“These… these whatever imps, what do they usually put them in?”

“I think they would have been in wine.” Hearing Xi Ping ask about the insects instead of the soul-driving spice, the green-robed man thought he hadn’t understood, so he patiently explained, “The soul-driving spice has a very faint odor, and the insect eggs are very small. They can be taken for sediment in unfiltered wine—but you must only have consumed the soul-driving spice, not the eggs, or else if the two had combined, they would have acted up by now.”

The breath caught in Xi Ping’s chest eased: that was all right. Because of the “heart disease” that impeded him not at all when it came to eating and running, the Marquis never touched a drop of wine when he was out of the house.

“How would I know?” At last he turned his attention to the soul-driving spice and laughed bitterly. “At Overflowing Splendor, I drink wine like I breathe air. Ask what breath I missed…”

Just then, from the dense fog covering the woods came a wailing like a bugle call, interrupting Xi Ping.

Fwssh. Rain came pelting down, dispersing the thick fog, like a hand wiping steam off glass.

Before Xi Ping could get accustomed to the suddenly clear view, his eyes met with an attack—he saw four… “people” carrying a coffin; they themselves must have crawled out of some grave.

One of the people carrying the coffin was the man who had been carrying the lantern. In this crowd, he was actually rather put together. Among the other three, one had no facial features, only a single crack in a ghastly white face that may have been an eye or a mouth; one was missing part of his shoulder, his head perched precariously on a triangular chest, like a flag atop a pole; there was another one missing a big chunk of his skull, the dent covered with a rag, the pulsing of the blood vessels in his brain making the thin cloth jump.

The four people carrying the coffin were facing directly towards Xi Ping, less than a hundred paces away!

Xi Ping nearly missed a breath at the unexpected head-on sight of these monsters. He felt as if it had taken a decade off his life.

“Evil cultivators often go berserk, and they frequently look unusual. No need to be afraid.” The green-robed man sipped from his wine pot. Seeing Xi Ping trip over a tree root as he backed up and nearly plop down, he reached out to hold him up and lifted the wine pot in his direction. “There’s wine. You want some?”

“Yes,” said Xi Ping.

The green-robed man: “…”

He was just being polite, figuring that now that the young man knew he had been dosed with something in his wine, he certainly wouldn’t dare to consume blindly something another person gave him. He hadn’t expected him to actually take it. But the words had been said, so he couldn’t not give him the wine. He handed the wine pot over a little regretfully. “There’s not much left, go easy.”

The young master had reached his present age without learning the words “go easy.” He took the wine pot and gulped a big mouthful, nearly draining it dry.

The wine was very strong. Once it was in his mouth, the alcohol surged down Xi Ping's throat and swept through his organs, then decisively turned around and went to his head. In a few breaths, the burning feeling suddenly disappeared, and rich flavor surged up.

Xi Ping exhaled a warm breath, reinvigorated.

Then he noticed that there was someone following the coffin.

This person was dressed in mourning garb, her face bloodlessly white.

It was Jiangli.

But… she wasn’t like Jiangli.

Xi Ping couldn’t say at first what was different about her. The features were still her features, and even her hairstyle was the same as usual. But somehow, she now looked neither delicate nor sweet. She had been like a flower, sustained by wind and dew, and now all of a sudden she had grown a warm, living human body that could spoil and stink; she exuded a crude “human scent.”

“Someone you know?” the green-robed man asked. “Your lovely confidante?”

“She is lovely.” Xi Ping’s eyes didn’t leave Jiangli for a moment. He was remembering how, in order to protect her, he hadn’t even trusted his own page, but had gone to seek her himself, from the mortal world to the netherworld. He felt a little ridiculous. Clenching his back molars, he laughed. “I’m no confidant of hers—I don’t deserve it.”

There was a thump as the monsters put the big coffin on the ground. Jiangli and the coffin bearers walked around the coffin in some particular tempo, each step falling precisely on the ground. The ground seemed to become a big drum. With each footfall, a dull thump came from the earth, each thump heavier than the last.

The pounding hurt Xi Ping’s oversensitive ears. He was about to cover them with his hands when, suddenly, he caught a faint sound… coming from the coffin.

He broke out in goosebumps: there was someone in the coffin beating time!

Next, an exceptionally clear female voice joined the drumming. The singer whose voice had stunned the Lingyang River was singing, so beautifully it made you tremble.

Once, a person had listened to Jiangli’s songs to the point of addiction, then had thrown down his cup in a fright and left, saying, “This singing is inauspicious, there’s bewitchment in the voice, and the singer has the look of a devil.” Xi Ping had taken this for a joke, because most of Jiangli’s songs were written by him. His family’s works could be used as lucky charms; how could they be “inauspicious”?

The person who said these words must have been another idiot dazed by loveliness.

Now, he knew at last who the real idiot was.

As she sang, a greenish light appeared above the coffin, floating in midair like a ghost light. The people surrounding the light had nothing human about them; they were like ghosts.

The singing, the footsteps, and the knocking inside the coffin mingled with the quaking of the earth, louder and louder. Xi Ping could hardly keep his footing. He had to drape himself over a tree beside him. He turned to ask the green-robed man, “Exalted, aren’t you going to do something?”

