On the Ghost Spirit Continent, in the eastern region of the Eastern Sacred Divine Continent, stood a small- to mid-sized power known as the Weiyun Sect.
In his later years, Former Sect Master Ling Weiyun broke through to Eighth-Revolution Cultivation and became an Advanced Ghost Spirit Master, gaining renown for a time.
The Weiyun Sect's standing rose with his, allowing it to press the Blackwater Sect and the Withered Leaf Sect beneath it.
But the good times didn't last!
As his eightieth birthday approached, Ling Weiyun dropped dead at home for no apparent reason. His bizarre death shocked every power, large and small, within a hundred miles.
"Father, you died so tragically..."
At the Weiyun Sect, mourning drums rang without pause. The entire sect wore sackcloth and mourning garb, wailing in grief...
"My lord, how could you abandon me alone?"
Two middle-aged men and a woman in her sixties stood before the black wooden coffin in the mourning hall, their wails shaking the heavens. It was a pitiful sight.
They were none other than Ling Weiyun's sons and his widow.
"Ah, the dead cannot be brought back to life! Madam, Young Sect Masters, please restrain your grief!"
The three of them were overflowing with emotion. Representatives from other powers who had come for the funeral feast shook their heads and sighed as they offered words of comfort.
"Ahem!" At the sound, the three who had been wailing and pounding the ground raised their brows. They exchanged a covert glance through their sleeves, then slowly rose together.
The old woman even feigned unsteadiness, as if she were about to collapse. Her two sons hurried forward from either side to support her.
"Second Uncle speaks truly. We shall now see Father off!" A flash of wild joy flickered deep within Ling Chi and Ling Han's tear-filled eyes as they nodded to the roughly seventy-year-old man in the hall.
This "Second Uncle" of theirs had left the then still-weak Ling Family decades ago. Though he had since become the Chief Elder of the Withered Leaf Sect, a position of high standing and power, and his cultivation had reached the level of an Intermediate Ghost Spirit Master at the Sixth Rank.
But because he had abandoned the Ling Family, he was destined to remain unrelated to the Ghost Spirit Inheritance. Thus, the two of them were not worried in the least.
"Let's begin. This old man is busy and has no time to waste on such empty formalities!"
Big Brother Ling Weiyun, for whom he'd held a shred of brotherly affection, was already dead, and his two sons were such worthless sorts.
If he had not been representing the Withered Leaf Sect, Elder Lingchen would not have come to lay eyes on them.
"Yes, Second Uncle!"
At those words, Ling Chi and Ling Han concealed the killing intent in their eyes and ordered everyone to withdraw ten meters.
The two stepped forward and knelt before the coffin, facing upward with their hands outstretched as if offering a sacrifice to the heavens!
"Ancestors above, the eighth-generation descendants of the Ling Family — Ling Chi and Ling Han..."
Their excitement was plain to see. They paused in their prayer, then raised their voices and bowed down: "We humbly beg for the Spirit Infusion!"
The mourning music continued, and the onlookers had grown used to the pair's antics. Quite a few, in fact, wore looks of envy.
"Caw~"
A quarter of an hour passed...
A big white-eyed Crow flew past. The two men kneeling on the ground kept their backsides raised high, their hands spread wide as they waited for the baptism to descend.
But from that black wooden coffin,
not the faintest stir came!
"Hiss! The spirit-summoning failed?"
This was something that had never happened before!
The crowd erupted in astonishment, and the looks directed at Ling Chi and Ling Han grew increasingly strange!
The faint, veiled smile on the old woman's face froze. The crowd's burning gazes swept over the three of them again and again, leaving her aged face flushed with embarrassment.
Elder Lingchen grew more impatient as he waited. With a trace of anger, he urged the two to pray for the spirit's guidance again.
"We humbly beg, Ancestors, for the Spirit Infusion..."
The two suppressed their confusion and bowed again. Before they could finish speaking, everything before their eyes went black!
"BOOM!!!"
A thunderous blast and two startled screams rang out as the entire coffin lid flew off in bizarre fashion!
It struck the two men square in the face as they raised their hands to bow again, sending them sprawling.
The mourning music cut off abruptly...
The crowd stood dumbstruck and stared at the lidless coffin. Their hearts pounded.
"Slap!"
A withered, aged hand gripped the coffin's wooden board, setting everyone's nerves on edge.
A moment later, rumbling sounds filled the air, and the entire coffin exploded into splinters.
"Hiss!?"
Under the crowd's horrified gazes, a White-Haired, withered old man crawled from the flying wood shards. The two dazed men found themselves face-to-face with him!
