Though the Chixiao Sword had penetrated the Jade Corpse just as it had in the illusion, no crack appeared at the point of entry as everyone might have hoped. The blade was wedged at precisely the Jade Statue’s chest — unable to advance even half an inch further, and equally unable to be withdrawn.
Lin Xiao was caught in an impossible position with no way forward or back and no other options — the only thing he could do was use the Chixiao Sword to hold the Jade Corpse steadily in place. The moment he showed the slightest sign of exhaustion, she would immediately strike back.
The good news was that while the Jade Corpse had not sustained any fundamental damage, the spiritual energy channelled through the Chixiao Sword had constrained her enough that she could not move freely. Her right arm was half-raised in a suspended posture; though her palm had long since formed the shape of a blade, some invisible force held it hovering in the air, unable to come crashing down on Lin Xiao.
Qin Yao had already sent the Soul-Devouring flames burning toward the Jade Corpse, but the Jade Corpse was carved of solid jade from head to toe — a seamless, unbroken whole. The Fire Dragons circled the Jade Statue slowly for some time, but could find no vulnerable point to attack.
Seeing that the Soul-Devouring Bell was completely ineffective against the Jade Corpse, Qin Yao was frantic with urgency. She grabbed Qing Xuzi’s straw rope, intending to leap onto the Jade Corpse and engage her in direct, close-quarters combat.
Qing Xuzi grabbed her immediately, snapping under his breath: “You would be throwing your life away!”
Seeing that the Jade Corpse had forced Lin Xiao back yet another several steps, Qin Yao felt her panic mount — yet she dared not recklessly disrupt the formation. She forced herself to think clearly. “The Jade Corpse’s killing energy is boundless,” she said. “The Young Master cannot hope to hold his own against her alone indefinitely — eventually she will overwhelm him. We cannot stand by and watch him get hurt. There must be another way.”
Qing Xuzi did not rush to answer. He first directed A’Han to hold the Boundless Mirror higher, fixing the formation in place, then turned his attention back to her with a sober expression. “The Chixiao Sword was forged from the flesh and blood of a Sword God in ages past. It is the most purely yang and keenly destructive thing in all the world, and it has never consented to be passed around like a common object — it chooses its own master. In other words, only those of exceptional quality have ever been able to wield it. Now that the Jade Corpse has appeared in the world, when neither water nor fire can touch her, only an instrument of power like the Chixiao Sword has any hope of dealing with her.
“As you have seen, the Young Master has sparred with her for this long without gaining the upper hand — yet without losing it either. That tells us the Chixiao Sword strikes at this evil creature’s weak point. As long as that old bald monk takes this opportunity to recover some of his power and re-establish the formation that Master Zhida once used to suppress the Jade Corpse, we will find a way out of this.”
Qin Yao turned to look toward Yuan Jue and the other monks. Sure enough, they were all seated with eyes downcast, breathing slowly in and out, concentrating on recovering their strength.
The Jade Corpse had launched her attack so suddenly that Yuan Jue had not even had time to guide his disciples into the formation that Patriarch Zhida had once used against her before she had caught them completely off-guard. Since then, they had been tied down by her endless illusions, unable to deploy any techniques.
Now, with the Jade Corpse’s movements finally restrained by the Chixiao Sword, Yuan Jue and the others seized the opportunity to recuperate, gathering their strength to renew the fight.
Seeing this, Qin Yao had no choice but to wait patiently for Yuan Jue and the others to recover. And because she could not stop worrying about Lin Xiao, and because the Soul-Devouring Bell was powerless against the Jade Corpse’s physical form but could still consume the illusions she conjured, she kept the Fire Dragons circling around Lin Xiao to protect him.
Lin Xiao had been holding on for a long time. The energy within his chest was churning in turmoil; the web between his thumb and forefinger, where he gripped the sword, had been nearly torn apart. Beads of sweat the size of beans kept rolling from his forehead, blurring his vision.
The Jade Corpse’s killing energy was inexhaustible. Lin Xiao’s inner power was showing faint signs of depletion. He ground his teeth and held the sword, not daring to yield a single step — and yet the effort of holding on so long finally told on him. A sweet, metallic taste slowly flooded his throat. Blood welled at the corner of his mouth in a warm surge.
