Chapter 102: Evil Spirit Undying

The red moon above Linhe City was neither high enough nor bright enough, casting dim light that left large areas of earthen and wooden buildings in shadow.

As soon as Ning Changjiu and Ning Xiaoling escaped the bone prison, they immediately used the Daoist Concealment Art and hid among the shadows cast by the dense buildings. Weaving through streets and alleys, they finally stopped in the shadow of a white wall.

Ning Xiaoling leaned against the wall, panting, while Ning Changjiu seemed to be in better shape, though his white clothes were stained with bloodstains.

The alley was narrow and cold, with uncleaned piles of snow in many spots. Through some open windows, faint lights from lampshades could be seen, yet the houses, despite being lit, were eerily silent and devoid of human presence.

"What do we do now?" Ning Xiaoling asked her senior brother quietly, still shaken.

Ning Changjiu said, "Either we break the ritual constructing this ghost city, or we get out of the city as fast as possible."

Ning Xiaoling slumped, "It seems neither is possible..."

Ning Changjiu held his chest, calming his erratic breathing. He said, "The reversal of yin and yang takes time, and building a city of the dead is no easy task. As long as we're not discovered and can intervene at the most critical moment of the ritual, we might still have a chance."

Ning Xiaoling asked, "What is the most critical moment of the ritual?"

Ning Changjiu replied, "Before that blood moon becomes full."

A chill ran through Ning Xiaoling. She dared not look up to find the red moon, for if it truly was an eye, then simply seeing it would inevitably expose her to its gaze.

"What about now?"

"We're still not sure if she's pursued us. For now, we'll move around this residential area, but we must never leave the shadows of the buildings."

"Okay."

Madam Bai did not pursue them; she went directly to the Naihe Bridge.

In the time that had passed, the city's Yama, Judges, Soul-Ferrymen, Meng Po, and the Black and White Impermanence had all died, transforming into spirits, waiting only for the yin and yang to invert so they could assume their respective positions.

Beneath the pavilion, the gathered crowd behaved like restless beasts, whispering and speculating. Some secretly rushed home, others sought hidden places to hide, and some, under the heavy pressure of fear, stumbled and fell into the river.

Those who fell into the sandy water couldn't even scream before their flesh was instantly eroded, turning into stark white bones. Soon after, the bones too dissolved into the sandy water, completely devoured.

The sandy water, however, seemed unchanged, still flowing silently through the ancient city. Occasionally, fish would rise from the riverbed and leap out of the water; though only hollow skeletons, they were still strikingly lifelike.

As more people witnessed these anomalies, immense panic caused rumors to spread rapidly. They believed someone in the city had committed a sin, inviting disaster, and that the city would return to normal once those who offended the gods were dead. However, this was not the case; willows near the sandy water rapidly turned a deathly gray, as if completely incinerated by fire, ready to crumble into dissipating smoke with any strong gust of wind.

This was the Netherworld's energy, spreading from the city center throughout the entire city, from which nothing could escape.

A maiden in plain clothes hummed "Naihe, Naihe" by the river, swaying her body, which was as thin as firewood yet as lithe as a willow branch. She walked along the embankment to the sandy water's edge, leaning forward as if to jump in, but did not fall. Her body remained perpendicular to the bank, facing the water, reflecting her pale face. She then cupped a handful of water, drank it, and savored the endless aftertaste.

Soon after, the old city lord, who had transformed into a spirit after death, slowly arrived. He looked at the many spirits present, saying little, his face clearly showing exhaustion.

After a while, a scholar, still dressed in mourning attire and almost skin and bones, also came to the bridge.

The city lord glanced at him and asked, "You've been wearing that for three years; aren't you tired yet?"

The scholar held one hand clenched to his chest and the other behind his back, still clutching an ancient scroll even in death. He said with resolute expression, "When heaven and earth crumble, only scholars uphold integrity."

The city lord simply smiled faintly at his grand words, dismissing them.

Three years ago, during the military unrest, many died in Linhe City. The scholar, who had gone to the capital for imperial exams, returned home in destitution to find his parents, wife, and children all dead. From then on, he wore white sackcloth, neither eating nor drinking, and remained despondent all day. Though it was said he mourned, in reality, his heart had died.

He, too, ignored the city lord. In his mind, the city lord merely feigned concern for the country and its people, when in truth he only coveted immense power.

He looked at the old man playing the erhu and asked, "Is that you?"

The man playing the erhu simply nodded, paying him no further attention.

