Yin Ci felt a wave of dizziness.
In his sight, the ground rose up, the ceiling pressed down, and walls squeezed in from all directions. Boundless fear seeped out from deep within his memory. His hair stood on end, and his blood froze. All senses were momentarily obscured, leaving only the heavy scent of blood in his mouth and nose.
The flickering flames gradually receded, and everything twisted into darkness. Just like back then…
“Not a bad move.” Yin Ci raised his eyes.
Even though Lu Fengxi had wandered the world for decades, taking countless lives, when he saw those eyes, he couldn’t help but shudder.
His opponent not only didn’t fall, but his killing intent had intensified. Those eyes—no longer the eyes of an evil spirit; at least an evil spirit was once human. The entity standing across from him now resembled a pure creature born in darkness.
Lu Fengxi widened his eyes in horror as he looked at his opponent. He wanted to say something, but he realized he had lost his lips, tongue, and teeth.
That person stood amidst a splatter of blood with a cold and resolute face filled with malice and eyes emptier than the sacrificial pit. His icy gaze passed through Lu Fengxi and lingered in the void.
In the next moment, Elder Lu couldn’t see anything.
……
Yin Ci slapped himself in the pool of blood, regaining some clarity. Unfortunately, it was too late—Lu Fengxi had been completely torn to shreds, and it would be difficult to even throw him into the sacrificial pit, let alone bury him.
Fortunately, he retained a shred of sanity, keeping in mind Shi Jingzhi’s fox nose, so he didn’t splatter too much blood on himself.
“Sound of Terror—the name is quite apt.”
Using the technique of sound to provoke fear in people, he had never seen such a fresh move. It seemed that during his absence from the martial world, the Ling Sect had come up with some strange things.
Yin Ci picked up the staff from the flesh and blood, finally understanding its material—it was pieced together with human bones. Judging by its softness and hardness, it was likely made from processed children’s bones.
The Ling Sect remained the same over the centuries.
Yin Ci sneered, dismantling the lantern. After spending some time, he crushed the staff into pieces and carefully burned it to ashes.
Then, he picked up the three Ling Sect disciples and pulled out a knife. One by one, he threw them into the sacrificial pit, causing the stone pillar to rumble and descend a large section.
Only two people’s weight remained.
Yin Ci approached the unconscious monk from Jianchen Temple and adjusted the monk into a more natural lying position. He also checked the dryness of the ghostskin robe and hung it in a more ventilated area.
After completing all of this, Yin Ci sat on the edge of the sacrificial pit, gazing into the bottomless pit. He contemplated for a while, folding up the hem of his white robe, revealing his bare legs. The pale skin brushed against the rough edge of the stone, leaving behind faint red marks.
In a flash of cold light, his hand rose, and the knife fell.
Yin Ci severed his left leg, which plunged into the deep pit. Before long, something resembling blood-soaked tree roots emerged from the severed area. They coiled together, tightly wrapping around each other, forming new bone and flesh until a new left leg was regenerated.
Yin Ci remained expressionless, raising his hand for another slash. His newly regenerated left leg was once again severed, and a large amount of fresh blood sprayed along the edge of the pit. Flesh and blood tumbled and rolled, creating a disturbing muffled sound as they hit the stone walls.
This repetition occurred over a dozen times until, finally, the stone pillar began to tremble and descended completely.
Everything was ready. Next, all Yin Ci needed to do was put on the ghostskin robe, bring the monk out, and weave a convincing lie—they had encountered a powerful individual with an unknown identity. This person had knocked out the monk and himself, somehow caused the stone pillar to descend, and then disappeared without a trace.
The monk was hit by a palm strike that caused confusion and blurred memories. At most, he could vaguely recall the general situation but couldn’t provide many details.
But before that, Yin Ci had to quickly retrieve the treasure at the top of the pillar.
Yin Ci leaped onto the stone pillar and, as expected, found a Buddhist bead on the top. However, there was a strange dust around the bead, as if something had been placed there for a while and then swapped out with the Buddhist bead.
Considering that there weren’t many monsters in the Ascension Hall, the eerie conditions of the Ghost Tomb became even more peculiar.
…He didn’t know if his cheap master would survive this ordeal.
A short while ago, in another chamber.
