The Ten Thousand Souls Malevolence was a supremely Yin-tainted and sinister secret art of the ghost path. It used eighty-one living souls as offerings to reverse the flow of Yin and Yang, allowing the practitioner to shed the ghost body and achieve an undying, indestructible evil form — free to roam the mortal world at will, resembling neither demon nor specter, indistinguishable to even the most accomplished Celestial Masters and Daoist sages.

This method was excessively malicious and was considered one of the forbidden arts of the ghost path. It was extraordinarily vicious and poisonous, condemned by Daoist tradition as a taboo technique — any who cultivated it would inevitably suffer the retribution of heaven.

“The Ten Thousand Souls Malevolence?” Gong Qi’s expression changed drastically. “I once read through the Dao bamboo slips left by our founding ancestor, and there was a record of this art — that once more than half the souls have been gathered, the practitioner can carve out an independent realm…”

His voice cut short. By now, more than half of the eighty-one required souls had long since been claimed.

Everyone turned to look at the riverbank. The fourth month was more than half gone, nearing the month of the Five Poisons. The river had already swollen high with water. Beneath its seemingly placid surface, dark currents surged in secret, concealing an enormous, unknown peril.

Shen Qinghe said, “What exactly is the evil entity beneath the water? Can it truly cultivate what you’re calling the Ten Thousand Souls Malevolence?”

He deeply regretted not having read more Daoist scriptures and strange accounts in recent days. He had no idea what made the Ten Thousand Souls Malevolence so terrifying. But he knew how to read people’s faces, and seeing the grave expressions of the two beside him was enough to tell him that the harm this evil art could cause was severe.

“There is a joke that goes: gather seven dragon pearls and you may summon the divine dragon,” Lang Jiuchuan said flatly. “Think of it this way — the evil entity is treating these living souls as dragon pearls. Once eighty-one souls are gathered and consumed by the Ten Thousand Souls Malevolence, those people will be imprisoned inside the entity’s body forever, becoming nourishment for its power. Because their souls will carry an immense weight of resentment and grievance, and because they cannot enter the cycle of reincarnation, the resentment will transform into malevolent energy. The heavier it becomes, the stronger the entity grows — until it achieves the undying, indestructible evil form and breaks free from this stretch of water, transcending the Three Realms and the Five Elements.”

Shen Qinghe felt his spine go cold. “What in heaven’s name is this thing?”

“A Water Imp. It is a Water Imp.”

A faint, weakened voice suddenly spoke up. Everyone turned to look, and there stood Yice — pale-faced and soaking wet, with a dazed child of three or four years old dangling from one hand.

Lang Jiuchuan walked toward him. “What are you doing here?”

Gong Qi said, “Did he not mention it? He’s also a member of the Surveillance Division — dispatched by the Feng Family. After the disturbances began in these waters, he has been stationed here on guard. Senior Brother Yice, did you engage the Water Imp in combat?”

Yice nodded and passed the child toward Gong Qi. “This little one was being dragged into the water — I pulled him back. I fought the thing. It has a hollow, spectral body. On its back it carries a twin-headed rotting corpse. Eyes the size of walnuts, pitch black all over, with fangs like spikes. Its magical power is formidable.”

He looked toward Lang Jiuchuan and smiled ruefully. “If not for your fellow cultivator’s thunder talismans, I would likely have been lost to the depths.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Lang Jiuchuan, gleaming with desire. She had something so useful — they wanted one too.

But Lang Jiuchuan was looking at the Yin energy that had not yet dissipated from his body. “You’ve been infected with corpse poison.”

Yice forced a smile, stretching his hand toward her. “You see right through me. Fellow cultivator, please help me.”

Everyone took one look and sucked in a sharp breath. The back of his hand had two puncture wounds, and a dark, deathly malevolent energy seeped out from inside. The entire hand was swollen and black — it looked as though the hand was no longer of any use.

Lang Jiuchuan had him push up his sleeve. She saw that the forearm had also begun to turn black from the erosion of the corpse poison’s malevolent energy. Without a word, she produced a set of golden needles and, with a flick of her wrist, drove an entire row of them into his arm in perfect alignment. Daoist resonance passed through the ends of the needles, producing a low, sustained hum as they vibrated in unison.

