Getting Chi You to jump into the Dragon Spring—that was the Fated One’s final goal.
Pushing Jiang Luo into the spring was to save him. But Chi You choosing to enter the Dragon Spring for Jiang Luo had nothing to do with the Fated One.
The spring and malicious ghosts were like moths to a flame. Chi You had a ninety percent chance of dying. If he was lucky, he might escape death but be left with severe injuries.
Watching Chi You jump into the spring, the Fated One finally let out a quiet breath of relief. But what followed was a wave of indescribable complexity.
He had known Jiang Luo was special to Chi You, but he’d still estimated the odds of Chi You risking his life at only thirty percent.
He hadn’t expected Chi You to go so far for him.
The Fated One momentarily fell into a daze—but he forgot that the troublesome undead on the shore hadn’t left. Caught off guard, Teng Bi suddenly drove his blade through the Fated One’s chest.
The Fated One looked down at the large sword piercing through him, raised his head to glance at Teng Bi, and unexpectedly gave a faint smile.
Teng Bi watched him warily, yanking the blade free to follow up with another attack, but the Fated One spoke coldly, “You are his last chance.”
With that, he looked deeply toward the pool. He had completed what he came to do. There was no need to remain. A moment later, he left the shikigami’s body.
The body clad in a Republican-era long gown abruptly collapsed backward, lifeless. Teng Bi jumped in shock, then stabbed the body several more times to confirm its death. When he turned around again, Chi You had already rolled onto the shore with Jiang Luo in his arms.
Chi You’s appearance now was terrifying—his form barely human. His entire body emitted a burnt, corrosive smoke, and the arms cradling Jiang Luo had already turned into bare white bones. Teng Bi was about to ask about Jiang Luo’s condition when he noticed the stiffness and slowness in Chi You’s movements.
He saw Chi You’s trembling hands and was struck by a sudden, chilling thought that made his entire body go cold.
His gaze shifted to Jiang Luo. Carefully, he called out, “Jiang Luo?”
But as the words left his mouth, Teng Bi realized his own voice was hoarse and trembling. An invisible dread was rapidly spreading through the cavern.
The black-haired youth lying on the ground didn’t react at all.
Teng Bi’s heart skipped violently. He forced a casual tone and raised his voice, “Jiang Luo.”
Still, only a suffocating silence replied.
The stillness was crushing. Like a storm pressing down on a glass surface, a weight descended into the chest, making it hard to breathe—as if suffocating from lack of oxygen.
Chi You was in agony, as if set ablaze. He looked down calmly at Jiang Luo, pressing his bony hands firmly against the youth’s chest.
Jiang Luo’s eyes remained closed. His expression was so peaceful, it was as if he had simply fallen asleep. Beads of water rolled down his face, landing on Chi You’s hand bones and hissing as they burned.
Jiang Luo’s body trembled slightly under the compressions, but his chest showed no rise or fall.
Rotting flesh fell in clumps from Chi You’s body onto Jiang Luo’s. The compressions weren’t working, so Chi You began pressing faster and faster.
Suddenly, he gripped Jiang Luo’s face, skeletal fingers leaving pale bruises on the side of his cheek, and bent down to breathe air into him.
The air was thick with the stench of blood, but the malicious ghost desperately forced air into him. Jiang Luo still showed no response.
He couldn’t feel anything—not pain, not breath.
Jiang Luo was dead.
Chi You was covered in blood and shredded flesh. His blood dripped steadily onto Jiang Luo, whose body was growing colder—colder even than the severely wounded malicious ghost holding him.
A tide of madness was surging beneath the surface.
Chi You pulled away from Jiang Luo’s lips. Teng Bi thought he saw the malicious ghost’s body trembling. In a low, hoarse voice, Chi You ordered, “Jiang Luo, speak.”
But a dead man—how could he answer?
The malicious ghost’s voice turned violent. He growled, “Speak!”
Suddenly going berserk, he clamped down on Jiang Luo’s jaw, forcing it open, yelling and roaring for him to talk. His voice was laced with panic and fear. The hand holding Jiang Luo began to shake uncontrollably.
A crushing sense of powerlessness gripped Chi You.
He had killed many people in his life and endured endless torment. But he had never tried to save anyone—and never suffered this kind of pain.
The agony of body and soul flayed him like a thousand knives, slicing him down to the bone.
Until finally, darkness enveloped his vision.
The moment he had jumped into the Dragon Spring, cradling Jiang Luo through the searing pain, he already knew—Jiang Luo was dead.
He held him close. His calm exterior began to crumble, bit by bit. But still, Chi You remained silent. That silence twisted in on itself, hiding a pain so sharp it threatened to tear him apart.
Suddenly, a searing hatred for the man in his arms flared up.
Chi You couldn’t control himself—he clutched Jiang Luo’s neck. He wanted to strangle him awake, to kill him with his own hands, to devour him whole. The grinding hate in his teeth made his voice rasp, “Jiang Luo, I hate you so much.”
His words dripped with bloodlust and bone-chilling malice. “If you’re really dead, I’ll turn this world into h*ll.”
“Everyone will die.”
Gently, he stroked Jiang Luo’s cheek with his bony hand. Though it still burned with pain, Chi You’s touch was tender, even lingering—completely at odds with the ice in his voice.
“I will kill everyone.”
