Zhou Zixi was imprisoned beneath Grievance Pagoda Mountain on Wandering Isle. Although the Wandering Tribe and the pilgrims had killed him countless times only to revive him, they had not destroyed his life meridian to truly kill him.

Because it wasn’t time yet.

This Ghost Tribe member possessed tenacious vitality, an extreme temperament, and would always seek revenge. He was constantly looking for ways to escape.

The altar had a natural formation suppressing Zhou Zixi’s power. He couldn’t leave this place, could not commit suicide, and had no thoughts of suicide either.

At least until today—that’s what Shu Sheng and the Wandering Tribe had believed.

Until just now, when they suddenly discovered they could no longer see Zhou Zixi’s life meridian, nor could they stop the killing intent of that broken arrow.

Seeing Zhou Zixi grab the broken arrow to prevent it from advancing further, both the young man and Shu Sheng quietly sighed in relief.

“Star Fragment Script,” Shu Sheng’s voice, though gentle, carried an unusual and obvious coldness. “So this is what you had those ghosts outside and your senior sister did for you—bringing you Tai Yi’s Star Fragment Script to neutralize the altar formation’s suppression of your power, giving you some ability to resist.”

Otherwise, their Qi Circulation word spells wouldn’t have been neutralized and blocked.

“The Star Fragment Script works surprisingly well in this place. I can’t get out, but you can’t kill me here either.”

Zhou Zixi forcefully pulled out the broken arrow. The residual star power on the arrow left his hand covered in blood. The arrow emitted a low humming sound, as if extremely dissatisfied that someone had blocked it.

After hearing this, the young man showed neither annoyance nor anger, still smiling with narrowed eyes. “You’re the cleverest ghost I’ve ever seen. Are you trying to hide your life meridian to buy time?”

Zhou Zixi replied coldly: “If you say so.”

“It seems you’re like everyone else—afraid of death and willing to do anything to stay alive. Since you’ve hidden your life meridian, you won’t die anytime soon. Before I find your life meridian again, continue playing with the old things in this Grievance Pagoda.”

The young man waved his hand dismissively and walked away.

As he walked, thin black mist rose from the ground. Vague, distorted black shadows appeared all over the vast altar, fixating on the man atop the pile of bones while whispering among themselves.

When Shu Sheng, followed by the silent Fang Hui, caught up with the young man and left, the distorted black shadows surrounding the altar howled and rushed to kill Zhou Zixi. The sound of breaking bones rang out continuously.

Fang Hui listened with chills running down his spine, not daring to look back.

He heard the sound of shattering, but no screams or wails. So when he left this gloomy, cold place, he glanced back:

The ghost atop the pile of bones had been torn apart by the black shadows, no longer resembling a human.

Fang Hui quickly withdrew his gaze and followed Shu Sheng with his head lowered.

*

Outside, the spring sunshine was brilliant, and the mountain flowers were in full bloom. One look was enough to dispel the gloom in one’s heart, leaving only memories of this world’s beauty that one couldn’t bear to destroy.

The young man walking in front raised his head to look at the flowering branches on the trees. He reached out but found he couldn’t grasp the particular branch he wanted, and so he sighed.

Qiu Lang, following at the young man’s side, glanced over.

The young man didn’t give up. Instead, with great enthusiasm, he began climbing the tree. His target was clear—his outstretched hand passed through the dense clusters of flowers, directly toward the branch he most desired.

“Ah, got it!” The young man happily waved the flower branch in his hand at Qiu Lang below the tree.

Qiu Lang said, “Why make things so complicated?”

As the young man climbed down, he said, “Not everything should rely on star meridian power. When ordinary people want to pick flowers, they have to climb trees or find suitable tools.”

He patted the flower petals and leaves that had fallen on his shoulders, smiling with narrowed eyes: “Whether with power or without, when people want to obtain something they desire, they always find ways.”

Qiu Lang said coldly, “Stop with all these grand principles. I don’t like hearing them.”

The young man placed the flower branch on his shoulder as he walked forward. “You don’t like listening. White Official is dead, and Gold Official is also dead. Alas, there’s no one left to listen anymore.”

Qiu Lang: “You can tell that person behind us.”

The young man shook his head: “That won’t do. He loves talking about these random things even more than I do.”

