Dai Shengfan’s blood seemed to exert a form of mental control over Dai Sui. It stripped the youth of his autonomy, turning him into a cold, lethal weapon.
“Kill him,” Dai Shengfan ordered, pointing a finger at the head on the ground.
“Kill,” Dai Sui muttered. He was enveloped in a thick, dark red aura, and his eyes had transformed into a terrifying crimson.
The boy’s pupils were unfocused, but his movements were not slowed in the least. In the blink of an eye, he lunged at the head. The head tried to roll away to escape, but it was snatched up by a massive force.
Then, without a moment of hesitation, the boy gripped the head with both hands. His fingers exerted sudden pressure, and his muscles bulged with raw strength. The red and white flesh burst like a bomb, spraying a mist of blood several meters away. The boy’s once pure face was now splattered with unidentifiable human tissue.
Sitting on the ground, Yang Jingtai was completely paralyzed by this hellish, bloody sight. The boy stared at the gore in his hands for a few seconds before slowly burying his entire face into his palms. His back and neck pulsed rhythmically.
From Yang Jingtai’s angle, he could only see the boy’s back, but he knew exactly what was happening. He shifted his gaze to Dai Shengfan. The grim, mocking smile in Dai Shengfan’s eyes made him feel as if he had fallen into an ice cellar. He knew this man would never let him leave alive.
Enduring the pain and terror, Yang Jingtai rose noiselessly, hoping to flee quickly. He had not run far when a demonic voice rang out behind him. “Do not let him go.”
Yang Jingtai’s blood turned to ice in that instant. In the next second, he felt a massive force at his neck. The world spun 180 degrees, and the scene that had been behind him was suddenly right in front of his eyes. In the distance, the young S-class Ghost Hunter still stood in place. His gaze, usually as cold as a knife’s edge, now showed a flicker of emotion. The summoned young soul also looked over. His effortless, gentle smile was gone, replaced by a deep frown.
Yang Jingtai’s vision focused. The boy’s demonic face, smeared with blood and flesh, was less than a meter away. His expression was devoid of joy or sorrow, like a living puppet. The pungent smell of blood was so thick it felt etched into his lungs. Yang Jingtai choked out a heavy cough, only to find he could not make a sound. His neck had been twisted 180 degrees like a piece of fried dough, and blood gushed from his nose and mouth.
Thump.
As the boy crouched before the fresh corpse, that irresistible voice spoke again from behind.
“Now is not the time to eat. Business first.” Standing beside the boy, Dai Shengfan pointed a finger at the culprit who had driven him into such a pathetic state, like the Grim Reaper calling a name. “This person, make his death a beautiful disaster.”
The boy stood up obediently and walked toward the target step by step. The tall, black-haired man being pointed at had watched the massacre with indifference from start to finish. He had not intervened, and he did not seem to intend to run now. With a crisp snap of his long fingers, Ziwu was unsheathed, its grayish-blue cold light reflecting his ruthless expression.
Dai Shengfan’s lips curled. He did not believe a mere mortal could defeat a god or demon. It was nothing more than the futile struggle of an ant trying to shake a tree.
Wen Yaozhi’s emotionless gaze paused. A breeze swept past, and a lithe figure blocked his path. Wen Yaozhi raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
“Let me handle this,” Lu Xincheng said, his tone tinged with helplessness. “The kid is not durable. You will break him if you hit him.”
Wen Yaozhi was silent.
“You are not actually going to kill an incapacitated minor, are you?” Lu Xincheng quickly tilted his head to check Wen Yaozhi’s expression. His look of disbelief was as if he were staring at a heinous criminal. Wen Yaozhi met that clear, mirror-like gaze for a few seconds, his palm tightening slightly on the hilt of his sword. Finally, a cold snort escaped his throat. Ziwu was snapped back into its scabbard on his back.
Dai Shengfan watched the spirit and the man. He was too far away to hear their conversation. He sneered, “If you are in such a hurry to die, then I will scatter your soul first.” Having received his orders, Dai Sui did not break his stride, heading straight for Lu Xincheng.