Shi Jingzhi’s hand slapped against the stone surface with a crisp and resounding sound. He groaned and moaned for a while before breaking free from the effects of the anesthetic. When the fire ignited, he was still sitting on the ground, rubbing his legs.
The flag “Medicine Cures Illness” was too long, so a section was poked out from the liquid sphere, which was dissolved by the lake water, leaving behind only “Cures Illness”. Shi Jingzhi stood up, leaning on the flagpole, and took a few deep breaths with a pained expression.
In the center of the room stood a stone pillar inscribed with “Suffering From Parting”, which he recognized. A few steps away, the people from the Rong Palace stood quietly. The sedan chair had returned to its original state.
In addition to the person inside the sedan and the four skilled guards from the Rong Palace, two solitary individuals had regained consciousness and were looking around.
Including himself, there were a total of eight people in the room. The “Suffering From Parting” required the weight of about five people, if they included…
Before he could finish his thoughts, the guards from the Rong Palace suddenly pounced, throwing the two solitary individuals into the sacrificial pit. After a moment of silence, sounds of agonizing screams, unlike human voices, emanated from below the sacrificial pit.
The stone pillar trembled and descended a notch.
The four guards turned around and looked at Shi Jingzhi, preparing to take action—
“Hold on, let me have a word with him first.” Finally, the person inside the sedan spoke. From the sound of his voice, it was a young man.
He lifted the curtain with a folding fan and walked out, revealing his face. His features were quite handsome, making him resemble a charming young man.
Tapping his palm with the folding fan, he sarcastically remarked, “What’s this? Changed to another wooden mask again?”
“Every time I come across a market, I buy one as a souvenir.” Shi Jingzhi readily took off the Nuo mask.
The person inside the sedan was above average in appearance, but compared to Shi Jingzhi, he instantly became a supporting character, like a green leaf next to a blooming red flower, especially one with spots.
Seemingly aware of this, the person unfolded the folding fan, covering almost half of his face. On the fan, the word “Tranquility*” was written in skilled calligraphy, indicating the work of a renowned calligrapher.
*In terms of being calm and composed.
He stared at Shi Jingzhi for a moment. “Do you have anything else to say?”
“Yes,” Shi Jingzhi said with a grin. “Since you dared to come in person, that sedan must be quite valuable, right? I’ve been short on money lately. Can I borrow some…”
“Nonsense.” The person displayed a hint of anger. “I’m asking you, since you’re about to die here. Do you have anything else to say?”
Shi Jingzhi sighed. “You’ve been following me since the Paper Figure Street, and you’re still so impatient.”
“If you hadn’t been lucky enough to accompany Shi Zhongyu and coincidentally travel together, you wouldn’t have even made it into the Ascension Hall,” the man sneered.
“We’re already talking about the Ascension Hall? Haven’t you noticed that something is off?”
“What do you mean?”
“The Ascension Hall… No, the Ghost Tomb is too mild. It’s not Yan Budu’s style.”
The person looked at the stone pillar in silence. “You call this ‘mild’?”
“The first level is originally not difficult, so it retains a relatively intact design. As for the second level, the Ascension Hall is too spacious. If they only wanted to set up the Corpse Explosion Bone Curse and the sinking liquid spheres, there would be no need to build such a finely crafted maze.”
The man furrowed his brow. “…Continue.”
“Most importantly, the Corpse Explosion Bone Curse can reduce the number of people, and so can the “Suffering From Parting”. There’s only a layer of liquid mass in between, lacking a sense of aesthetics.”
Shi Jingzhi sat down on the ground, resting his chin on his hand. “The leader of the Ling Sect considers the tomb a sacred place. Even if he wants to design a trap for conflicts, this is completely turning things upside down—the Ghost Tomb should be filled with slaughter mechanisms rather than an ambiguous guiding game.”
The man in the sedan chair: “…This is the first time I’ve heard someone complain about a lack of mechanisms.”
“If it were up to me, I would hide a large number of monsters and spells in the maze, dispersing the intruders and slowly killing them. When the survivors are reduced to a fixed number, then the heavens and earth would be overturned, and the liquid sphere would appear randomly, purely as a matter of luck.”
“Each room would be paired with two people, adjusting the weight requirement of the ‘Suffering From Parting’ to about one and a half persons. If they wanted to escape, they would definitely have to leave behind some limbs. Once the first person exits a room, all the other rooms would be sealed—only the final survivor would be allowed to enter the third level. Empty-handed and most likely missing limbs, they would have no choice but to die in despair at the destination.”