“Exalted?” The green-robed man had been considering how to get his wine pot back without seeming stingy. Hearing this, he raised his eyebrows. “Do you know who I am?”

I’m not stupid, Xi Ping thought—he had heard the man holding the lantern say that there was a trap in the woods specially set for Heaven’s Design Pavilion. This impoverished-seeming old brother had not only not fallen into the trap but was instead watching avidly from the sidelines. Obviously he was more powerful that these repulsive monsters.

Besides, in his capacity as human-shaped incense burner, rather than obediently staying put on the incense altar, he had followed the “leads” that these people had left for Heaven’s Design Pavilion and run off here. But they had no idea. Did that make sense? There had to be some master making trouble in the background.

Though this master couldn’t keep accounts, he could casually reference the salary of a high general of cavalry; he had evidently been at court. He might be a high official in Heaven’s Design Pavilion, or even…

The green-robed man shook his head. “This is only a ceremony. There’s no point in interrupting. They’ve already offered themselves up.”

As he spoke, a long groan came from the north, like the roar of some enraged beast of prey. It came on a fierce wind, overpowering even the drumming ringing in Xi Ping’s ears.

Jiangli’s voice broke. Like torn silk, the exquisite voice became a hoarse shout; it hardly even sounded human.

For the first time, Xi Ping knew that sound could become a hammer. He felt the overlapping noises slam against his chest and nearly crack his ribs open on the spot. His vision went dark. When he came to, there was blood flowing from his nose.

But he didn’t take the time to wipe it away. In that instant, inexplicable tremors crawled up his back. He felt that there was someone… no, something behind him, looking at him through the thin “mustard seed”!

The languid stance of the green-robed man in front of him changed. Silently, he stuck up a finger towards Xi Ping. His suddenly sharp gaze went past Xi Ping, looking behind him.

The blood from Xi Ping’s nose flowed down to his mouth. He didn’t dare to wipe it away at first. After a while, he heard extremely faint footsteps shuffle past and recede. He whipped his head around but saw nothing at all, only a line of shallow but distinct footprints in the loose earth, unhurriedly walking towards Jiangli and the others.

The stride was neither long nor short, perfectly steady, but… there was no one making the footprints!

Xi Ping had never believed in ghosts or gods. Now that he was seeing a ghost with his own eyes, the top of his head nearly burst off.

When he looked again, the people next to the coffin were all kneeling. The lid of the coffin that the knocking had been coming from flew up!

An evil wind rose inside the coffin and spread in all directions. The lush foliage of the woods was swept by the wind, and the green leaves instantly dried and yellowed. They trembled and fell to the ground.

Jiangli, not batting an eye, efficiently brought down a knife and cut open her wrist.

Xi Ping couldn't imagine the ruthlessness of that stroke; it cut nearly halfway through her wrist. The blood sprayed all over the coffin. The footsteps had reached the coffin now.

The people prostrate on the ground called out, “Welcome, Tai Sui—”

Just then, Xi Ping heard a crisp sound, like a blade shattering a glass cup.

Next, four or five blue-robed figures descended from the sky. The one in the lead held a sword. He slashed at the coffin. Heaven’s Design Pavilion had come at last!

Xi Ping was dazzled. He didn’t even see who had come from Heaven’s Design Pavilion, and he didn’t know whether the footsteps or the sword reached the coffin first. He only knew that the walkers in the mortal world had engaged the monsters in a chaotic fight.

The clash of metal on metal was fierce enough to send up sparks. Then there was a clatter, and the coffin in the midst of the fighting burst apart. Among the wreckage, a man stood up!

The dear friend who had been trying to lift the coffin lid earlier revealed his true face.

He was tall and broad, dressed in dark brown burial robes with a Five Blessings design,¹ auspiciously planted in the center of the coffin. The haunts gathered back to back to defend him, facing the walkers in the mortal world.

But Xi Ping didn’t have attention to spare even for the risen corpse. His attention was all taken up by Jiangli—in the moment he had taken his eyes off her, her face, like a lotus standing above the water, had turned dry and wrinkled as an old woman’s. Her spine had folded up. Most of her black hair had turned white. If not for the fact that the cast of her features remained in the bones of her face, he would hardly have dared to identify her!

“Move over!” A clear whistle came from the woods nearby as an acquaintance brushed over the treetops on a sword. Assistant Commander Pang had come in person!

Pang Jian mimed drawing a bow in empty air. The rain swirled and gathered in his hands, congealing into a “water arrow.” He shot it straight at the man in the coffin.

Jiangli stepped forward without giving it a thought and bodily blocked the water arrow. She opened her mouth and let out a sharp howl.

The green-robed man had come up beside Xi Ping. He reached up and slapped Xi Ping on the ear.

At this gentle slap, there was a buzz, and the sound of water burbling as it “flowed” from Xi Ping’s right ear all the way to his left ear, rendering him temporarily deaf.

