Chapter 80: Mountain of Ten Thousand Demons, City of Ghosts

The wounds had healed for the most part, and Yan Hongyi felt her energy returning. Without hesitation, she stood up and plunged into the descending night, returning only after a long while with two skinned wild rabbits and a large quantity of clear water carried in wooden containers she’d fashioned herself.

Jiang Ming had already kindled the campfire. For him, this was a trivial task. He circulated his true energy, transforming it into fire, then invoked the intent of flame; with a mere wave of his hand, fire sprang forth. It bore more than a hint of his signature Flame Blade.

The fire blazed, sending the aroma of roasting meat drifting through the air. The three of them sat in silence, savoring a rare moment of peace.

The wind picked up, rustling through the darkness. Jiang Ming glanced up. “It’s going to rain.”

He hesitated briefly, looked at Liuli, then darted off. In no time, he returned dragging a dead tree, which he chopped into firewood with the edge of his palm and stacked in the corner. There was more than enough to last the night.

Soon, the rabbit meat was done. “Brother Jiang, please,” Yan Hongyi said, tearing off a rabbit leg and handing it to him.

“Give it to Liuli first,” Jiang Ming replied, waving her off.

“Big brother eats first!” Liuli protested, drooling.

Jiang Ming smiled, took the rabbit leg, and handed it to her. “Thank you, big brother!” Liuli exclaimed gratefully.

“What a sensible little girl,” Jiang Ming remarked, smiling.

Yan Hongyi passed him another piece. Only when he took a bite did Liuli begin to eat. Jiang Ming ate slowly, while the two girls devoured their food ravenously, clearly famished.

Once they’d slowed down, Jiang Ming finally spoke. “I’ve been in seclusion for years to cultivate, so I know little of the outside world. Miss Yan, have any great events occurred lately?”

So young, yet in seclusion for years? Yan Hongyi’s eyes flickered with curiosity, but she dared not probe, answering honestly, “There have been quite a few major events, actually.”

“Tell me about them. Tell me about every faction,” Jiang Ming urged.

“Very well.”

As Yan Hongyi began her account, Jiang Ming continuously asked questions, subtly guiding her, and soon gained a detailed understanding of the world around him.

The Great Yu Dynasty had lasted over three centuries. Now, beset by natural disasters and human calamities, the reigning emperor was a foolish tyrant, selling offices, squeezing every last coin from the people, who cursed him to the heavens.

To make matters worse, bandits ran rampant, demons and monsters prowled unchecked, and ghosts multiplied; truly, the land was in chaos and the people in misery.

Within the imperial court was the Demon Suppression Bureau, charged with subduing evil across the realm. But as the dynasty decayed, the bureau too had weakened, barely able to hold its own territory.

This allowed demon clans to gather in the southern mountains, establishing a main base known as Ten Thousand Demons Mountain.

To the north, a city had been overrun by vengeful spirits and transformed into a ghostly hell. The Demon Suppression Bureau had dispatched experts many times, only for countless heroes to perish.

There were also several great sects guarding different regions: the True Heart Sect, the Palace of Lunar Shadows, the Hall of Pure Yang, and the Vajra Monastery, as well as the rising Demon King Sect—infamous for its wicked deeds and relentless machinations.

All in all, chaos reigned.

“Ten Thousand Demons Mountain, a ghostly hell, and yet the great sects do nothing?” Jiang Ming frowned deeply.

“Oh, they act,” Yan Hongyi sighed, “but each harbors private motives, wary of the others. Most pay lip service but do little. With such half-hearted effort, facing demon or ghost kings is a recipe for disaster.”

Beyond these, there were many dangerous and forbidden places scattered across the land.

Jiang Ming filed all this quietly in his mind.

He had also pieced together most of the local cultivation paths. Martial cultivation was divided into Postnatal, Prenatal, True Qi, Master, Grandmaster, and Celestial Phenomenon stages—much like his home world.

As for Daoist cultivation, there were six stages: Meditation, Focused Spirit, Shadow Soul, Manifestation, Dharma Body, and Domain. These differed somewhat from his world, but their functions seemed similar: Focused Spirit matched his world’s version, Shadow Soul corresponded to Phantom Form, and Manifestation to Materialization.

Interesting.

Jiang Ming beckoned, and several pieces of wood flew into his hand and into the fire, a sight that made Linglong watch in awe. “Big brother, what kind of sorcery is that? It’s amazing and so convenient!”

“That’s not a spell,” Jiang Ming explained. “It’s a martial technique called Crane Control and Dragon Capture. I use true energy to manipulate objects—a trifling trick.”