Having finished, Shi Jingzhi smiled even brighter. “Isn’t this more like a ‘Ghost Tomb’?”
The person inside the sedan sneered. “Whether it resembles a ghost tomb or not, I’m quite clear that you and that Yan person are of the same kind.”
“Don’t be impatient. I haven’t finished yet.” Shi Jingzhi raised his hand to signal.
With disheveled clothing and casual movements and a pair of phoenix-like eyes filled with a playful smile, he resembled a legendary evil immortal from folklore. Unlike before, the gentle aura that surrounded Shi Jingzhi dissipated completely, leaving only an imposing pressure.
“Yan Budu, a man of the times, is not more naive than me. I dare to guess that Yan Budu placed the Buddhist beads in the Ghost Tomb after its construction. To ensure that enough masters survived, he exterminated the monsters in the Ascension Hall and altered all the rules of the arts. This ensures that people can fight over the Buddhist beads without the entire force being wiped out.”
Feeling the strong momentum from the opposite side, the person inside the sedan became somewhat impatient. “So what? Ultimately, he wants the Buddhist beads to flow out of the Ghost Tomb and cause chaos?”
“That’s right, he used the Ghost Tomb as a stepping stone—meaning that the tomb is no longer important to him.”
The man abruptly held his breath. “Are you saying…”
“Yan Budu isn’t in the tomb. Assuming the Shirou truly exists, the Buddhist beads are highly likely to be a clue.”
Shi Jingzhi extended his index finger and tapped his lower lip.
“My Buddhist bead is not on me. I can guarantee that if I die, you will never obtain it.”
“To acquire information about the Ghost Tomb, you must have spent quite a sum of money on the demonic sects. Why? Are you planning to collect the Buddhist beads personally to please Eldest Brother*? …Can you even gift something that’s not a complete set?”
*[Dage] (大哥).
“Insolent! You dare call him ‘Eldest Brother’?” The man’s face turned pale.
“We are blood relatives. Why can’t I call him that? If I call him that to his face, he has to respond.”
Shi Jingzhi said casually.
“It’s strange. Clearly, it’s you who don’t know etiquette. After all, I am your older brother, Xiao Qi1. Oh, you prefer a more serious title… How about calling me ‘gege2‘ and see how it sounds, Your Royal Highness of Rong?”
1Little Seven. This indicates most likely he’s the 7th son in the family hierarchy.
2Older brother (哥哥). || Note: [Gege] is often a more informal way to address someone than [xiong] (兄), which is often considered a more formal and respectful term (compared to gege). In this context, considering his status (and apparently his disdain for Shi Jingzhi), for Xiao Qi to address him as [xiong] (more respectfully), it would be kind of like a slap in the face. Though I doubt he would want to call him [gege] either.
The person in the sedan—Prince Xu Jingming of Rong*, from the Rong Imperial Palace—choked hard, and his gaze was mixed with vigilance and disgust, without a hint of appreciation.
*Clarity: Xu Jingming is his name, while Rong is more like his title (most likely bestowed on him by the emperor).
Shi Jingzhi ignored his attitude and smiled at him.
Xu Jingming took two steps back on the spot, and a familiar memory flooded into his mind once again.
At that time, he was still young and shouldn’t have remembered much. But the day he first met this “older brother*”, Xu Jingming remembered it very clearly.
*[Xiong zhang] (兄长). Also a term for older brother, but carries more respect than just [Xiong] (兄).
On that day, the crown prince* led him, standing far away outside the garden. Inside the garden, Shi Jingzhi sat in the pavilion, gazing at the lake absentmindedly. After a while, as if sensing their presence, Shi Jingzhi turned his head, his face showing an inexplicable calmness that didn’t match a child’s.
*[Taizi] (太子).
Back then, Shi Jingzhi wasn’t much older, and his face was surprisingly delicate—so delicate that it didn’t seem real. At first glance, he stood out from his surroundings, as if he had been stripped away.
“Ge…ge…?” The young Xu Jingming pointed to the pavilion.
“Jingming, he’s not your ‘gege’.”
The crown prince lowered his head and calmly responded.
“He’s a monster.”
The author has something to say:
Shi Jingzhi: I’ll take off a layer of disguise here.
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