Liu Chen was still hiding his face, as usual, his entire body shrouded in a large black cloak, the hood completely obscuring his features.
Ying Zhao glared at Liu Chen with hatred. “You talk a good game, but your actions are so unscrupulous. How can I still trust you?”
Liu Chen’s voice carried a smile, but his words were merciless: “What’s wrong with the City Lord now? You’ve done everything you should and shouldn’t have done. Now you’re getting picky, calling us unscrupulous? Hmph~ How hypocritical.”
Ying Zhao was so angry that two streams of white vapor shot from his nose. “You heretical cultivators are truly despicable. What did you tell me at the beginning? And what are you doing now?”
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became: “You clearly said you only needed the purest spiritual energy of newborns. But now? You won’t spare anything that’s alive. This is absolutely insane!”
“Oh, since when did Lord Ying Zhao start imitating those Buddhist monks? I didn’t see you hesitate when you killed your own men, did I? What’s wrong now? We just caught one extra litter of otters. What, are you closer to the otter clan than to your own people?” Liu Chen paid no heed to Ying Zhao’s accusations.
“We heretical cultivators are insane, but Lord Ying Zhao is no different.” He even sounded a little proud.
Ying Zhao fell silent. He had to admit — although these heretical cultivators were insane, their resolve was firm. In contrast, he, the one who kept wavering, was the most despicable of all.
He had nothing more to say. He simply turned away, refusing to look at the piles of bones beside him or the bizarre, towering altar where blood flowed upward in reverse.
The ritual to resurrect Zhuque and the forbidden technique that Fu Ye cultivated were essentially the same thing. Otherwise, Fu Ye wouldn’t have been fully confident he could borrow Zhuque’s power.
Since they were the same thing, naturally, the materials required were identical.
The resurrection ceremony for Zhuque had to align with the heavenly timing. Forced to meet that timing, Ying Zhao had no choice but to instigate a great war in the demon realm. Here tical cultivators infiltrated various demon cities, making the conflict grow larger and harder to stop.
But even now, it wasn’t enough. Still not enough.
Until a few hours ago, Ying Zhao himself was unwilling to act. But the heretical cultivators had long since grown tired of pretending and no longer followed his orders — regardless of whether it was a demon, a human, or a spirit, anything alive, they captured it all.
Under the constant infusion of blood and life energy, the eerie altar grew taller and taller. Rootless flames flickered all around, and countless souls wailed in silent agony.
Ying Zhao didn’t know what he was feeling.
On one hand, he hoped everything would go smoothly — that Zhuque would be resurrected and reopen the upper realm, and that he could ascend along with them. Then he would never have to worry about his future fate or the great calamity that could strike at any time again.
On the other hand, having come this far, he sadly realized that he missed how things used to be. Just being the City Lord of Luoyang City, living peacefully — that wasn’t so bad after all.
But with one wrong decision, he had already passed the point of no return. If Zhuque’s plan failed, he would certainly face dire consequences. And then his children would…
Now, there was only one path left for him to take.
…
In a dark crevice deep underground, Chi Lian and Ye Yang — both reduced to their original forms and shrunk even smaller — dared not move a muscle. They listened silently to the conversation, growing more alarmed with each word.
So that was it. This was how it was.
That was why Ying Zhao stood far away from the crowd. Why Little Thirteen had sent a message telling Ye Yang to leave Can Mountain quickly. Why Ji Qing, who had always been so warmhearted, had fallen into enemy hands.
The tiny red snake and the even smaller sea hare exchanged a glance, both seeing the heaviness in each other’s eyes.
Were Little Thirteen and Brother Ji Qing really still alive?
Ten minutes earlier —
Ye Yang insisted on going to the secret realm, but Director Tu ordered him to stay at YCG. If he couldn’t return to Dongzhou, he had to remain at the Can Mountain YCG.
Ye Yang was both anxious and confused: “Why? Don’t you also think my abilities could be useful?” It wasn’t just Little Thirteen and Ji Qing — Shen Ming was in the secret realm too. And from what Elder Li and the others were saying, even Shen Ming wasn’t sure he could stop Zhuque’s resurrection. How could he hide here in good conscience?
“Lord Xuanwu instructed that you absolutely must not go,” Director Tu said with a troubled expression.
Ye Yang pressed his lips together. So that was it.
Hearing this answer, he wasn’t very surprised. Shen Ming still knew him too well.
“Alright, you two — since you can’t help weave the barrier, just stay put. I’m busy!”
With that, Director Tu left, directly casting a movement-blocking spell to lock Ye Yang and Chi Lian inside the room.
…
Two minutes later, Director Tu and the remaining Can Mountain staff were working every second to set up a barrier to protect Can Mountain City. Suddenly, his heart stirred, and he muttered to himself: “Don’t blame me for this, Lord Xuanwu. I’m busy protecting ordinary humans here. Who knew that in the blink of an eye, these two demons would just run off?”
·
Ye Yang and Chi Lian, of course, had no intention of just staying put and doing nothing. Ye Yang had a special connection with Shen Ming through a scale. From a while ago, the scale had been faintly vibrating. Ye Yang didn’t know what it meant, but this had never happened before.
Pushing aside his unease, as soon as Director Tu left, they began studying how to break the movement-blocking spell. Almost effortlessly, they undid it. Without overthinking, Ye Yang rushed straight out.