"Ah, a ghost! You, you... stay back!"
Their vision cleared, revealing a deathly pale, wrinkled smile in their pupils!
Ling Chi and Ling Han went pale and trembled all over. They knocked their heads against the ground like rattling drums, their voices thick with tears: "Father, please don't scare us... Your sons have weak hearts!"
"My good sons, Father missed you... so I came home to see you!" An ethereal yet stiff voice echoed through the mourning hall, sounding bone-chilling.
The two men, who had been kowtowing and begging for mercy, shuddered. Their scalps prickled as icy dread surged up their backs, silencing every sound and movement.
The reason was that a pair of withered old hands, cold and biting as frost, were now stroking their heads!
"Aaah, aah! The corpse has risen..."
Two or three piercing shrieks burst out. The handful of male and female musicians playing at the ceremony scrambled toward the exit, stumbling as they fled the mourning hall.
Terrified, they did not even dare retrieve their fallen instruments, afraid that turning back would cost them their lives.
"What manner of demon are you?"
The hired musicians were nothing more than ordinary people, so naturally they were scared out of their wits.
But Ling Chi and Ling Han, those two fools, were Fifth-Stage Ghost Spirit Masters! Yet fear had reduced them to this state...
Elder Lingchen shook his head with an inward sigh. He led the others with a sharp shout, jolting the low-level Ghost Spirit Masters from their stupor.
At once, more than fifty Sect Disciples of the Weiyun Sect surrounded the three figures beside the coffin, forming layer upon layer of encirclement. Dark light poured forth from all sides...
Fainted?
Useless!
"Ahem~" Kicking aside the two eyesores of failures, the old man slowly rose to his feet.
He looked at the wary Elder Lingchen. His deathly pale old face twisted into a smile uglier than a cry: "Second Brother Chen! It's me, your big brother Ling Weiyun..."
Second Brother Chen?
Elder Lingchen froze: only Big Brother would ever call him that! Could it be...
"Are you truly Big Brother Weiyun?"
Lingchen was still uncertain, half in disbelief.
Ling Weiyun—or rather, Feng Ling—seized the moment and let himself fall weakly toward the ground.
After glimpsing a figure rushing forward in panic, Feng Ling let the corner of his mouth lift before composing himself.
"Big Brother!!" Elder Lingchen caught the withered old man in his arms, tears streaming down his face!
An uproar broke out. Embarrassed, the crowd dispersed the light in their hands but did not put away the Pitch-Black Token that had produced it.
"My lord!!" Madam Pan Yuan wailed and threw herself before Ling Weiyun, putting on a convincing show.
"Who are you?" A flash of disgust crossed Feng Ling's eyes as he rose with Elder Lingchen's support, coldly regarding the old woman sprawled before him.
"Ah! I am your first wife..." Madam Pan Yuan's heart lurched — had this old fool lost his memory?
"..."
First wife!? So old...
Feng Ling's old eyes twitched. He was already unlucky enough as it was — if he had to take on an old woman as a wife on top of it...
What a pain!
He refused outright. After all, in his past life he had been a handsome young man, with more young and beautiful female admirers than he could count.
"Nonsense! This old man doesn't know you at all. Get out of my sight, this instant!"
"My lord! You... waah~ waah~"
Madam Pan Yuan covered her mouth and fled the hall in tears. Her weeping looked pitiful, but inwardly the middle-aged woman rejoiced: perfect, an easy escape!
"Big Brother! Are you all right?"
Elder Lingchen frowned and asked in a low voice.
"I'm fine, I'm fine! Let's go — we brothers haven't seen each other in years, let's go get a drink!"
Still wearing his burial shroud, Feng Ling waved dismissively. Ignoring the crowd's strange stares, he stumbled out of the mourning hall, pulling Elder Lingchen along.
They walked for what felt like ages but barely covered a few steps...
Damn it! This body was falling apart, Feng Ling cursed inwardly.
Then he sighed: "Forget it. Being reborn is already a stroke of fortune—I'll have to make do with what I've got!"
Even piloting this old wreck of a body,
what's wrong with that?!
He believed that, with his past life's unfathomable, ghost-and-god-defying assassination skills, he could thrive and rise to prominence once more!
It's just... this body was halfway into the grave, yet he still had to go out and act cool while dominating people...
Was this a good idea...
Life isn't something you persist in because you hope; you see hope because you persist...
Amid the myriad tangled troubles of this world, may the Sages grant every one of you a Pure Land of the Soul.