Chapter 23: Core Formation (Part 3)

◎The rain outside continued to fall◎

The moment her words ended, a violet bolt of lightning split the night sky. Heaven and Earth were, for an instant, as bright as day.

The young girl standing before her had dark, deep eyes, finely etched by the lightning, her hair flying wildly. There was clearly a smile on her face, yet it was eerily cold and stern.

The light faded. A moment of silence pressed down like the black sky itself. Yun Jinxue heard her own heartbeat, the thudding painfully shaking her chest.

A beat slower than the lightning, the thunder rolled in.

Amidst the rumbling that nearly drowned all other sound, Yun Jinxue asked, “Why are you suddenly asking about this?”

Her voice seemed swallowed by the earth, her lips moving in an empty waste, falling on barren ears. Yet the girl across from her seemed to hear.

When the thunder ceased and the world fell silent, Jiang Yanyu finally said, “I heard that among all devil beings, Thousand-Mile Icebound is the most powerful. So, I’m curious.”

Scattered raindrops bloomed on the dirt road. At first, just one or two isolated strikes. In the time it took one to look up at the sky, the deluge arrived, lashing at faces and heads.

Because of that girl’s words, though the rain was now pouring, her heart had settled somewhat.

Curiosity about the strong—it was a normal mentality. Her mentioning it was probably just coincidence.

Yun Jinxue said, “About this devil being… what I can tell you is probably just that she’s very powerful.”

Jiang Yanyu: “Very strong?”

Yun Jinxue: “Mm.”

Jiang Yanyu: “Very formidable?”

Yun Jinxue: “Mm.”

Jiang Yanyu: “How formidable?”

Yun Jinxue: “Mm… Enough to obliterate the world.”

The force of a Heavenly Calamity—it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it world-ending.

However, while the original book gave the villain this devil-being setting, reading the whole story, she only ever used that devil power twice: once to overthrow Hall Master Pan Bohun, and once in the grand finale, sending a millennium-long snowstorm.

The villain, as a person, was skilled at psychological warfare. She thoroughly enjoyed toying with others in the palm of her hand, sitting in the shadows while the show unfolded on the stage, secretly stirring the winds and clouds.

She also delighted in seizing victory by playing within the rules others had set, leaving them speechless.

Otherwise, with her ability, to kill Yan Guixing, why bother with all that back-and-forth scheming?

Just scatter a handful of ice and snow over the Divine Zenith Sect. A century of freezing cold—how could mortal flesh endure that?

Toying with prey, luring them deeper, trapping them within an inch of her domain and slowly torturing them—that was her preference.

As for why a devil-being setting had to be slapped onto the villain, Yun Jinxue felt the hack author who wrote this cultivation novel surely did it just for a cool, buzzword-heavy-sounding title. He must have been dizzy with enthusiasm when he added that stroke.

What an utterly unnecessary stroke!

Hearing her Senior Sister’s answer, Jiang Yanyu seemed satisfied. “So such wonders truly exist in this world. To possess such formidable power… truly makes one yearn.”

The word “wonders” was fitting. Devil beings were the favored children of the Heavenly Dao. Calling them natural wonders was very fitting.

Yan Guixing’s gaze lowered, settling on Bright Star in her Senior Sister’s hand. Watching the faint, flowing light over the sword’s body, she said, “That is ordained by Heaven. We mortals must hone ourselves and seek our own path to transcendence.”

Yun Jinxue cheered loudly in her heart: As expected of the female lead! So righteous!

Just as she was about to launch another round of praise, she suddenly heard a strange noise in the silent night, like the tearing of flesh or the crunching of bone.

Yun Jinxue followed the sound. In the crown daisy thicket, about five zhang away, she saw a dilapidated temple.

The temple looked truly ancient. Wall plaster was peeling off, the roof had several large holes crudely covered with black cloth, and the window hung half-open, about to fall, revealing a hazy lamplight within.

There it was!

Her heart lifted. Yun Jinxue pressed her thumb against the sword guard, ready to draw at any moment. “Let’s go. We’re going in.”

As they neared the temple, the sound became clearer. Someone should be eating inside.

But the doors and windows were open, yet no smell drifted out. Who knew what was being eaten?

Pushing deeper into the thicket, they couldn’t see what was underfoot. Before long, they stepped on shattered tiles, the crunching growing louder and more frequent.

