Beneath the coffin was yet another chamber. Jiang Luo and the Fated One plummeted downward at high speed. During the fall, Jiang Luo clutched the Fated One tightly beneath him, using his body as a human cushion.
Surprisingly, the Fated One didn’t resist.
With a heavy thud, the two of them hit the ground.
The chamber was about ten meters tall—despite the human cushion, Jiang Luo still took a hard blow. Dizzy and dazed, he staggered up from the Fated One’s body, rubbed his forehead, and looked down. The body the Fated One had possessed was lying in a pool of blood, utterly still, with no signs of breath.
Dead.
But Jiang Luo knew—he would come back to life again soon.
There was no point in stabbing him a few more times. No matter how many times this person died, he would just revive again. Suppressing his murderous urge, Jiang Luo turned to survey his surroundings.
They were in a cave made of stone. The spot where they had fallen was a dark hole in the ceiling. Stalactites hung densely around the opening, with droplets of water slowly falling into a milky, murky pool below.
Upon seeing the pool, two words instantly surfaced in Jiang Luo’s mind: Dragon Spring.
His instinct told him—this was it.
Without hesitation, Jiang Luo yanked off his backpack, pulled a water bottle from the side pocket, and hurried to the pool’s edge to fill it. Just as he was about to screw the lid shut, a voice behind him chuckled and said:
“Is that little bit really enough?”
Jiang Luo turned his head. At some point, the Fated One had come back to life. He was now standing just behind Jiang Luo, so close he could reach out and touch him. He looked at the bottle in Jiang Luo’s hand and kindly advised:
“That won’t be nearly enough for what you need.”
Jiang Luo said coldly, “That’s none of your concern, Fated One.”
The Fated One sighed. “If I don’t help you, you’ll die.”
Jiang Luo let out a short, cold laugh and stood, screwing the lid on tightly. But just then, the Fated One extended a hand and gave Jiang Luo a gentle push.
Jiang Luo instinctively leaned back—but at the critical moment, he managed to grab the Fated One’s arm to stay balanced. Behind him was the Dragon Spring. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Fated One, what are you doing?”
Daoist Elder Wei He had warned him that the power of the Dragon Spring was immense and needed to be heavily diluted. When using the spring, all internal powers would be forcibly suppressed, to prevent internal energy riots during body tempering.
That warning had been repeated many times. Even the Fated One had never dared soak in pure Dragon Spring water. Pushing Jiang Luo into it now was practically murder.
The Fated One said gently, “I’m just trying to save you.”
Jiang Luo didn’t believe a word of it. He gripped the Fated One’s arm tightly to keep his balance. Unexpectedly, the Fated One didn’t resist—he even returned the grip on Jiang Luo’s wrist.
Then, in the next moment, the Fated One lifted his other hand and lightly removed the Yin-Yang hoop from Jiang Luo’s wrist.
With an air of casual indifference, he tossed the ring into the spring.
He paused for three seconds—then, finger by finger, loosened his grip on Jiang Luo’s hand.
Jiang Luo fell heavily into the pool.
The water instantly began to boil. A few droplets splashed onto the Fated One’s hand, scorching it painfully. But his expression didn’t change. Eyes lowered, he calmly watched Jiang Luo sink beneath the surface.
Jiang Luo’s nose and mouth were immediately submerged. The Dragon Spring surged and boiled violently around him, huge translucent bubbles rising to the surface. Agonizing pain exploded through every one of Jiang Luo’s nerves. Though the water only reached his chest, he had no strength left to drag himself out.
He thrashed in the water in unbearable pain. The more violently the surface churned, the further the Fated One took a slow step back.
He watched as Jiang Luo fainted the moment he hit the water, then was jolted awake by the suffocating pressure, struggling to surface for air.
Every cell in Jiang Luo’s body, soaked in the spring water, began to bleed. In the blink of an eye, he was a man drenched in blood. The Fated One knew all too well how excruciating this was. Body tempering meant remaking a mortal frame into one fit for divinity. Every bone shattered and reformed, every inch of flesh was flayed and rebuilt. It was far more painful than the divine power’s internal transformation.