He couldn’t hear Jiangli’s voice, but he could feel the foliage around him shaking. The wheels of the carriage stopped at the roadside splintered out of nowhere. The horse fell to its knees, twitched a few times, and stopped moving!

The scream shook the sword out from under Pang Jian’s feet. He vaulted and landed on the ground like a swallow.

The noise of water only burbled in Xi Ping’s ears for a moment, then soon exited by his left ear. His hearing was restored, but his head was a mess—what had he seen?

The delicate flower Jiangli had just sent the unfathomable commander of Heaven’s Design Pavilion staggering!

Pang Jian shouted, “Get in formation!”

Several swords interlaced in answer. The sword formation of the blue-robed men fell like thunder. Numerous beams of sword light wove a net that came directly towards the man in the coffin in his burial robes.

And just then, the dead man opened his eyes.

His eyes were golden, his gaze arresting. He raised a hand, and a foul wind rose out of nowhere. The blue-robers didn’t even have time to draw breath before they were sent flying, swords and all, several lengths away.

Now Pang Jian’s expression turned grave.

Those unsettling golden irises were cast down. The golden-eyed man patted the dust off his burial robes. Expression almost gentle, his gaze swept over the evil cultivators surrounding him. The rigid corners of his mouth turned upwards in a faint smile.

He put one in mind of an enigmatic divine image.

The skinless man who had carried the lantern began to tremble. He mumbled, “Tai Sui… It’s Tai Sui…”

The haunts reacted half a beat late. One after another, they prostrated themselves at his feet, crying and laughing as if deranged.

“Tai Sui!”

“Behold Tai Sui!”

“Tai Sui! Tai Sui has truly come!”

The man they were calling “Tai Sui” looked at Jiangli and extended a hand as pale as a dead man’s towards her.

Jiangli was kneeling. She shuffled up to him on her knees.

“Sister of the Chen family.” His voice was unexpectedly soft, and it had a faint Ning’an accent. “Thank you. I know your story.”

Xi Ping was astonished.

Sister of the Chen family… Jiangli’s surname was Chen?

He inadvertently reached into his clothes to touch the birthday jade.

The jade said “Daughter of the Ning’an Chen family.” Could it be…

Just then, Tai Sui staggered slightly.

Jiangli was startled. She called out, “Tai Sui?”

Tai Sui pressed a hand to the center of his brow and sighed. He looked up at Pang Jian. “Commander Pang, Jinping’s dog. Your reputation is deserved. You truly have a heart like a stone. Dozens of lives lying before you won’t move you. It seems that our brothers and sisters hiding out by the Azure Dragon Towers have given their lives for the cause.”

Pang Jian gave a cold laugh. “Don’t mention it.”

At this, the crowd of mobsters beside the coffin looked alarmed. Someone involuntarily cried out, “It can’t be! We haven’t received news of any mishap!”

Jiangli raised her head quickly. “Tai Sui, if they were unable to get the essence of the Dragon Vein, then you…”

Tai Sui looked at her with a gaze that was almost compassionate. “My body is only barely sustained by your ‘offerings’ now.”

“I’ve heard of someone who seized a body and presumed to use the veins of the earth to knit together body and soul, who was later struck down by heavenly lightning. This is my first time seeing someone set his mind on the Dragon Vein. Your aspirations are truly lofty, senior.” Pang Jian sighed in admiration and saluted. “There may be no need for heavenly lightning tonight. I think that walking corpse of yours can only be sustained for a short while by the lives of these monsters. Why go to the trouble? It’s so ugly. Why not take it off and…”

Before he could finish, an abrupt flash of lightning cast Tai Sui’s shadow behind him.

His shadow was a dragon!

The dragon shadow moved at Tai Sui’s feet. Wherever it passed, birds and insects with no time to get out of the way were sucked dry and blown to sand. The shadow dragon threw back its head in a silent roar and launched itself towards the walkers in the mortal world!

Fortunately, while Pang Jian had been chatting, his nerves had been tensed. The moment the lightning flashed, he immediately tossed out a talisman.

But before it could reach the dragon shadow, the talisman disintegrated.

Pang Jian shook his sleeve, and seven or eight talismans left his hand at once, closely shielding his colleagues behind him.

“Indeed, this body of mine can only be sustained for a brief moment.” Tai Sui calmly rolled up the long sleeves his burial robes. “But for you little ‘open-eyed’ ones, won't that moment be enough?”

This time, Pang Jian couldn’t say a single word. He could hardly keep the feigned frivolity on his face.

His origins were humble. He had climbed step by step himself. While walkers in the mortal world could only be open-eyed, he had encountered more than one established foundation evil cultivator in his life. With his many years of experience and extensive travels, even if he couldn’t score a victory from a position of weakness, he could still hold out until reinforcements came.

He had never before been brought, as at this moment, to the point of having no strength to fight back after a single exchange, as if he had become a powerless infant in front of a tall and robust grown man.

And this was only a walking corpse… What boundary had this demon attained?

Tai Sui evidently didn’t take the group from Heaven’s Design Pavilion seriously. His golden eyes turned in Xi Ping’s direction. “And then there's this friend with his vast magic powers. Have you seen enough?”