The unpeeled red lacquer on the walls was dark as clotted blood. At the base of the wall, an overturned incense burner had spilled ash everywhere.

Looking through the wide-open main doors, one could see a majestic general god statue, armed with sword and shield, clad head-to-toe in golden armor. Beneath its altar platform, three pine-torch lamps burned.

Wind streamed through the window, making the flames flicker and dance, swaying the shadow of the person beneath the statue along with them.

The man, his back to the door, had his hair loose, dry, matted, and hard. His robe was gray and old, torn in several places, revealing an emaciated, dark, thin body.

He was bent over, eating like a famished dog, holding something in both hands, biting and gnawing. Blood dripped onto the floor—pitter-patter, pitter-patter.

Even without seeing how he ate, just listening to those sounds, one could vividly imagine the tearing and gulping.

Yun Jinxue’s knuckles tightened. She pushed the sword guard up, stepped over the threshold and into the temple, saying, “It’s pouring outdoors. Would you mind sharing a bit of space for us three to shelter from the rain?”

The man stopped his tearing bites and let out a burp. Seeming to wipe his lips on his sleeve, he replied, “Do you love roast chicken?”

Jiang Yanyu jumped in. “Of course.”

The man said, “Do you love fat rats?”

Jiang Yanyu frowned, a bit disgusted. “That’s a no.”

The man continued, “Do you love dry grass? Do you love yellow earth?”

Jiang Yanyu said, “If you can’t hold a proper conversation, you can just shut up.”

Yan Guixing looked at her in surprise. The situation was clearly strange; who knew what kind of monster this was? How was she so calm?

But looking at her Senior Sister’s back ahead, she then felt it was only natural. Yes, with her here, she herself wasn’t really panicked either.

This little thing truly feared neither heaven nor earth. Yun Jinxue sighed inwardly, slowly gathering spiritual energy at her fingertips. She spoke again, “We’ve already eaten. We’re not hungry.”

Reminded by this, Jiang Yanyu remembered she hadn’t finished her rice cake. She pulled it out from her robe, unwrapped the paper, and started eating.

The gray-robed man sighed softly when he heard this. His arms, thin as bamboo sticks, pushed against the ground as he stood up.

“What a pity… what a pity…” He turned around, his hair covering his face, and tottered out. “What a pity…”

Yun Jinxue shifted aside and watched him slowly walk out.

This thing was just the demonic creature’s illusory decoy, not its true form. The real body was inside that clay statue atop the altar platform. She had to wait for the statue to move before striking.

The gray-robed, loose-haired man walked out step by step. The instant he left, the previously wide-open temple doors slammed shut with a BANG.

At that exact moment, Bright Star left its sheath. The blade stabbed toward the doors, but it felt as if it had plunged into tough, elastic flesh—unable to pierce through, it bounced back.

Catching Bright Star, Yun Jinxue turned to face the sacred statue.

Inside the temple, nothing seemed to have changed, yet it was inexplicably colder. The three pine-torch flames also seemed to have turned a faint blue.

Perhaps sensing the person below was not easy prey, it didn’t seem willing to come out.

Yun Jinxue took out a thin rope and gave one end to each of the two little ones behind her, while she wound a loop in the middle. She spoke toward the altar platform, “Still won’t come out?”

Having tied the loop and holding it in hand, Yun Jinxue looked back and said softly to the two, “In a moment, I’ll tell you to pull the rope tight. You’ll need to use your spiritual power. Stand firm, don’t let go. Understood?”

Both nodded.

After briefing them, Yun Jinxue chuckled lightly and addressed the statue again, “If you still don’t come out, you won’t be able to go home~”

The reason the fish in that statue was able to cultivate into a demon was that it had once devoured several wayward spirits of home-bound souls who had stayed overnight in the temple.

About thirty-odd years ago, several men from Pingyao who had been displaced by war finally got the chance to go home. They packed their bags at once and rushed back through the night.

They wore out many pairs of straw sandals before finally entering the Qianzhou border. As they walked through Bent Wing Ridge, a sudden downpour forced them to take shelter in this abandoned temple.

Exhausted from their journey, they all fell asleep, dreaming, it seemed, of reuniting with their families, murmuring blissfully. They never imagined that sleep would be their last.

