“Big brother, I’m so hungry. Let me have a bite,” pleaded the charred, small child. Its bony arm, gripping Nan Yan’s ankle, revealed scorched and rotting flesh. As Nan Yan looked down, she noticed only half a foot beneath the child’s tattered trouser leg.
Ji Yang paused, freeing one hand to touch the child’s forehead. Instantly, the child’s hollow eyes gained a spark of life, as if nourished by an unseen force.
When Ji Yang withdrew his hand, the child’s hunger seemed to subside. It released Nan Yan’s ankle but continued to stare at her, saying, “This sister smells so good.”
Though the child’s voice was innocent, Nan Yan felt a chill run down her spine. Instinctively, she tightened her grip on Ji Yang’s shoulder.
Ji Yang shifted slightly, shielding Nan Yan from the child. With an almost compassionate tone, he said, “Brother is also struggling. Please bear with it for now.”
The charred child nodded but didn’t leave. Following them, it asked, “We’re both dead. Why won’t you let me eat? Is she your bride?”
“…Both dead?” Nan Yan stiffened against Ji Yang’s back.
Feeling her tension, Ji Yang chuckled softly and shook his head. “She’s… not yet. If you’re still hungry, look for others here with heavy resentment. You can eat them.”
The child uttered a soft “Oh” and reluctantly walked away, glancing back repeatedly.
Nan Yan tightened her grip on Ji Yang’s shoulder, noting that his skin felt cooler than a typical living person’s, yet undeniably alive.
“Ask whatever you want,” Ji Yang said.
“Why did that ghost child say you’re both dead?” Nan Yan questioned.
Ji Yang remained silent. Nan Yan felt as if ice shards were piercing her heart, her eyes reddening.
“I thought… I thought you had turned to demonic cultivation and were unwilling to speak of the past. But beneath that foul valley, you were already—”
“Where are your thoughts wandering?” Ji Yang laughed. “This matter is unseemly to discuss, but since you’re uneasy, I’ll set your mind at ease.”
Nan Yan’s brow furrowed as Ji Yang set her down on a three-foot-high wall. Before she could voice her confusion, he placed the Yellow Springs Mirror in her palm and covered it with his hand.
A thunderous noise filled Nan Yan’s mind as blurry images appeared before her eyes. She saw a silent, flowing river where souls of the dead drifted beneath tumultuous waves. Though unfamiliar, Nan Yan knew instinctively that this was the Yellow Springs—the realm where the dead found peace and rebirth.
The perspective shifted, and Nan Yan felt herself become one of those souls, floating toward her destined rebirth. The Yellow Springs possessed a strange power that gradually erased all memories of one’s past life. Nan Yan’s consciousness began to blur.
Just before losing awareness, she heard a familiar voice from the riverbank: “Where are you…”
Nan Yan snapped to attention. Though she couldn’t recall other words, this phrase was etched into her memory for years.
It was during her second year as a Buddhist disciple when she desperately sought news about the Foul Valley incident. Unable to locate Mu Zhanting and Ji Yang, she only learned from Master Chiku that Mu Zhanting’s life force still burned, albeit missing. As for Ji Yang, after the valley was sealed by envoys from the Upper State, no news surfaced.
Everyone, including Master Chiku, believed Ji Yang had likely perished.
From that moment, Nan Yan’s personality changed. She abandoned her childish innocence, emulating the most ascetic monks in the temple. She spent long, sleepless nights poring over ancient scriptures by candlelight.
Occasionally, in the dead of night, she would gaze at the stars, softly repeating their names.
Though souls in the Yellow Springs were mere shadows incapable of feeling pain, Nan Yan noticed a red string tied to her wrist. Its origin traced back to where her childhood voice had come from.
Yet the red string was fragile. Under the river’s relentless current, it soon broke.
Later, just as his consciousness was about to vanish, the red string would reappear, calling his name, pulling his memories back to be carefully polished and cleaned.
