Chapter 99: Where Do Humans and Ghosts Meet

This half-human-sized ceramic dancer figurine had been displayed for over ten years in an antique shop on the main street. It had several unsightly cracks and was rumored to be an artifact from the Jin Dynasty, two hundred years old, but no one believed it.

Recently, this antique was bought by a gullible person, who took it home to ward off evil.

Before the woman possessed the other's body, she had sensed it was a human form. Therefore, she invaded it without hesitation, thinking that even if the boy were vigilant and secretly placed the jade pendant on a corpse, it wouldn't matter; she could still control the corpse, find him, and kill him.

Only now did she realize that the human form she had sensed was this incredibly ugly ceramic figurine!

Fury ignited instantly. She wanted to immediately detach herself from the ceramic figurine, but couldn't do so at once. Then, an even more chilling scene unfolded before her.

She perceived a young girl standing behind her.

She knew this girl. Both the girl and her, in the past, were disciples of Ning Qingshui and were born into the same sect. Ordinarily, she could have easily crushed such a young, inexperienced girl, yet now she felt fear and unease.

This was because the girl stood behind her, dragging a large iron hammer and staring intently at her.

This was clearly her senior brother's preparation.

She immediately realized she had made another fatal mistake: as she tried to break free from the ceramic, her body moved, causing the figurine to move as well.

Seeing the ceramic figurine move unnaturally, Ning Xiaoling's petite body instantly tensed. Her expression sharpened. Thinking, "Senior brother didn't lie to me after all," she plucked up her courage and, mimicking the storytellers, majestically shouted, "Demon, take this!"

Then, without hesitation, she lifted the hammer and brought it down.

With a loud clang, the seemingly fragile ceramic figurine only cracked; it didn't shatter instantly.

Ning Xiaoling was startled. Knowing the strength of her own blow, she hadn't expected the figurine to remain unbroken. Could it truly be an ancient artifact from the Jin Dynasty? It seemed her senior brother had good taste, but what a shame for this antique... She wondered how much silver it had cost.

Pondering this, Xiaoling felt a surge of sadness. With her next swing, she brought the iron hammer down with all her might.

The ceramic figurine tried to dodge, but its body was utterly incapable of flexible movement.

A crisp sound echoed through the entire room as the ceramic figurine shattered, its red and green fragments scattering across the floor in a striking, messy display.

High above, in a tall building, the young woman suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood. Her body swayed twice. She pressed slender fingers to her red lips, wiping away the bloodstain from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes no longer held any trace of amusement, only an unyielding, vengeful malevolence.

Half of this malevolence stemmed from the boy's damnable scheming, and the other half from the young girl's shout, "Demon, take this!"

Both the senior brother and junior sister... deserved to be torn into a thousand pieces!

The city gates had closed early.

At this moment, the courtesan who had been the most popular singer at Feihua Brothel for half a year, and who was poised for her debut, suddenly jumped to her death on the day of her initiation. Even the highly esteemed Lord of the City, revered by the populace, had ended his own life by jumping into the river.

A few merchants and scholars who had been hesitating by the riverside, initially contemplating whether to dare approach and speak with the Lord of the City, recalled rumors that he had been an iron-blooded "King of Hell" in his youth. Even in his old age, he disliked being disturbed, often appearing unapproachable even during his daily strolls.

But in their hesitation, they witnessed such earth-shattering events.

At first, the singer's fall from the building had only shocked and saddened them; now, the old man's leap into the river left them utterly stunned.

And who was that white-robed young man who had flashed by earlier... Had they simply imagined him?

An unsettling atmosphere had just begun to erupt among the common people, but in places they could not see, undercurrents had already surged into a vortex, on the verge of unleashing monstrous waves.

Many panicked and rushed towards their homes, unaware that from their perspective, the large red lanterns at their doors had turned pale, and behind every door, something unknown awaited them.

Of course, for most people, these were fears that had not yet materialized; what was about to happen next would be the true blade to cleave open the fear in their hearts.

At this moment, on the still relatively quiet long street, the old woman's flesh and blood had rapidly decayed, turning her into a skeleton.

Ning Changjiu did not search the skeleton for clues.