Jiang Luo slept quietly.
“All your friends, everyone you care about, everything you like,” Chi You murmured to himself, “but if you wake up, I’ll agree to your previous request. How about that?”
Jiang Luo didn’t seem satisfied with his words and still gave Chi You no answer.
You’re really stubborn, Chi You thought.
He suddenly let out a couple of laughs, but they cut off abruptly.
The hatred and fury tangled in the depths of his heart surged madly. Chi You felt a pain so intense it was nearly unbearable, the kind of pain that made him feel as if he had died a second time.
“You once wanted me to suffer, but you failed,” Chi You said. “Now you’ve succeeded.”
Jiang Luo had fully taken his revenge, in a way that left Chi You wishing he were dead.
The malicious ghost held Jiang Luo in his arms. Even the air seemed to grow stagnant. The silence was suffocating. Teng Bi suddenly lifted his legs and staggered toward the malicious ghost and Jiang Luo.
Chi You, who was holding Jiang Luo, didn’t look at him. He seemed like a true statue now. The wounds covering his body left him on the verge of dissipating at any moment, yet he had no will to save himself.
He couldn’t accept the fact that Jiang Luo was dead.
Teng Bi stumbled to one knee, using his broadsword to prop himself up. Once he steadied himself, he suddenly spat out a mouthful of black blood. “Master, I can save Jiang Luo…”
The malicious ghost sharply turned to look at him, the bloody hollows where his eyes had nearly been gouged out exuding a terrifying menace.
Teng Bi’s face had turned purplish-blue at some point. His lips were black, and he stared straight into the malicious ghost’s eyes, breathing heavily. “The wound Lisa bit on me was poisoned—it just started acting up… Master, I can save Jiang Luo.”
His voice grew weaker with each word, but he still forced out every syllable: “I’m a living corpse. I’ve kept one last breath of life in me. If I give it to Jiang Luo, he’ll live.”
Teng Bi didn’t say what would happen to him after he gave away that breath—but for a living corpse, once the last breath is gone, of course, death follows.
After seeing Jiang Luo die, Teng Bi had been thinking of this method all along. He had wanted to give that breath to Jiang Luo immediately, but a strange hesitation held him back. It was odd, like he couldn’t bear to let go of something.
But once he realized he had been poisoned, Teng Bi made up his mind.
Living corpses were rare. That last breath of life lay buried in Teng Bi’s heart, sustaining its beat. All he needed to do was push it through his blood and feed it to Jiang Luo. Teng Bi believed Jiang Luo was different—he could become a living corpse with just that one breath.
Lisa’s poison was potent, but it wasn’t that Teng Bi couldn’t cure it. It was just—he had already come to see Jiang Luo as a friend. And also…
He suddenly thought of Lu Youyi.
Teng Bi silently mused.
If Jiang Luo died, Lu Youyi would be heartbroken.
But if it were him who died, it would be different.
To Lu Youyi, he was a traitor. A traitor’s death didn’t call for mourning.
After saying this aloud, Teng Bi let out a breath of relief—but also felt a bit of melancholy.
He didn’t know why he felt this way. As a living corpse, he should’ve had enough of life a long time ago.
The malicious ghost stared at him hard. After a few seconds, his voice hoarse, he asked, “What do you want?”
Teng Bi lowered his head. After a moment, he shook it.
The malicious ghost said, “I’ll fulfill the promise I once made to you.”
Teng Bi nodded slowly.
The poison was worsening, making Teng Bi’s mind sluggish and clouded. Not wanting to waste any more time, he said nothing further. He simply forced that breath of life from his heart into his arm, then made a small cut on his wrist with his broadsword. Blood gushed out.
The breath traveled from his heart to his wrist. Teng Bi raised his hand to Jiang Luo’s lips. The malicious ghost pried open Jiang Luo’s mouth, watching as the thick blood landed inside.
Once the breath had been transferred, Teng Bi collapsed to the ground, completely drained. The poison rapidly spread across his face. He gasped desperately for air, greedily trying to live just a few seconds longer, to hold out and see if Jiang Luo would wake up.
One second… two seconds… As Teng Bi’s vision began to blur, Jiang Luo slowly opened his eyes.
He didn’t know what had just happened. Dazed, he looked at Teng Bi lying in a pool of blood, a deathly pallor on his face. In a hoarse voice, he said, “Teng Bi?”
He was alive.
Teng Bi forced a weak smile. A sudden surge of deep reluctance rose within him. With trembling hands, he used his last strength to pass the broadsword to Jiang Luo. A tinge of regret hit him.
Not regret for saving Jiang Luo.
But regret that he hadn’t seen Lu Youyi one last time, hadn’t said the apology he’d meant to say.
Regret that when the malicious ghost asked him what he wanted, he only shook his head.
Teng Bi’s eyes lost their focus. His life force visibly faded away, but he still pressed on, saying, “Friend… give this to him. And help me… say a few words.”
Teng Bi’s body began to decay rapidly.
But his eyes remained calm and steady, unafraid of death, yet clinging to the living. It was as though he’d entered the most carefree stage of a ghost—rushing forward fearlessly, all for the sake of a friend.
“Sorry… Happy New Year.”
“If… never mind…”
The light in Teng Bi’s eyes dimmed completely. His wide, gray eyes stared blankly, and he breathed no more.