A trifling trick? Yan Hongyi nearly rolled her eyes. To achieve this, one needed immense true energy and exquisite control, as if directing one’s own limbs.

Jiang Ming asked further about the monsters and demons. In this world, there were mainly two kinds: demons and ghosts, collectively called fiends.

Demons were divided into four stages: demi-demons with budding intelligence, small demons who had cultivated demon qi, great demons, and demon kings.

Ghosts also had four stages: shadow spirits, fierce ghosts, ghost generals, and ghost kings.

Whether demon king or ghost king, they were apex powers in this world.

“Each one has the power to destroy cities, on par with a Celestial Phenomenon cultivator,” Yan Hongyi said, her voice tinged with fear.

She rubbed her stomach and let out a long, contented sigh.

Comfortable. So comfortable. Of all these recent days, none had been as restful as today.

But suddenly recalling the presence of a man beside her, she stilled her hand and casually lowered it, her cheeks flushing pink.

To let herself go like this in front of a man—where had her vigilance gone?

“Brother Jiang, I’ll recite the contents of the Immortal Lunar Scripture for you now, and later I’ll draw the visualization diagram,” Yan Hongyi said, sitting upright.

“No rush,” Jiang Ming replied. “But tell me, what’s your situation?”

Yan Hongyi’s face darkened. Liuli’s eyes welled with tears as she snuggled closer to her.

“A child without a mother… it’s a long story,” Yan Hongyi sighed. “You’ve probably guessed we’re from the Palace of Lunar Shadows.”

“My master, who is also Liuli’s mother, was the palace matron. One day, she took Liuli out for a stroll. I accompanied them. But we were ambushed.”

The enemy was powerful—exceptionally so. They trapped them in a great formation. Though the matron broke free, she was gravely wounded, and began fighting back. Just as she was about to turn the tide, the vice-matron—her own junior sister—arrived. They had thought help had come, but instead, she struck a treacherous blow, nearly killing the matron on the spot.

The matron instantly understood: it was the vice-matron who had betrayed them.

Already severely wounded and ambushed, the matron realized her end was near. She unleashed a forbidden art that grievously injured the traitor and sent Liuli to safety.

“After that, I was relentlessly pursued,” Yan Hongyi continued, her voice low. “My master must have died, and the vice-matron, herself gravely injured, was in no shape to chase us personally or mobilize the palace. So she spread the word. After all, Liuli is the matron’s daughter and must possess the palace’s supreme art, the Immortal Lunar Scripture. Many would hunt us for it.”

“No one from the palace came to your aid?” Jiang Ming frowned.

“There were surely those who would have, but…” Yan Hongyi sighed, “the ambush included great demons. The vice-matron used that as an excuse, claiming Ten Thousand Demons Mountain was about to attack the sect. She also spread the rumor that the matron and Liuli were dead. Who would dare leave the mountain? For the sake of the sect’s safety, none could go out.”

“She must have thought that, with so many coveting the scripture, Liuli and I would never survive. If we died, our bodies would be destroyed, leaving no trace, as the killers would gain the supreme art and erase all evidence.”

“A traitor to her master and sect—she deserves death!” Yan Hongyi ground her teeth.

Liuli wore an expression of deep hatred. “I always called her aunt. She always treated me so well. But why, why would she do this…”

“Human hearts are as fickle as ghosts; power darkens the soul,” Jiang Ming murmured. “What will you do now?”

“We’ll go to Brightmoon City!”

“Brightmoon City?”

“Yes! The Palace of Lunar Shadows does have male disciples, but they serve as protectors. The city lord of Brightmoon is my elder uncle—brilliant and peerless in talent. Sect rules state that only female disciples may inherit the palace; even if a man’s power is unmatched, he can only be a protector, guarding the sect. My uncle wished to protect my master forever, but when she had Liuli’s father, he felt the sect no longer needed him and quietly left to found Brightmoon City,” Yan Hongyi explained.

Jiang Ming caught the underlying meaning: the elder uncle loved his junior sister, but unrequited, he chose to guard her in silence—until she found another man, at which point he left in sorrow.

He was more curious though: if only women could inherit the palace, why were marriages permitted? Odd, indeed.

“When we reach Brightmoon City, uncle will surely protect Liuli and avenge my master,” Yan Hongyi said, full of certainty.

At that moment, Jiang Ming lifted his head and gazed outside.

Yan Hongyi, puzzled yet suddenly tense, whispered, “Brother Jiang, is someone coming?”

