In Zheng City, stiff corpses roamed. Heaven and earth were bleak; a hundred ghosts howled and roared. After spiritual energy began to revive in this world, the Xuanzhen Dao Court started constructing “Dongtian Blessed Lands” as shelters, especially in perilous places like Zheng City, which had once suffered a Ghost King uprising. The moment the changes in heaven and earth were detected, all Dao Court cultivators in Zheng City mobilized. On one hand, they relocated ordinary people to the blessed lands; on the other, they built the city’s Mystic Sect talisman grand array, repairing one node after another broken by ghostly Qi. But the Zheng City cultivators alone were not enough. The cultivators stationed there immediately sent messages requesting reinforcements from headquarters.
Cultivators from all regions rushed to Zheng City together. Although Jiang Yiguang had been involved in some Dao Court missions and gained a few rewards, she was not a Dao Court cultivator and had no obligation to venture into that danger zone. So, when the Dao Court’s invitation was rejected by Jiang Yiguang, they didn’t continue to pressure her. Jiang Yiguang secretly breathed a sigh of relief, fearing they might persist. Since they were being “sensible,” she could proceed according to her own plan.
Zheng City… Whether because of fate or her own will, she had to step onto that land filled with peril. Just as Jiang Yiguang booked her flight, a plane bearing the Xuanzhen Dao Court insignia roared into the clouds, heading straight for its final destination.
Fu Juan closed her eyes to rest. Wang Xuanming hesitated to speak several times, unsure where to begin. After much deliberation, he let out a breath and advised, “We’ll know the truth once we arrive in Zheng City. You don’t need to worry.” Seeing Fu Juan remain silent, he thought for a moment, then abruptly changed the subject, bringing up the matter between the Mystic Sect and the noble clans. “The president is very unhappy that Alchemist Tao and the others acted on their own. He wants to remove Alchemist Tao from his post. But before his official document could be issued, the news from Zheng City arrived. The president’s mood changed quickly.” Remembering Zhu Shixian’s expression back at the office, Wang Xuanming found it utterly hilarious.
“The previous president was promoted precisely because of the Zheng City incident, wasn’t he? President Zhu likely harbors similar ambitions. So he acted magnanimous, saying he wouldn’t dwell on past matters, even wanting Alchemist Tao to sign a pledge of military obedience. Alchemist Tao ignored him, though.” After taking such a step, a sharp thorn must have lodged itself in Zhu Shixian’s heart. If this layman continued to lead the Xuanzhen Dao Court, let alone contending with the Mountains and Seas, whether the Dao Court itself could be maintained was a question.
Fu Juan opened her eyes and coldly uttered four words: “A eunuch overseeing generals.”
Wang Xuanming: “…”
Two hours later, the plane landed at the airport on the outskirts of Zheng City. Because the Mystic Sect cultivators had immediately secured the transportation hub, this area remained relatively stable, free from roaming stiff corpses or vicious ghosts haunting the daylight. Upon disembarking, a wave of bone-chilling Yin coldness hit them. The ghost-fire baleful Qi within Fu Juan’s body, sharing the same source as her old injury, stirred. This instantly threw the suppressed wound into imbalance. Excruciating pain pierced the heart and bones. Fu Juan’s face turned deathly pale, cold sweat beading on her forehead. Although she had anticipated this and prepared pills to suppress her internal injuries, they didn’t alleviate the pain by even a fraction. It was as if she was back to that day eight years ago, body and heart simultaneously tasting the extreme agony of being torn apart.
Qi Ji immediately saw Fu Juan’s dire state. She stepped forward and placed several pain-relieving talismans on Fu Juan’s legs. Lowering her gaze, a flicker of pity showed in her eyes: “You really didn’t need to come. The situation in Zheng City is bad, but better than before. At least the Ghost King hasn’t appeared. As for that figure—” Qi Ji frowned. She hadn’t expected that kid Wang Xuanming to act so fast. Everyone in the Dao Court who saw it was astonished, but they all knew deep down it couldn’t be the original person. But what about Fu Juan? Would she harbor a sliver of hope? Could she truly accept that tragic event from years ago?
“I know.” Fu Juan pursed her lips, trying hard to maintain a calm tone. Raising a hand to push back her sweat-dampened hair, she added, “The original seal has serious problems. We need to repair the sealing nodes quickly.”
Qi Ji gave an “Mm,” then said, “Let’s follow Alchemist Tao’s arrangements.” Some would go to the old sealing sites, while others would stay in the city to protect civilians and exorcise Demons and ghosts.
Not long after the Xuanzhen Dao Court group left, Jiang Yiguang also arrived in Zheng City. After the Ghost Domain in Zheng City rioted, flights for ordinary people had long ceased; only those who had stepped into the supernatural level could still come and go. The flight Jiang Yiguang took wasn’t crowded, but in a quick glance, she still spotted some familiar figures—descendants of noble clans, perhaps with a prefix added to their identity: conscience not yet lost. Not joining the Xuanzhen Dao Court, but also unable to bear seeing Shenzhou’s common people in deep water and scorching fire, unable to ignore them.
