Those standing in front of Wang Ya, facing the unfurled scroll, were almost instantly engulfed by the tsunami-like flood of Yin Spirit Ghosts, letting out heart-wrenching, utterly shrill screams.
The moment Wang Ya opened the scroll, a very ominous feeling suddenly rose in her heart. The scroll in her hand trembled violently, as if an even more powerful force was about to surge out from the Yin Spirit Scroll—a force so strong that it made her shudder and feel terrified. In that instant, she realized she couldn’t control it at all. Among the people on the Yellow Springs Road, she didn’t want Zheng Yanxia and Old Tang to die; after all, they had never harmed her and had even helped her. Wang Ya felt the power from the Yin Spirit Scroll envelop her, sensing something in her body surging toward the scroll as her strength rapidly drained away. Knowing the situation had spiraled out of control, she shouted loudly, “Zheng Yanxia, Old Tang, go to my dad—the Yin Spirit Scroll doesn’t collect Feng Family bloodline—” Before she could finish, a blinding red light shot out from the Yin Spirit Scroll, illuminating the entire Yellow Springs. The fiery red glow was even more piercing than sunlight when reflected in people’s eyes, suppressing the thick Yin Qi and the myriad Yin Spirit Ghosts.
A bone-chilling cold pierced through Wang Ya’s entire body, freezing her so thoroughly that she almost thought she had turned to ice and been fixed in place, unable to move. The red light released from the Yin Spirit Scroll enveloped her, with strands and threads like roots burrowing into her body, rooting into her like a plant’s roots into soil. It wasn’t just her; the people ahead, being torn at by countless Lost Souls and Ghosts, were also surrounded by the red light. Wang Ya clearly saw them aging, dying, turning into mummies, then white bones at a visible speed—and even the power in those bones was drained, the bones quickly decaying into dirt. A living person was completely dead in just a few breaths, not even their Divine Soul escaping.
In an instant, all nine of them died right before Wang Ya’s eyes, in a way she had never anticipated.
A blood-red flower, bloomed to its extreme, rose from the Yin Spirit Scroll and hovered above it, looking at first glance like a projection cast onto the scroll by a projector. The flower had only petals, no stem or leaves, let alone roots—as if it had been plucked by someone and sealed into the scroll. Yet, the red light enveloping the heavens, which turned those nine living people into rotting mud in an instant, came from it.
Wang Ya watched as the Yellow Springs Other Shore Flower grew brighter and larger, detaching from the Yin Spirit Scroll to float in the air, becoming an enormous flower like a canopy overhead. The Yellow Springs Other Shore Flower dangled a thousand fiery red threads that pierced through Wang Ya’s body. She clearly felt something in her body being rapidly drained by it. Before she could think further, a sudden burst of excruciating pain overwhelmed her—a violent agony erupting from her blood, bones, and marrow. She felt as if she had been set ablaze. Under the dual oppression of intense pain and the shadow of death, Wang Ya let out an utterly shrill scream. She struggled helplessly, exerting all her strength, using her voice to alleviate the extreme pain and fear. She thought she had already burned into a fire person and would soon scatter into ashes. She didn’t want to die; death turned out to be so terrifying.
Her vision was filled with blood-red, the intense pain raged, death approached, and her life rapidly ebbed away. Would she also become a pile of dry bones, a heap of rotting soil on the Yellow Springs Road?
In a daze, Wang Ya heard a sigh, both near and far: “The flower blooms for a thousand years, falls for a thousand years. Is that you returned? It is you, isn’t it?” The voice was soft, yet it magically dispelled the pain in her body. She felt herself floating, her whole body light as a feather. The voice gave her a strange feeling—familiar yet unfamiliar. When she tried to recall, she couldn’t even tell if it was male or female, or its tone; it was as if it had suddenly appeared in her mind. Could it be memories from a past life? Legend had it that the fragrance of the Other Shore Flower had magic to awaken past-life memories.
While she was startled and suspicious, a violent impact suddenly struck her back, jolting her whole body as she let out a muffled “Ugh.” Hearing her own voice, Wang Ya snapped her eyes open in shock, did a carp flip to leap up, and looked around with wide eyes, exclaiming, “I’m still alive?” She immediately saw Wang Cheng’an, Zheng Yanxia, Old Tang, and Zhang Qingshui standing not far away, staring at her with wide eyes and ghostly expressions. Wang Cheng’an’s mouth was exaggeratedly agape, big enough to fit a fist. Seeing Old Tang, Zhang Qingshui, and Zheng Yanxia still in shock, Wang Ya asked again, “You guys actually didn’t die?”
Wang Cheng’an recovered first and shouted, “Whoa, Yaya, a huge flower bloomed on you just now!” As he spoke, he spread his arms wide to gesture.
