Chapter 93:
the hearts of hundreds of people possessing the same elemental essence were dug out and collected together. The resultant power, bolstered by the resentment of the dead—while not so strong as that of a true spiritual essence—would still be substantial for a short amount of time. But why Butterfly Town? Why Luo Xianxian…
Chu Wanning stepped into the Chen Manor, its courtyards and halls in disarray and its contents and furnishings strewn across the floor. There he found Landlord and Madam Chen swinging from the ceiling beams, both relieved of their hearts as well. However, unlike the townspeople outside, they had not reanimated, for obvious reasons—both bodies had been shredded to ribbons from the waist down by some savage force, and the mutilated mess no longer bore even a passing resemblance to legs.
Chu Wanning made a circuit through the main hall but did not find Luo Xianxian. He proceeded farther in. Within the Chen family’s ancestral shrine room, he spied a bowl of ground meat set before each and every memorial tablet, as if in offering. A closer inspection revealed half an eyeball mixed into the meat, and a segment of a finger…
Feeling bile rise in his throat, Chu Wanning made to leave when a burst of crisp laughter skittered down from above. His eyes snapped up.
The white paper lanterns swayed as the candles within flared to life one by one.
Luo Xianxian sat on a ceiling beam, dressed in vivid red wedding robes and dangling a pair of bare feet as delicate as jade. She rocked gently back and forth, cocking her head as she contemplated Chu Wanning. She giggled. “Uh-oh. You found me.”
She looked no different from before. But behind that gleeful expression, her soul was nothing like the bashful girl Chu Wanning had met back then. Her eyes were yet large and round, but they now flickered a demonic crimson—arrogant and unbridled, blazing like a flame.
Luo Xianxian had become a demon.
Tianwen could interrogate a ghost but once, and Chu Wanning had already done so when he’d come to Butterfly Town to exorcise evil the first time; it wouldn’t work on her again. All he could do now was suppress the demonic nature within her soul, call back her original consciousness, and attempt to speak to her then.
“Luo Xianxian, why are you here?” As Chu Wanning spoke, the hand hidden in his sleeve was already preparing to unleash a spell.
“Pfft. Because I feel like it,” the petite girl spat. “Not that it’s any business of yours.”
Chu Wanning shook his head, his brows knitted so tight it looked like a scar had been carved between them. “There in the offering bowls…
is that Chen Bohuan’s younger brother?”
“Oh, him.” Luo Xianxian spoke as if she couldn’t care less. “Only the row on the left. The row on the right is that little Yao bitch.”
Chu Wanning stared at her in shock.
“So many men in the world and she had to steal my husband, just
’cause she’s the governor’s daughter. Getting chopped into mincemeat is no more than she deserves!”
Luo Xianxian was too far gone. Her present temperament bore no resemblance to her manner in life, nor could she recognize the man before her as the “Yanluo-gege” who had once fought to exonerate her.
Upon hearing that Madam Chen-Yao had met the same fate,
Chu Wanning’s heart sank. “Then…” In a low voice, he pressed on, “the young daughter of the Chens…”
“She was kind to me; I wouldn’t treat her poorly.” Luo Xianxian smiled, her lips a vibrant red, as if painted with blood. She rubbed her
belly and said gaily, “That’s why she’s in here. I ate her. Now little sis will always be with me, and no one will bully her.”
“You’ve truly gone mad.” A blinding light burst to life in his palm as he spoke, the flash of golden brilliance illuminating the dark corners of the room in an instant. Luo Xianxian yelped in surprise as Chu Wanning leapt up and flung a curse unerringly onto her forehead. Demonic
screeching filled the room.
Chu Wanning wasted no time. In seconds, he had summoned ten golden chains to bind her. He pressed the tips of white and slender fingers to the center of her brow, his eyes flickering with fire and lightning,
expression dark as thunderous clouds. His thin, pale lips parted slightly as he wordlessly chanted an incantation.