From now on, they would serve as the Black and White Impermanence in the city.

The courtesan remained indifferent to their conversation. She continuously plucked invisible strings, playing a melodious and sorrowful tune, while the abundant snow falling from the sky seemed like paper money, bidding farewell to those who would never return.

Only when a young woman in a green dress and white gauze shawl appeared above the arched bridge did the courtesan stop her actions. She bowed, and with a mournful tone, called out, "Madam Bai."

Madam Bai looked at them, a smile no longer on her face. Endless night enveloped her, congealing in her already long hair. Her dark, flowing locks drifted in vast swathes, as if the entire night sky were merely the ends of her hair swaying in the wind.

Beneath Madam Bai, white bones protruded from her green skirt, countless tiny skulls accumulating to form a towering throne. Madam Bai sat high on this bone throne, her body leaning, her long, pale legs crossed beneath her dress. Her arm rested on a skull armrest, her hand a loose fist supporting her cheek. Her crimson lips were slightly parted, and with each breath, Netherworld energy emerged like frost.

"Where are the Ox-Head and Horse-Face?" a skull on the throne behind Madam Bai asked.

The city lord stepped forward and respectfully replied, "The butcher has already gone."

Madam Bai nodded gently, and the skull's jaw clacked as it said, "No need to rush. Just slaughter them and bring them back at midnight."

The city lord then asked, "Now we each have our duties, but after midnight, everyone will die. In the future, there will be no living people in the city. Whose lives will we judge, and whose souls will we try?"

Madam Bai tapped her fingers lightly on the armrest and said languidly, "Are there not still many living people in this world?"

The city lord's body trembled. He tentatively asked, "Will they also come here after they die?"

Madam Bai's voice was cold and full of majesty. She said, "In the future, this place will be far more than just an immortal city confined to itself. Whether it's Jin, Zhao, or even the more distant Rong, all these nations, great and small, in Southern Continent will bow before this place."

The city lord had always deeply believed Madam Bai's words, and at this moment, his heart was even more stirred.

The other two women remained calm, seemingly unaffected, as if these grand ambitions had nothing to do with them. If not for Madam Bai being the only one in the city capable of truly killing them, they would have continued singing, dancing, and playing their instruments.

With her other hand, Madam Bai toyed with the green sand jar, her gaze shifting between gentle and icy.

She looked at the chaotic crowd, who still had no idea what was happening, and let out a soft sigh.

Then, as if the curtain of the Netherworld was slowly being drawn back, people looked up and saw the skull throne made of bones in the sky, and the incomparably beautiful woman seated upon it. Shock and chaos truly began at that moment.

By the sandy water, the several copper paintings also lit up, their images becoming truly three-dimensional. Countless intricate, flowing lines outlined the figures within the paintings. Between the bridge piers, the three-dimensionally expanded images connected, forming an entire, exquisitely complex mural.

At the end of this mural was the solitary figure of Madam Bai, seated on her throne.

Her gaze swept over the grand mural, and she murmured, "What beautiful copper paintings."

It was a pity, she thought, that the old man who painted these copper pictures should now be waiting for death.

When she crushed the green porcelain bottle, the old man was only moments from death.

"What a shame, old woman, you died too soon..." Madam Bai sighed softly.

In the original plan, the "Sister Bai" mentioned by Shuba, the old man who painted with white copper, and the old woman living across the street from Ning Qinshui, were all supposed to be killed by Ning Qinshui himself.

The maiden, the old man, and the old woman were all formed from fragments of Madam Bai's bones.

The only difference was that the maiden was her true self, while the other two were merely shapes pieced together from bone fragments.

Many years ago, she had died once in each of these three forms, nearly perishing soul and spirit.

That was her most unforgettable memory.

She had always suspected that one of the gods had killed her back then.

Therefore, she chose Ning Qinshui to repeat that process on this special day, hoping to simulate an ethereal karmic thread that would correspond with what happened back then. If that person truly was a god, she could follow the similar karmic thread to ascend and steal a wisp of their divine essence using the authority of the Nether Lord.

Unfortunately, Ning Qinshui had died suddenly in the imperial city due to an unexpected letter, forcing her to take a risk and retrieve his soul, which she then nurtured in the green porcelain bottle.

Just two days prior, Ning Qinshui's two disciples had unexpectedly returned home. When smoke rose from the chimney of the old residence, the old woman, acting on her pre-programmed perception, knocked on their door, causing another deviation in the plan.

She only hoped this wouldn't affect the overall scheme.

