“How strange you are. Trading your face for a mere female cultivator…” The Prison Lord sneered, rising from his throne. His remaining hand beckoned, lifting the masked Nascent Soul cultivator. As the bone hand tightened, the man’s body began to crumble with sickening cracks, blood bursting from his limbs.
“I thought all who came to the Yellow Springs were demon cultivators. Where did you get this spiritual power that disgusts me so?”
The masked cultivator coughed up blood but showed no fear. He glared fiercely at Ji Yang. “Lord of the Yellow Springs… Ha! That position isn’t yours! Do you dare obstruct my sect’s thousand-year plan? Don’t you fear your masters will ensure you neither live well nor find peace in death?”
The words sounded familiar to Nan Yan. She tried to lift her veil to see the masked cultivator’s face, but Ji Yang stopped her, even blocking her divine sense, as if unwilling to let her recognize him.
Ji Yang let out a mocking laugh. Nan Yan felt inexplicably anxious. As he turned, she instinctively grabbed his sleeve.
Ji Yang paused briefly. His cold fingers gripped her hand, slowly making her let go—the first time he hadn’t stopped for her plea.
“Neither live well nor find peace in death? Uncle Master Zhu is too gentle. When it comes to torment, masters are always the cruelest.” Ji Yang approached the man. “Let’s skip the reunion talk. I’ll guess: Uncle Master Zhu planned to sneak into the Yellow Springs and collaborate with his Void State main body?”
This masked Nascent Soul cultivator, who had been so calm, was just an avatar of a Void State cultivator.
Nan Yan recalled her master’s suffering monk avatar in Fan State. Reportedly, everything between the avatar and the main body could be shared upon the avatar’s return.
As expected, the cultivator Ji Yang called Uncle Zhu hissed, “In this world, only the Dao of Heaven is eternal. Why can’t you understand our good intentions?!”
“Is that so? To me, you’re just a group of cultivators nearing the end of your lifespans, selfishly disrupting the cycle of reincarnation to extend your lives. You’re keeping countless souls caged like pigs and dogs, unable to move on… That’s all.”
Ji Yang’s words seemed to touch a painful memory for the Prison Lord.
“I admit, humans have indeed achieved deicide. But the Heavenly Dao exists within the cycle of reincarnation, never manipulated by human hands. Interfering with reincarnation is either your delusion or… Wake up!”
The giant bone hand finally crushed Zhu Sui’s Nascent Soul body. From the scattered blood, his Nascent Soul emerged, wrapped in a Dao talisman, shouting—
“With my divided soul, I summon my true self. Open!”
Instantly, space rippled. The Dao talisman spun and burst, releasing an extraordinary wave through the hall.
Nan Yan’s mind roared. Besides the incident in Chen State, she had never faced such a powerful presence.
It was… a Void State cultivator!
But this Void State cultivator didn’t seem composed. He entered with a grim face, sweeping away everything near the transmission point. After ensuring no one had followed him, he surveyed the hall.
His avatar merged back quickly. His pupils contracted as he spotted Ji Yang, unleashing a devastating palm strike.
“We couldn’t catch you during the multi-State manhunt over a decade ago. I knew you’d become a threat… What an unexpected pleasure!”
But the Prison Lord wouldn’t allow such insolence. He snorted, summoning nearby bone spirits, crushing them into a bone spear, and hurling it at Zhu Sui.
“Though I’m just a remnant soul, I still possess the power of the Second Heavenly Tribulation. How dare humans rampage in the Yellow Springs!”
As they clashed, bones flew and pillars cracked. Nan Yan’s ears stung. Suddenly, her restraints loosened, and Ji Yang pulled her away.
“Are we leaving them?”
“No need. Zhu Sui is no match for the Prison Lord. The real threat is the power he’s summoned from Dao Sheng Tian.”
“How do we rescue Big Brother and Second Brother now?”
Nan Yan followed him quickly, leaving the battling powerhouses. Ji Yang led her into a pre-arranged teleportation array. In a blink, they passed through the starry sky above, arriving at the tower’s top.
The sky was now a clear blue, with the sun about to leap from the east. From the tower’s peak, Nan Yan saw wandering souls below the Eighteen Hells Tower returning to their dwellings like farmers going home. New cultivator ghosts had joined their ranks.
“If you set a trap, you should have limits. Excessive killing will ultimately bring karmic retribution upon yourself.”
“You’re right, A-Yan. I’ll strive to improve in the future, not letting your efforts to guide me go to waste.”
“Hm? You’re so agreeable now. Weren’t you quite confrontational with that Void State master earlier?”
Ji Yang replied, “I once had a teacher who always claimed his decisions were infallible. But in the end, he was wrong. I learned from him, often acting without scruples. But I don’t want to follow his misguided path.”
Nan Yan turned to look at the tower’s top. It was a vast platform where the six-armed beast she had seen in the ghost city stood at the center, holding a blue flame in its mouth containing the true form of the Yellow Springs Prison Lord’s crown.
It wasn’t a statue, but resembled the sealed corpse Nan Yan had seen in the Crimson Emperor’s Jade Palace.
“This is the Prison Guardian Spirit,” Ji Yang explained. “Only with its approval can one truly become the Prison Lord. I left guiding talismans for Zhan Ting and Yin Ya. Once I create a teleportation array, they can come here, open the Yellow Springs exit, and we can leave.”
He cast a series of mystical incantations, soon opening another array at the Guardian Spirit’s feet.
As the array activated, Ji Yang suddenly seemed tired. He sat down, quickly glanced at a thin book from his pocket, and then tucked it away with a soft sigh.