Just now, the spiritual essence he had attached to the ceramic figurine shattered. He knew that the demon manipulating everything behind the scenes must have also sustained some injuries.

That demon was perfectly integrated with this city; even he couldn't pinpoint its location. However, with its soul significantly damaged, it was bound to reveal a flaw that would be difficult to mend quickly. This vulnerability might either provoke the demon to reveal its true ferocity and attack directly, or it might embolden it to calmly proceed with its plan.

Ning Changjiu hoped for the former, but this quiet long street seemed to subtly portend the answer.

Over the past two days, Ning Changjiu had deduced many things, but the city before him still displayed unexpected changes. He could feel that the city's *yang* energy was like a rapidly setting sun; once yin and yang were completely inverted, everyone in the city would unknowingly perish.

Those who had committed suicide early clearly knew this beforehand. He wondered what promises the ghost behind the scenes had given them for them to end their lives so decisively, willing to become ghosts condemned to eternal darkness.

Ning Changjiu closed his eyes. Many recent events in the city connected in his mind: the river flowing through the city, Shubei's stealthy assassination attempts, the dancing girl by the bridge, the fallen courtesan, the city lord who jumped into the river, the old woman who had repeatedly plotted against him before turning into a corpse demon...

These fragments of thought gathered and pieced together like a storm in his mind.

Finally, the tune hummed by the little girl echoed persistently in his mind.

"Reeds turn to snow for years, beauty fades, sighing 'alas'... alas."

Alas, alas!

According to legend, after death, people journey to the underworld, and on that inescapable path lies a bridge spanning the divide between life and death: the Bridge of No Return.

The gurgling river flowing beneath that bridge is the Yellow Springs.

His initial conjectures were built upon, taking on a complete form.

He constructed the outline of the plan in his mind: the great ghost, lurking in the shadows, had laid out its scheme for years, setting all the crucial nodes, intending to refine this entire city into a complete, living Underworld Capital!

If everything about to happen truly aligned with his predictions, then that great ghost, even if its cultivation level wasn't exceptionally high, must certainly possess a portion of the authority over the Underworld.

Legends said that the first Underworld Lord had died a millennium ago, and the King of Hell's authority had fragmented. Perhaps this great ghost had obtained one such fragment, thus now possessing the terrifying power to refine an entire city.

If his predictions were accurate, then his immediate concern should be how to escape this city...

But it was too late. The moment this thought flashed through his mind, Ning Changjiu immediately sensed something. He looked up and saw a crescent of crimson, waning moon hanging in the sky.

That red moon was not a real moon, but a crescent formed from the condensed netherworld aura of the entire city.

Within just a few hours, the netherworld energy in this city had risen to an incredibly dense level.

"Senior Brother!"

Across the street, Ning Xiaoling pushed open a door and waved towards Ning Changjiu's location.

Ning Changjiu nodded, his expression revealing undeniable unease.

"Senior Brother, what happened?" Ning Xiaoling quickly ran over, her gaze falling upon the skeleton beside him. She exclaimed in surprise, "This... what is this?"

Ning Changjiu said, "This is the old woman who came knocking on our door."

Ning Xiaoling's eyes widened. Recalling the old woman with a face full of wrinkles, she cried out in horror, "What happened? Grandmother... Grandmother was actually a ghost! If that's the case, then the couplets and door gods she gave us must also be..."

Ning Changjiu nodded. "They likely hold some mystery too, but I don't know what it is yet."

"I'll go tear them down right now!" Ning Xiaoling said hastily.

Ning Changjiu shook his head. "No need."

Ning Xiaoling said anxiously, "The dancer was a ghost, the singer was a ghost, the musician was a ghost, and now the old woman is also a ghost... What, what kind of place is this?"

Ning Changjiu sighed deeply. "Indeed, they're all ghosts."

Behind Ning Xiaoling, a blade pierced her back and emerged from her front.

She lifted her head, staring intensely at Ning Changjiu, trembling all over with shock and bewilderment.

At that moment, she held a long, deep-purple saber, condensed from netherworld energy, in her hand. The blade was exceptionally narrow and had been concealed within her sleeve. She had just pinched the blade to slide it out, gripping the hilt in an instant, but no sooner had the movement of drawing the saber begun than her body was pierced.