The fish that swallowed these home-bound souls became a demon. It escaped a death by desiccation, gained sentience, and appeared and disappeared within Bent Wing Ridge, as if it had been granted new life.

But those men, slaughtered practically on their own doorsteps, could never rest. Within that sacred statue were therefore also molded the lingering fragments of those souls.

Day and night, they fought with the fish demon for control of the statue’s body. They were too weak to succeed, but causing trouble at a critical moment was more than enough.

And the words they could least bear to hear were “go home.”

As expected, the moment it heard Yun Jinxue’s words, the statue’s face twisted frantically. Its whole body cracked and popped, fine dust falling to pile up around it.

Yun Jinxue raised Bright Star and began spinning the rope loop with her other hand. “Get ready.”

The statue suddenly let out a roar, wrenched its feet free with force, and staggered down from the altar platform. When its feet hit the ground, the floor seemed to tremble.

The rope loop flew out, catching the statue right around the head. The two behind her immediately braced, pulling the rope taut and channeling in their spiritual power.

An electric flash ran along the rope. The statue howled in agony. The curtain fluttered in the wind, and by chance, thunder boomed outside, rumbling in. Blue firelight danced wildly throughout the temple—utterly eerie.

Two fingers raised before her chest, Yun Jinxue murmured an incantation, sending Bright Star flying out to slash at the statue.

Every time the blade contacted the statue’s body, it was like scraping against metal—a piercing sound, sparks flying everywhere. At the same time, scales lifted and curled from its surface, instantly shaved off by Bright Star, scattering onto the ground.

The statue shrieked, swinging its massive sword, but trapped by the rope loop, it couldn’t move.

Yun Jinxue turned back to check on the two. Yan Guixing’s expression was focused, her technique entirely in line with her teachings, her full attention on the rope and the demon statue’s condition.

Jiang Yanyu, meanwhile, was eating her rice cake, holding the rope with just one hand, occasionally amused by the statue’s ridiculous postures.

But even so, her grip on the rope was incredibly steady. Several times it nearly slipped free, but she easily pulled it back each time, a picture of relaxed ease.

The little villain’s training was coming along nicely.

Half the demonic creature’s body was in the head, half in the neck. The rope loop, draped around it, coupled with spiritual energy, acted just like a giant hand choking the creature, preventing any movement so it could only take the punishment.

In the original book, Elder Yan He had relied on experience and observation to devise this method for extermination.

Using it here was like answering a test after seeing the answer key first—so much easier.

Sword-light flashed through the temple; lightning flickered outside. Wind and rain howled, thunder roared. Rainwater streamed in through the holes in the roof, pattering down, collecting in small puddles.

After about half an hour, the statue no longer roared or slashed wildly. The sounds gradually died away.

Still in the form of the mighty general, it collapsed to its knees, riddled with blood, its blade-tip planted in the ground. The shorn scales covered the floor, reflecting crystalline light.

Seeming to calm down, only its face still writhed in struggle.

Yun Jinxue reined in her surging spiritual power, walked over, and blasted the head apart with one palm strike, revealing a fish head with blood-red eyes.

The split fish mouth was full of sharp fangs. Blood bubbles rose from deep in its throat. Its eyes, round and crimson, stared fixedly at the silver-robed immortal who had taken its cultivation and its life.

Yun Jinxue asked, “Where are my sect’s six disciples?”

The fish, however, laughed. It was the gray-robed man’s voice from before, but now broken and gasping for breath. “I ate them long ago! You’re too late!”

Yun Jinxue nodded. This had been known all along; she wasn’t surprised. Without wasting words, she drove a dagger into its forehead and dug out a blood-soaked demon core.

Thunder boomed again. The entire temple seemed to lose its support, collapsing in an instant. Dust rose but was quickly beaten down by the heavy rain.

Glancing at the headless statue kneeling before her, Yun Jinxue gripped the demon core. It felt like holding a hard-boiled egg—fiercely hot.

“What is that? Senior Sister.” A query came from behind.

Yun Jinxue turned, her hand naturally falling to her side. The outermost layer of white gauze on her robe drifted down, covering it from sight. “Nothing.”

Perhaps because she had a guilty conscience, Yun Jinxue didn’t dare meet her eyes.

Jiang Yanyu was silent for a beat, then smiled. “Is that so.”

She comforted herself. She couldn’t possibly know about this demon core’s existence. Yet the mere casual nature of her question was already enough to shake one’s spirit.

