Chapter 118: Su Miaoqing: Xiao Feng, Keep Your Hands to Yourself!
Seeing the disappointment in her eyes, Xiao Yifeng felt a sudden impulse to confess everything—his rebirth, the future, the truth of this world. But reason clamped down on his tongue. He forced a smile. "Thank you for understanding, Senior Sister. I hope you can keep this secret for me."
"Mm." Su Miaoqing nodded, her beautiful eyes dimming. The rejection stung.
They had grown up together as childhood sweethearts, sharing everything. She had never kept a secret from him; she had practically bared her soul—and thanks to the recent fire, her body—to him. Yet, this guy clearly held a piece of himself back.
The injustice of it flared within her. She lashed out, planting a fierce kick on Xiao Yifeng’s shin.
"Ouch!" Xiao Yifeng grimaced, utterly baffled. Weren't you being open-minded and understanding just a second ago? Why the sudden violence?
He shook his head with a bitter smile. Women were truly the most incomprehensible creatures in the Three Realms.
They reached the boundary where the scorched earth of the mountain gave way to the eerie expanse of Wild Ghost Ridge. A stone tablet marked the dividing line. Seeing no guardians, Xiao Yifeng swept his sleeve and stowed the tablet into his storage ring without a second thought. Loot first, ask questions later.
The geography of this underworld trial was like a funnel. Evil Dog Ridge and Wild Ghost Ridge were the vast, gaping mouths at either end, filled with chaotic arrays and wandering horrors. Golden Rooster Mountain was the narrow choke point in the center.
"Senior Sister," Xiao Yifeng said, eyeing the swirling gray mist ahead. "The spatial laws here are unstable. We should hold hands to ensure we aren't separated."
Su Miaoqing didn't object. She extended her hand and grasped his firmly, though she turned her head away, refusing to make eye contact. She was evidently still sulking.
Xiao Yifeng recalled Little Ice into the beast sack. He then gave her a detailed briefing on the rules of survival for the ridge. Su Miaoqing listened intently, her anger not overriding her survival instinct.
Only when he was certain she understood every detail did Xiao Yifeng lead her into the mist.
From the moment they crossed the threshold, the temperature plummeted. Xiao Yifeng felt Su Miaoqing’s nervousness; her small hand tightened around his, her grip slick with cold sweat.
They had taken only a few steps when the world dissolved. Withered, twisted trees clawed at the sky like dying hands. A biting yin wind howled, carrying the stench of decay. The mist was so thick it swallowed all light, making it impossible to distinguish north from south.
"Senior Sister," Xiao Yifeng whispered, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence. "There is a mysterious force here that tries to misdirect and isolate intruders. Stay alert."
There was no response.
Since entering the mist, Su Miaoqing hadn’t spoken a word. Xiao Yifeng frowned. The hand in his grasp, which had been tense a moment ago, suddenly felt different. It was… slippery. Boneless. Bloated.
A jolt of icy dread shot down his spine.
He whipped his head around.
Standing where Su Miaoqing should have been was a bloated male ghost. Its skin was waterlogged and rotting, peeling away in gray strips. Pustules covered its face, oozing yellow fluid.
Xiao Yifeng’s eyes widened. He immediately activated his ocular technique, hoping this was merely an illusion. It wasn't. The thing holding his hand was a genuine, wandering spirit. Su Miaoqing was gone.
The bloated ghost grinned at him. Its lips split wide, revealing a mouth teeming with writhing corpse worms.
What the actual f—!
The stark contrast between a peerless beauty and this rotting abomination nearly made Xiao Yifeng retch. He cursed the master of this Immortal Abode a thousand times over in his heart.
"Get off!"
Xiao Yifeng released the hand as if he had touched a red-hot iron. Disgust overwhelmed him. With a backhanded swing, the Falling Rainbow Sword flashed.
Squelch.
The bloated ghost was cleaved in two.
Xiao Yifeng didn’t stop there. He vigorously rubbed his hand against his robes, then summoned his True Fire to burn away the lingering sensation of the ghost’s slime.
"Spatial displacement," he muttered, his expression dark. "Even physical contact couldn't prevent the separation."
His heart sank. With his formidable spiritual perception, the swap had happened instantaneously and without a ripple of energy fluctuation. He had been completely deceived.
Elsewhere in the mist.
Su Miaoqing walked cautiously, her eyes darting around the gloom. The silence was deafening.
Suddenly, she felt the hand holding hers move. Xiao Yifeng’s thumb began to stroke the back of her hand, caressing it with a restless, lingering touch.
Su Miaoqing’s face flushed crimson. This guy! In a place like this?
"Xiao Feng!" she snapped, embarrassment and anger warring in her tone. "Behave yourself! Look where we are!"
She tried to yank her hand away, but the grip didn't loosen. Instead, "Xiao Yifeng" reached out with his other hand, his fingers drifting toward her cheek.
Su Miaoqing froze.
The hand reaching for her face was deathly pale. The fingers were unnaturally slender, the nails long and jagged. It was cold—like reaching into a grave.
