After the Kunlun divine mountain vanished without a trace, later ages were left only with those romantic, magnificent legends of seeking elixirs. Whether it was the Qin First Emperor or Emperor Wu of Han, they all returned empty-handed from the path of immortality. Later cultivators may have refined the Nine-Cycle Elixir of Immortality, but how many ever truly attained longevity? Those on the path of cultivation could perhaps extend their years… but for ordinary mortals, obtaining such heaven-and-earth fortune was unrealistic. More often, they resorted to a parasitic evil art to extend their own lives at others’ expense.
“I followed the trail all the way here. I didn’t expect there to be a battle formation,” Wang Xuanming said, not noticing the expressions on Fu Juan and Jiang Yiguang’s faces. Recalling what had just happened, he still felt lingering fear. If he hadn’t been carrying a life-preserving magical artifact, he might have met his end in that formation. But how could there be a battle formation in this wilderness? Surely not a reawakened General Soul hiding here? After composing himself, Wang Xuanming asked, “So why are you two here? Are you investigating something too?”
Fu Juan answered, “There’s a Yin ghost causing trouble in the city. An old lady consumed an evil item for Life Extension. Her condition isn’t good.”
“A ghost entity?” Wang Xuanming’s eyelid twitched. He frowned. “But what I saw was a Daoist, over half a century old.”
Jiang Yiguang sneered. “Maybe the ghost is being raised by the Daoist? Or perhaps that Daoist is just the Yin ghost’s pawn.”
Fu Juan nodded seriously.
Since they were heading in the same direction and it was all connected to “life,” it was very likely the same case.
Wang Xuanming added, “The evil Daoist and the Yin ghost are both hiding within the battle formation. That’s going to be tricky.” He pulled out his phone from his pocket, tapped a few times, and let out a long sigh. “The fellow Daoists here in Jiang City aren’t numerous. The battle formation is currently bound within its ‘domain,’ but if the General Soul ever loses its obsession, won’t it be able to take the entire army and march out?” Different levels of ghosts had different ranges of movement. For example, a thousand-year Ghost King was practically unbound, while Ghost Soldiers were trapped at their place of death. But it was all fundamentally tied to their obsession. Ghosts maintained a single point of True Spirit intact through obsession. Even without restraints, they wouldn’t enjoy traveling far, unless something else was driving them from behind.
“I’m afraid something like what happened at Southern Mountain might happen again,” Wang Xuanming said before falling silent.
Jiang Yiguang’s eyelid twitched. Merely mentioning Southern Mountain made her furious. That had practically been a “Hell-level dungeon.” Could it be that all future dungeons would be this difficult? Fate was truly unfathomable. If someone without Qi Luck got tangled in those events, wouldn’t they have been beaten to death long ago? “How about we just—” The words “go back” hadn’t even left her mouth before being cut off by Fu Juan’s cold tone.
“The battle formation isn’t as terrifying as you imagine.” Fu Juan’s fingers tapped lightly on the wheelchair’s armrest. The evening breeze stirred her hair, her expression severe as frost, her eyes deep and abyssal, like a whirlpool. “The battle formation’s baleful energy is extremely dense. But look at the armor and weapons of those soldier souls. They clearly aren’t from the same era. That means they lack the instinctive rapport of brothers-in-arms. Under a single command, they can maintain strict order. But with two, three, or even more commands?”
Jiang Yiguang shook her head. “But I don’t understand military tactics.” She had to admit, her past self had existed in a muddled haze. Every single word of Daoist texts could be taken in, but similarly, she hadn’t delved into other areas either. In short, among the ordinary, mediocre masses, she was one of the more useless ones.
Wang Xuanming rubbed his chin, a hint of a smile appearing on his face. “I know a little.”
Fu Juan responded with a cool “Mm,” then simply said, “Protect the ritual for me.”