Chi Lian grabbed Ye Yang: “Wait. I’m going too.” His comrades Brother Xing and Sister Wu had also gone. Now Ye Yang was going — how could he stay here alone?
Ye Yang: “Okay!”
The secret realm wasn’t as hard to find as they had imagined. With the scale guiding them, Ye Yang and Chi Lian located it with almost no trouble — nearly landing right on Ying Zhao’s face in the process. Fortunately, Chi Lian was there to help.
But oddly enough, even though Shen Ming had arrived much earlier than them, there was no sign of him anywhere.
Once inside the secret realm, the scale’s connection became disrupted. Ye Yang could only confirm that Shen Ming was somewhere nearby, roughly to the north — but the exact distance was impossible to tell.
Yet all he could see was the strange altar, Ying Zhao, and a large number of heretical cultivators. Even the city guards of Luoyang City, who usually followed Ying Zhao everywhere, were nowhere to be seen.
And of course — endless piles of bones.
Chi Lian transmitted his voice: “What do we do now?”
Ye Yang replied: “First, find Little Thirteen and Ji Qing.”
From a quick glance earlier, he had noticed some movement in a corner beneath the altar. Maybe Little Thirteen and the others were there.
Easier said than done. Sneaking past so many heretical cultivators without alerting them was like walking on thin ice.
They moved carefully along the cracks in the earth. Just a few meters in — suddenly, an indescribable, bone-chilling sensation rose from the soles of their feet.
Ye Yang and Chi Lian froze instantly. They poked their heads out in terror and looked back —
The towering altar suddenly erupted with crimson light. The shadow of a giant bird had appeared, looming over everything on the ground. The blood that had been slowly flowing upward was now being drawn in faster, its speed abruptly increasing. Ye Yang could even hear the sound of it rushing — shuala shuala.
The originally dim sky of the secret realm was now fully illuminated by blazing flames. Every heretical cultivator’s eyes reflected the ominous firelight, mirroring the sudden surge of fanaticism in their gazes.
“Not good — the ceremony is about to begin!” Chi Lian’s heart turned cold. If the ritual was starting, then the sacrifices…
Ye Yang gritted his teeth. “It hasn’t started yet. There’s still a chance.”
With that, he suddenly shifted into human form and shoved Chi Lian — still in his small snake form — into an invisible crack in the ground. Then he charged straight toward the altar.
Chi Lian: “!” Caught off guard, he fell straight down into a narrow crevice and got stuck, narrowly avoiding the sweeping gazes of the surrounding heretical cultivators.
When he finally poked his head out again, he saw a sight that made his heart stop —
“Well, well, little one. We meet again.”
Liu Chen stood beneath the altar, holding Ye Yang’s barely alive true form in his hand. The little sea hare’s already semi-transparent body had become almost completely clear, scorched by Zhuque’s divine fire. Moisture was draining away. The gray antennae on its head and the leaves on its back had lost all their luster, drooping limply and wrinkled.
“I was just wondering when you’d come out. Such a pity — after all this time without seeing each other, you haven’t improved in the slightest.”
Ye Yang was too severely injured to even speak.
“No matter. With your spiritual energy and life force added in, the ceremony will be absolutely foolproof. You’re quite lucky, you know — you get to witness the return of the most powerful god!”
With his great achievement imminent, Liu Chen could no longer maintain his usual composure. His tone grew increasingly fanatical. Ye Yang, dangling from his hand, could even feel his body trembling with excitement.
With that, Liu Chen flicked his hand, and the little sea hare was tossed into the air.
Ye Yang’s vision spun rapidly. He saw Little Thirteen with tears in her eyes. He saw Ji Qing staring at him with regret in his gaze. He saw the otter clan and the white mink clan tied up alongside Little Thirteen…
He had finally found them. But there was nothing he could do anymore.
He couldn’t even withstand a single blow from Liu Chen, let alone save anyone — couldn’t even buy a little time. He was so useless…
Ye Yang felt calm. At least he had tried. He had no regrets. Even if he had known this would be the ending, he still couldn’t have stayed away.
In his final moments, he realized that his last regret was that on the day he left Dongzhou for Can Mountain, he hadn’t had time to eat the salt-baked quail eggs that Teacher Shen made.
Teacher Shen…
Shen Ming…
“Ye Yang.”
“…?” Was it an illusion? Ye Yang felt his body floating helplessly through the air, being drawn toward the sea of blood within the altar. His thoughts drifted. He thought he was hallucinating, imagining Teacher Shen’s voice… Did he care about Teacher Shen that much?
“YE YANG!!”
“!” Wait — maybe it wasn’t an illusion?
Suddenly, his body was pulled by an external force. Ye Yang jolted violently, his mind clearing slightly. Then, a stream of water rich with spiritual energy washed over him, and the familiar power of Xuanwu instantly surged through his limbs and bones.
Shen Ming?
Teacher Shen was here!
Only when he landed steadily on the ground did Ye Yang truly believe it — Shen Ming had really come.
“We’ll settle this later.” Shen Ming pushed Ye Yang toward Ji Qing, who had also just been rescued, and turned to face Liu Chen. Xuanwu’s true form materialized in midair, showing signs of pressing down on the giant bird above.
Ye Yang’s gaze followed him — but then he noticed something strange about Ying Zhao and Liu Chen across the way.
Why weren’t they afraid at all? Why no surprise?
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