A primal warning screamed in her mind.
She spun around.
Floating beside her was not Xiao Yifeng, but a female ghost in tattered white robes. Her face was the color of ash, her lips cracked and dry. Her eyes were empty black pits. A long, purple tongue lolled out of her mouth, dripping saliva.
"Little Sister..." the ghost rasped, her voice sounding like grinding stones. "Your skin... your figure... they are truly exquisite. Even I, a woman, am envious. Why don't you... give this skin to me?"
The ghost’s hollow laughter echoed, sinister and piercing.
"Ahhhhh!"
Su Miaoqing screamed. The terror was visceral, overriding all training. Goosebumps exploded across her skin.
WHOOSH!
Instinct took over. Golden flames erupted from her body—the Undead Bird Source Blood reacting to the threat. The terrifying Phoenix fire engulfed the female ghost instantly.
"SCREEEE—!"
The ghost let out a wretched shriek before being vaporized into nothingness.
Su Miaoqing stood trembling in the mist, her chest heaving. Cultivators were supposed to defy the heavens and fear nothing, but she had been terrified of ghosts since she was a little girl.
She frantically extended her Divine Sense. Nothing. Just emptiness, withered trees, and the distant, flickering lights of will-o'-the-wisps.
"Xiao Feng?" she called out, her voice trembling.
Only the wind answered.
She felt like she had been dropped into the deepest circle of hell. She was alone. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She would rather go back to Golden Rooster Mountain and fight ten thousand metal birds than spend another second in this ghostly void. At least there, Xiao Yifeng was by her side.
Xiao Yifeng stood alone in the mist.
He wasn't overly panicked. He knew the Wild Ghost Ridge was vast, and the teleportation was random. However, Su Miaoqing possessed the Coiling Dragon Jade Pendant for defense, Golden Core realm talismans for offense, and the ultimate trump card—the Undead Bird Source Blood.
"The Phoenix fire is the nemesis of all Yin creatures," Xiao Yifeng reasoned. "If she's truly in danger, she'll burn this entire ridge to the ground."
His priority was to reach the rendezvous point—Fengdu Hall—as quickly as possible.
"Time to speedrun," he murmured.
He sheathed the Falling Rainbow Sword and reached into the void, pulling out a pitch-black blade radiating ominously malevolent energy.
The Immortal Slayer Sword.
A figure in crimson robes materialized beside him. The Sword Spirit glanced around the desolate landscape, her eyes lighting up. She licked her blood-red lips, a predatory smile stretching across her face.
"It smells delicious here," she purred. "A feast awaits."
The Immortal Slayer was the bane of all soul entities. It didn't just kill them; it devoured them, converting their soul force into power. For the Sword Spirit, this wasn't a trial. It was a buffet.
With no witnesses around, Xiao Yifeng dropped his disguise. He clasped his hands together, his aura shifting instantly from a sharp swordsman to a transcendent sage.
Wuxiang Monastery—Formless Heart Sutra.
A pure, serene golden light radiated from his body. He looked like an enlightened high monk walking through hell, dustless and untainted.
"Ugh," the Sword Spirit wrinkled her nose. "That energy is disgusting. It makes my skin crawl."
"Disgusting or not, it's the most efficient tool for this job," Xiao Yifeng said calmly. "Let's go."
He rose into the air, making no attempt to hide his presence. The aura of a living human acted like a beacon in the dark. Immediately, dozens of vengeful spirits shrieked and swarmed toward him from the mist.
Xiao Yifeng tossed the Immortal Slayer Sword into the air. "All yours."
While the Sword Spirit flew off to harvest, Xiao Yifeng formed a series of hand seals. A halo of Buddhist light bloomed behind his head. He pointed a finger at a rushing wave of malicious ghosts.
"Begone."
A beam of pure, compassionate light shot forth. The moment the ghosts touched it, their screams of malice turned to silence as they dissolved into ash, purified instantly.
Xiao Yifeng smiled. As expected of the Wuxiang Heart Sutra. It’s kryptonite for the undead.
More spirits clawed their way toward him, drawn by his life force. He waited until they were within striking distance, then opened his mouth and thundered a single syllable.
"OM!"
The six-syllable mantra shook the air. Brilliant yellow light exploded from his body like a miniature sun. The vengeful spirits didn't even have time to scream; they evaporated like snow thrown into a furnace.
He didn't stop. Xiao Yifeng flew forward, a golden comet tearing through the gloom.
Beside him, the Sword Spirit was a blur of crimson death. She wielded the Immortal Slayer Sword with joyful abandon. Unlike Xiao Yifeng’s purification, her method was brutal consumption. Every ghost she struck let out a final wail before being sucked into the black blade to fuel its power.
One used the holiest light to purify; the other used the darkest arts to devour.
Together, they cut a path of destruction straight toward the heart of the Wild Ghost Ridge. Gods, Buddhas, or ghosts—nothing could stand in their way. Occasionally, a Golden Core realm spirit would emerge, roaring with power, only to be obliterated in seconds by their combined assault.
They were the apex predators of this underworld.