Shen Shu’s voice was neither too loud nor too soft, just enough to suppress the noisy chatter throughout the room, reducing everyone to silence.
No one could have imagined that the person who ultimately pushed Zuo Xiang forward would be this gentle and kind-hearted young master.
Including Pei Zizhuo.
Seeing that no one uttered a sound, Shen Shu handed the bridal gown to Zuo Xiang himself, carefully instructing, “This garment is slender and small, not quite a proper fit for you. Just drape the outer robe over yourself.”
Such soft and tender words, yet they were meant to send someone off on their final journey. Everyone in the room felt a chill run down their spines, breaking out in cold sweat.
Zuo Xiang stood dazed for a long moment before snapping back to his senses. He instantly broke down in bitter tears, waves of profound grief and remorse washing over him as he slammed his head against the floor repeatedly in front of Shen Shu.
Having never received such a heavy kowtow, Shen Shu hurried to pull him up, dragging him aside away from the crowd, and whispered, “This move is not intended to harm you. Only the person wearing the bridal gown can survive.”
Zuo Xiang sobbed uncontrollably, his face plastered with incomprehension.
Yet Shen Shu could not explain any further to him, so he shoved the bridal gown into his arms and said, “I am not deceiving you. Put it on quickly.”
Zuo Xiang still stubbornly refused, dodging it as though it were a venomous snake or scorpion. Seeing that gentle persuasion was useless, Shen Shu lowered his face and raised the bridal gown: “Those eight young maidens had no grudges against you, yet because of you, they were imprisoned in dark, sunless underground tunnels with their fates unknown. If you still possess human conscience, put it on and head out immediately, and do not delay our rescue efforts.”
At this point, Zuo Xiang had no way out. Whether he believed Shen Shu’s words or not, he could only choose to brace himself and follow through.
Though Zuo Xiang possessed a slender frame, wearing the bridal gown still made him look utterly incongruous. Shen Shu pushed him out, passing through the main hall of the temple: “I am sending him off.”
Near the courtyard gate, the frenzied, demon-like cries of the walking corpses grew increasingly grating, rattling everyone’s nerves and making it feel as though stepping outside meant entering a purgatorial hell. Zuo Xiang’s feet instantly felt as heavy as millstones, and no matter how Shen Shu pulled him, he refused to take another step.
Shen Shu sighed, having no choice but to briefly explain the reasoning behind this: “In your eyes, is wearing the bridal gown a guaranteed death sentence?”
Zuo Xiang nodded silently.
“If you were facing ordinary walking corpses, that would indeed be the case. However, everything you have seen and heard right now is an Illusory Realm deliberately constructed by the Matchmaking Cult Master. Within this realm, the sole gateway of life is the bridal gown upon your body, which the Matchmaking Cult Master regards as a supreme treasure.”
Shen Shu continued, “Actually, anyone can wear this bridal gown. It is simply that you incurred public outrage, and right now happens to be an excellent opportunity to make a self-sacrificing gesture and appease the public wrath. If you truly harbor guilt toward those eight maidens, this is likewise a prime chance to redeem your sins.”
At this juncture, the scales in Zuo Xiang’s heart tipped toward Shen Shu. If what was said proved true, he would count himself lucky; if not, he gritted his teeth and thought, “I committed a wrong, and whether in death or survival, I must step outside.”
Shen Shu instructed, “Once outside, you need not mind the walking corpses. They will naturally escort you to a place of safety. Upon stepping out of Mount Chan, immediately strip off this bridal gown, tie it to a stone, and throw it into the water, and do not stop until you watch it sink to the bottom. Do you hear me?”
Zuo Xiang nodded earnestly, nervously repeating the instructions in his mind over and over again.
Shen Shu brushed away the yellow restraining talisman on the door. The walking corpses outside surged forward instantly, a dozen hands fiercely grabbing hold of Zuo Xiang. His terrified scream spiked abruptly, mingling with an eerie, unperceivable joy.
After a long while, the clamor gradually subsided, and thousands of walking corpses turned as one, engulfing Zuo Xiang as they retreated into the distance.
Shen Shu exhaled in relief, turning around only to see that Pei Zizhuo had followed them out as well. The man stood leaning against the doorway with arms crossed, unhesitatingly measuring him with a naked, blatant gaze.
Shen Shu rubbed his nose, walked up, and praised sincerely, “If you hadn’t dragged Zuo Xiang into the center of public attention, I might not have deduced that the bridal gown itself was the gateway of life. Once your injuries heal, given your keen eye and innate talent, you are bound to ascend to immortality within a few years.”
Pei Zizhuo had no intention of accepting this high praise. He had seen through the inverted nature of yin and yang and the reality that death equaled life within the Illusory Realm from the very beginning. Dragging Zuo Xiang out was originally intended as a probe against Danxiao, but seeing through his intentions so quickly by someone else left him somewhat displeased.
Pei Zizhuo offered counter-praise in return, though his words dripped with irony throughout, “Free Wanderer Danxiao is indeed warm-hearted, and he holds far too pure a view of me. Perhaps I genuinely intended to send this black-hearted wretch Zuo Xiang to his death rather than spare his life.”
