Jiangche was no stranger to death, but the prison cell before it was unlike anything it had ever witnessed in its existence. The blood energy surged to the heavens, and the resentful malice that belonged to the dead permeated without dispersing — and then there was that blood pool.

How much blood would it take to fill that basin? The blood had thickened into something like pulp.

Jiangche felt as though even its pristine white spiritual consciousness had been stained with a murky, bloody hue. Defiled.

Lang Jiuchuan arrived at this prison cell carved out of a mountain cave. The moment she stepped inside, the overpowering stench of blood hit her so fiercely that she staggered back two steps, tears forcing their way out of her eyes.

Left with no choice, she sealed off her sense of smell, silently recited the Mind-Clearing Incantation once through, and then walked forward.

Kong Xu Zi and the others all had their expressions change as well. This smell of blood was far too overwhelming — how many people would have had to die to make the stench this sharp and suffocating?

Upon entering the prison cell, everything was red — red stained with blood. Everywhere, symbols had been drawn in blood. The floor bore formation diagrams, and in one’s ears rang the wailing and howling of resentful ghosts. That poisonous, ear-grating sound of crying sent blood and qi churning, throwing one’s mind and spirit into complete disarray.

Everyone’s faces went pale.

Then they saw the blood pool still filled with that thick, viscous plasma. Something seemed to lurk at the bottom, causing the liquid to bubble and churn from time to time, as though something might leap out of it at any moment.

And looking closer, a few strands of hair floated in the pool — attached to bleached-white scalp, the hair cascading down like a waterfall.

Retch. Retch.

Someone who had taken in this sight finally could not hold back, and ran off to the side to retch violently.

Gong Shiliu was young and had rarely ventured outside the clan. He had never encountered a scene like this, and so his face had gone white as snow, his hands trembling slightly. He pressed close to Gong Qi’s side, forcing himself to appear composed.

Kong Xu Zi instinctively looked toward Lang Jiuchuan. The slender young woman was far calmer than anyone else present, and he found himself unconsciously walking over to stand beside her. He asked: “I wonder how the young lady came to find this place?”

She had not hesitated for even a moment — she had gone straight to this prison cell containing an entire sea of blood, as though someone had been guiding her.

Lang Jiuchuan paused, then drew from her sleeve a simple wooden figurine carved with a birth date, and said: “This junior had the birth date of that jiangshi and applied the Cause and Effect Talisman, which created a resonance through cause and effect.”

One could do that?

“You managed to find all this out?” Kong Xu Zi looked at the wooden figurine. He could tell it had been freshly carved — the surface was not smooth. But was it truly so?

Lang Jiuchuan naturally would not expose Jiangche. When she had found Cong Gui’s underworld plaque, she had used it to carve the figurine, preserving the birth date inscribed on it for future use.

This old Daoist was questioning her. If she needed to conceal Jiangche’s existence, she would have to use this as a deflection.

Lang Jiuchuan looked toward Gong Qi and said: “Gong Qi was the one who found it.”

Well — looks like he was going to have to play the shield again.

Gong Qi stepped forward and gave Kong Xu Zi a brief account of the matter at the Cong Family ancestral hall, including how they had traced the trail to Cong Bian. By now, Cong Bian had been executed — eliminated through the combined effort of himself, the abbot and several monks of Huguo Temple, and Lang Jiuchuan.

Though he had done his best to downplay Lang Jiuchuan’s contributions, Kong Xu Zi still heard clearly that everything was connected to the young woman before him, and that she had played a considerable role in all of it.

But Kong Xu Zi did not expose this. He only sighed and said: “Those who persist in wrongdoing will bring ruin upon themselves. Once one steps onto the path of evil, there is no turning back — one will eventually be consumed by the retribution of cause and effect. May we all take this as a mutual warning.”

Everyone clasped their hands and gave a Daoist bow.

Lang Jiuchuan exchanged a glance with Kong Xu Zi. He offered her a warm smile, and her eyes flickered faintly. Not everyone in the Xuan Clan was wicked.

She continued to survey the blood sea, then looked around the prison cell again. In her heart, she thought: this must be the jiangshi’s food store.

Where there is a sea of blood, there must be a mountain of corpses.

Since Princess Zhao’an was not here giving birth, it was possible that Cong Jingnian had taken her to the corpse mountain.

“Evil and demonic things emerge from places of extreme malice. Now that this sea of blood is here, only a mountain of corpses could cultivate a place of extreme malice — what does Senior think?” Lang Jiuchuan looked at Kong Xu Zi and asked.