He surfaced from the Yellow Springs multiple times. With each emergence, Nan Yan noticed her shadow growing—from an awkward, ugly child to a graceful figure with refined features.
Her calls transformed into silent musings, recounting old memories or fretting over cultivation obstacles. These fragments became threads of the red string, each appearance tethering him once more.
As she truly began her path as a monk, Ji Yang’s remnant soul seemed to sense her increasingly detached heart rhythm. He started consciously grasping that thin red line.
“When I’ve slain all demons in this world, may we never meet again in the netherworld.”
This marked Nan Yan’s first true commitment to the Buddhist path, while Ji Yang grew visibly agitated.
Countless dead souls in the Yellow Springs resonated, their myriad emotions—joy, anger, sorrow, and love—transforming into spiritual energy that mended his tattered soul…
When Nan Yan awoke, she found herself resting her chin on Ji Yang’s shoulder, her heart a tumult of emotions, unwilling to move.
“What about the rest? Why won’t you show me?” she asked.
“What’s there to see? Just the usual tale of overcoming obstacles and fighting my way back from the netherworld to the mortal realm. You’ve read better stories in novels,” Ji Yang said, gently stroking her long hair. “So you see, with this body full of emotions and desires, seeing you by my side daily, hearing you call my name, yet watching you maintain that ascetic, Buddhist demeanor when I get close—isn’t that torturous?”
Nan Yan’s lips twitched, disbelieving his words but deeply puzzled.
Noticing the ghosts around them settling into their chosen houses, she extricated herself from his embrace. Donning a pair of hemp sandals favored by Buddhist practitioners, she asked, “But what about that red string on the Yellow Springs’ shore? I’ve never heard of someone thinking of another from thousands of miles away and having their thoughts heard. When I was studying Buddhist scriptures, I often cursed my brother behind his back, yet he never dreamed of us once during his ten years in Chen State.”
Ji Yang still avoided a direct answer, speaking with a serious tone: “I’ve always believed this was heaven-sent fate. My return from death’s door is truly thanks to Ah Yan’s constant thoughts—”
“Stop. Someone’s coming,” Nan Yan interrupted.
She heard distant cursing and stumbling footsteps approaching. Sensing a powerful Yuanying aura, Nan Yan pulled Ji Yang behind a nearby wall.
As the green fireflies dimmed, they saw Li Mian, disheveled and clutching her right cheek, being dragged along by Han Leizi. Surprisingly, the ugly Elder Yu from the Wuxiang Sect accompanied them.
Han Leizi’s face was grim. “It’s unheard of. Those bone rats were endless. If not for my resources, we might have perished there.”
Though equally disheveled, Elder Yu’s expression remained normal. He bowed obsequiously, saying, “Master Han, you saw how I sacrificed my partner of over twenty years to protect Miss Mian.”
They had been closest to the well where the bone rats erupted. Normally, only their physical bodies would have been destroyed, leaving their Yuanying to escape. However, Elder Yu ruthlessly used his Wuxiang Sect companion to block the well.
Han Leizi recalled the unfortunate Yuanying’s final curse as it fled its destroyed body. He sneered, “You truly embody the spirit of Sizhou’s demonic cultivators. For saving Miss Mian in that critical moment, I can offer you an elder position in Tianxie Dao.”
Hearing this, Elder Yu was overjoyed. Tianxie Dao was Sizhou’s largest sect. As he prepared to flatter Li Mian further, she unleashed a torrent of abuse.
“If you truly wanted to join Tianxie Dao, why didn’t you throw more of your sect members into the well? You let rats bite my face!” Li Mian had been closest to the well. Though protected by Yuxie Hou’s treasure, it only safeguarded her vital areas, leaving her face vulnerable to the rats’ bites.
“Enough,” Han Leizi interjected, noting their limited time. Looking up at the massive eighteen-story tower with blue flames, he said, “Miss Mian, we can have the Pill King treat your face upon our return. For now, let’s focus on finding… Who’s there?!”
