“…Were you looking for me?”
The voice seemed to have just awakened from an ancient tomb, still carrying a hint of drowsiness. The embrace was without ulterior motives, more like an instinct to be close to a living person’s warmth.
Nan Yan was startled. She instinctively tried to turn and see who was behind her but found that the blood-colored flame silently burning the remnant candle only illuminated herself, not the face behind her. Even her divine sense could only detect that it was a youth-like figure.
He seemed entirely swallowed by darkness, only his cold embrace proving he was corporeal.
Nan Yan vaguely felt the voice was familiar. She broke free, asking, “Who are you?”
The youth didn’t force her, reluctantly releasing his hands but still staying close as he whispered, “Intruding into another’s domain—I should be the one asking that.”
Nan Yan fell silent. If he wasn’t speaking, she couldn’t sense his presence at all—the only explanation being he was far stronger than her.
She took a deep breath and said, “I’m just a cultivator seeking opportunities. Have you seen anyone else come here before us?”
“No living person has been here. You’re the freshest batch of sacrifices.”
Sacrifices?
His casual words sent chills down Nan Yan’s spine. She stood up, stepping back slightly, planning to ask one last question before disengaging: “Then, according to the Great Hall’s rules, I’m willing to light your remnant candle with my life-burning lamp. Can you tell me where that illusory formation ultimately leads?”
She kept slowly backing away, but the youth followed step by step, his voice emotionless.
“You can make any wish, but according to the prohibitions here, I must satisfy my craving.”
Nan Yan asked, “What do you want?”
Though she couldn’t see anything, she could feel the youth intently examining her in the darkness.
“I need sacrifices, many sacrifices,” the youth said.
Nan Yan’s heart tightened: “You want everyone here to die?”
The moment she finished speaking, an extremely cold aura permeated her body as something touched her forehead.
She couldn’t move. Then she felt cold fingers tracing from her temple to her neck. He seemed to particularly enjoy the warmth there, lingering for a long time.
“Their lives can’t satisfy me…” The youth’s voice carried a hint of confusion. “Why is everyone cold, but only you are warm?”
“…What?”
At that moment, the sound of fighting came from afar, appearing and disappearing quickly. Then Song Zhu’s voice carried from a distance—
“Zhengyuan! Someone triggered a thousand-year-old evil ghost. Come quickly if you hear me!”
Nan Yan immediately tried to struggle free. Just as she was about to break the icy restriction and leave, her right hand was stubbornly grabbed.
The youth’s voice, though still calm, now carried an unmistakable tone of grievance: “…You’re going with him?”
Nan Yan frowned and said, “I have nothing to offer as a sacrifice. Since you don’t intend to kill me, why hinder me?”
Song Zhu’s voice came again: “Where are you? Make a sound, and I’ll find you!”
Nan Yan’s desire to leave grew stronger. The youth, seemingly seeing through her thoughts as she struggled harder, said, “Don’t go. I’ll take you to find the person you’re looking for, okay?”
Nan Yan said, “Didn’t you say only dead people are here?”
The youth replied, “Yes, only dead people. Before you all came, a dead person carrying a zither arrived. Before he died, he awakened me a little. After you came, you drew me out further.”
“What… did you say?”
After that, Nan Yan’s mind went blank. His casual words seemed to hollow out her heart instantly. She could hear nothing else, not even reacting as the youth led her through endless darkness.
The ghost child in the Youquan River had said they were all dead.
The youth said only dead people had ever come here.
Too many had said it, but she always refused to accept it because he was still that omnipotent elder brother to her.
“Everything you’re looking for is here.”
It was a place like an altar. Broken candles surrounded it. The altar itself seemed split in two by some great force. Beyond the crack, a demon lord stone statue stood towering in the center. Before it was a throne built of white bones. The throne was empty, with a blank spirit tablet placed incongruously upon it.
The youth’s faint voice drifted out again: “That’s my spirit tablet, but the person who brought me here forgot to write my name. If you know it, can you tell me?”
“…”
Nan Yan didn’t hear what he was saying. Her bloodshot eyes only reflected a broken zither at the foot of the altar and trails of fresh blood winding up the steps.
“What is this?” Nan Yan asked woodenly.
“I know all the dead here, but only he is new,” the youth answered. “Before he came, he had over thirty demon-slaying seals from his sect on his body. It was already the limit for a mortal body. Probably… he perished before climbing the altar.”
As he said this, he felt a strange sensation in his heart. In the long years before, he had only repeatedly followed the responsibility given by the prohibition, constantly using the demon lord statue’s power to erode the entire realm between mountains and seas.
After his arrival, he experienced a peculiar sensation—perhaps best described as emotion.
“No, this…” Nan Yan, oblivious to the young man’s other peculiarities, slowly knelt beside the broken old zither. Unaware of the great battle that had unfolded here, she trembled as she reached out to touch the cold bloodstains on the strings, only to recoil as if burned.
“You…”
Ignoring him, Nan Yan shakily picked up the zither. Upon closer inspection, she noticed the character “Sick Wine” carved into the instrument’s head, causing her to lose all composure.