Shen Shu blinked, nearly taken in by Pei Zizhuo’s unconcerned veneer. Yet on second thought, it was Pei Zizhuo who first discovered the Illusory Realm, Pei Zizhuo who fought the Ancestral Witch single-handedly, and Pei Zizhuo who cleared out the walking corpses outside.
This man truly possessed a sharp tongue paired with a benevolent heart.
Shen Shu nodded in resignation, deliberately playing along with Pei Zizhuo’s words to complain, “It seems your heart is as cold as your exterior, and your words are utterly unpalatable.”
Pei Zizhuo’s face darkened further.
“No matter, I am articulate and tender-hearted. Perhaps staying by my side will help you learn a thing or two.” Shen Shu tilted his head back with a smile, flashing a row of white teeth.
Pei Zizhuo replied, “Truly, much obliged.”
As the deep night drew on and the sounds of walking corpses outside faded away for a long while, the people inside the temple grew restless. Poking their heads out while gripping the door frames, they tentatively asked, “Two immortals, may we head back now?”
The sole gateway of life had already been sent away, and peace no longer existed within the formation. The current stillness was merely a facade, and the treacherous undercurrents hidden in the dark would strike at any moment.
Neither Shen Shu nor Pei Zizhuo answered, and the gloomy night grew even heavier.
Dense miasma carrying biting chill swallowed the stars and moon at the horizon, while a thick fragrance mixed with a foul, rotting stench was gradually blown by the wind into the ruined temple.
The scent was simultaneously nauseating and heavily cloying, inducing a throbbing headache. Shen Shu turned alert and warned, “Cover your nose and mouth quickly.”
While speaking, he distributed all the pomelo leaves from his cosmos bag. Once denied the bridal gown, the Ancestral Witch was bound to fly into a rage, meaning they could no longer stay here. He immediately commanded, “We are heading down the mountain.”
Miasma filled the sky, and the night was so profoundly dark it felt as though it could swallow people whole. Shen Shu walked at the head of the group, leaving Pei Zizhuo to guard the rear.
With the Ancestral Witch lurking in the shadows and striking unexpectedly at any moment, Shen Shu kept his heart suspended, stepping lightly and steadily while keeping his ears perked for surrounding movements.
Wind, leaves, birds, and beasts seemed silenced. The mountain valley remained desolate and open, and all along the way, only the ragged, pattering footsteps and increasingly heavy breathing from behind could be heard.
“Immortal, Immortal, let us rest for a moment.”
Shen Shu stopped and frowned, noticing the person panting heavily as if dragged through a grueling long-distance march. Having walked less than a quarter of an hour, how could they be so utterly exhausted?
He supported the lagging person, guiding them to rest beneath a tree, and pressed his fingertips against their pulse to check, instantly feeling a surge of shock: how could they be suffering from an extreme depletion of vital blood and energy?
It was the Taotie! The Taotie was hidden within the miasma, inadvertently draining their life force and blood!
“We cannot walk any longer.” Shen Shu called a halt to the group, settling them within the mountain ravine, and proceeded to check them one by one from start to finish. His face turned as pale as ash: without exception, everyone suffered from severe vital depletion.
“The Ancestral Witch intends to exhaust us to death. We must make a swift resolution.” Pei Zizhuo drew his ice halberd from his sleeve, gazing far out into the deep, shadowy forest.
“Understood.” Shen Shu answered verbally, but instead turned and squatted down. He slashed open his palm, and a trail of fresh blood slowly dripped along his snow-white palm. Just as he reached for a small flask to catch it, his hand was abruptly grabbed.
Pei Zizhuo’s face darkened as he raised the bleeding palm and demanded, “Are you the Buddha who carved his flesh to feed the eagle? Even if your blood is useful, can you keep feeding them all the way down the mountain?”
Shen Shu froze, assuming Pei Zizhuo was worried he would lose too much blood and suffer a drop in spiritual power. He consoled him, “This little bit of blood won’t affect my magic much. Rest assured, I certainly won’t drag you down.”
Pei Zizhuo narrowed his eyes, unceremoniously ripping a strip of fabric from his inner garments to bind Shen Shu’s hand tightly, before chanting a Mountain-Sea Palace incantation to knit the flesh back together.
Shen Shu snatched his hand back in a wince of pain. Before he could voice a reprimand, he saw Pei Zizhuo slice open half his own palm and retrieve a small flask to collect his own blood.
“This kind of miasma doesn’t warrant using the blood of a Soul Formation master.” Pei Zizhuo handed the small flask filled with blood to the fatigued survivors with a cold expression.
Standing nearby, Shen Shu felt a sudden, misplaced surge of sheepish embarrassment.
What a peculiar anomaly. He opened his mouth, uncertain whether to scold Pei Zizhuo for acting on his own whim or to thank him for his consideration. After turning those words over in his mind for a long while without smoothing out the strange emotion, he simply shut his mouth, averted his gaze, and wrote off the incident.
Pei Zizhuo shook his hand as the wound on his palm healed instantly. Passing by Shen Shu, he murmured, “Let’s move safely along, living Bodhisattva.”
Shen Shu remained speechless.