Kong Xu Zi’s eyes brightened. “The young lady is absolutely right. This place contains the sea of blood, and for the convenience of disposing of corpses, the mountain of corpses cannot be far.”

“I ask Senior to go seek out the place of extreme malice.” Lang Jiuchuan said softly: “Leaving this blood sea as it is only adds to the malicious energy. This junior will come shortly.”

Kong Xu Zi raised an eyebrow. Lang Jiuchuan met his gaze without flinching, and so he turned and left, taking everyone with him — except for Gong Qi, and Gong Shiliu, who stubbornly refused to leave his side no matter what.

Lang Jiuchuan paid no mind. With others doing the legwork, she could conserve her own strength.

She took out talisman paper, then with her back to Gong Qi and the others, summoned her talisman brush and rapidly drew Five Thunder Talismans. Each completed talisman she handed to Gong Qi to go bury.

Gong Shiliu stared blankly.

A single spark of spiritual light, and the talisman was complete.

This younger sister of Gong Qi actually possessed such mastery of the Dao arts. No wonder she kept it concealed — if other Xuan Clan members saw this ability, they would be so envious they might want to swallow her whole.

Gong Shiliu then thought of himself, spending a full month to draw two protective talismans and feeling smug about it, and felt very ashamed.

After drawing several Five Thunder Talismans, Lang Jiuchuan drew a Supreme Salvation Ascension Precious Register in the empty air. Once the golden light had merged into midair, she sat down cross-legged on the ground, removed the Dizhong Bell from her waist, and swayed and shook her wrist.

Dong.

The bell’s tone rang out, mournful and clear — a soul-soothing, spirit-summoning sound.

A passage from the Supreme Deliverance Sutra flowed from her lips, her recitation like a spring of water, performing the rites of deliverance for the residual resentments and lingering souls trapped here, helping them on to their next life.

Gong Qi and Gong Shiliu could not help but stop and watch. Seeing her ignore the bloody filth on the ground and simply follow her heart’s intent in reciting the deliverance sutra, both were somewhat moved.

A true cultivator of the Dao is one who maintains a pure and original heart amid the mortal world — holding compassion, delivering people, delivering souls, and delivering oneself.

The bell’s sound drifted and faded.

The ghostly wails and sobbing that had been unable to pass on gradually fell silent, dispersing with the wind, leaving nothing but the hollow, foul-smelling prison cell.

Lang Jiuchuan finished reciting the Wangsheng Sutra and only then rose to her feet. She put away the Dizhong Bell and said to Gong Qi and the others: “It’s done. Let’s go.”

“But the talismans…” Gong Shiliu hesitated.

“No rush. Let’s get out first.”

Gong Qi grabbed him and followed Lang Jiuchuan outside. Once they had reached the exterior, Lang Jiuchuan stopped, took out paper and tore a paper figure, struck a hand seal upon it, and the paper figure hopped its way inside.

Shortly after, there came a thunderous succession of tremendous booms.

Like a dragon heaving underground.

The prison cell had been blown apart by the Five Thunder Talismans, and the blood malice energy that had surged to the sky spilled outward in a rush, only to be scattered by the righteous force of the Five Thunder Talismans. Gong Qi grabbed the oblivious young man and leapt several zhang in succession to avoid the blood malice energy from directly assailing their souls.

The tremendous sound caused all those searching for the corpse mountain to look back.

Kong Xu Zi saw the collapsed cave prison cell, silently recited a line of Wangsheng scripture, and continued forward.

And that tremendous sound also startled Cong Jingnian, who had been hiding at the corpse mountain. Looking toward the direction from which the great sound had come, his expression grew grave. He looked to the side where Princess Zhao’an lay, groaning in pain, her breath faint, his gaze falling on her slightly writhing abdomen — and he was, strangely, hesitating.

He gripped the long sword at his waist, then looked again at the jiangshi standing atop the ancient tomb, feeling the yin malice energy surging in from all four directions, growing ever more indecisive.

The night of the full moon was the optimal moment for a jiangshi transformation to come into being — yet it still fell somewhat short of the ideal hour that the Old Ancestor had calculated. What was he to do?

Indecision breeds disaster.

A phrase the Old Ancestor had once spoken seemed to explode inside his mind. Cong Jingnian’s eyes hardened, and he walked toward Princess Zhao’an and crouched down beside her.