Chapter 98: Porcelain Servant

Shù Bái was not a timid person, but as he watched the large red lantern change color, and as its pale light filled his eyes, he couldn't help but cry out in alarm.

Shù Bái rubbed his eyes, confirming he hadn't imagined it. Unable to suppress the growing fear in his heart, he rose and fled. To his even greater horror, he noticed that with every room he passed, the lanterns, originally red, turned snow-white. The faster he ran, the quicker the lanterns changed.

Shù Bái stopped dead in his tracks, not daring to move.

Not far away stood the large bridge, still bustling with pedestrians, among whom were also soldiers. They weren't there to investigate the singer's fatal fall, but rather hurrying to the other side of the sandy river—apparently, an important figure had just died there.

Then, Shù Bái's gaze fell upon another sight. At one end of the long bridge, a maiden in plain white danced gracefully. Her figure was so slender that, from a distance, she resembled a tattered cloth swirling in the cold wind.

Beside the maiden, a blindfolded man played the erhu, while a graceful singer plucked the guzheng.

And the people passing by paid no attention to the scene.

Only he could see this…

This thought slowly crept into his heart. He turned his head slightly, staring at the white lanterns, and an absurd idea flashed through his mind. Just then, an elderly woman carrying a basket walked past him. He paused, then bravely opened his mouth, his voice hoarse, and called out, "Ma'am... Ma'am..."

The middle-aged woman with the basket stopped, turned, and seeing the young boy, asked, "What is it, child? Are you lost? Do you want me to take you home?"

As she spoke, the plump middle-aged woman even gave him a flirtatious look. Ordinarily, he would have felt a surge of revulsion, but at that moment, he was overjoyed. He quickly said he was fine, then lowered his head and ran forward.

Thankfully... he was still alive.

Hmm... what if that old woman was a ghost too?

Shù Bái slapped his head, quickly dismissing the thought.

As he passed the large arched bridge, he pretended to be calm, walking past the performing ghosts on the bridge as if unaware of their presence.

Everything seemed relatively normal.

But the maiden in plain white glanced at him. Due to years of carrying bronze paintings for his master, Shù Bái unconsciously stooped, and his gaunt bones were starkly visible through his somewhat thin clothing.

At the old woman's doorstep, the lanterns had turned from red to white, and a ghastly pale light emanated from the bamboo-woven lantern frames piled inside her house. The light struggled within the lanterns, like fish with white bellies flipping and thrashing in a bamboo basket.

Inside the house, everything had been turned upside down in an instant.

The old woman clutched her head, painfully recalling something. Then she began to peel her scalp away from the crown of her head, her fingers sinking into flesh and bone, tearing. It was as if all flesh and blood were a burden, a lock to be shed. Her hands clawed and scratched at skin and blood, and in an instant, the crown of her head was a terrifying sight of torn flesh and gaping wounds.

Níng Chángjiǔ did not stop her, because he knew that this old woman had never truly been alive from the very beginning.

She had appeared as an aged old woman, with a fabricated memory, an imagined grandson, and a perceived enemy who had killed her grandson. Her life, from the start, was that of a person already fading away.

Níng Chángjiǔ knew this old woman was not the true form of the demon behind it all. He didn't want to waste any more time, so he burst out the door.

But the moment he considered retreating, the maddened old woman stopped tearing at herself. She lifted her head, her barely visible eyes streaming with blood, and in her blood-stained pupils, a faint white light glowed.

She stretched out her hands and lunged at Níng Chángjiǔ.

Her figure became incredibly fast, like a rapidly swirling cloth enveloping him, aiming straight for Níng Chángjiǔ's head.

Níng Chángjiǔ spun, his feet rooted to the ground. While the old woman, now transformed into a corpse demon, was still mid-air, he swung his arm, and a streak of sword energy sliced out.

With a tearing sound, the sword energy entered her body. The old woman's flesh and blood seemed no longer to be mere flesh and blood; instead, they made a sound like a saw cutting through leather.

Beyond the ruptured flesh, stark white bones were now visible.

Yet, such severe injuries did not slow her down in the slightest. She still crashed down like a lifeless, pain-immune bone covered in viscous blood.

Níng Chángjiǔ hastily dodged. After landing, the corpse demon barely paused, supporting herself with her hands, and hopped like a frog, pursuing him. Níng Chángjiǔ formed two sword incantations, one horizontal, one vertical, blocking behind him. He didn't want a prolonged fight; he only wanted to retreat quickly.

The corpse demon collided with his two streaks of sword energy, her flesh and blood instantly disintegrating upon contact. But within moments, the sword energy seemed to encounter an impenetrable hardness and was instantly crushed. With no obstruction, the corpse demon's speed increased dramatically, reaching Níng Chángjiǔ's back in a mere instant. She raised both hands high, bringing them down like two cleavers onto his back.

Níng Chángjiǔ turned his head, staring at her descending palms. While swiftly retreating, his fingers cut cleanly across.

Though the corpse demon's bones were incredibly hard, the joints connecting them were quite fragile. The sword energy cut precisely through the connections between the hand bones, severing her hands at the wrists.

The pain that should have been bone-deep did not affect the corpse demon in the slightest. Not a single drop of blood seeped from her severed wrists. Her entire body still crashed towards him like a heavy sandbag.

With a dull thud, Níng Chángjiǔ crossed his arms over his chest, but was directly sent reeling backward by the corpse demon, breaking through the door and falling outside.

