Chapter 630: Why Did She Even Bother Coming Out?

The agony and strength brought by Huá Sāng’s extremely unstable Spirit Pattern had always been proportional.

The immense force she endured was described as “ten thousand jun”1, but that was merely a figure of speech. The actual weight was nowhere near as modest as precisely ten thousand jun.

When Huá Sāng was first brought to the Great Pure Palace, Qingxiazi had wanted to grow closer to her new disciple and help untie the knot in her heart. She had solemnly assured Huá Sāng, “Your power isn’t frightening. At least, I’m not afraid of it. If you don’t believe me, punch me with all your strength.”

The young Huá Sāng was moved by Qingxiazi’s sincere gaze and earnest tone, so she very seriously punched her once. The result was three broken ribs and internal damage to her spleen from night erosion.

Of course, Qingxiazi showed nothing unusual at the time. Enduring the pain, she completed Huá Sāng’s first round of psychological counseling. Only when Zhang Huainan treated her injuries did she finally drop the act and cough up half a basin of old blood.

Qingxiazi later recalled that it had felt like being struck head-on by a high-speed train.

Even more deadly, that train had been hauling an entire load of nuclear waste…

Had Huá Sāng not resisted by refusing to speak to Qingxiazi for half a year, Qingxiazi would probably still be jokingly calling her “High-Speed Rail Girl” to this day.

Brute strength on this level was more lethal than most spell formations and far more efficient. That was why Huá Sāng chose to attack with body techniques.

The Thirty-Six Forms of Xinyi Liuhe Palm might be named for the palm, but once variations using fists, feet, and palms were included, it contained one hundred and eight transformations.

Against the objectified Hu Chuan, she had cycled through those one hundred and eight transformations more than thirty times. The gathered force erupted inside that pale ball of flesh. According to Qingxiazi, it was equivalent to more than four thousand trains loaded with nuclear waste rampaging through his body.

The paths they traced were even more tangled than a map of the nation’s entire railway network…

“Splat—!”

With the muffled sound of flesh bursting apart, the mass of gore—which would still have been unsuitable for children even beneath three layers of mosaic censorship—shot away. The thick black slurry it scattered drew a trail more than a hundred meters long across the asphalt.

Huá Sāng watched the twisted flesh fly into the distance. Bent over, she braced trembling hands against her knees. Her lips parted slightly as her chest heaved, and columns of mist poured from her mouth.

“Huff—huff—!”

Is it over? I dealt with that man, right?

After adjusting her condition slightly, Huá Sāng turned toward Lu Yibei and Qing Ji behind her, then froze.

The “Qing Ji” that Hu Chuan had created through the ferule by exercising the Codename F haunting’s power had not disappeared. Lu Yibei was still being beaten…

The ferocity and ruthlessness with which Senior Qing Ji attacked made Huá Sāng’s heart tremble and scalp go numb.

It was like watching someone wedge a bamboo skewer beneath their toenail and kick a wall as hard as they could. It was not fatal, but the mere sight sent sympathetic agony through one’s flesh.

“…”

Still, Lu Yibei might look miserable now, but she did not seem to be in mortal danger.

Senior Qing Ji was Lu Yibei’s great-great-grandfather. A grandfather disciplining his grandson already fell within the realm of family affairs…

Would it be inappropriate for me to interfere right now? Huá Sāng wondered.

During Lu Yibei and Qing Ji’s clash, the humming of sword against sword had reverberated incessantly in their ears. Even so, the muffled explosion of the pale flesh broke through the noise and reached them.

The instant they heard flesh burst, both briefly lowered their swords and looked toward Huá Sāng. The sight that greeted them left them frozen in unison.

Qing Ji: “…”

Oh no, that boy… Wait, why am I still here?

One moment, he had been worried that he would disappear when Hu Chuan suddenly died. The next, he realized he did not seem affected at all.

Was it because of… the haunting whose power that boy exercised on its behalf?

That was fine too. He still had a chance to finish his final lesson for his great-grandson’s wife… Qing Ji thought.

He knew perfectly well that once the Pure Lotus Sword was made whole, he would most likely disappear. Then he would no longer have any opportunity to teach his great-grandson’s wife.

After all, the version of him that carried his elderly memories was itself the portion that had been cast aside…

“Ha! Ancestor is so lame. He doesn’t understand anything at all!”

“The moment Hu Chuan chose to merge with the portion of power he was exercising and became an immobile ‘object,’ the whole point of this game became sneaking in to destroy his base…”

“His base is practically gone, yet he’s still laning against me like a madman. Stupid, muddleheaded—a beast braying through a human mouth!”

