The sword clattered to the ground, and the rotting corpse demon dissolved into pus, leaving behind only a stark white skeleton.
The talisman blade immediately burst into flames, turning to ash.
Shi Pengpeng wiped the blood from her lips, but before she could catch her breath, she heard even more chaotic and piercing howls coming from the corner of the mausoleum.
It was the clay figurines they had started to speak.
“Hu, hu hu—the balance of yin and yang can be reversed—”
“Let me, let me ascend-“
“He is mine………”
Shi Pengpeng turned her head and saw hundreds of clay figurines densely packed in front of the mountain wall, raising their ghostly hands, scrambling to climb upward.
It was as if the demons trapped in hell were struggling to break free into the mortal world.
They had been cursed into mindless corpses, trapped in this mausoleum for who knows how long.
Their human consciousness had long since faded, leaving only the resentment born of torment and the instinct to seek release.
Now, without the suppression of the Zhao Xiwen and the sword, they had gone completely mad.
Bai Wanmu and Shan Ren had exhausted themselves trying to stop them, but they were outnumbered and couldn’t hold them all back.
Seeing that a dozen or so clay figurines had already broken through the defenses and were closing in on Yan Jing, about to grab him, Shi Pengpeng’s heart raced.
She quickly tried to summon a talisman to save him, but when she formed the hand seal, she realized she had used up all the talismans she had brought.
This entire night, from Xiluo to Biannan, she had fought wood spirits, clay figurines, and Zhao Xiwen, consuming countless evil-banishing talismans in the process.
It was a miracle she had lasted this long.
Without talismans, relying solely on hand seals, it was nearly impossible to stop so many clay figurines.
Shi Pengpeng’s heart was pounding with anxiety: “Brother, be careful!”
At the same time, Yan Jing also looked up.
Their eyes met, and Yan Jing’s tense expression suddenly relaxed, like a gentle breeze rippling across a spring pond.
His clenched fist opened, revealing a talisman that had already begun to fade.
“Qilin, come forth-” he chanted.
As the words left his mouth, a fierce wind carrying the roar of a beast surged toward the clay figurines like a tidal wave.
“Ahhh” the clay figurines screamed.
In an instant, their clay features twisted into expressions of terror, their eyes wide with fear as they turned to flee.
But how could they outrun the power of the Qilin?
The talisman’s energy rippled through the mausoleum, and in moments, hundreds of clay figurines fell to the ground, their clay bodies shattering into pieces with a cacophony of cracking sounds.
Shan Ren and Bai Wanmu: “……”
They had just been fighting the clay figurines, and in the blink of an eye, the figurines had all turned to dust.
Shan Ren’s fist was still mid-air, frozen in place.
After a moment of stunned silence, he slowly lowered his hands and clasped them together: “Amitabha.”
Bai Wanmu set down her short flute and touched her chest: “Is this the talent of the Unwithering Bone? I’m envious.”
Shi Pengpeng’s heart finally settled, and she let out a long exhale before quickly running to the mountain wall.
Yan Jing climbed down from the mountainside and leaped, landing right in front of her.
His eyes burned with intensity as he reached out to take her hand.
Before he could speak, Shi Pengpeng’s expression suddenly changed: “Watch out!”
A sword’s hum echoed through the air.
Yan Jing felt a chill at his forehead, and his outstretched hand froze mid-air.
His expression twisted, and a strange, satisfied smile spread across his lips: “Truly worthy of the Unwithering Bone. Even with just one soul and one spirit, you can still use it…”
It was Zhao Xiwen’s voice.
Shi Pengpeng immediately understood what was happening upon seeing the situation.
The Zigang Sword was a corpse-dissolving treasure sword.
When Zhao Xiwen used it to cut off his own arm, he left a fragment of his soul within the sword.
Although his decaying corpse had already been destroyed, and even if remnants of his soul lingered, they were not a threat.
Once separated from the sword, they would quickly dissipate.
But Zhao Xiwen, clinging to a sliver of consciousness, used the Zigang Sword to seize the moment when everyone had let their guard down, unexpectedly possessing Yan Jing’s body.
The Unwithering Bone was a miraculous bone of life and death.
Even with just a fragment of soul, attaching it to the Unwithering Bone could disrupt the balance of yin and yang.
With sufficient cultivation, it might even be possible to restore the soul over time.
Shi Pengpeng quickly formed a hand seal and pressed it onto Yan Jing’s forehead.
However, having just used two talisman blade, her energy was depleted, and the seal had no immediate effect.
She could only grab his arm and shake it vigorously, “Brother, wake up!”
“Mm…” Yan Jing let out a low groan, barely regaining control of his body.
But immediately, the voice switched back to Zhao Xiwen’s, “Don’t waste your time. This fool has the Unwithering Bone but doesn’t know how to use it. Even with just a fragment of my soul, he can’t do anything to me…”
Shi Pengpeng ignored his words, tightly gripping Yan Jing’s pulse to prevent him from breaking free and running away.
“Brother, I’m a bit weak right now. You’ll have to rely on yourself.”
Yan Jing came to his senses, “Mm, the Qilin…”
Shi Pengpeng understood his meaning and immediately pressed his palm open, only to find a handful of talisman ash in his hand.
Although this Qilin Talisman had been carefully preserved, it had been many years since it was made.
Yan Jing had used it once in the Zhao family’s grave array and again just now, and now it had completely lost its power.