“Jiang Yiguang, want to go together?” A crisp voice reached her ears. Turning her head, Jiang Yiguang saw a woman dressed in a very cool, edgy style, hands in her pockets, wearing a carefree, slacker-like demeanor. They had chatted briefly on the plane, and Jiang Yiguang dug out the woman’s identity from a dusty corner of her memory: Zhao Sujie, a branch member of the Zhao family, not through a mere surname change but through real blood ties.
“A talisman grand array should be set up at the airport, but the negative energy is still this strong. That means things are bad outside. We Mystic Sect disciples have means against Demons, Devils, Ghosts, and Monsters, but it’s still a bit difficult for one person to break through thousands upon thousands of ghosts and stiff corpses,” Zhao Sujie added.
“So, it’s not difficult with two people?” Jiang Yiguang asked, folding her arms.
Zhao Sujie grinned at that. “Better than one, right?” She was naturally sociable and spontaneously stepped forward to link arms with Jiang Yiguang, an inquisitive light in her eyes. “Were you hiding your true ability before?”
Jiang Yiguang shuddered, uncomfortable with physical contact from strangers. Smoothly withdrawing her arm, she walked forward while casually brushing off the question: “Mm-hmm.”
“But a bad reputation has no benefits,” Zhao Sujie said, her tone carrying perplexity. Back then, Jiang Yiguang’s “uselessness” was personally certified by the high-level Daoists of the Dao Court and the noble clans; she was supposedly cut off from the supernatural world for life. But now, her dejected, salted-fish aura was gone, replaced by a swordswoman’s cold sharpness. Could she cultivate to this level in such a short time? The only possibility Zhao Sujie could think of was that Jiang Yiguang had always possessed this skill but hid it for certain reasons.
“Who says there are no benefits?” Jiang Yiguang paused her steps, revealing a suitably pleasant smile. She blinked mysteriously and fabricated, “For someone originally considered terrible, expectations are very low. If she does even a little good deed, it draws praise and recognition. But for an excellent person, people’s expectations are endless.”
Zhao Sujie: “You make a valid point, but—” she paused, looking at Jiang Yiguang with an unreadable expression, deliberately lowering her voice, “Was it because of the noble clans? If the Jiang family had a worthy successor, those Jiang clan members might not agree to dismantle the family and erase its future as a noble clan.”
Jiang Yiguang hadn’t expected Zhao Sujie to jump to that conclusion. She chuckled wryly and tossed the question back: “What do you think?”
“That’s it.” A smug, “I’ve seen through the truth” look appeared on Zhao Sujie’s face. Keeping pace with Jiang Yiguang, she continued, “Actually, whether it’s the Dao Court or the noble clans, everyone is a part of Shenzhou. I don’t understand the infighting over power and profit.”
“It’s simple, really. Resource allocation,” Jiang Yiguang said somberly. “How many people are willing to share the cake in their hands?” She paused, then shrugged. “Actually, not sharing isn’t so terrible; someone will just come and take it, unless you can firmly hold your ground and avoid major mistakes. Of course, that possibility ceased to exist the moment they chose to tamper with the dragon vein.”
At the mention of “dragon vein,” Zhao Sujie’s smile vanished. The current situation in Zheng City could be said to have been caused by the noble clans. If they had honestly sealed the Ghost King, how could the Ghost Domain reappear? People around her didn’t say anything, but on the Mystic Sect’s anonymous forum, the curses were endless. Even though she wasn’t involved in the “dragon vein affair,” she still felt shame because of the surname “Zhao.”
The howling wind swept across the wilderness, mixed with “Heh-heh” sounds. Ghosts were lingering negative-energy souls, each a wisp of frigid cold Qi, staying in the world because of a single obsession. But stiff corpses were different. They were physical corpses, monsters crawling out of tombs. Shenzhou had promoted cremation for decades, meaning most roaming stiff corpses were bodies from decades ago. Their flesh rotted, emitting a potent stench. Occasionally, a bit of residual flesh would hang from stark white skeletons, dropping rotten flesh and foul blood as they walked, sickening to behold.
Zhao Sujie frowned: “The corpse Qi on them is getting heavier.”
Jiang Yiguang added, “The corpses are growing white fur.” After the incident with Xie Chaoyun, she had supplemented her knowledge about Ghost Domains. Within a Ghost Domain, both ghosts and stiff corpses received certain power boosts. The longer they existed, the stronger they became. For stiff corpses, there were classifications: White Stiff, Green Stiff, Furry Stiff, Flying Stiff, and Imperishable Bone. Reaching the “Flying Stiff” stage allowed them to develop intelligence and even disguise themselves as humans, making them much harder to deal with.
Zhao Sujie didn’t reply. Stepping outside the range of the airport’s talisman grand array meant they had to start facing the onslaught of stiff corpses and ghost hordes. Thunder Arts were supremely righteous and banished evil, possessing the strongest killing power among Mystic Sect arts. Among the three thousand paths of law, strength, Qi, and others, the strongest cultivators were sword cultivators. Zhao Sujie raised her hand and unleashed Five Thunders Orthodox Method. Jiang Yiguang drew her sword. Wind arose over the wilderness; in the howling gale, a single sword strike of frosty cold forcibly carved open a path. Cleansing cold sword light burst with spirituality, chilling air overflowing.