The young man stood beside her, confused and helpless. As he was about to inquire about her distress, a teardrop falling on the zither strings captivated him.
Nan Yan’s voice suddenly shifted as she murmured, “No, he’s not dead. He’s just hiding… just hiding…”
Just as Nan Yan was about to investigate the altar, a distant rumble of collapse echoed, followed by a shrill cry:
“This woman has obtained the candle!!!”
Several demonic cultivators appeared, accompanied by magical flames, their faces twisted with greed.
“Quick! Before others arrive, seize her Life-Burning Lamp!”
Nan Yan, her mind in turmoil, felt murderous intent rise within her. However, before she could act, the young man beside her moved first.
“Noisy,” he muttered disdainfully. As he raised his hand, the demonic lord’s statue behind him mirrored the action. Suddenly, half of the statue’s arm vanished.
In the blink of an eye, Nan Yan watched as the rapidly approaching Life-Burning Lamps disappeared amidst cries of astonishment. The statue’s arm returned, and the fresh blood on its hand swiftly absorbed into the stone.
“I only wanted to bring you here to see. Can’t you refrain from being sad?” The young man hesitated, seemingly concerned about Nan Yan’s earlier demeanor. Before he could continue, she lunged at him, creating a dagger from fire and plunging it into his chest.
Nan Yan heard the sound of jade shattering as she watched the Life-Burning Lamp’s flame gradually dim. “Is this how you killed him?” she asked.
Unfazed by her anger, the young man felt only pain from the wound, which caused no real damage.
“All the dead in this world will eventually be under my control. The person you seek—I can return him to you.”
As the prayer beads fell to the ground, Nan Yan’s rationality slowly returned. Hearing his offer, she asked hoarsely, “Very well, give Shao Cang back to me.”
The young man fell silent abruptly, then asked, “Can you repeat what you called him?”
“I called him Shao Cang. Can you return him to me?”
“Alright, I’ll give him back to you. But please… don’t lose him again.”
The surrounding darkness suddenly cracked with white lines. Nan Yan watched as everything shattered and reassembled like a broken mirror, finally forming a massive, ancient bronze mirror.
The mirror was missing a piece that perfectly matched the fragment she had obtained in the Treasure Pavilion—it was the Mirror of Reverse Reincarnation.
“In the past, only my master could call me by that name,” the young man said, a secret joy gradually expanding within him. The ancient mirror revealed his true face, previously hidden by darkness.
He was a transcendently handsome youth with gentle, elegant eyes. Placing his right hand over his restless heart, he said with delight and curiosity, “After my master severed this connection, no one ever mentioned it again… and no one was willing to use this name to summon me.”
A powerful force from the ancient mirror locked onto Nan Yan. Despite her attempts to linger and understand the situation, the mirror’s strength left her powerless to resist.
“A person can only possess another body once in their lifetime, but if the heart’s flame doesn’t extinguish, they can still reverse reincarnation and be reborn. When you complete the Mirror of Reverse Reincarnation, we… Never mind. My personality is wicked, and I’ll stop at nothing to obtain what I want. I hope you’ll be more understanding in the future.”
Which one is the real Shao Cang? Nan Yan wondered in confusion as she was pulled into the Mirror of Reverse Reincarnation. As her surroundings reassembled, she had no time for further distractions.
She found herself in a grand hall resembling an ancestral shrine. Cultivators in star-studded Daoist robes lined both sides, glaring at a figure forced to kneel before the Dao Venerable’s statue in the center.
“The 79th grave sin! As an emperor, instead of stabilizing the realm, you gathered accomplices to abuse your power and overthrow the pillars of the cultivation world!”
“The 80th grave sin! Ungrateful and disrespectful to the Dao Venerable, misinterpreting classics and supporting heresy! He deserves death!”
“Death! He deserves to die a thousand times!”
“Unworthy of his position! How can we allow him to remain in Minquan Hall!”
The young man, who should have been in his prime, faced all the accusations. His gaze fixed solely on a figure offering incense to the Dao Venerable’s statue, his clear eyes full of defiance and mockery.
“Master sent someone to the Hall of Justice saying he was gravely ill, asking me to return for a final word. I didn’t believe it at first, but now I have no choice but to accept it.”
Ying Zewui slowly turned around, kneeling before the Dao Venerable’s statue. He bowed respectfully and said, “A disciple’s misconduct is the master’s fault. I ask the Dao Venerable to punish me as well.”
As three swords slowly rose before the Dao Venerable’s statue, Ji Yang stared intently at it and spoke:
“Dao Venerable ancestor, if you truly have a spirit, you should know that those who don’t uphold righteousness shouldn’t pass judgment. I alone will decide, and I do not accept this punishment.”
Amidst the shocked and angry gazes of those around, the three sacred swords symbolizing Heaven’s punishment fell from the Dao Venerable’s statue. However, before the last sword could fall, Ying Zewui reached out and caught it, then turned and plunged it into his chest.
As blood trickled out, Ying Zewui slowly pulled out the sword and turned to face Ji Yang.
“Your master has accepted his punishment. Now it’s your turn. Please, Your Majesty… take responsibility for this.”