“My dear Hongyi, are you hoping your aunt has arrived?” A crisp female voice rang out, and before it faded, a woman in white appeared outside.

Alluring and elegant, even in the night, with wind and rain lashing, her beauty could not be concealed. The heavy rain, as if wary, parted above her head, and her feet never touched the ground—she floated in, clearly suspended above the earth.

“Greetings, Aunt Yunshuang,” Yan Hongyi said, rising and bowing, sheltering Liuli behind her.

She was on high alert. “Aunt, what brings you here, traveling the night in your shadow soul? In this torrential rain, thunder is sure to follow. Though your power is immense and you stand at the pinnacle of the Manifestation stage, you must still be cautious. Heaven’s wrath is unpredictable.”

Clearly, by stating her aunt’s cultivation, she was informing Jiang Ming.

“My, my, little Hongyi, when did you start worrying about me?” Yunshuang laughed, then turned to Liuli. “Come here, let Aunt Shuang hold you.”

Liuli quickly hid her face.

“You ungrateful child! I used to cuddle and spoil you, and now you hide from me. But you can’t hide forever!” Yunshuang’s laughter was light, her gaze flicking to Jiang Ming, her eyes lighting up. “Oh my, what a handsome young man—such delicate features, such fair skin! Even I’m envious. Tell me, little lamb, do you think I’m pretty?”

She swayed in as she spoke, alluring with every step.

Yan Hongyi ground her teeth as if cursing, “Old witch.”

Jiang Ming grinned. “Too bad you’re not corporeal.”

His sharp eyes had seen through her at once: she was a soul body—a shadow soul.

Shadow souls are intangible, but as power increases, they gradually gain substance, becoming real and unreal at will. At the fourth stage—Materialization in his world—the soul and spirit can take physical form, manifesting in reality at a thought. Manifestation is the same.

“If you want a real body, that’s easy. Once I settle my affairs, we can soar together and live as immortals,” Yunshuang purred, her voice teasing.

“How shameless!” Yan Hongyi huffed.

“If you knew a man’s pleasures, you’d be worse than me,” Yunshuang retorted, then sighed, looking at her. “The matron was good at everything—except she was too naive. She spurned her devoted senior brother for some wild man and bore a bastard. Well, bygones are bygones. Without the matron, it’s hard to master the Immortal Lunar Scripture, but I want to go further. What can I do? The opportunity has arrived! Hand over the scripture, and I’ll send you on your way—spare you further suffering in this dirty world.”

“She is the matron’s daughter, the young mistress, your niece! Aunt Yunshuang, will you really betray your kin and your sect? The matron was kind to you!” Yan Hongyi’s face hardened.

“We must look to the future,” Yunshuang replied, her voice as soft as mist. “As for this pretty boy—he’s too charming to let go.”

Suddenly, radiance bloomed from her, coalescing into a luminous moon suspended above. Within the moon appeared her own delicate, flawless figure—pure, immaculate, exuding a tranquil aura that filled the ruined temple.

“The Pure Lunar Scripture—Moonlight Manifestation!” Yan Hongyi’s pupils shrank.

“That’s not a full manifestation—just the display of a shadow soul,” Yunshuang’s voice echoed from the moon. “I’m not at the Dharma Body stage yet; I have only the form, not the essence. And the Pure Lunar Scripture is far inferior to the Immortal Lunar Scripture. Hongyi, don’t force me to imprison you and sell you to a brothel.”

“You wouldn’t want little Liuli to suffer with you, would you?”

“In the end, it’s just a scripture,” Yunshuang’s voice grew cold.

“Born of the same root—why such cruelty?” Jiang Ming stepped forward, fixing Yunshuang with a smile. “Weren’t you eager to get close to me? Let me show you the blazing vigor of a man.”

He unleashed his tightly restrained blood energy. In Yunshuang’s eyes, Jiang Ming instantly became a furnace—no, a sun. A sun right before her.

Blazing, unyielding masculine energy—utterly inimical to her shadow soul—was like snow meeting a raging fire, utterly overpowering her.

She screamed; the illusory moon shattered and vanished, her soul shrinking as if snow plunging into boiling oil.

Forcing down her terror and the agony of soul-rending destruction, she turned to flee.

“Since you’re here, and the night is long, Yunshuang, why not sit and talk about life, about dreams?” Jiang Ming’s voice was gentle as he struck mercilessly.

Drafting the outline of a new world delayed me.

Two chapters delivered.

Continuing to write—let’s see if I can get another chapter out by midnight.

I beg your support!

(End of Chapter)