Qiu Lang glanced at Shu Sheng and Fang Hui walking behind them.

The young man continued: “About him blocking his life meridian, what do you think? Can you find a way to break through it within three days?”

“Three days isn’t enough. The life meridian only activates when near death; it rarely responds without facing a lethal attack,” Qiu Lang replied, withdrawing his gaze. “The life meridian is also part of the star meridian power, like the other eight meridians, so we don’t need to target the life meridian specifically. We can think of it differently.”

“Zhou Zixi isn’t hiding his life meridian but his star meridian. This way, there are many methods we can target, and you can try them one by one.”

“Haha, hearing you explain it enlightens me! But there are too many methods to counter hidden star meridians. Could it be that you’re also helping him buy time?” The young man tilted his head to look at Qiu Lang after speaking.

Qiu Lang gazed indifferently ahead, paying no attention to his probing.

“How would delaying his death benefit me?”

The young man walked leisurely, “Weren’t you once good friends who shared hardships?”

Qiu Lang: “That was when we were children.”

A white dove flew over and landed on the flower branch in the young man’s hand. The message it brought made the young man smile and say, “Wu Liangli is anxious to leave, but unfortunately, the paths through the Ghost Plains are treacherous now. One misstep could cost your life.”

Qiu Lang’s brow furrowed upon hearing this, and he vanished with Shadow Step.

The young man looked in the direction he had left and sighed: “How can one survive when weaknesses are so easily discovered?”

*

Fang Hui couldn’t forget that backward glance when they left. With countless emotions churning inside him, he finally couldn’t bear it anymore and asked the person beside him: “What exactly do you want to do?”

Shu Sheng said, “Since I’ve already promised not to kill Chang Xi, you should also fulfill what you promised. Don’t ask too much.”

Fang Hui replied coldly: “You mean I should be like that ghost, keep my mouth shut and wait for you to decide life and death?”

Shu Sheng asked: “Are you afraid of dying?”

Fang Hui gave a cold laugh: “Aren’t you?”

Shu Sheng didn’t answer but looked toward the distant city towers. “This world still has many secrets and powers waiting for us to explore. Being able to come this far and learn these invaluable secrets is an honor for us both, even if it costs us our lives.”

Fang Hui: “…”

The young man, who had stopped ahead to look back, burst into laughter. He knew Shu Sheng loved preaching grand principles even more than himself!

*

Bei Dou, Yao Guang Hall.

During these days at Bei Dou, Xiang An’ge had been busy saving people, prioritizing the severely injured Liang Junxia, then the equally wounded Zhou Caicai, and finally Dong Yeyun, whose star meridians had been destroyed and whose tongue had been cut out.

While everyone else at Bei Dou was immersed in grief, he was concentrating on what artifice technique could replace Dong Yeyun’s tongue.

Initially, everyone was busy with their tasks—busy grieving, busy seeking revenge, busy saving people.

Xiang An’ge sat under the eaves with sheets of white paper spread on the table, depicting various artifice techniques. He bent one leg against a corridor pillar, holding a brush in deep thought, occasionally adding a few strokes to the paper.

A knocking sound came from behind, but Xiang An’ge didn’t respond. Soon, he heard Qing Ying say from outside the door: “Do you want something to eat?”

Xiang An’ge: “Not eating.”

Qing Ying made an “oh” sound, then added: “I’ve taken all my medicine today.”

Xiang An’ge: “Mm.”

Qing Ying: “Senior brothers and sisters are roasting sweet potatoes tonight. Should I save one for you?”

Xiang An’ge: “Sure.”

Qing Ying turned to leave but was startled to see Ming Li and Dong Yeyun standing in the snowy night, holding an umbrella and watching her.

“Senior Sister.”

Ming Li nodded slightly at her: “Why are you standing outside to talk?”

Qing Ying scratched her head and walked quietly to Ming Li’s side, whispering: “Isn’t he helping Yu Yun figure something out? I’m afraid opening the door would disrupt his train of thought.”

Has it reached the point where one must whisper even from this distance?

Ming Li looked dubiously at her.

Qing Ying said: “Really! When he was thinking in No Direction Nation, his spirit clones stayed eight hundred li away from him. Even when passing him cards or turning pages, they moved slowly, afraid that the slightest sound would affect him.”

