Chapter 70

Xue Tong was half-kneeling on the ground. To hold an umbrella over her, Xun Ruosu had one leg submerged in the rainwater. Her constitution was sensitive to the cold, and she was nursing a slight cough. Xue Tong couldn’t keep up the pretense much longer. She slowly opened her eyes. Amid the fine curtain of rain, she saw Xun Ruosu crying.

A single teardrop hung silently from her chin. Xun Ruosu’s eyes were a bit red at the corners, but her expression didn’t show much grief. It was as if the tears were simply physiological, from staring for too long.

The dormitory corridor lights were on, casting a warm yellow glow that fell over Xun Ruosu. She didn’t ask about the Buddhist seal or the heavenly thunder. She simply gazed at Xue Tong, her brows slightly furrowed. “Does it hurt?”

“It’s not that bad,” Xue Tong said. She reached out and caught the tear on Xun Ruosu’s chin. “How are you still alive?”

“That’s what I want to ask you,” Xun Ruosu said with a huff of laughter. “The seventh heavenly thunder packs a serious punch, and you still had time to undo the Buddhist seal? My ancestors aren’t the forgiving type—backlash like that can’t be pleasant, right?”

Xue Tong wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth. “It’s manageable.”

“The cage holding you was nearly shattered, and you call that manageable?” Xun Ruosu’s face plainly said she wasn’t buying it.

She pointed at the shadow on the ground. It was midnight without moonlight, the rain falling in endless strands. The only light came from the dormitory corridor’s old incandescent bulbs, their yellow tint feeble even when all were lit. The glow on Xun Ruosu was faint at best, too weak to cast a shadow in such a rainy night.

Yet beneath Xue Tong’s feet loomed a shadow as dark and heavy as ink—a massive cage. Countless chains rose from within it, seemingly bound to Xue Tong’s body. They swayed with her movements. But if one looked only at Xue Tong herself, apart from the shadow, there was no sign of any burden.

In the shadow, the cage imprisoning Xue Tong bore a deep gash, and the chains showed signs of damage. Xun Ruosu reached out and helped her to her feet. “Let’s head back inside and talk.”

This heavenly thunder striking the fierce ghost felt off-kilter, not its usual quick-and-done routine. Each bolt came down with deliberate gravity, less like an execution and more like a vetting process.

By now, Xun Ruosu had regained her memories. She’d seen heavenly thunder like this before—back when Xue Tong had succeeded as Lord of the Tenth Hall, enduring just such a barrage.

In the mortal world, landing a job meant resumes, written tests, interviews. Some companies dragged it out with multiple rounds. Even if you passed them all, salary negotiations could still fall through. Xue Tong’s gig paid top dollar, covered all living expenses, and came with an iron rice bowl that lasted centuries. The boss overhead could rant all they wanted; work two days, rest three; take leave whenever. Under the rules, there were always loopholes to exploit… A plum job like that didn’t just drop into anyone’s lap.

Becoming a lord of the Ten Halls required two conditions: a body brimming with sins, for which one had to forge a self-imposed prison, and nine bolts of heavenly thunder—one for each, no exceptions.

Before Xue Tong, the Tenth Hall had tested other candidates. Some lacked the resolve and quit by the third bolt. Others drowned too deeply in sin to restrain themselves. Only Xue Tong—

On Contemplation Cliff, amid lightning’s weave and marrow-melting agony, she had walked forward without looking back.

Xue Tong was drenched now. Fortunately, it was a women’s dormitory, with a space heater in the drawer. Xun Ruosu blow-dried her hair while listening to her explain: “It’s unorthodox methods, sure. But he’s already piled high with sins, and Huang Xiaoran’s cage contains them all. Just two more bolts, and he can take my place.”

Unorthodox indeed. The Masked Man needed vast knowledge to understand the prerequisites for becoming Lord of the Tenth Hall. He also needed time to orchestrate everything, fulfilling those conditions himself. The Heavenly Dao was unforgiving; even blatant loopholes had to be executed flawlessly to gain approval. He’d clearly poured immense effort into this scheme.

When the sixth bolt had struck, Xue Tong had felt a flicker of familiarity. But Xun Ruosu’s situation had flared up then—her pre-reincarnation memories surfacing and even sharing with Xue Tong. That fleeting sense was overshadowed by the thrill of White Moonlight enduring thunder for her sake. Xue Tong got distracted and never followed up.

After finishing her tale, Xue Tong asked Xun Ruosu, “If I weather the last two bolts too, the Tenth Hall can’t have two lords, right?”

“It won’t,” Xun Ruosu said, gathering a lock of Xue Tong’s hair in her palm. “The ninth heavenly thunder will shatter the cage you forged. You’ve accumulated karmic obstacles for over a millennium. Once it’s broken, the sins will devour you, turning you into the great demon lord. Then it’ll be everyone’s duty to band together and eliminate you—for the good of the realm.”

With that, Xun Ruosu let out a mock sigh. “I’ll have no choice but to put righteousness above family.”

“Righteousness my foot!” Xue Tong whipped around. Xun Ruosu’s hand gripped the roots of her long hair, nearly yanking out a bald patch.

Xue Tong hissed in pain. “I hate you!”

