The north wind shrieked, cold enough to sting the skin raw.

Huguo Temple was the great temple of Wu Jing, prosperous in incense offerings and thronged with worshippers. The new year had not yet fully passed, and there were still many worshippers remaining within the temple grounds.

At dusk as the sun set low, lay devotees and believers made their way to the Great Hall to listen to the monks recite scriptures. Yet they found the north wind unusually fierce and biting, and as the sky darkened the oppressive air pressure made the heart feel uneasy, as though one could not draw a full breath.

Some among the worshippers couldn’t help but recall the incident at the rear of the mountain involving the distinguished young woman on the first day of the new year, and immediately shuddered, quickening their pace toward the great hall.

Amitabha, may the Buddha protect us and prevent all evil spirits from daring to manifest.

Lang Jiuchuan cradled the straw figure, her brow cold and her Dao-intent surging, as she watched Cong Bian straining violently against her. Her fingertip traced a circle around the straw figure: “Heaven made clear and earth made pure — filth broken, obstruction swept away. I now invoke the Five Paths, ten thousand divine generals of heaven’s road: seize this soul before the altar. Should any dare to disobey, divine fire shall extinguish its form — by sacred decree!”

A formidable power tensed at her fingertips, and as her two fingers drew circles upon the straw figure, that power transformed into a rope of fire, binding the straw figure tightly.

Bind the body; seize the soul.

The moment Lang Jiuchuan completed this binding, Abbot Xuanneng shifted his incantation and began reciting the Six-Syllable True Mantra, striking the wooden fish with forceful, rhythmic blows.

The gale intensified.

Something was racing toward them from a thousand li away, carrying boundless hatred and ferocious sinister energy.

Gong Qi’s eyes turned sharp and severe, his soul-locking chain gripped in his hand as he readied himself.

In an instant, a ghost-soul wreathed in black energy was hauled before the altar. Without giving anyone time to react, it erupted with a tremendous surge of ferocious sinister force and lunged straight at Lang Jiuchuan.

“So it was you, this yellow-haired brat, who ruined my plans? Die!” Cong Bian’s hatred blazed skyward, his sinister energy towering toward the heavens, plunging this section of the Buddhist courtyard into black and stifling darkness, like the eve of annihilation.

Abbot Xuanneng remained utterly unmoved, continuing to recite the Diamond Sutra, his wooden fish sounding on without pause. The monks behind him likewise followed the abbot’s lead, chanting the Diamond Sutra in unison.

The sutra and incantation seemed to transform into Sanskrit script wreathed in golden light, cleaving through the sinister fog of dark energy and leaving all evil creatures with nowhere to hide.

As expected — the moment this sutra sounded, it carried an all-consuming authority that caused Cong Bian’s ghost-soul to nearly crumble apart.

The enemy had come prepared and laid a heaven-spanning net to exterminate him here.

He sensed immediately that this was dire — and turned to flee.

“Gong Qi.”

Gong Qi’s Crimson Flame Soul-Locking Chain shot out like a living serpent and coiled around Cong Bian’s ghost-soul, leaving him unable to break free.

“You deserve to die!” Cong Bian’s eyes split with rage, the black energy on his body growing denser and darker.

He hated — how he hated! A hundred years of planning, destroyed in an instant. He was even going to lose his life here. He refused to accept this!

The black energy emanating from within Cong Bian’s soul enveloped him on all sides.

Abbot Xuanneng’s brow furrowed. Was this a descent into demonic corruption?

Gong Qi formed a hand seal with one hand and channeled his Dao-intent into the soul-locking chain. The chain immediately erupted in fierce blazing flames, incinerating Cong Bian’s ghost-soul.

Black energy and raging fire clashed in opposition, both growing more and more intense.

Something was wrong.

Hadn’t Lang Jiuchuan said he had suffered a backlash? He had only his soul left now — how did he still possess such power?

“Amitabha! One who falls into demonic corruption shall be trapped in ten thousand kalpas of suffering with no release. Wretched creature — will you still not let go of your obsession?” Abbot Xuanneng suddenly rose to his feet and reprimanded in a thunderous voice.

What — he’s on the verge of demonic corruption?

Gong Qi’s heart sank. Then his chest suddenly stabbed with pain — the chain burst apart. Cong Bian broke free from the blazing flames and floated into the air, the black energy above him towering like a pillar.

“You destroyed my plans — I want you all dead.” Cong Bian let out a cold and eerie laugh. Let go of his obsession? A hundred years of careful strategy, ruined by these children — and they told him to let it go? Preposterous!

