Cui Xun was injured by the Soul-Borrowing Lamp, coughing blood as he fell to his knees. The Investigation Bureau agents were shocked and rushed to his side, crying out, “Assistant Minister!”
Just at that moment, the Mountain Hermit of Lingxu and Li Ying arrived at the Yunze Altar. Seeing the situation, the Mountain Hermit first froze, then quickly recovered. A bright yellow talisman slipped from his sleeve, burning at his fingertips, releasing a strange fragrance that instantly wafted over the sacrificial platform.
Cui Xun immediately sensed something was wrong, but having not overcome his karmic obstacles and severely wounded by the evil magic, he was so weak he couldn’t even lift a finger. Struggling, he ordered the agents supporting him: “Quick! Kill him!”
But before the five agents could even nock their arrows, they saw wooden vines suddenly sprout from the sacrificial platform. The vines instantly bound their feet. Terrified, they drew the daggers from their waists and frantically slashed about, but more vines snaked up and bound their hands, rendering them completely immobile.
Cui Xun gritted his teeth. Seeing the agents struggling in midair, he knew they had fallen victim to the Mountain Hermit’s evil magic. The Mountain Hermit let out a cold laugh and moved quickly to retrieve the Soul-Borrowing Lamp, but while he was dealing with the agents, Li Ying, who had followed him, had already transformed the ghostly fire in her hand into a jade-colored silk ribbon. Taking advantage of his distraction, she used it to pick up the Soul-Borrowing Lamp from the ground.
The Mountain Hermit was instantly alarmed. As he lunged to grab it, Li Ying’s robes fluttered as she stepped aside. He couldn’t even touch the hem of her clothes. Li Ying didn’t waste words with him but gripped the Soul-Borrowing Lamp and pinched the wick, preparing to pull it out completely. The Mountain Hermit wasn’t initially worried; he had set three obstacles on the wick—the obstacle of calamity, the obstacle of demons, and the obstacle of karma. From the human heart arise these three obstacles, and from these three obstacles arise ten evils. Who in this world has no evil in their heart? Who could overcome these three obstacles?
He had been confidently watching, expecting Li Ying to fall prey to the three obstacles and be severely injured by the evil magic like Cui Xun. But Li Ying showed no reaction at all and was about to pull out the wick. The Mountain Hermit was shocked, but this was exactly what Cui Xun had anticipated. Li Ying’s heart harbored not the slightest trace of evil. Without evil thoughts, how could the three obstacles manifest? Therefore, the spells on the Soul-Borrowing Lamp had absolutely no effect on her.
The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, and his eyes revealed a tender smile. She was like crystal, pure and clear inside and out, without the slightest flaw—this was the Pearl of Bright Moon. The Pearl of Bright Moon was indeed different from him.
The Mountain Hermit was terrified. He glanced at the severely wounded Cui Xun, and suddenly split open his whisk, revealing a long sword hidden within. The Mountain Hermit held the sword to Cui Xun’s throat and shouted at Li Ying: “Stop!”
Li Ying looked up, stunned. The Mountain Hermit said, “Princess Yong’an, you and this young man share a deep love. You wouldn’t want to see him die, would you?”
The sword pressed against Cui Xun’s throat, drawing a line of blood. Crimson droplets slid down the blade’s edge. Li Ying’s hand, pinching the lamp wick, involuntarily froze, her face instantly turning deathly pale. She blurted out, “Don’t hurt him!”
The Mountain Hermit laughed loudly: “Princess Yong’an, you just told this poor Daoist that you were angry with your lover and wouldn’t forgive him. But seeing him injured, you’re so panicked—surely your anger has been cast to the winds. So, can you bear to disregard your lover’s life?”
Li Ying’s fingers could barely hold the Soul-Borrowing Lamp, her eyes filled with panic and helplessness. The Mountain Hermit continued: “Return the Soul-Borrowing Lamp to me, and I’ll release your lover. I can even cure his illness, ensuring him more than a decade of life. You can live together, growing old side by side.”
Live together… grow old side by side… Li Ying’s heart stirred. Before meeting Cui Xun, her greatest wish had been to reincarnate quickly and be reborn. After meeting him, she no longer wished to be reborn; she only wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Indeed, the Mountain Hermit’s words struck at her heart’s deepest desire, incredibly tempting.
A strange fragrance entered Li Ying’s nostrils, infinitely magnifying this desire. Her expression gradually became dazed, and her hand pinching the wick slowly loosened. The Mountain Hermit was delighted: “Yes, that’s it, return the Soul-Borrowing Lamp to me…”
But Cui Xun, held hostage by the Mountain Hermit, suddenly called out softly: “Pearl of Bright Moon.”
Li Ying looked up blankly at the sound. Despite his severe injuries, Cui Xun’s face was as white as snow, with a trace of blood at the corner of his lips. The blood was a vivid red, making his face appear even more deathly pale. Though his voice was soft, it rang clearly in Li Ying’s ears. He smiled and said, “Pearl of Bright Moon, you are a person with a crystal heart. Don’t let evil magic cloud your true nature.”