Inside the house, snow-white lanterns floated into existence, gathering around the corpse demon. At this moment, the old woman no longer resembled a human in the slightest; her entire body of white bones pierced through her skin like thorns on a briar vine, growing eerily.

Níng Chángjiǔ merely swayed slightly before regaining his balance. The corpse demon, accompanied by the pale lanterns, charged at him again. Gusts of sinister wind, like blades, instantly tore the door apart.

Níng Chángjiǔ watched the charging corpse demon and did not retreat a single step. He remained motionless, his gaze growing colder.

As the corpse demon charged, he charged forward as well.

Níng Chángjiǔ swung his sleeve, and a flash of snow-white blade light glinted from within.

But it was not a sword; it was a knife.

It was the boning knife taken from Níng Qínshuǐ's residence. He had anticipated a fierce battle in the city and had not brought his ceremonial sword precisely to appear weaker to the enemy, but he was certainly not without weapons for self-defense.

The knife was merely an ordinary item, not inherently sharp, but the spiritual energy instantly imbued into it, like venom, gave it an almost unstoppable sharp glow. That glow, combined with the blade, instantly sliced through the opponent's body. Then Níng Chángjiǔ ducked, and the corpse demon's pincer-like arms struck empty air. Níng Chángjiǔ seized the opportunity to circle around to her side and back, and the blade, following his body's movements, furiously tore through her flesh, scraping against her bones.

The grating sound of breaking and crushing bones rang out.

The corpse demon finally let out a muffled shriek, reaching her arms back, trying to grab this damned living person. But Níng Chángjiǔ's blade suddenly flared with fire.

That was sword fire.

Once the sword fire ignited, the corpse demon's flesh and blood melted away rapidly like snow under a blazing sun, quickly revealing the white bones beneath.

Níng Chángjiǔ held his breath, his eyes unblinking the entire time. His divine sense, like a thread, plunged into her body, pinpointing the location of a certain bone. Then, before the corpse demon could clamp down on him with her hands, he maneuvered the blade around the thorny, protruding bones, plunging it directly into a specific spot.

The sword fire exploded with a roar, and the scream, like the death wail of a dying centipede, was consumed by the sword fire before it could even echo through the long street.

After that one thrust, he twisted the blade violently, and when it emerged, it had a constantly wriggling piece of cartilage impaled on it. The cartilage was like a living creature, struggling ceaselessly on the blade's tip.

Having lost this bone, the corpse demon calmed down. She collapsed to the ground, trembled for a few moments, then lost all signs of life.

Níng Chángjiǔ looked at the bone impaled on the blade's tip, judging it to be a fragment of a bone demon. This bone was extraordinary; even a fragment could transform into a complete human form. And this old woman was definitely not a self-mutated bone fragment, because her memories were fake, deliberately rewritten by someone. So, who was that person, and were they secretly watching him?

On the continuous rooftops, atop a tall building, the vanished figure in black reappeared. She removed her dark robe, revealing her true appearance under the moonlight.

She was a young maiden of stunning beauty and delicate features. Her eyes and brows were light and elegant. She extended her slender hands, one palm facing up, holding a small green porcelain bottle, and the other palm facing down, with bent fingers, holding a blue sand jar. She stood gracefully atop the building, her elegant eyebrows and starlike eyes seemingly drawn with an ink brush. At this moment, her gaze slowly swept across the rooftops of countless pavilions, evoking a sense of desolation, as if standing alone amidst the frost and snow.

Her toes touched the ground, lightly stepping on the snow-covered blue tiles, yet leaving not a single footprint.

Her gaze suddenly fell in a certain direction, then she smiled, "How interesting."

With a flick of her finger, she recalled the spiritual essence she had bestowed upon the old woman's bone, then she chuckled, "She could guess that the old woman was a ghost, but she didn't think to throw away that jade pendant? Heh, I guess she isn't as clever as I thought."

As she spoke and chuckled, her expression grew colder by the moment.

She suddenly closed her eyes and whispered, "I want to see how much courage this body of yours truly possesses."

Beside the corpse demon's white bones, the evil spirit attached to the parasitic cartilage had been completely incinerated by Níng Chángjiǔ.

The woman on the tall building closed her eyes, her consciousness flowing.

The jade pendant glowed.

The pendant was originally a surviving ornament of the former Underworld Lord, and everything related to the Underworld Lord could be used by the supreme Lord of the Underworld to connect all things. As long as the controller behind it subtly moved their consciousness, they could instantly occupy the other party's body using the pendant as a medium.

The young maiden's lips curved into a slight smile.

This white-clothed youth certainly had some abilities, likely from a prominent immortal sect, and his aura even felt somewhat familiar. But ultimately, he was a newcomer and hadn't been cautious enough against the dangers of the world.

The young maiden's consciousness stirred, and she separated a wisp of her divine soul, which, passing through the pendant, invaded.

Soon, that wisp of divine soul sensed a human form, penetrated it instantly, and occupied it with almost no hindrance.

Hmph, this was too easy; and I thought she was so formidable...

After that wisp of divine soul firmly occupied this human body, the woman opened her eyes.

However, what she saw before her was not the scene in front of the old woman's door.

Could the youth have given the pendant to someone else? But that doesn't matter; I'll just...

Her thoughts suddenly froze. She found herself unable to move, and the alarm in her heart forced her to examine herself with her mind's eye. Then she was stunned.

She found that she was currently wearing a water-green dress, with extremely jarring and ugly blush on her face, and her figure was... no! She wasn't a living person at all, but a dancing girl porcelain doll!