Jiang Yiguang’s thoughts spun quickly. If Fu Juan didn’t want their help, then she must be placing her hopes on divine soldiers and divine generals. Recalling the doctor’s orders, Jiang Yiguang couldn’t help frowning. She unconsciously sharpened her tone and asked, “You’re going to perform an Altar Ritual again?”
Fu Juan glanced at Jiang Yiguang, her eyes holding a strange look, as if to say, “Why ask the obvious?” Among the three of them, the Wang family cultivated inner cores and swordsmanship. Though the Jiang family’s main focus was talismans, spells, and divine powers, Jiang Yiguang hadn’t received the true transmission; she hadn’t even learned basic Pacing the Dipper. That left only Fu Juan herself to do it.
Jiang Yiguang bit her lower lip, realizing her “concern” for Fu Juan was surfacing again. She forced the surging emotion back down, yet still thought to herself, “Learning Pacing the Dipper has to be put on the agenda.” Of course, it would be for Fu Juan’s sake—no, for the sake of enhancing her own survival odds.
Wang Xuanming joined in persuading her: “Fu Juan, the injuries from last time probably haven’t healed fully. We can wait a bit longer.”
Fu Juan shot him an icy glance. “Then you do it?” Seeing Wang Xuanming looking utterly helpless, she realized her attitude had been excessively harsh. She pressed her fingers to her brow and spoke more gently, “We can’t afford to wait.” When everything became tangled with Life Borrowing, every moment they delayed meant another moment of increased danger for ordinary people.
But was it truly mere coincidence that the people from the Xuanzhen Dao Court were always missing at critical times? The thought shot through Fu Juan’s mind like a bird crossing the sky, leaving no trace.
With Fu Juan’s persistence, all Wang Xuanming could do was step back. They were hunting for the evil Daoist and the Yin ghost, which meant there could also be presences in the shadows watching them. He couldn’t assist Fu Juan in setting up the ritual altar, so he could only devote his full effort to “protecting the ritual,” ensuring she had nothing to worry about at her back. “You—” Wang Xuanming turned to Jiang Yiguang, swallowed the words “fall back,” and instead changed them to “guard the south.”
Jiang Yiguang couldn’t even be bothered to argue with Wang Xuanming. She was, by nature, never one to actively shoulder extra work.
Suddenly, Fu Juan said, “Wait.”
Wang Xuanming and Jiang Yiguang stopped simultaneously.
Fu Juan didn’t look at Wang Xuanming; she faced Jiang Yiguang, producing a ritual sword and handing it over. She said softly, “Be careful.”
A stone had been dropped into the still lake of Jiang Yiguang’s heart, sending ripples spreading outward. Such a simple two words could stir an emotion named “joy” within her… Wasn’t this “simping” going a bit overboard? Cursing herself internally for “having no ambition,” she forced a smile—three parts fake—at Fu Juan, said a “Thank you,” and took the sword Fu Juan offered.
Fu Juan pressed her lips together. She looked down at her now empty palm, which still seemed to carry the residual warmth from where Jiang Yiguang’s fingertip had brushed against it.
She was starting to feel some confusion—not just about herself, but about Jiang Yiguang too.
Jiang Yiguang, carrying the ritual sword, stood lazily to the south. Even if she’d learned some divine powers and Daoist techniques, she was still different from Fu Juan or Wang Xuanming. She lacked that naturally imposing authority, that otherworldly immortal elegance. At most, she was just a mundane person, muddling through the human world, who’d learned a few tricks for self-preservation. After she’d completely cast off this miserable fate, what would she do? Continue being that carefree rich young miss? Or should she develop some interests, throw herself into a new profession? Or maybe, once she’d mastered the Six Jia Arcane Gates, she could set up a fortune-telling stall under a bridge? Her thoughts wandered as aimlessly as drifting clouds. Suddenly, she felt a fierce wind assault her face. Jiang Yiguang’s eyes sharpened. Her ritual sword came chopping down like a melon cleaver.