Zhao Xiwen laughed heartily, “Heaven helps me! Shi Pengpeng, Yan Jing, you can’t do anything to me…”
Before he could finish, he saw Shi Pengpeng pull out a lipstick and start drawing on Yan Jing’s hand.
“What are you doing?” Zhao Xiwen was alarmed and tried to pull Yan Jing’s hand back, but Shi Pengpeng slapped him hard, “Don’t move.”
Zhao Xiwen, a mere fragment of a soul, felt his arm go numb.
By the time he regained sensation, Shi Pengpeng had already finished drawing a talisman on Yan Jing’s palm.
“Brother, wake up.”
Shi Pengpeng held his unmarked hand, intertwining their fingers, her tone unusually gentle.
“Don’t be afraid, I’m here.”
Yan Jing’s consciousness had always been present, but he couldn’t control his body.
Now, looking at Shi Pengpeng and hearing her soft words, he felt as if he had returned to that night many years ago.
Back then, she had also looked at him like this, patiently teaching him how to use the Qilin Talisman.
She had told him that the essence of magic lay in the Dao, not in the form, meaning one shouldn’t be confined to a single method.
But at that time, she had been too fierce, single-handedly driving away a powerful ghost, leaving him no chance to practice.
“Mm, I know.”
Yan Jing regained control of his body and tightly clasped her hand.
“You’ve always been by my side.”
In the past.
And now.
“Qilin, arrive!”
The roar of a beast echoed, and Zhao Xiwen let out a scream as his fragment of soul was expelled from Yan Jing’s body by the power of the Qilin.
“No” The incomplete, translucent soul clung desperately to Yan Jing’s shoulder, struggling to return to his body.
“The withered bones are mine “
Yan Jing fully regained consciousness, his eyes once again cold and aloof, his tone disdainful.
“Hmph, you think you’re worthy?”
With a wave of his hand, which bore the mark of the Qilin, he struck Zhao Xiwen’s fragmented soul.
The power of the Qilin roared forth, instantly tearing Zhao Xiwen to shreds.
“Wow!” Shi Pengpeng looked at Yan Jing, then at his hand.
“The Qilin Arm!”
Yan Jing: “……”
At this moment, all she needed to do was praise him.
Pretending not to hear, he leaned closer to her, noticing the bloodstain at the corner of her mouth.
His heart ached as he asked, “And you? How are you?”
“It’s nothing. I’ll just go back and have some angelica chicken soup to replenish my blood,” Shi Pengpeng said lightly, seeing that the situation was resolved, and tried to let go of him.
Shi Pengpeng: ?
She slowly looked down, confirming that Yan Jing was still holding her tightly.
After a moment of thought, she reminded him, “Brother, the ghost has been defeated. You don’t need to be afraid anymore.”
Yan Jing was puzzled.
“Who said I was afraid?”
Shi Pengpeng: “…Then can you let go of me?”
“Oh.” Yan Jing looked back at her, silent for a moment before slowly saying, “Can I not let go?”
Shi Pengpeng: “……?”
What?
As soon as the young master was out of danger, he started acting strange again?
Shi Pengpeng was suspicious, thinking he was just putting on a brave face, but she also felt that something was off, as if something had changed.
Thinking back, Yan Jing had been acting strangely lately, often doing things that didn’t quite fit his usual demeanor.
Vague thoughts flashed through her mind, but before she could fully process them, Bai Wanmu’s urgent voice interrupted her.
“Pengpeng, the situation isn’t good.”
Bai Wanmu and Shan Ren hurried over, with Shan Ren pointing towards the mountain wall.
“Those souls seem to be fading fast. We need to perform a ritual for them immediately.”
At the base of the mountain wall, the clay figures had crumbled into piles of yellow earth, but the souls were still attached to the fragments, struggling helplessly to break free.
They had been cursed and fused into the clay figures, becoming one with the mud mixed with their own bones.
Now that the figures had shattered, the souls were at their limit, reduced to mere fragments.
If they didn’t perform the ritual soon, these souls would likely dissipate completely.
“Ahhh,” Bai Wanmu scratched her face, worried.
“The key issue now is, how do we get out of here?”
Hundreds of fragmented souls were no small matter.
With just the three of them, it was impossible to perform the ritual alone.
They needed to seek help from the mystical sects gathered in the southern border.
But they had been abducted here in a daze and had no idea where this tomb palace was located.
Checking their phones, there was still no signal, leaving them unable to contact the outside world.
“Wait,” Shi Pengpeng suddenly realized.
“The formation here is still intact!”
Logically, since Zhao Xiwen was the ruler of the tomb palace and the Zigan Sword was in his possession, the formation should have collapsed with his demise.
But the still elaborate paper offerings, the souls still controlled by the clay figures, and the unfathomable barriers all indicated that the formation here remained intact.
The true power controlling this tomb palace was not Zhao Xiwen.
Shi Pengpeng thought of something and turned to look at the enormous statue of the evil deity.
The clay-carved evil deity, four stories tall, sat in the very center of the mausoleum, its long eyes lowered, gazing down at them from on high.
In front of it, three long and two short incense sticks had already burned out.
Just as Shi Pengpeng looked over, the clay eyes blinked once, and its lips split into a wide, eerie grin.
“Shi Pengpeng, you have uncovered the truth,” the statue of the evil deity spoke, its voice booming like thunder.
Then, slowly, it began to rise.