It was a delicate, curvaceous body.
The woman’s face was stunningly beautiful, eyes shut, looking serene—but in such a scene, the beauty was haunting.
Countless blood vessels of various sizes sprouted from her body, pulsating in rhythm with her heartbeat.
Zhang Xianyu hovered mid-air, suspended by Lin Wushui, staring fixedly at the woman below.
Unlike the restless blood vessels, the woman took a long while before slowly opening her eyes.
Her eyes were red—no sclera, just blood-red irises filling the sockets.
The moment she opened them, all pretenses shattered.
“What the hell is that?”
Zhang Xianyu muttered.
“There’s not a single normal ghost in this bomb shelter.”
Lin Wushui replied he didn’t know.
“With corpses piled here for decades, who knows what grew out of it.”
The woman’s eyes, filled with resentment, glared at them.
“You…dare to…ruin…my…ritual…”
Zhang Xianyu narrowed his eyes.
“Looks like she can’t move.”
Lin Wushui noticed it too.
Perhaps failing to devour the last two infants had interrupted the ritual.
Despite her terrifying appearance, the woman’s body was forcibly pinned to the bottom of the pool.
“I’ll draw her fire. Can you kill her?”
Zhang Xianyu estimated,
“Sixty percent chance.”
“Alright. Be careful.”
With that, Lin Wushui’s swirling black mist scattered into numerous wisps attacking in all directions.
Zhang Xianyu, under its cover, approached the center of the pool.
But the woman was no fool—seeing Zhang heading straight for her, she instantly wrapped herself in a cocoon of fine blood vessels, leaving only her resentful eyes exposed.
Zhang Xianyu dodged her relentless attacks while placing four spirit banners in four cardinal directions and buried a crimson Five Thunder Talisman.
The blood vessels, fearful of thunder magic, dared not touch the banners and vented their rage on Zhang Xianyu instead.
Thankfully, the larger vessels were entangled by Lin Wushui, leaving the smaller ones for Zhang to handle.
Using thunderbolts from his palm, he dived into the pool, stuffing the remaining three crimson talismans and three purple ones through the gap near her eyes.
Sensing danger, the surrounding vessels struggled to eject the talismans.
Zhang Xianyu pressed them down with both hands and shouted,
“Pull me up!”—and simultaneously detonated the six talismans.
Amid blinding light and deafening explosions, a mass of black mist wrapped around him and tumbled to the ground.
The combined power of six high-grade Five Thunder Talismans nearly collapsed the entire cave. Stones rained down from above.
Coughing, Zhang Xianyu staggered to his feet.
Thankfully, the black mist had pulled him out just in time—otherwise, he’d have ended up like the woman in the pool.
Speaking of the woman…
Zhang looked again and saw the scorched humanoid form still moving.
It started slow, then faster.
The charred skin peeled away like a shed, revealing fresh, pale skin underneath.
Even the vessels began sloughing off their burned layers and twitching again.
“She’s not dead?”
Zhang’s face turned grim.
“She’s absorbing the red moss juice to recover,”
Lin Wushui noted the moss wilting outside the cave.
“We can’t let her heal.”
His voice trembled, though he tried to hide it.
The Five Thunder Talismans should suppress any evil, and six exploding at once was extremely powerful.
When he pulled Zhang up, his spirit form suffered damage.
Luckily, he’d consumed enough monsters earlier that he could recover over time.
Zhang didn’t notice Lin’s abnormality—after all, Lin was just a cloud of mist, and his injuries were hard to spot.
Zhang Xianyu looked at the four firmly placed banners and gritted his teeth.
“If the shelter collapses, make sure you protect me.”
He had no talismans left to protect his body.
If the place caved in, a mortal body like his couldn’t withstand it.
“I’ll protect you,”
Lin replied.
With that promise, Zhang bit his finger and drew a sigil in his left palm using blood.
Channeling all his qi, he slammed it into the ground: “One-turn, Heaven’s Gate strikes! Two-turn, Thunderbolt clashes! Three-turn, Dragon God exhales mist! Four-turn, Thunder rain spreads! Five-turn, Flying sand and stones! Six-turn, Mountain spirits are crushed! Seven-turn, Yin Thunder commands! By my order—Cleanse all evil! Smite all filth! Let the thunder strike!”
As he finished, the four banners flapped violently.
The talismans beneath them ignited without fire.
Outside, the already pale sky suddenly cracked with thunder, followed by lightning bolts pouring down.
In an instant, the sun vanished behind dark clouds.
A torrential storm brewed.
Inside the shelter, thunder surged.
This “Lightning Formation” drew upon heavenly thunder—
Zhang’s first attempt.
Uncontrolled divine lightning rampaged inside the shelter, shattering the corpse pit.
Lightning ravaged the pool, obliterating the woman’s figure.
Stone walls crumbled under repeated strikes.