She didn’t have Wang Xuanming’s Flying Sword technique. All she could rely on was raw “brute force.” But the Yin miasma attacking the south was formless and traceless, nearly impossible to track! Seizing a moment to take a step back, Jiang Yiguang directly cast the spell Scatter Beans to Form Soldiers. If she could have fighters, why do it herself? As the Yellow-Scarf Divine Soldiers stood to her left and right like protective deities, Jiang Yiguang stabbed her ritual sword into the ground. She pulled out a talisman, formed a hand seal, and chanted: “Lightning fires fiercely gather, Lord of Southern Fire. Flying venom for ten thousand zhang, shaking all eight directions. True talisman takes form, quickly reveal True Spirit. Swiftly, swiftly, by command!” This was a Command Summoning Spell Jiang Yiguang had managed to learn on her own. She was guarding the southern gate at this moment. As the incantation fell, a blazing, scorching firestorm swept forth, burning away the roiling negative energy ahead.
She could definitely still hold this gate. Even when she saw a soldier soul wielding a polearm on the western side slip past the net formed by Wang Xuanming’s flying sword, she could still draw her sword and charge forward with lightning speed. The ritual sword struck the armor with a crisp clang, the impact jarring Jiang Yiguang’s arm numb. Looking up, she stared in shock at the seemingly scrawny ancient soldier soul. She realized she had underestimated the raw power of even a single foot soldier. Regardless of anything else, it had been a soldier who’d fought on battlefields, with military merits to its name, claws its way out from mountains of corpses and seas of blood—a warrior who had once guarded the nation’s soil without fear of death.
Even knowing her chance of something going wrong here was only one in a thousand, Jiang Yiguang refused to be that reckless, hard-headed fool. She paid no mind to appearances; she threw herself to the ground and, without a teacher, instinctually mastered the great art of “roll to evade.” This soldier soul had an arrow wound on its leg. Perhaps it had been hit by a feathered arrow, giving the enemy a chance to behead it. The ritual sword stabbed out diagonally, targeting that old injury from its living days. As the soldier soul’s body stiffened momentarily, Jiang Yiguang’s left hand, holding a talisman between two fingers, slapped it onto the soldier soul, fast as lightning.
“Thunder’s voice stirs, bolt crashes. Thunder-fire erupts, ghost-gods die… Swiftly, swiftly, by command!”
With swift thunder and fierce wind carrying the might of a thousand jun, the soldier soul was instantly obliterated by the Thunder Arts.
Jiang Yiguang stood up, brushed the dust off her clothes. Five Thunders Orthodox Method was indeed a true, orthodox method of the Mystic Sect, unifying the mind to master all arts. The pity was that Thunder Talismans were difficult to draw, especially in the world today. Why hadn’t the system issued a task yet? If she had Daoist Skill Points to exchange for study time in the Eternal Space, she’d get twice the results with half the effort!
“North side!” Wang Xuanming’s loud shout rang out. Guarding three directions by himself was truly stretching him thin. Sensing a shift in the “primordial qi,” he turned his head just in time to glimpse a blurry silhouette of a Daoist. It wasn’t a soldier soul—it was that evil Daoist, the one who’d mastered the evil arts, whose cultivation level was unknown, appearing before them!
In the chaos, Jiang Yiguang turned her head.
The system she constantly thought about chose that moment to reboot.
【A. Run away. (Reward: a copy of 《The Grand Compendium of Cowardice》)
B. Freeze. (Reward: a remark, “Well, aren’t you awesome.”)
C. Ignore it. (Daoist Skill Points +3)】
Was there any fundamental difference between these three options? Was her life, Jiang Yiguang’s life, just about being a “deserter”? Then again, were the system’s options… deliberately engineered to fulfill her “dreams”? How about just not issuing tasks and letting her freely use the Eternal Space? She wouldn’t feel any guilt over getting something for nothing. While letting her thoughts drift chaotically, Jiang Yiguang decisively chose the third option.
She pretended to be completely oblivious to the evil Daoist’s silhouette.