Han Leizi, a renowned expert, quickly sensed an unusual presence. As he moved to attack, he exclaimed in surprise, “Yin, is that you?”
Yin was Ji Yang’s alias in Tianxie Dao. Discovered by Han Leizi, he calmly gripped Nan Yan’s hand and said, “I was just wondering where to find Uncle Han, and here you are.”
“Brother Yin?” Li Mian’s previously vicious eyes instantly welled up with tears. She ran over, about to complain, when she noticed Ji Yang and Nan Yan’s clasped hands. Her gaze turned murderous.
“Brother Yin, this woman just caused the rat plague that nearly killed us! I’ll kill her now to avenge our fallen comrades!”
Knowing Li Mian was misdirecting her anger, Han Leizi coughed and stopped her. “You haven’t explained why you’re here, or why this Buddhist cultivator is with you.”
Ji Yang seemed to enjoy Li Mian’s aggressive display before adopting an honest yet irritating demeanor. “Uncle Han, I simply couldn’t resist this bodhisattva’s charm. We were caught up in a romantic moment.”
Nan Yan was speechless. With ghosts everywhere, where were the flowers and moonlight he spoke of?
She watched Li Mian’s face turn purple, her gaze murderous.
“Are you deliberately provoking her?” Nan Yan whispered.
Ji Yang replied elegantly, “Occasionally, watching someone’s fury can be quite refreshing.”
Nan Yan retorted, “I was young and naive back then. How did I never notice your awful personality?”
“You flatter me,” Ji Yang responded. “My junior brother used to say the same.”
Before Nan Yan could wonder which junior brother he meant, Han Leizi spoke up: “As the Vice Sect Master’s disciple overseeing this matter, do you have any insights into the strange occurrences in this ghost city?”
Ji Yang explained, “Master once said this ghost city is a tomb complex, impossible to exit unless one reaches the化神 (Huashen) stage and breaks through the outer barrier using quasi-void methods. Anticipating this, he set up a void transmission array in the central eighteen-story tower during his last visit.”
Han Leizi was elated. “The Vice Sect Master is indeed thorough. Is there any other information?”
“Well…” Ji Yang’s lips curled into a slightly malicious smile. “He mentioned this place is a soul-nurturing pool for the Youquan River. Whoever is destined for the imperial crown atop the tower may become the Lord of Youquan Prison.”
Everyone looked confused, except Han Leizi, whose face twitched slightly. A flash of disbelief and wild joy crossed his eyes before he feigned ignorance. “What does that mean?”
Noticing Han Leizi’s inner turmoil, Ji Yang said, “I only overheard Master’s private musings. I don’t know the details.”
“In that case, let’s not waste time. We should head to the tower before the next ghost patrol,” Han Leizi suggested.
As they moved quickly, Li Mian lagged slightly behind, her initial anger turning to resentment as she watched Ji Yang’s hand still holding Nan Yan’s.
“Miss Mian,” Elder Yu transmitted telepathically, “I’ve heard you’re skilled at creating human skin masks. If you’re truly upset, perhaps…”
“You mean skin that Buddhist nun alive?” Li Mian scoffed. “She’s merely above average. I only work with true beauties.”
Elder Yu chuckled, “I wasn’t referring to her. She arrived with a sister whose beauty, though veiled, is likely among the top five in the world. Moreover, her graceful demeanor closely resembles Lady Nanfang.”
“Oh?” Li Mian’s interest was piqued. “My brother has pined for Lady Nanfang for years, finding countless similar concubines, yet none come close. Finding such a beauty would be ideal, but in this vast ghost city, where survival is uncertain, how can we locate her?”
Elder Yu grinned, producing a strange insect from his storage pouch. “I have a habit of secretly applying an odorless powder to beauties I admire. Only this scent-tracking bug can detect it. Just now, it reacted. She’s nearby!”