Qin Yao grew more desperate than ever. She looked over at Yuan Jue and the others, sitting unmoved as ancient monks carved in stone, and could hardly stop herself from going over to drag them to their feet one by one and order them to set the formation immediately.
Lin Xiao’s blood fell like petals of plum blossom — drop by drop — onto the Jade Corpse’s skirt, where it quickly seeped into the veining of the jade stone.
The Jade Corpse’s body shuddered. The features of her face, rigid until now, seemed to shift in some imperceptible way. She looked at Lin Xiao with a gaze that had turned even more malevolent — and the killing energy emanating from her intensified a degree further.
In the next instant, the Jade Corpse’s inhuman strength erupted all at once. Her body bore down on Lin Xiao like a mountain, and the precarious balance they had held was shattered in a moment. Unable to resist the force, Lin Xiao was driven back several steps.
The Jade Corpse’s head tilted toward Lin Xiao’s throat. Slowly, her jaw unhinged, widening, exposing two rows of needle-sharp teeth — she was on the verge of biting down on his neck.
Qing Xuzi stamped his foot in alarm. “We’re done for — she’s found it!” Though he had quite forgotten what he had just been telling Qin Yao, he snatched up his straw rope, leapt, and landed behind the Jade Corpse, hauling the rope around her neck from behind and pulling back with all his strength.
Qin Yao did not pause to wonder what her master meant by “she’s found it” — seeing the situation turn dire, she and A’Han rushed forward at once, one on each side, helping their master drag the rope against the Jade Corpse’s neck from behind.
The straw rope had limited effect on the Jade Corpse, but between the three of them pulling with sheer brute force, they managed to wrench her neck backward.
Qing Xuzi shouted furiously at Yuan Jue: “You old bald monk! This thing is about to bite someone! Are you just going to sit there and watch the Young Master get turned into a golden corpse?”
Yuan Jue’s eyes snapped open. His voice rang out clearly: “Huiqing, Huiming, Huizheng, Huiding — rise and form the array with me. Draw her toward the Jade Spring!”
The four senior disciples answered as one, leaping up from the ground. Each held a sacred Buddhist treasure: one a sutra scroll made of hammered gold, one a string of sarira beads, one a vajra knot, one a ceremonial canopy — all treasures from the collection that had once been scattered outside the Jade Corpse’s tomb beneath the Cangheng River.
As the old saying goes: one generation plants the trees, the next enjoys the shade. In the year the Jade Corpse first appeared and spread terror and slaughter through both the Buddhist and Daoist worlds, Patriarch Zhida had worked tirelessly, without sleep, to find a way to stop her. In the end he had traced the Jade Corpse’s history and, calculating from her birth horoscope, devised the formation that could suppress her — bringing the world a hundred years of peace.
Knowing that the Jade Corpse would not decay across ten thousand years, and fearing that she might one day break free from her prison, he had recorded every sacred implement and technique for dealing with her in precise detail in the Yelan Scripture, to be passed down for future generations. Over the centuries, however, pages had been lost and characters had worn away, and the Cangheng River had changed its name so many times that by this generation, almost no one remembered that it was where the Jade Corpse had been suppressed.
It was for this reason that Yuan Jue had made a special trip back to the riverbed the previous day to recover these sacred implements.
With the situation now at a critical point, the four great monks each took up a position at one corner of the hall, channelling the spiritual power of their implements, directing their light toward the Jade Corpse at the centre.
Above the hall, a net woven of dazzling golden radiance descended from above, enveloping the Jade Corpse entirely.
The Jade Corpse, caught off-guard and seared by the golden net, checked her motion — she had been stretching her neck to bite Lin Xiao. For the first time, a flicker of something like fear appeared in her eyes. Whether she was remembering that terrible battle a hundred years ago, or dreading being sealed again beneath that cold river water, her two rigid arms began pulling frantically at the net that bound her — formless yet real — as though trying desperately to tear herself free.
Her body thrashed violently, throwing Qing Xuzi and the others off her back in all directions. Qin Yao was not spared — when she hit the ground, the back of her head struck the hard floor with a heavy thud, sending a wave of dizziness crashing over her. She nearly lost consciousness then and there.