Yice’s entire hand trembled. His face, which had been ashen-pale, flushed red. He felt the entire arm burning as if scorched by thunder-fire — scorching and stinging, agonizing and itching all at once. But under the thunder-fire needles, the bone-eroding, ice-cold malevolent Yin energy was being driven out toward his palm and fingertips. He bit down hard on his teeth and endured.

Before long, before the eyes of all watching, dark liquid — black as ink — began to seep out from between Yice’s fingers, dripping steadily downward, carrying a nauseating stench. More than a few faces turned.

What he would have become if that corpse poison had not been expelled — needless to say.

As the poisonous liquid was forced out, Yice’s complexion gradually improved. Not until the entire arm had returned to its natural color did the bone-deep, malevolent Yin within him fully recede.

Lang Jiuchuan withdrew the needles and gave him a medicinal pill. “You’ve suffered a bout of corpse poisoning. Some Yin energy will linger inside — you can clear that yourself. I won’t trouble myself with it.”

“A great kindness needs no words of thanks.” Yice straightened his robes and gave her a solemn bow in the Maoshan School’s gesture of gratitude to one’s master — placing her on the same level as a teacher of one’s own generation deserving of deep respect and reverence.

Among the Daoist practitioners who had come along or were stationed here, there were more than a dozen, and seeing this scene, every one of them fixed Lang Jiuchuan with a burning, reverent gaze. This is a master with genuine skill.

She had extraordinary arts, and moreover the ability to save lives. She had proven herself through her own abilities.

After this, who would still have doubts? And even those who did would not dare to stand against her. Who could know when they might find themselves needing to come to her?

Lang Jiuchuan’s gaze swept over the assembled crowd, pausing for a moment on Mingqing within the group. Her eyes flickered, and a faint, unreadable smile touched the corner of her mouth.

Mingqing had been watching her every action, his expression unreadable, brow deeply furrowed. When his eyes met Lang Jiuchuan’s, he looked away with a guilty conscience.

This woman truly is not easy to deal with.

Lang Jiuchuan then looked at the child in Gong Qi’s hands. “How is he?”

“Badly frightened — some soul-shock. I’ve performed a spirit-settling ritual for him.” Gong Qi replied.

Lang Jiuchuan nodded. Just then, a man and woman came stumbling through the crowd, calling out the name “Tiezhu.” Seeing the child in Gong Qi’s arms, they let out a cry and burst into tears.

Gong Qi handed the child over, gave them some instructions, and left a talisman with them. The couple thanked them profusely and carried the child away.

To confirm whether the Water Imp was indeed cultivating the Ten Thousand Souls Malevolence, Lang Jiuchuan went to the mortuary. At the sight of those bodies not yet interred, she burned the talismans, and as the blue-grey smoke was drawn into seven orifices after seven orifices, everyone’s expressions grew dark.

It truly was the Ten Thousand Souls Malevolence.

“A Water Imp is already a hollow spectral entity by nature. Having consumed this many living souls and vital essences, it has grown enormously powerful. By now it can control the waters from beneath. Once it completes the Ten Thousand Souls Malevolence, it will be able to condense a true physical body, shed its old form, and emerge from the water.” Lang Jiuchuan gripped the Dizhong Bell at her waist, her expression grim. “There are close to fifty bodies here — the ones that were found, and found fresh. What of those dragged to the riverbed that were never recovered? How many more are missing? That, we cannot say. If the count is already reached, its power will no longer be confined to the water — it will be able to come ashore. By then, forget the ghost realm beneath the river — even the entirety of Qiong River Town could become a realm of the dead among the living.”

A heavy silence settled over the group.

All were of Daoist background, and naturally understood the implication of Lang Jiuchuan’s words. Should the Water Imp complete its cultivation, the banks of the Qiong River would be transformed entirely into a domain of death — not only would all aquatic life perish and vegetation wither, but any living person who approached would not escape unharmed. And once it came ashore — that would be nothing less than a living hell on earth.

“Fellow Cultivator Lang, with your Golden Lotus Proof of the Dao, you radiate the purest of righteous energies, and the Surveillance Division itself has specifically come to request your aid — which shows just how great your abilities must be. A mere Water Imp — I am certain a fellow cultivator of your caliber could subdue it with ease, yes?” Mingqing spoke up at this moment.

The words sounded like praise toward Lang Jiuchuan, but there was an unmistakably sharp and mocking edge beneath them.

Lang Jiuchuan’s gaze slid over to him. “Are you trying to set me up to fail?”