
But Yan Shixun didn’t give up. Instead, he frowned deeply in thought. “The village chief told me about a corpse-reviving incident that happened more than a hundred years ago. The way he described it was almost identical to what happened tonight.”
“What kind of karma could make the deaths of the villagers mirror those of their ancestors so exactly?”
His gaze shifted from the mountain to the King of Hell as he voiced his speculation. “Is it possible that the original source of all this was the mass death back then? And what’s continued that legacy of death…”
“…is the abandoned yizhuang that still remains from that time?”
With that suspicion in mind, Yan Shixun was determined to find out what exactly was inside the yizhuang.
The King of Hell was a little exasperated by Yan Shixun’s insistence, but he knew there was no persuading him otherwise. After all, the Evil Spirit Bone Transformation was so full of resolve that it could defy even certain death. Otherwise, the Great Dao wouldn’t have pinned its final hopes on Yan Shixun.
His strength was both his salvation and his curse.
The King of Hell sighed again, shook his head helplessly, but couldn’t bring himself to stop Yan Shixun. So he followed him over the mountain, heading toward the abandoned yizhuang.
Oh well. Even if they couldn’t find the burial site, at least they might uncover the reason behind the villagers’ deaths tonight. That would make this trip worthwhile.
He could consider it a midnight stroll with Yan Shixun, since he couldn’t sleep anyway.
With that thought in mind, the King of Hell looked up at the sky and noticed that tonight was the night of a full moon.
The moon hung high and silently in the sky, with not a single cloud in sight, allowing its light to shine clearly over the earth and bathe the dense forest in silver.
Yet such a breathtakingly beautiful sight only made the King of Hell’s smile at the corners of his lips gradually fade.
Tonight wasn’t supposed to be a full moon… Strange. Why?
The moon belonged to the yin; for ghosts, it was as significant as the sun was to the living.
With the cycle of yin and yang, once the moon rose, the yin energy would surge rapidly, greatly enhancing the power of spirits.
During such times, ghosts gained the upper hand, and all sorts of supernatural entities would become much stronger.
Otherwise, the elders wouldn’t have warned their families not to go into the mountains at midnight, precisely to avoid encountering spirits.
Nor would there be legends about foxes worshipping the moon.
But based on the King of Hell’s thousands of years of experience, a full moon night like this one…
Was also particularly suited for corpse reanimation.
—Spirits filled with resentment and unwillingness could return to their corpses to continue unfinished business from their lifetimes, seek revenge on enemies, or even disrupt the balance of heaven and earth.
Regardless of whether tonight’s deaths in the village were truly linked to the events of a hundred years ago, at the very least, the “culprit” for tonight, the King of Hell had already guessed.
His gaze slowly settled on the abandoned yizhuang, his expression serious.
After crossing the mountain ridge, the area that had collapsed into rubble—the yizhuang—came into view for the group.
Although the village chief had previously assured Yan Shixun that no villagers had ever lived there, and that it had always been used solely as a yizhuang, what Yan Shixun saw instead resembled a regular village.
He could even discern the original village layout from the ruins.
Where the fields had been, where the water well stood, where the villagers once gathered to chat and cool off in the evenings…
Looking down from a height, everything was clearly visible.
The feng shui of yin dwellings and yang dwellings were fundamentally different and absolutely not interchangeable.
Yet the initial layout of this place clearly indicated it had been planned as a yang dwelling.
Although the houses had collapsed into piles of bricks and rubble, and weeds had overgrown and obscured the traces, it was still evident that the houses were aligned facing slightly south, with their backs to the mountain and front to water—a textbook layout for a yang dwelling.
Not only that, the faint traces of wells and fields further indicated that people had once lived here. This was not a site originally intended as a yizhuang.
Yizhuangs, meant to store numerous coffins, required much stricter feng shui to prevent corpse reanimation or, in the case of long-stored unclaimed bodies, the transformation into zombies due to improper feng shui. Local feng shui masters would be hired to assess such sites, leaving no room for error.
But this abandoned yizhuang clearly didn’t follow that standard.
It looked more like someone had found an empty plot with unused buildings and casually repurposed it to store corpses, using it as a yizhuang out of convenience.