Luo Xianxian’s eyes bulged, and saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth. Her once-pretty face twisted into terrifying shapes under the power of the chanting. “Shut up! Let me go! Blood for blood! I’ve done nothing wrong!” Chu Wanning paid her no heed, eyes cool and downcast as the light at his fingertips shone brighter and brighter. She began to
shriek hysterically. “Let me go! Let me go! My head hurts! It hurts! I can’t take it anymore!”
She screamed and wailed—then suddenly stopped. A sinister
crimson lit her eyes, and the corners of her lips quirked eerily upward. She snickered softly. “Is that what you were hoping to hear?”
Startled, Chu Wanning yanked his hand away and leapt backward, his phoenix eyes widening. There was a flurry of white; he dodged Luo Xianxian’s Soul-Shattering Strike just in time, the silk of his robes settling gently around him as he landed some distance away on the veranda.
Luo Xianxian straightened slowly, her faked agony of seconds ago nowhere to be seen. The Purification Spell hadn’t affected her in the least;
if anything, she seemed even stronger than before. “Did you really think a measly Purification Spell could do me in?” Luo Xianxian sneered. “I’ve devoured the life force of more than a thousand people in this town. I’m on the cusp of cultivating a body of flesh. And when I have it, I’ll take my husband back from the underworld, and we’ll leave this place, never to be parted again. How could I possibly let you ruin it for me when I’m so close?!”
The Luo Xianxian of before was gone; all she knew now was her desire to be forever with Chen Bohuan. An idea occurred to Chu Wanning.
In a low voice, he asked “Who told you that you could cultivate a body this way?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Whoever it was, he lied,” Chu Wanning replied coldly. “Your original body is no more; the only way to acquire another is through the cycle of reincarnation. Achieving rebirth by consuming the life force of a thousand people—there is no such thing. He tricked you into slaughtering the townsfolk so that he could gather their hearts for his own ends.”
Luo Xianxian’s eyes were wide with shock. “Impossible! He wouldn’t lie to me!”
“Who is ‘he’?”
“He…he’s…” She mumbled over and over. She clutched her head and shrieked, “I don’t know! I don’t know! I want a body! I want to live!
I don’t want to die! He didn’t lie to me…he didn’t lie to me… You’re the one who’s lying… That’s right, you’re the one lying!” With a swirl of red silk, the ghost rushed toward Chu Wanning, claws extended.
Just then, an ominous boom thundered from the skies above.
Chu Wanning dodged Luo Xianxian’s attack and looked up to discover a long, narrow crack in the defensive barrier, which could no longer stand
before the overwhelming resentful energy of the town. The life energy of those outside seeped in through the gap, and all throughout the town came the roars of the undead.
The barrier was about to break. He was out of time. If he didn’t recover Luo Xianxian’s consciousness soon, he would have no choice but to kill her.
And with her, their last lead…
Outside the barrier, Li Wuxin stared up at the horrifying crack in midair. “Are we still not mending the barrier?!” he yelled at
Xue Zhengyong. “We gotta start repairing it! If it breaks and a thousand walking dead rush out at once, there’s no way we can hold them all back!”
“Just a little while longer!” Xue Zhengyong was similarly grim, and large droplets of sweat beaded on his forehead. “Don’t mend it just yet.
Yuheng is still inside. Wait just a little while longer.”
Li Wuxin cursed under his breath. His heart beat wildly at the sight of that barrier, cracked like an egg. He snarled, “If the barrier fails, how much blood do you think will be spilled?! How will you answer to the entire cultivation world then?” He whipped around to bellow at his disciples, “Have the calls for aid been sent? When will the other sects arrive?!”
The disciple handling the messages was drenched in nervous sweat.
“The other eight great sects all said this is a serious matter that must be reported to their respective sect leaders first and foremost. The sect leaders and elders will have to discuss it before any aid can be sent.”
Li Wuxin’s face darkened further. “What about Rufeng Sect?
Nangong-xianzhang has always been mettlesome. Surely he of all people isn’t so spineless.”
