Agony! Bone-chilling cold!
Gu Xuan violently struggled awake from a semi-conscious state, muddy rainwater mixed with sand plastering his face. The salty, metallic tang of rust rushed into his mind—that smell was exactly like the scent of blood and scorched earth that permeated the air five years ago when Wangnan City fell.
He was curled up behind a half-collapsed low wall. The torrential rain was washing the ruins on the edge of the wilderness into a complete mess. Raindrops hammered the broken rubble, sounding like dense drumming; distant withered trees swayed in the gale, their branches rubbing together with a mournful sound like ghostly whispers. A tearing pain shot through his left shoulder—a claw wound deep enough to expose bone. The flesh around the wound was already blackened, and the continuously seeping black blood was diluted by the rain, pooling beneath him into a gruesome stain. The sticky sensation seeped through his clothes into his skin with every breath.
A raging fever was scorching his sanity, blurring his consciousness until everything before him began to twist and overlap. In his vision, the rain stretched into silver threads, heaven and earth inverted, as if the entire world was collapsing.
Fire, towering flames!
Five years ago, the border fortress "Wangnan City" was breached. The flames of that city-burning war seemed to be burning right before his eyes now. He saw his mother pierced through the chest from behind by a crude stone spear. Her gentle eyes instantly dimmed, the last look she gave him filled with unspoken instructions. A wave of heat washed over him, the stench of scorching filled his nostrils, and the roar of collapsing wooden beams mixed with the wails of the crowd echoed in his ears.
Snow, the heavy snow three years ago that buried everything.
The cold relentlessly eroded his limbs, and his teeth chattered uncontrollably. This cold... was exactly the same as three years ago when he was hiding in the underground cellar listening to Lao Shao Chang cough. The memory shifted: Lao Shao Chang’s gaunt body blocked the entrance to the underground cellar, coughing violently, every sound accompanied by specks of bright blood that splattered onto the frosted ground like wilting red plum blossoms. Using the last of his strength, he pushed the young Gu Xuan into the narrow, dark underground cellar, while he himself leaned on that Juan Le Di Shen De Shao Dao, standing guard at the opening like a statue in the snowstorm.
“Child, remember, do not go south... there is no city there, only man-eating ghosts!”
This was the last thing Lao Shao Chang said to him.
Then, beneath the accumulated snow atop the underground cellar, a shadow deeper than the night suddenly stretched out, silently wrapping around Lao Shao Chang’s body and dragging him, along with a muffled grunt, into the Shen Yuan. The cold wind howled, and the sting of snow pellets whipping his face had not yet faded.
“Ah—Help!!”
A sharp, piercing child’s cry tore through the rain curtain, stabbing into Gu Xuan’s chaotic mind like a spike, violently yanking him out of the painful memories. He shuddered and looked up abruptly. The sound came from the abandoned village not far away. That was the temporary resting place for refugees like them, a place without even a name.
Gu Xuan gritted his teeth, enduring the excruciating pain as if his shoulder blades were shattering. He supported his body with his only functional right arm and crawled toward the source of the sound. Every time his palm pressed into the mud and water, he could feel the slick, decaying leaves and the sharp edges of broken stones beneath. He crawled past the ruins of collapsed earthen houses; a half-charred doorframe remained near his feet—that was where they had gathered around the fire for warmth last night. A dozen steps further was the slightly elevated threshing ground in the center of the village.
The rain blurred his vision; he could only move inch by inch, relying purely on instinct. A pale beam of moonlight happened to tear through the heavy dark clouds, briefly illuminating the center of the village.
A small, thin figure—it was Little Bean! The child who timidly shared half a Ban Kuai Fa Mi Gan Bing with him during the day. At this moment, Little Bean was lying terrified on the ground, his skinny ankle tightly gripped by a translucent, pale arm that had burrowed out of the dirt! The arm was bloodless, as if molded from solidified mist, yet it possessed the stiffness of a corpse. Its icy fingertips were locked into the flesh. The surrounding dirt undulated as if alive, slowly writhing and emitting faint gurgling sounds, as if the entire earth had opened an invisible mouth, ready to swallow this living soul.
Little Bean’s small hand still tightly clutched the remaining half of the biscuit, which was his ration for the night. His cry abruptly stopped the moment he was dragged, as if his throat had been seized by an invisible hand. He was pulled underground little by little, slowly and firmly, by an irresistible force. On the muddy ground, only deep finger marks left by desperate struggles remained, the sound of breaking nails clearly audible, before they were quickly filled in by the surging mud and rainwater.
Gu Xuan crawled in the shadow of the broken wall, watching everything happen. Icy rain mixed with cold sweat seeping from his forehead slid down his thin cheeks, dripping into his mouth—bitter, with a hint of blood. He recognized this thing! The old soldiers privately called it "Di Yan," a strange entity formed by the fusion of the resentful souls of soldiers who died on the battlefield and the noxious, evil energies lingering there. They had no physical form, lurking beneath the earth, and they especially loved to devour the souls of the living, particularly the pure souls of children.
Lao Shao Chang had warned them, the wandering children, more than once: “On this cursed land, the dead should not move again. If they move, they are not human; they are ‘Chang,’ here to drag the living down to keep them company!”
Gu Xuan’s entire body trembled violently. But this time, it wasn't from fear, but from a volcano-like rage originating deep within his soul! Again! Again, he could only watch! Watch the people beside him vanish before his eyes! Five years ago, it was his parents; three years ago, it was Lao Shao Chang; now, it was Little Bean, who gave him half a biscuit! This feeling of powerlessness was like a poisoned iron claw tightly gripping his heart, almost suffocating him.