Ming Li: “Didn’t he just answer you? It can’t be that serious.”

Qing Ying touched her hair and said: “He can tear apart noisy spirit clones while they’re still alive, but he can’t do that to me, right?”

Ming Li: “…”

She suddenly wondered what kind of experiences her junior sister had gone through in No Direction Nation.

Ming Li walked under the eaves, closed her umbrella, and knocked on the door. Behind her, Qing Ying looked up at Dong Yeyun, who allowed her to look, his eyes silently asking, “What are you looking at?”

Qing Ying moved closer to him and said, “I gave your share of roasted sweet potatoes to him. Since you can’t speak, I’ll take your silence as agreement.”

Then she ran off immediately.

Dong Yeyun: “…”

I would speak if I could!

*

Hearing the sound, Xiang An’ge turned to look at the two people entering and pushed forward a few sheets of paper on the table.

However, after waiting a while without seeing the two approach the table, he turned his head to find Ming Li and Dong Yeyun standing at the doorway, keeping their distance as they watched him.

Xiang An’ge: “?”

Ming Li: “My junior sister said you hate people coming close and talking when you’re thinking.”

“I never said that. She decided not to come in on her own.” Xiang An’ge’s eye twitched slightly.

Only then did the brother and sister walk over.

Xiang An’ge momentarily found himself caught between laughter and tears.

After Ming Li sat down at the table, she glanced at the few diagrams Xiang An’ge had selected. He explained: “To create an artifice tongue for speech, there are two options—the Thunderous Roar Meridian and the Spiritual Court Meridian. The premise for working with these two star meridians is that the meridians must be intact.”

Dong Yeyun’s current condition showed that his face had mostly recovered. The pustules had burst and fallen off, leaving only some mottled marks that appeared a mix of green and red.

The scar-removing ointment he applied daily was given by Chen Zhou, who had assured Dong Yeyun it was effective, pointing to his own face and saying, “I used this to remove my scars, and now there’s nothing left, see!”

Dong Yeyun believed him and paid three times the original price to buy the ointment from Chen Zhou.

“Since returning, with Shi Fei’s star power nurturing him, his star meridians have gradually shown a response,” Ming Li said, looking at the diagrams. “We can prioritize repairing the Thunderous Roar and Spiritual Court meridians.”

Xiang An’ge supported his chin with one hand, his gaze directed toward the snow-covered courtyard, while his other hand tapped lightly on the table with bent fingers.

Ming Li looked up at him, and Xiang An’ge said: “I’ve been away for quite some time. Without No Direction Nation’s isolation, the divine prophecy comes rather frequently.”

“Do you want to return to No Direction Nation for a while?” Ming Li asked.

Xiang An’ge shook his head and turned to look at her: “I didn’t notice before, but recently it has come so frequently that I’m growing impatient. Rather than endure this, why not take this opportunity to destroy it completely?”

Ming Li’s fingertips slid across the cold paper as she picked it up by the corner to examine it: “What a coincidence. I was thinking the same thing.”

Xiang An’ge asked: “They didn’t get Shi Fei, so they’ll come again. Are you planning to wait for them to find you, or will you go find them?”

“Judging from their actions these past few years, Shi Fei seems to be an indispensable element. They still have time before they obtain Shi Fei,” Ming Li’s gaze passed beyond the black and white lines, seemingly looking far into the distance. “Before I go to Wandering Isle, I need to find a divine weapon first.”

*

The setting sun’s light bathed the entire cliff face, which was covered with countless cave openings, each just large enough for a single long snake. Red-eyed snakes poked their heads out from the cave openings, waiting for the starlight to illuminate the world while also patrolling to see if anyone approached.

The birds and beasts that slept during the day in the mountain forest awakened at nightfall. They moved with composure yet gloom, subtly different from other animals. The emotions revealed in their eyes seemed more advanced than those of ordinary animals.

The beasts headed toward the base of the mountain, arriving at the altar that summoned them, their gazes hostile as they stared at the black shadow that had once again come back to life from a pool of blood.

Zhou Zixi coughed lightly, raising his hand to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth. Because his vision was blurry, even after being revived, he didn’t move but instead carefully listened to the sounds around him.

His mother had once said: Some sounds can only be heard when you close your eyes.