This deepened Yan Shixun’s confusion.
The village chief’s expression back then hadn’t seemed deceptive, yet the feng shui of this place contradicted what he’d said.
What was going on? Had the chief’s grandfather made a mistake when recounting the events of the past, or was there some hidden truth behind it?
After all, it had been a hundred years ago, and it was deep in the mountains—they should have paid extra attention to matters like this.
If something like this had happened in recent years, Yan Shixun could understand it better. Nowadays, there were more charlatans than genuine feng shui masters, and fewer and fewer people respected or understood burial customs.
But a hundred years ago… what exactly had happened?
With that question in mind, Yan Shixun stepped onto the narrow path leading into the abandoned yizhuang.
The place indeed looked like it hadn’t been visited in ages. The weeds had grown over a meter tall. Even with his height of 1.83 meters, once he entered the thicket, the grass reached up to his shoulders.
For an ordinary person, entering this area would be like walking into a maze—it would be nearly impossible to find a way through the tangled undergrowth to the heart of the village.
Not long ago, it seemed snow had fallen here and melted. When Yan Shixun stepped into the grass, he immediately noticed that the ground was far softer than expected.
It felt almost like a swamp—once his combat boots sank into the muck, it was difficult to pull them back out.
His vision was obstructed, the path ahead completely hidden by layers of thick grass, and the ground beneath was all soggy mud.
This was an extremely difficult path to walk. Even for Yan Shixun, moving forward was slow and strenuous.
But the one who had it even harder was the King of Hell.
Unlike Yan Shixun, who wore boots suitable for hiking in the wilderness, the King of Hell had on delicate cloth shoes. As soon as he stepped into the mud, they sank deep.
Worse still, Zhang Wubing’s body, which the King of Hell was currently using, was shorter than Yan Shixun’s.
No matter what his original height and appearance had been, while using Zhang Wubing’s body, he had the same height as Zhang Wubing—just enough for his head to peek above the tall grass.
And with his shoes now sunk into the mud, he stood even shorter.
He couldn’t even see anything beyond the grass.
King of Hell: “……”
He stood there, scowling as he looked at the tangled weeds crowding his view. He felt like this place must be somehow incompatible with his fate, and the frustration bubbling up in him turned into an inexplicable wave of fury.
He flicked the folding fan in his hand lightly, and a fierce wind instantly surged forth, sweeping across the surroundings.
Centered around the King of Hell, the entire patch of wild grass bent backward like waves breaking apart, rustling with loud whooshing sounds.
In the next second, the gust sliced nearly a meter off the top of the grass.
Leaves flew upward, scattering chaotically into the sky.
Yan Shixun turned around in shock and stared at the King of Hell. He hadn’t expected him to do something like this.
But the King of Hell raised his eyebrows, finally feeling mentally refreshed thanks to the now-clear view in front of him.
He nodded in satisfaction and said, “It looks much better now, doesn’t it? Even in a ghost deity’s mass grave, where my powers are suppressed, I can still manage small things like this.”
Yan Shixun: “…It’s fine, but probably not necessary. It’s not like we couldn’t see.”
King of Hell: “…No, it was very necessary.”
He looked Yan Shixun up and down and asked, puzzled, “In the little idiot’s memory, humans have a phrase called ‘humblebrag.’ Aren’t you doing exactly that right now—humblebraging your height?”
Yan Shixun almost laughed from sheer exasperation. “If you can see Xiao Bing’s memories, then you should also know—he’s the one who always gets called out for acting ‘humblebrag.’”
“But now, you finally get a taste of what it feels like to be on the receiving end, right? :)”
The King of Hell: …How annoying!
The good mood he had just gained from clearing his view was completely ruined by the topic of height.
The worst part? He looked around and realized that out of the four of them, he was the shortest.
He immediately had the urge to drag that little idiot out and beat him up, wanting to ask why he always ended up taking the blame.
He had never once regretted or lamented his death back then—but for the first time now, he suddenly missed the past.
—At least, back then, he was a lot taller than this!
“Tch.”
The King of Hell gripped his folding fan in frustration.
But perhaps because of that very irritation, his gaze swept more sharply over the surroundings, eager to find something unusual—preferably a fierce ghost.