Lu Yibei prattled on, secretly delighted. Her peripheral vision swept the space beside her. She paused, spun around, and saw Qing Ji still standing there. Her entire body went rigid.

Qing Ji rolled his neck, clasped his fists, and flexed his wrists. Amid the crisp crackle of his joints, he asked darkly, “Who did you just call a beast braying through a human mouth?”

“Uh, well, actually…” Lu Yibei opened her mouth and was about to argue when Qing Ji’s blade came slashing down before her.

Fierce, biting sword energy struck her face. Lu Yibei’s vision went dark, and she vaguely heard the name of a dish. Her mood plunged to rock bottom.

She heard Qing Ji say, “Wensi tofu…”

“???”

Wait, old man, why are you always picking on those dishes?

Could he be implying… that I’m a total noob? Lu Yibei wondered.

During their earlier exchange, Lu Yibei had vaguely discovered a correspondence between the dish names Qing Ji occasionally blurted out and the sword moves he used next.

According to the pattern she had observed so far, the complexity of preparing the ingredients for each dish was directly proportional to the speed and ferocity of its corresponding sword move.

The more complicated the preparation, the faster and fiercer the move.

But the dish names she had heard before were all ordinary home cooking, such as stir-fried cabbage, preserved-mustard pork belly, and spicy diced chicken.

When preparing normal portions, cutting the ingredients required only a few dozen strokes at most.

Wensi tofu, however, had always been famed for its exquisite knife work, soft and delicate purity, and melt-in-the-mouth texture. To prepare it, a palm-sized block of tofu had to be cut at least eighty-eight times horizontally and one hundred and eighty-eight times vertically.

Judging by the experience she had summarized, this strike would be at least dozens of times faster and fiercer than the previous ones!

“Clang—!”

A piercing hum erupted.

The instant their blades met, Qing Ji stepped forward and deftly turned his wrist. His sword slid along the Pure Lotus Sword and traced a semicircle. Then he drove the hilt forward and upward, touching it to the center of Lu Yibei’s brow.

Like a dragonfly skimming water, it withdrew the instant it touched.

In that instant, a vast and mighty force poured through the hilt into Lu Yibei’s body and filled every limb and bone. It ravaged every inch of flesh and every bone, then erupted violently at her vital points.

For one moment, Lu Yibei even felt as though the true-body cores of her hauntings were about to be shattered.

Her body floated backward, spinning through the air in a beautiful arc.

Qing Ji’s strike clearly had not used the Inverse-Form Evil Blossom Gu, yet every sound vanished from Lu Yibei’s awareness and the flow of time became incomparably slow.

Raindrops drifted down at a crawl. She could even see the trails they left as they pierced the dense fog.

It did not feel as though Qing Ji had cast some strange spell formation. It was more as if he had cut a tiny gap into the river of time.

So this is… a true catastrophe-class being? Lu Yibei thought.

In the deathly silence, she traveled dozens of meters through the air before slamming heavily into the ground. She bounced several times, smashing shallow pits into the road, then continued sliding over the slick surface until she struck the mountainside at a bend in the highway.

“Boom—!”

With the tremendous impact, the light before Lu Yibei’s eyes gradually dimmed.

“…”

I’ve always thought Ancestor was strong enough to be a monster, but this time…

Doesn’t the old man’s power level count as blatant inflation?

Developers, look at him! Lu Yibei thought.

She knew perfectly well that if Qing Ji had touched his sword point, rather than the hilt, to the center of her brow, she would already be dead…

Late at night, in India.

On an empty helipad, a helicopter bearing a special insignia rose into the air. Carrying several psychics, it flew toward Pashupati Temple.

The psychics were members of a special organization called Aptya.

Aptya took its name from “Trita Aptya,” the deity in Indian mythology who drove back demons. It was India’s equivalent of The Midnight Watchers Society.

Unlike The Midnight Watchers Society, however, its daily work was difficult at every turn.

After all, in a country filled with every imaginable sect and belief, people who encountered a haunting incident preferred to seek aid from a temple or use one haunting to defeat another. One could only say…

India had its own particular customs.

Not long ago, Zhang Huainan had sent a message out of the Codename F haunting’s Divine Land. After receiving it, a certain Wordless Book immediately contacted the various powers.

In the process, she discovered that Pashupati Temple had gone silent and turned to the local Aptya.

Aptya might occupy an awkward position in India, but it was also the organization there most willing to cooperate with The Midnight Watchers Society.

After receiving Wordless Book’s message, the Aptya outpost closest to Pashupati Temple immediately dispatched personnel.

…

The helicopter flew toward Pashupati Temple, its rapidly spinning rotors producing deafening noise. Under cover of that roar, several Aptya members freely discussed things they normally dared not mention in public.