Wen Yaozhi had already turned and walked away. Lu Xincheng watched the boy. From the first time they met at the hospital, he knew this boy was no ordinary person. The boy seemed to have slower intellectual development than other children his age, but after Lu Xincheng talked with him all night, he realized the child’s intelligence was actually normal. He was particularly delicate and sensitive emotionally, like a sheet of unpolluted white paper.
His upbringing had been a life kept in cold storage. Dai Shengfan had never exposed him to the world. Consequently, Dai Sui had never gone to school and had lost the chance to interact with children his age. Judging by Dai Shengfan’s attitude, the child likely had not received any proper education, but that did not stop him from being a good child. Though he could not see the color of the boy’s soul, Lu Xincheng always trusted his own judgment.
Lu Xincheng reached out and intercepted the boy’s wrist as it moved toward his throat. The rings on his fingers flared with light.
After being persuaded to stand down, Wen Yaozhi sat on a large rock nearby to watch. He sat with his arms crossed, his keen eyes capturing the exquisite small ornaments between Lu Xincheng’s fingers, a thoughtful look in his eyes.
The boy possessed the strength of a thousand pounds, and ordinary force could not stop him. Lu Xincheng only managed to cancel out a small portion of the power. The remainder tore through his left shoulder like a crashing wave. A portion of his soul was violently ripped away in an instant. The soul-crushing pain made Lu Xincheng grit his teeth hard.
Wen Yaozhi’s expression remained unchanged, but his relaxed posture was gone. His back was now straight and his palms were pressed against his thighs, a stance ready for combat at any second. But in an instant, the situation on the field took another dramatic turn.
After the initial strike, Dai Sui could have delivered a fatal blow. However, his movements stopped without warning, as if someone had hit a pause button. Then, the cruelty and numbness in his eyes rapidly faded, like waking from a nightmare. Confusion lasted only a second or two before a sense of despair overwhelmed him.
He looked down at his hands. “I, what did I just do?”
The memories in his mind were real, yet they felt incredibly surreal: his father’s cruel but undeniable orders, and the deep-seated craving for blood and flesh in his soul. He had regained his senses, but the lingering sensation of the slaughter seemed to remain in his palms. The boy collapsed onto the ground, trembling, but felt a warm power brush against his spine.
He looked up, the red veins in his eyes still visible and tears filling his gaze. “Am I still human?”
Lu Xincheng did not answer, only patting his back comfortingly. The boy buried his head deep into that warm harbor, like a lost little animal that had finally found its nest. He did not notice that the harbor accepting him was itself on the verge of collapsing.
Lu Xincheng forced his eyes open and saw that the spot where Dai Shengfan had been standing was now empty. Just as he was about to interrogate Wen Yaozhi about how he let him get away, the other man struck first.
“What is wrong with you?”
Lu Xincheng took a deep breath, trying to keep his tone calm. “What do you mean, what is wrong with me? I was going to ask you the same. What, has Mr. Wen started respecting his elders? You could not even keep an eye on one old man?”
After this barrage of accusations, Wen Yaozhi held his breath for a few seconds. “He will not get far.” Wen Yaozhi was not deflected at all. “What exactly is going on with you?”
Lu Xincheng pulled away a few steps coldly. “I am fine.”
Wen Yaozhi frowned at the man before him. His already pale face had turned even whiter. Within his pupils, blood-red and black energy flickered, making him look like an Asura from hell. Though he did not know the specifics of what had happened, his current state looked very similar to how Dai Sui had just appeared. Wen Yaozhi stared thoughtfully at the familiar face. “What did you just do?”
Naturally, he received no answer.
Dai Shengfan hurried through the cave, checking the time and glancing back constantly, fearing someone was chasing him. The stairs leading to the first floor were steep and winding. He nearly tripped several times, but the basement door was finally in sight. He was not sure if it was a hallucination, but he suddenly heard footsteps behind him.