“Thanks for the effort in hating me,” Xun Ruosu said, turning her head back into position. “Don’t squirm. I’m blow-drying it—don’t want to scorch your scalp.”

Xue Tong pouted, muttering as she straightened up.

“I’m about to get replaced, turn against you all, and become the final boss, and that’s your reaction?” Xue Tong was annoyed but didn’t dare mess with her hair again. “If you try putting righteousness above family, I’ll drag us both down with me.”

“There’s a knife in the drawer, fabric right next to you. Stab or strangle—your pick,” Xun Ruosu replied coolly. “I’m just flesh and blood; no need for mutual destruction on my end.”

“…”

Qin Yu sat seriously on the chair nearby. She was young, still growing, her height a bit short. Even seated, her legs dangled. She looked gravely at Xue Tong. “Looks like my choice back then was right. You two get along so well.”

“Don’t act like it’s all your doing,” Xun Ruosu snapped, not sparing even herself. “Our pre-reincarnation memories are linked. You’re the one without a shred of humanity, so it must’ve been my idea.”

Calling someone inhuman sounded like an insult, but Xun Ruosu was merely stating a plain fact—no bias, no malice.

Qin Yu fell silent for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

The Masked Man was in the room too. He’d walked in himself. Watching others struggle amid his applause was a twisted hobby of his. Besides, it was raining outside—not that he could die didn’t mean he couldn’t catch a cold. With everyone powerless against him, he stayed wherever was most comfortable.

The Masked Man was thrilled with how things were going. He started to grin—until Xun Ruosu called out, “Son of Impermanence, squash him.”

A massive claw slammed down on the Masked Man, wiping the smile from his face and nearly bringing physiological tears to his eyes.

Xun Ruosu dominated the room. Even Xue Tong couldn’t believe how ruthless Xun Saint Mother was being today… Clearly, she was still fuming over Xue Tong undoing the Buddhist seal without consulting her.

“Let’s figure out how to handle this,” Xue Tong said, steering the conversation elsewhere. She even poked Xun Ruosu’s waist playfully. “If we don’t, I’m doomed.”

After the poke, Xue Tong added, “Once I undid the Buddhist seal, you should’ve dropped dead on the spot. That body was unusable, leaving only three souls and seven po. How are you still kicking?”

She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. Wasn’t that just shoving herself onto the firing line? Not thorough enough with the anger?

“The instant I regained my memories, I stopped being just your half-body. I became hers too.” Xun Ruosu nodded at Qin Yu. “Until she returns to the Underworld, she’s not complete. We share a set of three souls and seven po.”

Back on Contemplation Cliff, only one set of three souls and seven po had emerged. Thus, the original body needed the Heavenly Dao’s protection to enter reincarnation, while the souls and po crossed the Wangchuan River like any mortal’s. That was the Tenth Hall’s duty, but to avoid alerting Xue Tong, Jiang Changting had overstepped his bounds. He broke the rules and was punished with three hundred years of blindness.

Xun Ruosu’s father had once used flesh, bone, and soul as a vessel to slay malicious ghosts, damaging his soul and leaving merits incomplete. That led to a short life and the curse of the Heavenly Lone Star. Without three souls and seven po, Xun Ruosu’s original body turned karmic obstacles to merits but accumulated none. Either half alone would’ve meant a miserable reincarnation.

Now, hardship’s end was in sight. Sharing three souls and seven po, plus past-life memories, kept them both alive.

Xue Tong touched where the Buddhist seal had been, a tangle of mixed feelings and jealousy rising in her.

“I’ve already messaged Jiang Changting on your phone to bring Huang Xiaoran over,” Xun Ruosu said, switching off the hairdryer and giving Xue Tong’s hair a final smooth. “If we can shift her sins back to their original owner before the ninth heavenly thunder strikes, we can spare you this ordeal.”

Then Xun Ruosu glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. “By my count, they should be here soon.”

Ten minutes later, Jiang Changting indeed crammed a car full of people into the cramped dormitory. The space, never large, was now packed. Xue Tong eyed the extras beyond Huang Xiaoran: Zhong Li, Zhong Wei, and Yuan Jie, the old monk from Soaring Firmament Temple. She seriously wondered how Jiang Changting’s car had fit them all.

Someone riding shotgun on the roof in the wind and rain?

Zhong Li’s presence made sense. Zhong Wei’s was a bit impulsive. But Yuan Jie joining the party baffled her most… Soaring Firmament Temple consoling victims’ families after the 302 highway incident?

“The nunnery where we keep the ever-burning lamps suddenly grew restless today,” Yuan Jie explained. “This poor monk checked three times—morning, noon, and night. By the third, half the lamps had gone out. I knew something was wrong. Zhong Li had left her number with me earlier at the nunnery. I meant to leverage the Zhong Family’s pull in Clear Canal County to find you, but luck was on our side.”

“Amitabha,” Yuan Jie chanted. “Extinguishing one lamp before unsettled Soaring Firmament Mountain. Half snuffed out? Of course I worried.”

His concern wasn’t unfounded. Along the way here, ghosts wailed and demons ran wild, especially in remote graveyards—utter chaos, leaping about. It looked like they were waiting for Xue Tong to expire, poised to rampage with all the souls lingering in the mortal realm, unready for reincarnation.