For a moment, the Fated One actually hesitated.
He felt an unfamiliar pity for Jiang Luo, a fleeting compassion that made him instinctively reach out to help ease the suffering.
But halfway there, he slowly retracted his hand.
Suddenly, a bloodied hand shot out from the pool, seizing his ankle with a death grip.
Jiang Luo dragged himself halfway up the edge of the spring. His voice was broken and ragged:
“Are you… trying… to kill… me?”
The Fated One knelt on one knee, gently brushing back Jiang Luo’s hair and said softly, “Jiang Luo, I’m saving you.”
“You took half my power in one breath. It’s too strong—you can’t bear it,” he said. “Lian Chun helped reduce your suffering, yes, but it also caused your body to rot. You don’t have long left. A small amount of Dragon Spring won’t help you, Jiang Luo.”
“This is the only way you’ll survive,” he cradled Jiang Luo’s face, whispering, “Break, then rebuild. If you endure this, you’ll live.”
He was using the language of salvation to push Jiang Luo to death.
Jiang Luo felt like he wasn’t going to make it.
He had faced death many times—but never had it felt so close.
He couldn’t even speak anymore. It felt like he was being fried alive in molten oil, his nerves screaming in numb agony, his whole body convulsing and trembling out of control. He had only one clear thought: pain—so much pain he could die.
His face was soaked, not just with spring water, but with tears born from pain. His fingers, clutching at the Fated One’s hand, were losing strength. The Fated One pried them off one by one, and Jiang Luo passed out again, slipping back into the pool.
The Fated One watched him silently. The false god closed his eyes—and when he opened them again, they held only divine calm and impassivity.
No one could see the turmoil within him—except for the faint tightening of his fingers.
A loud crash suddenly rang out from behind.
The Fated One turned around—Teng Bi had leapt down, one hand gripping a broadsword, the other hauling the half-dead Lisa.
Teng Bi’s shoulders and back were covered in blood, pitted with wounds. Upon seeing the scene inside the cavern, his breathing grew harsh. He flung Lisa forcefully into a corner; her head slammed against the stone wall, and she passed out without even a groan.
Gripping his blade with both hands, Teng Bi’s face was filled with killing intent. Without saying a word, he charged straight at the Fated One.
Weapons clashed on the shore, but in the Dragon Spring, Jiang Luo was gradually losing strength, sinking to the bottom.
He had drowned once before.
But compared to now, that experience was nothing.
The Fated One claimed he was saving Jiang Luo, but Jiang Luo felt death would be a mercy.
The power of the Dragon Spring penetrated every pore. Jiang Luo could feel every inch of his body undergoing an immense transformation, but at the same time, he could sense life draining from him at an alarming rate.
It was as if a giant hand covered his nose and mouth, pressing him to the bottom, the cold piercing his bones.
He thought—he might really die this time.
The sounds of battle between the Fated One and Teng Bi on the shore reached his ears, bits of rock splashing into the spring. But Jiang Luo felt no hope. He knew Teng Bi couldn’t beat the Fated One.
He had underestimated him.
Even with half his power taken and seriously injured, the Fated One’s counterattacks were still impossible to defend against.
His lungs were starved of oxygen, and the pain clung to him like a parasite. The torment Jiang Luo had endured in these past two weeks was the most frequent and intense he’d experienced in his life. A weaker person would’ve already died from the pain.
This time, Jiang Luo bled again—but no ghost was there with cold hands to wipe it away.
They say people see their life flash before their eyes when they’re near death. Maybe it was a hallucination from the lack of oxygen, but Jiang Luo began seeing memories from his past.
From childhood to adulthood—there were moments of joy and sorrow. Scenes of celebrating with crowds, but even more of himself alone. Monotonous drafting work at the design institute, a lone lighter sitting on his computer desk. Familiar friends and unfamiliar strangers flashed past one by one, until the image finally stopped—on the face of the ghost.