A crystal heart…
Earlier, when Cui Xun had asked what kind of person she was, she had replied that she was someone without great ambitions. But Cui Xun had shaken his head and told her that she was a person with a crystal heart.
A crystal heart—pure and clear inside and out, without the slightest flaw.
Li Ying shuddered, her foggy mind instantly clearing. The strange fragrance disappeared from her nostrils, and her loosened fingers tightened around the lamp wick once more.
The Mountain Hermit was furious, pressing the sword deeper into Cui Xun’s neck. Fresh blood welled from his jade-like neck. The Mountain Hermit threatened Cui Xun: “Silence!”
Li Ying was alarmed: “Stop! If you hurt him again, I’ll smash this wretched lamp!”
The Mountain Hermit remained unmoved: “If you dare smash the Soul-Borrowing Lamp, I’ll kill him!”
Both were at an impasse—one afraid to smash, the other afraid to kill. As they stared at each other, the Hour of the Pig was nearly over. The Mountain Hermit grew agitated first. The Yin Year, Yin Month, Yin Day, and Yin Hour—this timing occurred only once every sixty years in the sexagenary cycle. He could certainly live another sixty years, but by then, he might not be able to gather ten thousand souls again.
He had waited long enough for today. The villagers of Niu Village could at most extend his life by a few hundred years, but ten thousand souls, sacrificed to the Soul-Borrowing Lamp during the Yin Year, Yin Month, Yin Day, and Yin Hour, would grant him immortality. Afterward, he would live as long as heaven and earth, no longer needing to scheme as he had in Niu Village—persuading villagers, arranging soul-borrowing formations to trap their souls, disguising himself as a female ghost to scare away officials. After today, he could be free of all this and focus solely on his cultivation.
In his anxiety, the Mountain Hermit threatened Li Ying: “Princess Yong’an, if you don’t return the Soul-Borrowing Lamp to me now, I will truly kill your lover!”
Li Ying bit her lip. Her face was deathly pale. After glancing at the dense cluster of souls around her, she slowly made her decision. Her fingers gripping the lamp wick tightened even more.
The Mountain Hermit’s expression changed: “Princess Yong’an, are you willing to sacrifice your lover for these common people you’ve never met? Don’t forget, after your death, these foolish people didn’t mourn you. Instead, they secretly rejoiced at your death, as it gave them a chance to change their fate. Their descendants could finally enter court service, pass the imperial examinations, and become officials! Are you willing to sacrifice your beloved for these selfish, common people?”
Li Ying stared blankly at Cui Xun, whose life hung by a thread. Cui Xun’s expression was calm; with the sword pressing against his throat, he couldn’t speak, but his eyes held complete serenity. Li Ying understood his intentions, but how could she bear to give him up?
Tears streamed down her face. After all, she wasn’t a saint; she was just a little princess who longed to be with the one she loved. In her sixteen years of life, she hadn’t experienced much hardship, and her resolve wasn’t that strong. She couldn’t choose the common people over her beloved without hesitation. She wavered, she feared, she bit her lip and cried out in despair: “Why? Why must I choose?”
Why must she make a choice? Why must she give up one or the other? Had her father felt such agony when he chose the realm over her?
Tears fell like broken strings of pearls. The Mountain Hermit shouted, “Princess Yong’an, no, you’re not a princess anymore! You’re just a ghost! You have no obligation to protect these commoners. You’re just a ghost abandoned by everyone. Forget your identity as a princess and choose your love! Isn’t love all you have left now?”
Li Ying’s fingers trembled. Indeed, all she had left was love, and she was just a ghost, but she was still a princess of the Great Zhou.
Her tears fell more heavily, her heart filled with unbearable pain. Ignoring the Mountain Hermit, she looked at Cui Xun, the corners of her mouth curling into a tragic smile: “Seventeenth Young Master, I was angry with you today. I said I wouldn’t forgive you, but actually, I was just upset that you didn’t consult with me… In the end, I would have forgiven you… Don’t worry, after you die, I’ll kill this evil Daoist to avenge you. If he destroys your soul, I’ll go with you. We’ll dissolve into nothingness together, existing in the clear moonlight and gentle breeze. From then on, we’ll be clean and pure—you’ll have only me, and I’ll have only you. How does that sound?”
The sword lay across Cui Xun’s neck, cutting into his flesh. Cui Xun couldn’t speak or nod; he just silently gazed at Li Ying. Crystal teardrops hung on his ink-black eyelashes. He blinked, the corner of his mouth curling into a slight smile, silently mouthing a single word: “Good.”
The Mountain Hermit was terrified. Madness! They were both mad!
He truly hadn’t expected Li Ying would be willing to sacrifice her lover to save ten thousand commoners she didn’t even know. She was just a ghost—what was she hoping to achieve?
Sweating profusely, he realized that even Cui Xun’s life wasn’t enough leverage. He had no cards left to play and could only make a desperate move. He shouted, “Princess Yong’an, don’t be rash! Don’t you want to know the truth about what happened thirty years ago?”