What pierced her was the boning knife, wielded with immense force, already embedded in her body and protruding from her back.

"How did you know?" Ning Xiaoling's voice revealed more surprise and doubt than pain.

However, that single strike had precisely hit a piece of cartilage controlling her body. Before she could even get an answer, she rapidly decayed into dust.

"Se... Senior Brother."

Behind Ning Changjiu, the girl, carrying two sheathed swords, watched the scene unfold before her, stunned into silence.

The body, identical to her own, rapidly disintegrated before her very eyes.

Ning Changjiu flicked his sleeve, and the ashes dispersed like smoke. He turned to his junior sister and smiled, "Don't worry, even if you turn to dust, I'll recognize you, junior sister."

Ning Xiaoling, meanwhile, felt a chill. At first glance, she had thought she was seeing things, yet her senior brother had distinguished it immediately.

She looked at her senior brother, deeply touched, but then said with a mournful expression, "Senior Brother, please don't make up any appearances; I won't be able to recognize you!"

Ning Changjiu controlled the knife with spiritual power, piercing through that piece of cartilage, pinning it firmly to the ground. Then, following the same method, he used sword-fire to burn away its demonic nature.

He had intended to offer a few words of comfort to his junior sister, but before he could speak, all expression vanished from his face, leaving him as cold as frost.

Ning Xiaoling was startled. Her first thought was that the previous scene might have been an illusion cast by a demon, and perhaps this senior brother was also fake... She instinctively gripped her sword hilt, ready to block with her sword, but her movements froze.

She looked up, following Ning Changjiu's gaze, and saw a graceful, ethereal shadow emerge on the long street.

Accompanying the figure came a light smoke and mist, like an autumn forest. Her slender, graceful figure swayed elegantly within the mist, like a colorful ribbon gently swirling, revealing the silhouette of a young woman.

She wore a jade-green cloud-silk gown with a pale moon-white cloak draped over her shoulders. Her bare, fair arms were the color of fresh milk, and her waist was impossibly slender.

In her left hand, she carried a green earthenware pot, and in her right, a green porcelain vase. Her figure gently swayed with each step. What should have been a beautiful sight was now shrouded in an eerie, misty veil, evoking only a viscous, chilling sensation.

Ning Changjiu's hand behind his back flexed.

Ning Xiaoling, regaining her senses, understood and tossed a sword. Ning Changjiu caught it, but before he could even draw it, the ghostly figure appeared before him. Despite her hands holding precious items, a pale, pinkish fist, seemingly from nowhere, landed squarely in front of him.

Ning Changjiu had maintained a high level of tension throughout. He clearly saw the origin of this phantom-like punch and reacted accordingly.

However, at that moment, he couldn't make many movements, only able to condense spiritual power in front of him to block.

The punch, infused with a perfumed, feminine aura, landed on his chest.

Time seemed to freeze for a split second.

The curtain-like strands of hair on Ning Xiaoling's forehead were instantly blown upwards. Amidst a booming explosion, the air retreated like parting clouds and waves. In just the blink of an eye, Ning Changjiu was sent flying dozens of yards away, smashing through a row of wooden doors, bamboo frames, and white-painted walls.

In the ruins, Ning Changjiu's white robes were covered in dust.

He pulled himself out of the debris.

The beautiful, fair-faced girl's lips curved slightly. She walked slowly, each step seemingly leaving a trail of smoke, smiling gracefully. Her voice, like the chirping of orioles and swallows, was unnervingly chilling as she said, "What's wrong? Am I not very weak?"

From the dust, Ning Changjiu emerged, drawing his sword.

He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, looked at the beautiful face, and said, "So it was you."

The young woman chuckled, looked at Ning Changjiu, and said, "I also didn't expect to meet you here."

Ning Xiaoling had already drawn her sword and held it horizontally in front of her. Listening to the conversation between her senior brother and the woman, she was bewildered. What? Had they met before?

If Shubei were present, he would also be greatly alarmed, because the girl before them was his Sister Bai, who should have died long ago.

Ning Changjiu, however, discerned her identity through the familiar aura emanating from her, even though the answer was incredibly unbelievable: she was the ghost who had appeared in the Imperial City on the day he was resurrected, and who had killed Ning Qingshui.