“Aaaagh—”
A sharp scream pierced Xu Xianqing’s ears.
Her ears had already been buzzing relentlessly ever since the formation array exploded; now, she was completely deafened. She poked at the worse off ear, feeling as though it were entirely ruined. The other still functioned, though every sound trickled in with an unsettling distortion.
Xu Xianqing had been thoroughly spooked earlier, but that was mostly from the nerve-wracking atmosphere. Now that a corpse had actually tumbled out of the coffin, making the whole scene infinitely more eerie, her fear mysteriously vanished.
People only fear the unknown. Now that she knew it was just a dead body inside, the terror dissolved.
The funeral procession, however, did not share her sudden composure. The braver among them scattered like startled birds, while the fainthearted fainted dead away on the spot.
The Taoist priest approached, flanked by his young acolyte. The hand that had been shaking a bell earlier now gripped a long sword. They advanced cautiously…wary not only of the corpse on the ground, but also of this strange intruder who had appeared out of nowhere.
Yet, none of the expected horrors transpired. After rolling out of its wooden prison, the female corpse showed no signs of reanimating.
The priest inspected the body before calling out to the villagers, ordering them to put her back inside the coffin. Though terrified, the locals clearly held the priest in high regard; at his command, they plucked up just enough courage to return and finish the job.
As the priest barked orders and got everyone back to work, his cunning, narrow eyes locked onto Xu Xianqing with a vicious, predatory glare. He was weighing her up…and issuing a clear warning.
“Who are you?” the priest demanded.
Xu Xianqing glanced at the cultivation floating above his head:
Feng Kun
Stage 8 Foundation Establishment | Cultivation: 897
Looks like he was on the verge of breaking through to Stage 9.
“Just passing through,” Xu Xianqing replied evenly. “Came from Gucheng.”
Feng Kun narrowed his eyes until they were nothing more than slits. Stroking his beard, he pressed further: “What is a native of Gucheng doing all the way out here?”
“I’m not here for this place; I’m just passing through on my way to Yilin Prefecture.”
Yilin Prefecture was the next major city, rumored to be far grander and more prosperous than Gucheng. The region surrounding it had fewer prominent cultivation families and a higher concentration of small sects. Its governor was a representative jointly chosen by those sects.
It was a very different dynamic from Gucheng, where powerful families and rogue cultivators held sway, and the governor was merely a puppet backed by the grand clans.
Feng Kun scoffed softly. “Looking at your face, you carry the mark of a born lone curse. What family could you possibly be searching for?”
Xu Xianqing was genuinely caught off guard. She hadn’t expected this priest to actually possess real skill…to be able to read her so accurately.
She had long realized this world operated differently from her previous life. Back then, fortune-telling from facial features was a common trick, but in this realm, only cultivators who specifically studied the discipline could discern such secrets. Sword cultivators, for instance, were utterly clueless about it.
Those who could read the thread of fate from a face were usually Divination Cultivators.
“That’s hardly any of your business, Priest,” Xu Xianqing said, straightening her posture to project a firmer presence.
Sure enough, Feng Kun didn’t push further. “Wugen Village doesn’t welcome outsiders,” he said flatly. “I suggest you take a detour through neighboring Laohuai Village instead, and head to Yilin Prefecture from there.”
With that, Feng Kun turned back to the funeral procession. Sheathing his sword, he resumed chanting his strange, rhythmic incantations.
Xu Xianqing pulled a map from her saddlebag and unrolled it. Sure enough, only Wugen Village was marked; there was no mention of any Laohuai Village anywhere on the parchment.
Was it simply omitted when the map was drawn, or was Feng Kun trying to trick her?
Unable to figure it out, she studied the routes again. Passing through Wugen Village was by far the most direct path to Yilin Prefecture. Any detour would add miles to her journey through uncharted territory. If she got lost, finding her way back on track would be a nightmare.
After a moment’s thought, she decided to stick to her original plan.
If Wugen Village didn’t take in strangers, she simply wouldn’t ask for a bed. At worst, she could pitch camp in the nearby forest and forage for wild fruit or hunt small game.
She continued riding toward the village.
At the entrance stood a stone monument twice the height of a person, carved with three bold characters: Wugen Village.
Past the marker, she spotted a large pond where a group of women were washing clothes.
Xu Xianqing frowned and glanced up at the sky. At this hour, most villagers should have been out in the fields. Rural women were typically diligent, gathering at the water’s edge at the crack of dawn to do their washing together.
Why were they washing now?
“Excuse me, sisters,” Xu Xianqing called out pleasantly. “May I ask why you’re doing the laundry at this hour?”
None of them looked up. It was as if they hadn’t heard a word, continuing their labor in dead silence, not even speaking to one another.
In both her past and present lives, whenever women gathered to wash clothes, gossip flowed freely. Even back at the Ye Manor, the young maidservants would share jokes while scrubbing linens.
Why did these women seem completely devoid of life?
A wave of vigilance washed over Xu Xianqing. The further she went, the more she felt she shouldn’t linger.
Had that priest actually been giving her a genuine warning earlier?
She wasn’t naturally suspicious of others, but everything she had endured since arriving in this world had taught her to trust carefully.
Her hand drifted down to grasp the Golden Core resting against her chest.
The only person I could truly trust… is already gone.
On the map, Wugen Village looked tiny, yet as she walked, the road felt endless.
She didn’t know how long she had been walking, but just as exhaustion and hunger began to set in, she unhooked her waterskin, only to find it completely dry. Beside her, the spirit steed was also flagging from fatigue.
Giving up on pushing forward, Xu Xianqing turned back.
Oddly enough, the return journey was impossibly swift. After taking only a few quick strides, she found herself right back at the pond where the women were washing.
Just then, a commotion echoed from the village entrance.
It was the funeral procession returning.
The priest strode at the front, flanked by his acolyte, followed by a crowd of villagers who were now practically beaming with joy.
Xu Xianqing’s brow furrowed.
Why were people returning from a funeral with delighted expressions on their faces? This didn’t look like they had just buried a dead person…it looked like they were coming back from a wedding.
A wedding?
She remembered the female corpse from earlier…adorned in a bride’s crimson robes, her soul sealed by iron nails, her eyes frozen open in agonizing defiance.
She hadn’t just been buried; she had been forced into a ghost marriage while still alive.
So for these villagers, it was a wedding procession.
How utterly absurd.
Suddenly, the women by the pond…who had been stone-silent moments ago…seemed to snap back to life the second the men returned. They began laughing, chatting, and teasing one another. But despite the sudden appearance of normalcy, the scene only felt more skin crawlingly bizarre to Xu Xianqing.
At that moment, an elderly man who appeared to be the village chief stepped forward from the crowd. He walked over with steady, deliberate steps and stopped in front of her.
“You’re from out of town, aren’t you, traveler? It’s getting late…why not stay in our village for the night before moving on?”
Xu Xianqing instinctively took a half-step back. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the Taoist priest.
Stroking his beard, he gave her a faint, almost imperceptible shake of his head.