Earlier, when he had used the events of thirty years ago to lure Li Ying to Yunze Altar, she had been trying to extract more information from him, but he had deliberately withheld it, intending to bring her to Yunze Altar and use her soul to consecrate the lamp. Now, however, he couldn’t spill the information fast enough. Li Ying immediately asked: “What truth? Isn’t the truth that my father killed me?”
“You think your father killed you?” The Mountain Hermit made a desperate attempt: “That’s not true. Put down the Soul-Borrowing Lamp, and I’ll tell you the truth.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because I was once a guest of Imperial Guard Commander Jin Ni, and because my disciple Ji Qingyang was the one sent to kill you!”
Li Ying was startled. The Mountain Hermit said: “Give me the Soul-Borrowing Lamp, and I’ll tell you everything.”
The Mountain Hermit’s face had turned ashen with fear. Li Ying looked at his contorted expression, her fingers pinching the lamp wick. Suddenly, she smiled: “Evil Daoist! If I don’t care about my beloved, why would I care about myself? Listen well—I, Li Ying, am Princess Yong’an of the Great Zhou!”
With those words, without the slightest hesitation, she gripped the bronze lamp base with one hand and pulled the wick out by the roots with the other. As the white wick left the Soul-Borrowing Lamp’s base, the flame burning on it extinguished. The Mountain Hermit let out an agonized howl, his skin instantly covered with wrinkles, becoming as terrifying as dried tree bark. Then, pieces of skin began falling from his face, leaving only a white skull. The whiteness rapidly spread below his neck, and his sword-gripping fingers turned into five bare bones. Despite this, he used the last of his strength to drive the sword into Cui Xun’s throat before Li Ying’s eyes.
Li Ying was terrified into breathlessness, but at that moment, a soft jade-green light suddenly burst from Cui Xun’s chest. The light blocked the sword’s edge, protecting Cui Xun’s life. The Mountain Hermit stared at the jade-green light in disbelief, but in the next moment, his entire upper body turned to white bones and collapsed to the ground, shattering into pieces.
The Mountain Hermit had been two hundred and fifty years old. He had survived until now solely by extending his life through the Soul-Borrowing Lamp. With the lamp extinguished, all the borrowed life was returned, and he naturally became a pile of dry bones.
As the Mountain Hermit turned to bones, the ten thousand souls at Yunze Altar instantly dispersed, returning to their rightful places. Zhang Silang, who had been surrounded by his weeping family, opened his eyes in confusion. He didn’t know what had happened; he only knew that somehow, he was alive again.
Besides him, the coffin shop assistant, the blacksmith, the seventh-rank official in Chang’an, the old woman selling face powder at the market, and about ten thousand others gradually opened their eyes.
The entire Yunze Altar was empty, with only the dead Daoist from Purple Cloud Temple and the five unconscious agents remaining on the wooden sacrificial platform.
Cui Xun could no longer support himself. Clutching his throat, he knelt on one knee. Li Ying rushed over, not even glancing at the scattered white bones on the ground. Nearly stumbling, she bent down to support Cui Xun, her face as white as jade and streaked with tears. She asked tremulously: “Seventeenth Young Master, are you all right?”
Fresh blood continuously seeped through Cui Xun’s fingers. He shook his head, indicating that she shouldn’t worry.
A five-colored embroidered sachet still emitting jade-green light fell from Cui Xun’s chest, revealing two locks of hair tied together with a red string.
Li Ying stared blankly at the sachet. So it was her hair that had just protected Cui Xun from the fatal blow.
But hadn’t Cui Xun said he had lost this hair token?
Cui Xun lowered his eyes and used his other hand, unstained by blood, to wipe it on his robe hem. He picked up the sachet without saying anything and tucked it into his bosom. Then he opened his mouth to Li Ying, silently forming three words: “Niu Village.”
Li Ying understood. With the Mountain Hermit dead and his soul-borrowing formation in Niu Village dispelled, the two hundred and twenty trapped souls would soon face the reality of their deaths. If they couldn’t accept it, their resentment would rise, possibly turning them into vengeful ghosts. She had to go to Niu Village to prevent them from becoming resentful spirits filled with hatred.
Li Ying bit her lip. She glanced at the bodies strewn behind Cui Xun and said, “Seventeenth Young Master, I can’t take care of you now. I must go to Niu Village. You handle things here, and I’ll wait for you in Niu Village.”
Cui Xun, enduring the pain in his throat, nodded. Li Ying stood up and hurried toward the exit of the Yunze Altar. After a few steps, she couldn’t help but look back at Cui Xun. She had just chosen the lives of commoners over his—would he resent her?
Her heart was filled with countless emotions, impossible to express—guilt, anxiety, but in the end, she hardened her resolve. The souls in Niu Village were waiting for her to save them; she couldn’t waste any more time. She pressed her lips together, no longer looking at Cui Xun, and quickly walked away.