“Um…” As the disciple searched for words to respond, the
communication talisman began to glow once more. He skimmed it quickly and announced, overjoyed: “Rufeng Sect is coming! They just sent word—
they’re sending people as we speak!”
Sure enough, within ten minutes, a wall of blue clouds appeared on the horizon. As they drew closer, those watching saw that these were not clouds at all, but a drove of nearly a thousand cultivators, each clad in a blue mantle emblazoned with Rufeng Sect’s heron and soaring through the sky on swords aligned in strict formation.
At their head were Nangong Si and Ye Wangxi. Nangong Si rode astride his faewolf Naobaijin, a jade bow on his shoulder and a full quiver across his back. He had an imposing air about him, the arrogance and
intemperance of youth writ clear on his face. Ye Wangxi was dressed all in black as before. With a cloak embroidered with Rufeng’s heron thrown over top, he looked seven parts handsome, three parts beautiful.
“What is this?!” Nangong Si saw the sorry state of the barrier and promptly blew his top. His furious gaze scanned the crowd, skipping right over every person from the lower cultivation realm’s Sisheng Peak to land on the only individual remotely fit to be addressed by him: the leader of Bitan Manor. “Li Wuxin! Do you not see that crack in the barrier? What are you doing just standing around down here? Don’t you know to mend it?!”
Li Wuxin was Nangong Si’s senior by a long shot, but Nangong Si was the sole heir to the foremost sect in the cultivation world. Li Wuxin could only grin and bear it, even as his entire face flushed red at the admonishment. “Young Master Nangong, I must inform you that the barrier remains in disrepair only at Xue-zhangmen’s insistence.”
And with that, the hot potato was tossed to Xue Zhengyong.
“Sisheng Peak?” Nangong Si glanced at Xue Zhengyong and let out a hmph, perhaps of contempt. He waved a hand and turned to his personal attendant. “Go patch up the shitty pot. All this yammering had me thinking it was something serious.”
Ye Wangxi tried to stop him. “Young master—”
But Nangong Si wouldn’t spare him so much as a glance. Even stranger, Song Qiutong had come as well. Her face was obscured behind a veil of white silk and her eyes were downcast, as demure and obedient as ever—but today she stood beside Nangong Si rather than Ye Wangxi.
Rufeng Sect was nothing if not expeditious, and they obeyed none but their own leaders. This was especially true of the personal attendants of Nangong Si; the group of them stepped up in sync, completely ignoring any attempt at explanation, and immediately set about laying down the seals and arrays to mend the barrier.
“Wait!” Xue Zhengyong interrupted four or five people’s attempts in succession, yet when he turned around, another had already formed the mending seal and sent it flying in a streak of blue light toward the crack in the barrier. The blood drained from Xue Zhengyong’s face. “Yuheng!”
There was a sudden bang, and sparks flew. In the breath before the seal reached the crack in the barrier, it was cleaved in two by a flash of crimson like a bolt of bloody lightning.
All heads snapped up to see a young man standing on his sword in midair before the barrier, a length of willow vine in his hand. His features were bright and friendly, as if naturally bathed in warmth—but at this moment, his eyes were sharp and unyielding, his gaze flaring like the
leaves of the vine in his hand, coursing with a light the scarlet of blood and erupting with sparks.
High above them, Mo Ran’s brows were drawn low in a frown.
“Didn’t I fucking say that no one is to touch this barrier?” he asked darkly.
“Tell me, are you deaf or stupid?!”
He may have loathed Chu Wanning, but that was between the two of them. Be it in his past life or this one, on pain of death, he would never permit anyone but himself to touch so much as a hair on Chu Wanning’s head. He’d said it before—only he was allowed to kill the one he hated;
the only one allowed to ruin him, to torment him.
In his fit of rage, the savagery of his past life reared its head, bleeding through into his demeanor in a stark departure from his usual attitude of a playful and easy-going young master. Xue Zhengyong, Xue Meng, and even Shi Mei were taken aback, to say nothing of the disciples of Rufeng Sect.