First they had pressed him, step by step, until he had no choice but to destroy his own physical body to preserve his primordial soul. Then they had used the Thousand-Li Soul-Seizing Ritual to drag his ghost-soul here for elimination. And now this shaven-headed old donkey was telling him to let go of his obsession?

Let go? He only wished he could slaughter all of them, kill their bodies and devour their souls!

Things had come to this pass — it seemed he could no longer reincarnate into the Princess’s unborn child. If he wanted to continue to exist in this world, only one path remained.

Demonic corruption.

This was what he had deduced from the great legacy left behind by the demonic practitioner Kong Jin, whose path he had studied deeply. If Kong Jin could fall into the demonic way, why couldn’t he?

Once corrupted into a demon, he too could cultivate the demonic path. With his natural gifts, he would certainly become an Ancestor-Demon, feared throughout all the world.

He had not wished to become a demon. In his heart, he had once wanted to guard the lives of the people through the righteous path. They were the ones who had forced him into this dead end.

The more Cong Bian dwelt on this, the denser the black energy around him grew — and it gradually turned a deep, dark red. He no longer held back any of his soul’s remaining power, but staked everything upon it: a hundred years of cultivation — thought-power, spiritual power, and soul-force.

Using his thought-power as a blade, he began to carve and inscribe demonic runes upon his soul. With each rune he carved, he recited one passage of the demonic path’s sacred texts, and sacrificed one portion of his soul to the demonic powers.

Everyone watching wore grave expressions.

Abbot Xuanneng hung his prayer beads upon his chest and thundered: “Wretched creature — you persist in your delusions!”

He formed a Buddhist seal with both hands, reciting a stream of words under his breath. Decades of accumulated merit were channeled into the Six-Syllable True Mantra, the Buddhist radiance blazing brilliantly as it struck toward Cong Bian.

Gong Qi hesitated no longer. The Five-Thunder Talismans from his sleeve came flying toward Cong Bian one after another as though they cost nothing.

Thunder and lightning laden with celestial force swept toward Cong Bian. Combined with the radiance of the Buddhist light, it caused Cong Bian’s ghost-soul to turn semi-transparent — which only made him more furious, accelerating the speed at which he carved the demonic runes.

The demonic energy was taking form.

The junior monks with weaker cultivation were enticed and tempted by the demonic energy, and fell into a daze — and began attacking Abbot Xuanneng and Gong Qi.

Gong Qi’s alarm spiked. He looked toward Lang Jiuchuan — what was she doing?

Lang Jiuchuan was staring directly at Cong Bian. She saw the excitement and craving in the depths of his eyes — he wanted to devour her soul alive.

Cong Bian’s gaze burned with intensity. This woman’s ghost-soul was extraordinary. One of the conditions for demonic corruption was to devour a living soul as kindling — to forge an indestructible demonic body, such that the demonic fire would burn on endlessly, impossible to extinguish.

He was going to devour her alive!

Lang Jiuchuan suddenly smiled at him. Let’s see who ends up devouring whom.

Cong Bian: “?”

Lang Jiuchuan turned her hand over and flung something outward — in her hand, seemingly from thin air, appeared a small pagoda of gleaming black suffused with purple. She hurled it toward him.

Cong Bian was struck with alarm. In that split second of distraction, the blade forged from his soul-force instantly crumbled to ash and vanished. The half-completed demonic runes reversed in an instant and turned into ravening beasts that began gnawing and biting into his own soul.

But that was not what frightened him most. It was that small pagoda — from it he sensed a threat of enormous magnitude.

Cong Bian turned to flee. But the pagoda had already locked onto him. The thunder-force upon the pagoda’s surface spread out like a vast net, binding him tight within it — inescapable. Wherever the lightning net touched, his ghost-soul felt as though it were being seared in the fires of hell, the pain beyond endurance.

“No!“

The pagoda abruptly drew in its net and absorbed Cong Bian’s already semi-transparent ghost-soul within.

The moment Cong Bian vanished, the demonic energy in the Buddhist courtyard scattered and dissipated in an instant — wind stilled, waves calmed.

Lang Jiuchuan held the small pagoda in her hands. With a single movement of her intention, the formation within the pagoda meant to suppress and destroy malevolent souls was activated, and it ground Cong Bian within it relentlessly.

Cong Bian let out a wretched, agonized cry.

It’s over!

That was the last flicker of thought to surface in Cong Bian’s consciousness.

This time it was truly over. Not the false death and destitution from a hundred years ago, not merely the loss of a physical body — but his ghost-soul, now no longer whole. Once a ghost-soul dissolved into nothingness, there would be no more Cong Bian left in this world.

“Wooden Fish!” Lang Jiuchuan said through gritted teeth. “Your weapon — it is time to unseal it.”