After killing the old man who painted with white copper, Ning Qinshui was supposed to seek out his disciples.

She had no worries about Ning Qinshui's safety, for in this city, malevolent spirits were immortal!

When Shuba returned home, he pushed open the door to find many lamps lit inside, illuminating the room brightly. Yet, he stood rooted to the spot, as if all the light had turned black.

In the lounge chair, his master's figure was gone, replaced by a segment of withered bones. The skeleton looked as if it had been dead for a very long time, buried deep in yellow earth for countless years. It was so ancient, scarred with cracks, as if it had once been shattered into countless pieces and then painstakingly reassembled.

Around him lay many discarded copper paintings from years past.

Yet, the material of these paintings was not white copper at all; now, they clearly appeared to be pieces of pristine white bone.

Shuba's heart crawled with dread. Fear and sorrow erupted simultaneously within him. He dazedly walked to the lounge chair, rubbed his eyes, and slowly knelt down. His fingers brushed against the shriveled hand bones, then clutched them tightly.

In fact, when he had carried the box of copper paintings out the door, he had already faintly sensed his master's impending death. But when he actually saw the skeleton suddenly appear, his heart still tightened uncontrollably, and his body curled up with it.

Sister Bai was dead, and now his master was dead too.

Sister Bai had been killed by that wicked Daoist, so he knew where to seek revenge. But his master? Who had killed him?

He knelt by the lounge chair for a long time, then unhooked a cleaver from the wall in the corner, gripped it, and walked out.

He looked up and saw that the moon had turned red, as if it were staring directly at him, alive.

He looked at the empty streets on both sides; everything seemed veiled in a gray mist, leaving him disoriented.

Suddenly, Shuba turned around, alert.

Behind him, a graceful maid bowed deeply and said in a melodious voice, "Young Master Shuba, Madam requests your presence."

Shuba brought the cleaver to his waist, instinctively hunching slightly. He asked, "Madam? Which madam?"

The maid smiled faintly, "You'll know when you see her."

Shuba asked, "What exactly is happening in this city?"

The maid replied, "You'll know everything once you meet Madam. Madam... misses you very much."

Shuba suddenly felt a shiver of dread. After a moment's hesitation, he abruptly turned and sprinted towards the other end of the long street. The maid made no move to stop him, merely casting an indifferent glance, as if watching a young beast bouncing around in an iron cage.

The same white wall, its carvings still new, and the peeling paint unchanged in the slightest.

This was the third time Ning Changjiu and Ning Xiaoling had seen this wall.

When Ning Changjiu saw this wall for the second time, he was sure he had fallen into a "ghost wall" illusion. However, after probing with his divine sense, he found no obvious abnormalities, only that this desolate neighborhood now had many more dead ends.

They were currently concealed here using the Daoist Concealment Art, but even if undetected for now, it was tantamount to waiting for death. If they were to draw their swords and force their way through the illusion, Madam Bai would instantly pinpoint their location.

They were caught between a rock and a hard place.

Ning Changjiu looked at the white wall and said, "Let's climb over and see."

Ning Xiaoling pointed to the sky, saying, "We'll be seen."

Ning Changjiu sighed, "We might have been seen a long time ago."

Ning Xiaoling didn't understand. She wondered why, if they had been discovered earlier, they hadn't been immediately pursued. Or was it because Madam Bai had something more important to do?

Still, continuing to wander aimlessly here would be futile.

As she pondered, Ning Changjiu had already made up his mind. He took Ning Xiaoling's hand and they climbed over the wall.

Behind the wall was soft earth.

"Senior brother, this..." Ning Xiaoling's eyes widened, thinking she was mistaken. After a moment, she carefully examined her familiar surroundings.

Ning Xiaoling's body stiffened, and she frowned, "How can this be?"

Behind this white wall was their old residence!

What was going on?

She had clearly run very far.

Then, a thought suddenly struck Ning Xiaoling: in the center of the courtyard, a shadowed figure in a Daoist robe faintly stood. After their arrival, the shadow sensed movement and slowly turned around.

Ning Xiaoling stared at the figure slowly turning its head.

Suddenly, her eyes widened. A chill shot up her spine and exploded on her scalp. Her hands and feet turned icy cold, her heart seemed to stop, and the entire world hummed, devoid of any sound.

Before her was the greatest nightmare of her life.

It was the soul of Ning Qinshui, who should have been utterly destroyed long ago.

He looked at the young man and woman, a smirk playing on his lips, "My dear disciples, why are two bags of money missing from the house?"