“If you ask me, The Midnight Watchers Society should’ve contacted us from the start. We could’ve taken people straight to Pashupati Temple and sealed it off. Then none of this would’ve happened.”

“I just don’t understand what’s so good about worshiping hauntings. Put the initiative in my hands instead—I’d be delighted!”

“Tch, tch. You haven’t heard? Those monks in that lousy temple look respectable enough by day, but behind closed doors, they know how to party better than anyone. Last time I vacationed in Hyderabad, I saw two monks with my own eyes, dancing up a storm with girls at a nightclub…”

“When did you go to Hyderabad?”

“…” In the ensuing silence, the man met his girlfriend’s eyes. The atmosphere became painfully awkward.

The next instant, the helicopter suddenly shuddered violently. An abnormal noise came from the rotors, breaking the silence.

“Damn it, a bird hit the rotor!” the pilot said, half complaining and half explaining. “It’s nothing serious. Don’t worry about it.”

The helicopter fell silent once more.

Beneath the profound night sky, the high-speed rotor flung away the bird it had shredded, scattering fragments of plastic fiber and pale blood.

A few minutes later.

Someone in the cabin suddenly pointed out the window and cried out.

“Everyone, look! What the hell is that?!”

They were nearing Pashupati Temple. Following his finger, the group saw the outlines of the temple and the small town clustered around it—as well as several sights that made their skin crawl.

The sky shimmered with brilliant colors as though an aurora had appeared. Great flocks of birds circled beneath the clouds, emitting unpleasant, hoarse cries.

All manner of objects were attached to their bodies. Some had plastic straws embedded all over their heads. Some were wrapped in nylon fishing nets. Others wore the torn half of a shopping bag around their bodies.

The sight evoked creatures harmed by marine refuse in documentaries.

From a distance, it looked as though an entire landfill had taken flight!

On the ground, a pallid monster sprawled over Pashupati Temple and crawled slowly. It resembled an enormous snake, yet also some kind of worm magnified countless times.

Its body, seemingly made from viscous flesh, writhed ceaselessly and radiated a colorful haze. From time to time, it extended thick tentacles in an attempt to catch the birds passing overhead.

The fur-like tissue covering its back revealed itself, on closer inspection, to be human figures.

Half of each figure’s body had fused into the monster. They held all manner of poses: some twisted and struggled, some wore savage expressions of rage, while others closed their eyes in prayer, their faces devout.

Simply looking at them made one feel as though their dying wails were audible.

“Damn it, what the hell is that? Do those people from The Midnight Watchers Society honestly think we can handle a haunting at this level?”

“Enough useless talk. Ali, go! Get us out of here! We need to request the big guns from the organization!”

Chaos broke out inside the helicopter, but it soon sank into dead silence.

“You… can’t go back.” The pilot’s voice sounded strange as he slowly turned around. Only then did everyone see that his hands had somehow fused with the controls. Several thread-thin strands of pale flesh extended from the instrument panel and joined with his chest.

In the silence, the helicopter abruptly jolted without warning and plunged toward the ground as though something were dragging it down. Yet the expected crash never came.

The helicopter seemed to fall into a viscous liquid. It raised not the slightest ripple and made not a sound.

“Woooo—!”

An eerie howl that made the skin crawl echoed over Pashupati Temple.

Lu Yibei clearly remembered being sent flying by Qing Ji and crashing into the mountainside. But as consciousness gradually returned, she discovered that she seemed to be lying in someone’s arms.

She slowly woke from her daze. Every part of her body hurt like hell, yet she also felt indescribably refreshed.

It was like receiving a Thai massage performed with Vajra Palm.

Then she suddenly felt someone trace a circle through the long hair atop her head with one finger, bend down, and blow a warm, damp breath into her ear.

Goose bumps covered her body in an instant, and she shuddered.

A familiar voice sounded beside her ear.

“My Beibei, frightened into an emotional collapse because she couldn’t beat Ancestor, wanting to find somewhere to have a good cry. Boohoohoo, how pitiful…”

“Shut up! Nonsense! I didn’t!” Lu Yibei blurted out. Opening her eyes, she saw the PL girl’s infuriatingly smug face and discovered that her head was resting on the woman’s thighs.

“Well? You’ve never had a lap pillow before, have you? Feels pretty nice, right?” the PL girl asked with a smile. “It’s free—a little reward for a loyal customer.”

“By the way, would you like to try a breast pillow?”

Lu Yibei: “…”

Absolutely not. I’ve already had enough of being meat on a chopping board…

Besides, I already resolved everything on my end perfectly!

Why did she even bother coming out?

Footnote:

• Jun(钧): The jun is a traditional Chinese unit of weight. “ten thousand jun” is an idiom for an immense burden.