Dai Shengfan scrambled forward, but in his panic, his foot slipped. At that moment, a golden light erupted in the stairwell. An invisible force gently lifted him and delivered him to the doorway. Dai Shengfan slumped onto the floor and looked up at the white-haired Taoist in purple robes standing before him. “Master Lu, you have finally arrived.”
Master Lu had the white hair of an old man but the youthful face of a child. He gave Dai Shengfan a slight nod.
“Do not let the man and the soul down there escape,” Dai Shengfan said through gritted teeth. He hesitated, then added, “Dai Sui.”
Master Lu said indifferently, “The little fellow is no problem. I can erase his memories.”
“That Ghost Hunter has some tricks, Master. Be careful,” Dai Shengfan cautioned. He watched Master Lu and his four young disciples disappear into the shadows of the stairwell, and finally let out a long sigh of relief. Master Lu had held the rank of Purple Robe for over twenty years and had been pushing for the Red Robe rank for the last two years. No matter how powerful that Ghost Hunter was, he would be no match.
Golden incantations floated in the air. The chanting of the Taoists sounded like a death knell to the ghosts hiding in every corner. This was an incredibly aggressive soul-suppressing technique. Low-level ghosts would dissipate into thin air within seconds. Even powerful vengeful spirits stood no chance under this “Requiem of Souls.”
“Brother Xin, what is happening to you?” Dai Sui asked in a panic. He tried to grab Lu Xincheng’s hand but caught only air, watching as those long, elegant fingers became translucent and flickering.
Lu Xincheng’s face was as white as paper. He steadied his voice and looked at Wen Yaozhi. “Someone is performing a ritual.”
Wen Yaozhi smirked. “This must be the reinforcements Dai Shengfan was waiting for.” He looked at Lu Xincheng. The gray-haired youth’s figure was flickering, looking as though he might vanish into the air at any moment. Wen Yaozhi’s eyes darkened, and he walked toward the exit without a word.
Dai Sui helped Lu Xincheng sit against the wall. Lu Xincheng used his translucent, icy fingers to give the boy’s palm a firm squeeze, signaling he was okay.
“Where did he go?” Dai Sui watched the man’s receding back.
Lu Xincheng’s eyes were still bloodshot and his face was full of exhaustion, but his mouth remained lively. “Who knows? Maybe he suddenly needs to use the bathroom.”
Dai Sui looked awkward. “What? In here?”
Looking at the earnest boy, Lu Xincheng let out a low, raspy laugh. “Don’t worry. He will not let my soul scatter in a place like this.”
The boy’s brow was furrowed and his expression was solemn. “Yes, I hope he is useful. Otherwise, I will just have to.”
Lu Xincheng was surprised. To his slight astonishment, Dai Sui rolled up his sleeves, revealing a fair wrist.
Master Lu finished inspecting the array his disciples had set up. His deep gaze searched the depths of the cave, filled with obvious disdain and arrogance. How troublesome could a young Ghost Hunter really be?
Just then, an incredibly sharp aura erupted. A grayish-white skeletal umbrella spun out like a top, smashing the golden array into pieces with a thunderous crash. Everyone turned at once.
“What is that?”
Master Lu and his four disciples were struck with absolute shock. They had never seen a physical attack capable of shattering a soul-suppressing array in a single strike. A tall figure emerged from the deep passage.
One disciple shouted, “What kind of monster are you?”
Master Lu flicked his sleeve, signaling the disciple to be quiet. He sized up the young man who looked barely in his early twenties. “You are a Ghost Hunter?” The aged voice was full of arrogance.
Ghost Hunters held a very low status in the metaphysical world. They were usually seen as those who could not master Taoist arts and resorted to crude, unofficial methods. In his eyes, they were all low-class hacks.
Wen Yaozhi was in no mood for small talk. He looked at the old Taoist coldly. “Your interference is not needed here. Leave immediately.”
Master Lu had not expected the other party to be so defiant. A sharp glint flashed in his eyes. “Since you are so ill-mannered, I shall teach you the ways of the world on behalf of your master today.”