Yun Jinxue looked at the little female lead beside her. She felt the demon core growing hotter and hotter.

Amid the lightning and thunder, the light in Jiang Yanyu’s eyes gradually deepened.

“Senior Sister.” Yan Guixing stood at the original temple entrance, pointing in a certain direction. “There…”

Following her gaze, they saw within the crown daisy thicket several jade-green, luminous souls walking forward.

They were the home-bound souls from over thirty years ago—the first to be devoured.

Those walking at the front were more solid in color, their steps relatively steady. Though most of their sentience was gone, they still remembered what they had to do before dying, and quickly vanished into the night.

But the youth trailing at the back of the group was exceptionally weak. His soul flickered in and out of sight. The rain was so heavy it seemed about to wash him away.

Yan Guixing reached out, wanting to use her spiritual power to hold an umbrella for him.

But controlling the demon earlier had drained her nearly dry. That umbrella existed for just a few seconds before it was about to fade.

Just before that last wisp of spiritual power vanished, a larger umbrella appeared, sheltering the youth from all the wind and rain.

Yun Jinxue ruffled the little female lead’s hair. “Let me do it. Let’s walk him home together.”

And so, the three of them followed that wandering soul all the way to a small village outside Pingyao Town.

Even shielded from the rain, after traveling so long, the soul had grown increasingly faint.

The small rural village was exceptionally quiet, with the occasional bark of a dog.

Because of the heavy rain, the small paths were extremely muddy. But luckily, he couldn’t be tripped up anymore.

The soul didn’t try to recognize anything; it simply walked by memory. Thus, slowly, it arrived before a low, squat earthen house and stopped at the wooden door.

An awning was built above the door, shielding it from the rain. The sporadic curtain of rain fell behind him.

He seemed to breathe softly, or perhaps it was a sigh.

After a long silence, he raised a hand and knocked.

Knock, knock-knock-knock.

A voice came from inside. “Who is it?”

The door opened. The soft breeze it created passed right through the youth’s spirit body.

This breeze was incredibly faint, yet it was enough to make the wandering soul—who had used up the last of its vitality on the journey home—disperse in that very instant.

The old woman poking her head out wore a headscarf and a printed dust coat, her back severely hunched.

She looked all around but saw no one. But she didn’t go back inside. Instead, she asked tentatively, “Is it Yangyang?”

“Cough, cough. Must be getting senile, huh, you.”

The old man walked out with his hands clasped behind his back and glanced around outside. “Yangyang’s been gone for thirty years now. You can’t keep carrying on like this just ’cause you miss him.”

The old woman rubbed her eyes. Aged as she was, the years had piled up at the corners of her eyes into mountainous wrinkles, robbing her of the ability to hold back tears.

Just the faintest breeze was enough to make her eyes damp, turning them into a small, ancient lake.

With her bow legs, the old woman slowly walked to the doorway, looking up and down, trying to find any trace at all.

“It can’t be. In our family, only Yangyang used to knock like that.”

The old man said loudly, “Get inside, quick. Look how hard it’s raining. What if it splashes in?”

The old woman’s back sagged, her gaunt hands groping along the door. “I heard him.”

The old man said, “Stop with your superstitious nonsense. Hurry and come in now. You’ll freeze out here and fall ill.”

The door held only the wood grain texture she’d been looking at her whole life. The old woman gave up. She went inside, found a wooden stick, and propped the door open.

The old man let out an “Aiyo.” “Look, look. The old lady’s lost her mind.”

“I heard him.” The old woman was inexplicably stubborn. She went into the kitchen and brought out a small plate of sweet garlic, setting it by the door.

The old man fumed, “What a waste. The rats’ll run off with it later.”

The old woman rolled up her sleeves and leaned against the doorframe, smiling warmly. “What if Yangyang comes back to shelter by the door from the rain? He’s been away so long, he must be homesick.”

“You’re always letting your thoughts run wild.” The old man opened the pot cover on the stove and, among the pile of mixed-grain buns, picked out one made of white flour.

“Then we’ll add a steamed bun. Otherwise, eating garlic on an empty stomach’ll give him heartburn.”

The old woman took the bun and placed it in the little dish. She looked again toward the end of the village path, unable to help wondering.

Would he come back?

Or had he already returned?

The rain outside continued to fall.