Why! Why could he only watch all this happen like a useless piece of trash!
“Hoo... hoo...”
A beast-like growl rumbled from Gu Xuan’s throat, his eyes bloodshot with fury. He reached toward his waist, where his only weapon was tied—a Sui Tao Pian, a shard broken from a cracked Terracotta Plate, which he had meticulously sharpened to a point. This was his tool for survival, used to cut animal hides or scrape edible portions from rotten flesh. But now, he only wanted to use this fragile shard to tear open the earth that had swallowed a life!
The fire of vengeance overwhelmed his physical weakness, and he struggled with all his might to stand up. He pushed off the ground with his right hand, but accidentally pressed down on a piece of rotten wood covered in moss—beneath it was a long-abandoned water storage Ku Jing!
“Crack!”
The rotten wooden plank, soaked through by the rain, shattered under his feet.
“Plop!”
The ground gave way beneath him, and Gu Xuan instantly lost his balance. His vision spun wildly as he plunged headfirst into the endless darkness. The severe impact on the back of his head caused his already chaotic consciousness, dulled by the high fever, to completely sink into the abyss.
The physical pain vanished, replaced by a sense of emptiness as if his Soul was about to dissipate. He felt himself sinking continuously, descending toward a cold, dead Shen Yuan.
Just as his Soul Essence was about to completely disintegrate into nothingness, an Aberration suddenly occurred!
Boom—!
Deep within his Spirit Sea, the space that was originally chaotic and empty suddenly exploded with an incomparably magnificent phantom image! It was an ancient, dilapidated palace. The blue bricks were mottled, bearing witness to the erosion of eons; the beams and pillars were broken, as if destroyed by divine or demonic might; the main doors were wide open, and three dim ancient seal script characters on the plaque flickered in the void—Demon Suppression Hall!
The moment this great hall appeared, an ancient, desolate, overwhelmingly domineering cold will surged out from the depths of the hall doors, like invisible chains of order, instantly wrapping around his dissipating Soul Essence, firmly Seal-ing and imprisoning him within this Spirit Sea!
Simultaneously, above the Ku Jing. The writhing patch of earth that had just swallowed Little Bean suddenly split open. A hunched, decaying Rotten Bone Specter skeleton crawled out of the ground with a rattling sound. It was not satisfied with just one child’s soul; the undying aura emanating from the bottom of the well—an aura made especially "delicious" by anger—attracted it like a torch in the dark night. Its hollow eye sockets locked firmly onto the unconscious Gu Xuan at the bottom of the well.
The Rotten Bone Specter emitted a grating sound of rubbing bones and was about to extend its pale arm into the well to drag this "feast" out as well.
Suddenly—another Aberration occurred!
The majestic phantom image of the Demon Suppression Hall in Gu Xuan’s Spirit Sea actually trembled slightly at this moment!
An invisible yet overwhelmingly domineering suction force erupted violently, centered on the Ku Jing!
That dying whisper echoed deep in his consciousness: “If you dream of a broken temple... with ancient characters carved on blue bricks... that is when the ‘Gate’ opens.”
The Rotten Bone Specter, which had just climbed out of the ground, was instantly sucked into the void by this irresistible force before it even had a chance to react, disappearing completely! Only the lower half of its skeleton, from the lumbar vertebrae down, remained on the ground before dissolving into a puff of black ash, scattered by the rain.
The well opening returned to a deathly silence, with only the sound of cold water dripping down the well walls.
And within Gu Xuan’s Spirit Sea, inside that Demon Suppression Hall. The upper half of the Rotten Bone Specter, forcibly sucked in, was tightly bound by countless Blood-Colored Runes emerging from the void, unable to move. It struggled frantically but could not shake the Runes in the slightest.
Immediately following this, a cold, emotionless will sounded directly in the depths of Gu Xuan’s Soul:
“Can Refine: Rotten Bone Specter （ Incomplete ）. Activate?”
Although Gu Xuan’s body was unconscious, his Soul Essence, under the protection of the Demon Suppression Hall, was perfectly clear. He could clearly perceive the terror and temptation of this power, and he could also sense that the bound Specter was the culprit that devoured Little Bean! The instinct for survival, the craving for power, and the Resolve for revenge reached their peak at this moment.
“Yes!”
This word was not spoken, but squeezed out from his shattered dignity; it was his final roar against fate.
The Blood-Colored Runes tightened abruptly. The Rotten Bone Specter let out a silent shriek, its body disintegrating inch by inch, transforming into wisps of black mist-like Soul Energy. Immediately, a cold, sharp torrent of energy poured straight down through the Soul Essence, like thousands of silver needles piercing every inch of his meridians. His Soul shrank and trembled in intense pain, almost falling back into darkness. But he fiercely held onto that sliver of clarity—for his mother’s unfinished gaze, for Lao Shao Chang’s receding figure in the snowstorm, and for the half-moldy biscuit in Little Bean’s hand...
Gradually, the cold current began to become docile, flowing along the extraordinary meridians. Wherever it passed, the black blood on his left shoulder evaporated and dissipated, and the torn flesh actually began to slowly writhe and close. The fever receded, and his heartbeat returned to strength.
After an unknown amount of time, the pain gradually faded. An unprecedented clarity enveloped the Spirit Sea.
Deep within the Ku Jing, there was absolute silence.
Suddenly—
A pair of eyes slowly opened.
In this pitch-black darkness, two faint points of eerie green light flickered in the depths of his pupils.
They were unlike anything human, more like the cold glint in the eyes of a lone wolf on the Huang Yuan staring at its prey.
Hunger, clarity, and... murderous intent.