Charms flared in Master Lu’s hand. Sand and small stones on the ground were drawn together by an invisible force, forming a giant boulder that hurtled toward Wen Yaozhi. Wen Yaozhi was faster, his movement like a ghost. In the blink of an eye, he had flashed behind the old Taoist, his fingers pressing against the carotid artery in his neck. Only then did the boulder crash into the spot where he had just been standing.
“Master!” the disciples cried out.
Wen Yaozhi’s low voice was heavy with pressure. “What did you say you were going to teach me?”
The wrinkles on the old Taoist’s face trembled. He stammered, “Master.”
“Hmph,” Wen Yaozhi sneered. “I have never had one of those, nor do I need one.”
Before absolute power, even the highest status must bow. The old Taoist nodded repeatedly. “Yes, yes.”
With their master’s life in his hands, the disciples lost their arrogance. “You, please let our master go. We will leave immediately and never return.”
“I gave you a chance earlier. Since you did not want to leave, then stay.” Wen Yaozhi glanced at the spot where the boulder had landed. The ground was deeply dented. If he had not dodged, he would be a pile of crushed meat by now.
Wen Yaozhi removed the belts from their Taoist robes. He tied the disciples together in pairs and bound the old Taoist alone. As he worked, he asked, “Dai Shengfan sent you down to clean up and silence us?”
The old Taoist’s face was ashen. “Yes.”
Wen Yaozhi tossed him into a corner after finishing the knots. “Rest assured, he will not get away either.”
Master Lu let out a groan. His old bones felt like they were falling apart. His task finished, Wen Yaozhi immediately headed back. There should be enough time, but his pace quickened unconsciously. When he returned to the original spot, he saw a scene that shocked him.
“What are you doing?” Wen Yaozhi could clearly hear his own voice trembling.
Dai Sui looked back in terror, like a child caught playing games he should not. Blood was still dripping from his wrist, but not a single drop hit the ground. It was all being consumed by someone. He tried to pull his wrist away, but it was held fast by a pair of icy palms.
Lu Xincheng tilted his chin, swallowing hard, while his eyes darted sideways to stare fixedly at the tall black figure, as if afraid the newcomer would steal his food. Those slightly upturned almond eyes looked more like peach-blossom eyes when narrowed. With his chin raised and his Adam’s apple bobbing, he possessed a soul-stirring beauty.
For a second or two, Wen Yaozhi lost himself, but he quickly snapped out of it. He snatched Dai Sui’s hand away and spoke coldly. “Do you know what you are doing?”
“It was just a little bit. I was really scared Brother Xin would disappear,” the boy muttered defensively.
The blood of someone like Dai Sui was equivalent to a living Tai Sui. There was no telling what kind of changes would happen to Lu Xincheng after drinking it.
“It is fine. I am fine now.” Lu Xincheng’s voice was raspy, but his complexion had clearly improved, and his translucent state had vanished.
Wen Yaozhi looked at him again. Likely due to having just consumed blood, his lips were a vivid, moist red. Lu Xincheng had a thin upper lip with a beautiful shape, naturally curved into a slight smile. His lower lip was fuller, with faint lines, looking like a piece of jelly: tender and soft. Wen Yaozhi shifted his gaze upward and saw that the blood-red in his eyes had not yet faded, and fine beads of sweat covered his forehead.
Wen Yaozhi spoke calmly, “The restriction on the basement has been broken.”
Lu Xincheng forced himself to stand. “Good. I can get out now. It is time to settle the score with Dai Shengfan once and for all.”
Wen Yaozhi stared at the weak spirit before him, his heterochromatic eyes flickering with unknown thoughts. After a moment, he turned his back. “Get on.”
Lu Xincheng looked at him in surprise. “Are you sure you want a ghost riding on your back?”
Wen Yaozhi cleared the bizarre mental image from his mind and steadied his expression. “We are friends, after all.”
Lu Xincheng paused for a long time. “It truly is my life’s honor to have a friend like you.” He then politely climbed onto that broad back.