He really needed something to beat up and vent on.
Whether it was coincidence or that the nearby ghosts sensed the King of Hell’s violent energy, they encountered not a single ghost even as they approached the village.
The valley was deathly quiet. Only the night wind howled between the peaks, sounding like the wails of angry spirits.
The tall weeds swayed and rustled. The group left a line of footprints in the muddy ground, droplets of mud splashing onto the surrounding grass.
The King of Hell had to lift the hem of his long robe, clearly disgusted by the muddy terrain beneath his feet.
That was when he felt something solid under his cloth shoes.
“…Hmm?”
He stopped in confusion, trying to confirm what he felt. He cautiously applied more pressure with his foot.
“What is it?”
Yan Shixun halted as well and turned back to ask, “Did you see something?”
“No.”
The King of Hell’s expression gradually turned serious. “This shape… feels very familiar.”
“It’s very much like the curvature of a skull.”
“I was the King of Hell for several thousand years. I’m more familiar with this kind of thing than your human forensic experts. When I first saw human remains, those forensic experts’ great-grandfathers hadn’t even been born yet.”
As he spoke, the King of Hell bent down, pointing his folding fan at the muddy patch he had just stepped on.
A spinning wind blade cleared the mud to the side, revealing what had been hidden underneath.
Sure enough, buried there was a human skull.
The flesh had completely decayed, leaving behind stark white bone. Grass roots had grown out of the hollow, dirt-filled eye sockets, making the skull look especially ghastly against the dark earth.
What drew Yan Shixun’s attention, however, was the clearly visible crack on the top of the skull.
Though the crevice had been filled with soil, it distinctly outlined the trajectory of a violent impact. The fracture radiated outward from a central point, shattering even the hardest part of the skull.
This was obviously a fatal head injury from blunt force trauma.
Although it had been a long time, and the soil and insects had damaged much of the evidence, making it hard to determine whether the injury happened before or after death, Yan Shixun had his doubts.
According to the village chief’s story, the large-scale deaths here a century ago had been caused by an epidemic. Even if there were bones left over from that time, they shouldn’t have had such clear signs of external trauma.
Yan Shixun returned and squatted down beside the King of Hell, seriously inspecting the skull.
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wrapped it around his hand, and reached to lift the skull from the mud. He assumed that the rest of the bones would also be buried, so he applied extra force.
Unexpectedly, there were no other bones—only this single skull.
Caught off guard, Yan Shixun used too much strength and nearly fell backward.
Fortunately, Ye Li had been hovering nearby with his arms ready, worried something might happen. He bent down just in time to catch Yan Shixun in his arms, preventing him from falling into the mud.
The mud quickly flowed away, revealing a pair of empty eye sockets staring coldly and silently at Yan Shixun.
He ran his fingers gently over the wound on the skull, his heart sinking.
It really was blunt force trauma.
And whoever had done this must have used full force, clearly intending to kill. Who knew how much hatred they harbored toward the skull’s owner?
As these thoughts raced through his mind, Yan Shixun took the opportunity to scan the area, hoping to find more bones nearby.
But instead of limbs or torsos, what he saw were more skulls.
From his crouching angle, he could now see the base of the grass and the ground beneath—things that had been completely hidden while standing.
—In the soil half-covered by the grass, pale white skulls loomed faintly.
Some were still mostly buried, while others lay with empty sockets staring coldly ahead. A few had toppled sideways, like flowerpots in the grass, with weeds growing out from their jaws and nasal cavities.
Yan Shixun quickly counted three or four skulls with just a glance.
A chill crept up his spine.
Those skulls had been watching them the whole time as they walked through the grass—but they hadn’t noticed a thing. They had no idea these skulls had been silently lurking just beyond their field of vision.
Yan Shixun remained silent for a long time before finally speaking in a hoarse voice, “Why are there so many skulls outside an abandoned yizhuang?”
And only skulls.
All the other bones had vanished without a trace.
Moonlight spilled down.
The skulls lay quietly among the grass, their hollow eyes fixed on Yan Shixun, as if trying to tell him stories of the past, filled with resentment and fury.
Yan Shixun didn’t know what had really happened here, but he was beginning to suspect that the village chief’s story might not be entirely true.
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!