Then, from somewhere, came the Jade Corpse’s long, eerie wailing — it was Yuan Jue, holding a golden bowl and chanting the Six-Path Vajra Mantra, who was doing it. His back to the hall doors, he was slowly drawing the Jade Corpse outward.
The golden net that had ensnared the Jade Corpse seemed to have acquired an invisible leash, the other end held within Yuan Jue’s golden bowl. The Jade Corpse strained with everything she had to hold herself in place, but the golden net was airtight and bound her fast. Unable to deploy her killing energy, she could only be led like a caged beast by Yuan Jue’s guiding hand.
The four senior disciples and all the other monks of Dayin Temple followed close behind, chanting together to reinforce the master’s formation.
With the Jade Corpse finally releasing her hold on him, Lin Xiao at last managed to withdraw the Chixiao Sword. Frantic with worry for Qin Yao, and ignoring the tearing pain in his chest, he sprinted to her side, crouched down, and pulled her into his arms. “A’Yao!” he called urgently.
He gently cradled the back of her neck, bending close to examine the back of her head. Though the skin had not broken, a lump the size of an egg had already risen. He thought of how young she was, yet because she had so often accompanied her master in vanquishing demons and evil spirits, she was never far from danger — and his heart ached for her.
Qin Yao had been stunned for a moment, but she came to her senses quickly. Seeing the anxious expression on Lin Xiao’s face, she pulled herself upright from his arms and reached to feel the back of her head. She found a swollen, tender lump — even the lightest touch sent a sharp pain shooting through it — but she shook her head all the same. “I’m fine.”
Lin Xiao saw that her face still held a dazed look, and her hair was dishevelled about her cheeks — her features delicate and pretty, faintly tinged with the guilelessness of a child. He thought suddenly of Kangping and Ji Yan, who were about the same age as she — and how they had never suffered anything like this.
Seeing that the Jade Corpse was temporarily occupied and posed no immediate threat, he coaxed her gently: “Yuan Jue and the others have already restrained the Jade Corpse. There isn’t much you can do to help with a Buddhist formation. Why not rest here for a while — once your head stops hurting, it won’t be too late to go over and help.”
Qin Yao had not slept since leaving the Pei residence the previous night, and was thoroughly exhausted. If not for the Jade Corpse’s presence, she might have been bold enough to steal a nap right there in Lin Xiao’s arms — but the Jade Corpse’s tactics were too cunning and unpredictable; she didn’t dare let her guard down.
Remembering that Lin Xiao had also taken a wound just now, she was about to say something when, from across the way, Qing Xuzi spotted them unabashedly sitting nestled together right in front of him. That was the last straw. He let out a loud, pointed cough and bore down on them with a thunderous expression.
Qin Yao’s face went scarlet. She scrambled to her feet, half-tumbling in her haste — and just as she was about to speak, the sound of Buddhist chanting outside suddenly swelled into an urgent crescendo. They all started and rushed out.
The Jade Corpse had by now been guided to the foot of the hill where the Jade Spring lay. The golden net that had been draped over her seemed to have taken on a force of ten thousand catties, pressing her steadily downward into the water.
A black miasma hung about the Jade Corpse’s face — she seemed to have concentrated every ounce of her killing energy to its utmost. Though her body was sinking inexorably, the spring water beneath her feet churned in turmoil; saturated with her malevolent energy, the waters that had always been warm were now leaching out threads of bitter cold.
The veins on Yuan Jue’s forehead stood out visibly; the kasaya on his back was already soaked through. Compared to Lin Xiao’s earlier confrontation with the Jade Corpse, this was clearly more gruelling still.
Among the four disciples, the youngest — whose cultivation was clearly the least stable — had gone pale as paper, swaying on his feet, plainly on the edge of collapse.
Qing Xuzi and A’Han moved to go to him, pressing their palms against his back to channel inner energy into him.
Then the monk accidentally stepped on a smooth river stone. He lurched; the vajra knot in his hand swayed.
A laugh of pure cold rang out. The sky above darkened. The Jade Corpse, who had been half-submerged in the river, suddenly shot upward out of the water and seized A’Han — who stood at Qing Xuzi’s side — with one hand. Her jaw split wide, baring her full array of pointed teeth, as though she intended to sink them into A’Han’s neck the same way she had tried to bite Lin Xiao.