If Ji Yang had maintained his usual all-knowing demeanor, Nan Yan might have teased him. But his sudden vulnerable sigh made her anxious. She lifted a corner of her veil and asked cautiously, “Are you alright? Do you need me to recite some scriptures to calm you down?”
Ji Yang lowered his gaze slightly. His usually serene face, illuminated by the array’s dim light, looked somewhat forlorn.
“As you can see, my actions have defied my masters, leading to my abandonment by the sect. Years of resentment have poisoned my heart. Sometimes, even I find my methods excessive upon reflection.”
This was the first time Nan Yan had seen him introspective. Her compassionate Buddhist nature shone through. “Indeed, compassion resides in every heart. It’s an innate human quality. One day, when you lay down your blade, you’ll find true peace…”
Ji Yang listened attentively to her Buddhist teachings. Gradually, his expression softened. “Is A-Yan at peace now?”
“My heart still has worldly attachments. But my karma is heavy. After guiding you to the righteous path, I fear I’ll have to endure hell’s fires to attain enlightenment.”
Ji Yang lowered his eyes. “If you’re in hell, I’ll forsake paradise.”
Nan Yan, still human after all, looked down. “With so many complex matters, that’s just a figure of speech. I don’t understand, though. We’ve been apart for years, and you never seemed fond of such closeness. Why now… Shao Cang?”
Ji Yang couldn’t explain it himself. He just felt that with her, life’s hardships were bearable. Without her, even controlling life and death in the underworld couldn’t ease his addiction to her presence.
“Shao Cang?”
Seeing him lost in thought, Nan Yan waved her hand in front of his face. He looked up, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes, and moved slightly away.
His soul fire had depleted significantly, making it hard to control his gaze when Nan Yan moved closer.
“My spiritual power is low. Could you spare me some, A-Yan?” he asked.
Nan Yan hesitated. “My spiritual power is heavily imbued with Buddhist energy. It might harm you. How should we do this?”
“I can’t leave my position. Just embrace me, and I’ll draw it from you.”
Perhaps due to his exhausted appearance, Nan Yan relented. She rolled up her sleeves, closed her eyes, and hugged his waist.
“Is this okay?”
“A bit tighter.”
“A-alright.”
Nan Yan rested her chin on his shoulder, noting his closed eyes and stillness. Feeling a hint of childhood familiarity, she began reminiscing to ease the awkward atmosphere.
“Back at Yangyue Sect, I disliked evening classes. Children get so sleepy. You’d always carry me back and tuck me in.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“That sky-walking fish you gave me? I swore eternal love to it one night, only for a cat to catch it the next day. Afraid you’d find out, I bought another with my spirit stones.”
“Oh?”
“It didn’t help much. A curly-tusked boar from the Beast Hall ate it when I took it out to play.”
“And then?”
“Big Brother and I teamed up to eat that pig.”
“…”
Nan Yan continued chattering about old times, trying to relax him.
In truth, a demonic cultivator and a Buddhist cultivator nearby were uncomfortable. They had to endure the clash of their opposing energies like two porcupines pricking each other.
Ji Yang listened and nodded, but his expression wasn’t as gentle as his words. A blood-red tinge gradually spread across his face.
Buddhist cultivators always seemed clean and pure. Their smooth, fair skin carried a scent like forbidden Buddhist flowers. It felt as if one bite could reignite his fading soul fire.
Struggling to close his eyes, Ji Yang leaned close to her ear. “Back then, I thought our childhood friendship should remain pure. This constant intimacy felt wrong. My desires are too strong; I feared I might do something inappropriate.”
“Like what?”
“Like… desecrating the Buddha.”
“…”
Fortunately, the teleportation array activated at that moment, erupting in a brilliant light. Numerous figures emerged amid a clamor.
“Why are there so many people?” Nan Yan wondered aloud as Ji Yang pulled her aside. Yin Ya and Mu Zhan Ting burst out first, followed by a crowd of people, some with skulls still biting them, looking quite disheveled.
“Damn, that was terrifying. Those ghost things were swapping heads with anyone they caught. Poor old man lost all his beautiful hair to those ghosts,” someone complained.
As people caught their breath and exited the array, they split into two factions: demonic cultivators on the left and a surprisingly large group of righteous cultivators on the right, glaring at each other.
Han Lei Zi and Li Mian were among them. The demonic cultivators, though powerful, seemed to have only 10-20% of their spiritual power left, while the righteous cultivators, though disheveled, appeared energetic.
“Let’s all calm down for a moment,” someone suggested. “Now that we all know this tower is for competing for the Yellow Springs Prison Lord position, why don’t we each use our abilities to claim the crown? Let’s make a soul oath: whoever gets the crown, we all leave together.”
Ji Yang nodded slightly to Nan Yan as they approached the crowd. “Those who’ve survived this far aren’t fools.”
As he was about to call Nan Yan, he saw her bend down to pick up a thin book from the ground. His calm expression suddenly stiffened, and he awkwardly turned away.
“Art of War, Chapter Three: Appear weak to advance, retreat to gain sympathy,” Nan Yan read aloud. She closed the book and flipped to the last page. “Matchmaker’s Art of War… Volume Seven.”
Ji Yang: “…Can I have a moment to think of an excuse?”
Nan Yan’s eyes dulled with disappointment. “No need. Big Brother’s a literary genius, Second Brother’s a sister, and I thought you were my one pure land. Turns out you’re a demon too. Don’t explain. The mortal world isn’t worth it. I’m returning to the temple tomorrow to become a nun. I’m cutting ties with you idiotic brothers for good.”