A sudden wave of bitterness and unwillingness surged in Jiang Luo’s chest.
The emotion was so intense it made his teeth tremble. Before the pain and suffocation of death, feelings he had never fully confronted surged wildly, breaching his emotional dam and shattering his calm and rational front in an instant.
Curled up, his fingers trembling, Jiang Luo clenched his teeth.
And in that moment, he finally understood how he felt about the ghost.
The feelings he had deliberately ignored, the surrender he refused to admit—were now completely clear in the face of death.
A deep sorrow surged into his throat. He thought, So I really did fall for him.
But… he was supposed to break up with Chi You.
How laughable, how pathetic.
His stubbornness had delayed this realization, but now that he understood—even whether they stayed together or broke up—he would never see Chi You again.
——
At the foot of the mountain.
Chi You felt inexplicably restless. He paced back and forth at the base, his once graceful steps growing more and more agitated.
As time passed, the sense of unease in his heart didn’t fade—it grew heavier.
Chi You actually felt… anxious.
Noticing this in himself, Chi You almost laughed aloud—Ridiculous. How could I possibly feel anxious?
But the moment his lips curled into a smile, it froze. The ghost’s mouth couldn’t lift another inch. He finally stopped lying to himself. Striding toward the mountain path, he looked up at the towering Dawu Mountain. His handsome face was expressionless, the absence of emotion making him terrifying.
The air was dry. Hearts were restless. It felt like something big was about to happen.
Chi You’s lips pressed into a thin line.
Just as his growing agitation became visibly apparent, the three birthmarks on his waist suddenly grew hot.
Chi You froze.
The marks burning meant—his “other half” was in a life-or-death situation.
Chi You’s eyes darkened in an instant. Without a word, the black mist behind him surged forth, wrapping around him. He turned into a cloud of shadow and raced up Dawu Mountain without hesitation.
***
Back in the Dragon Spring, the turbulence was subsiding.
Teng Bi had a terrible feeling. Gritting his teeth, he forced his way through one of the Fated One’s strikes and rushed to the pool, reaching in to pull Jiang Luo out.
But the moment his hand touched the milky water, pain jolted through him and he recoiled—his hand had been stripped to bare bone.
Sweat drenched Teng Bi’s face, veins bulging on his neck as he cradled his ruined hand, shouting in pain, “Jiang Luo!”
Instinct told him—this spring water was a deadly substance. If he dared to enter, he would die without a trace.
The Fated One didn’t take the opportunity to strike him. He also looked toward the spring, a flicker of complex emotion in his eyes. “This is the most potent part of the dragon vein. It suppresses evil better than anything. You can’t save him.”
Teng Bi clenched his teeth and used all his strength to fish for Jiang Luo with his broadsword. “Jiang Luo!”
The Fated One frowned and yanked him back from the spring. “You shouldn’t disturb him right now.”
“AAAAHHHH!!”
Teng Bi roared with red eyes, then reversed his grip and thrust the blade fiercely toward him. “I’ll kill you!”
The Fated One lightly leapt back to avoid it—then suddenly looked up at the black hole above.
A pale black mist drifted down through the hole. The thin fog barely the size of a person landed, dispersed—and revealed the ghost, Chi You, cloaked in shadow.
The Fated One stared intently at Chi You, emotions flashing rapidly in his eyes.
Chi You had finally arrived.
Teng Bi couldn’t believe Chi You had made it to the deepest part of the Dragon Vein. But right now, he had no time to be surprised. Clinging to him like a drowning man to a reed, he hurriedly shouted, “Master, Jiang Luo is in the water!”
The malicious ghost appeared largely unscathed on the surface, but his complexion was far paler than usual, and his eyes were tinged with a blood-red hue.
Without sparing Teng Bi or the Fated One a single glance, he strode straight to the pool’s edge. Saying nothing, he leapt directly into the spring.