Zhang, shielded by the black mist, vaguely heard heavy breathing behind him.
He suddenly remembered something—and was shocked.
“Isn’t heavenly thunder bad for—”
“Shhh…don’t move.”
Lin Wushui’s voice was low and weak.
Lightning is the bane of evil.
Without his physical form to shield him, Lin couldn’t escape the heavenly thunder.
Even though he tried to suppress his aura, he still got struck a few times.
Fortunately, the greater evil in the corpse pool had attracted most of the thunder.
Lin shielded Zhang tightly under him as falling rocks gradually buried them both…
In Jiangcheng, the largest thunderstorm in recorded history began.
The sudden blasts of thunder woke the sleeping city.
Rain as big as soybeans pounded on roads and rooftops, loud and relentless.
One lightning bolt after another tore through the sky.
It was as if heaven itself was being split apart.
Freshmen at Jiangcheng University, freed from military training, rushed to balconies to enjoy the storm.
In Dorm 510, Luo Danqing and Zheng Pang looked worriedly at the dark sky.
Zhang Xianyu had gone out the night before and hadn’t returned.
The storm raged for over an hour.
Once it eased, a rescue team arrived at the bomb shelter.
A yellow-robed Taoist dragged the university president—a balding middle-aged man—toward the shelter, shouting,
“Tell them to dig! Junior Uncle is still inside!”
The university president knew of the shelter’s secrets.
Every president over the years had kept the pact of silence.
Originally, Lin Wushui and Xie Dingxin were to scout while the others waited outside.
If necessary, they’d evacuate the school.
But nothing happened for hours—no ghosts emerged—and then thunder fell from the sky!
The entire bomb shelter collapsed, most severely at the base of Luocheng Mountain, where a massive crater 4–5 meters wide opened up.
The Taoist nearly lost it, yanking the president up to summon the school’s construction team.
Rain still poured.
The site leader hesitated: “This rain is too heavy. It’s dangerous to dig.”
The Taoist stomped in panic.
“Dig! Triple—no—ten times the pay! Just dig. We must get them out!”
So, the crew began digging through the storm…
The underground air-raid shelters were a tangled maze.
The yellow-robed Taoist priest didn’t know exactly where they were trapped, so he could only instruct people to start digging from the massive pit at the foot of Mount Luocheng, where the collapse was most severe.
This was nearly a kilometer away from the shelter entrance.
News of the air-raid shelter’s collapse and Mount Luocheng being struck by lightning quickly spread to the students.
Speculation ran rampant, but only Luo Danqing and Zheng Pang were genuinely anxious, vaguely sensing that this had something to do with Zhang Xianyu, who had not returned.
The excavation went on for most of the day—from dawn till dusk, through the torrential rain and into the golden evening glow.
The pit at the foot of Mount Luocheng was over ten meters deep.
Dozens of workers and several excavators worked nonstop.
Finally, when clearing the last area, they found people trapped under the rubble.
The first ones to be found were Xie Dingxin and Wang Yi.
The Vajra Talismans Zhang Xianyu had given them saved their lives.
When the air-raid shelter collapsed, Xie Dingxin quickly used hers.
Though both had some fractures and bruises, they fortunately suffered no fatal injuries.
Next, they dug out Zhang Xianyu, and last was Lin Wushui.
Zhang Xianyu was protected by a cloud of black mist and had no visible external injuries.
He’d merely fainted from exhaustion and depleted qi.
Among the four, Lin Wushui was actually the most seriously injured.
The protective barrier Zhang Xianyu had set up was destroyed in the collapse.
Lin Wushui’s body was left unattended, his legs crushed by heavy stones—flesh and blood mangled, a terrifying sight.
An ambulance was already waiting nearby.
The emergency medical team quickly carried all four onto stretchers and rushed them to the hospital.
Zhang Xianyu woke up starving.
He vaguely heard someone sobbing quietly and opened his eyes in confusion, seeing a gentle-looking woman clutching the hand of a man Zhang had seen once before, quietly weeping.
The man was awake, his handsome face twisted in discomfort.
His left hand was being held tightly by the woman, and though he wanted to pull away, he didn’t dare.
Sitting next to the woman was a stern-looking middle-aged man, also watching Zhang Xianyu with concern.
“You’re awake?”
Lin Wushui’s eyes scanned the room.
When he saw Zhang Xianyu open his eyes, he immediately brightened and gently said to the weeping woman,
“Mom, stop crying—my friend is awake. Please call the doctor.”
Still crying, Lin’s mother wiped her tears and pressed the call button, then smiled at Zhang Xianyu.
“Xiaoyu, you’re awake? Are you feeling okay?”
Zhang Xianyu didn’t feel unwell—just hungry.
But he wasn’t very familiar with them and felt it inappropriate to mention something as abrupt as hunger.
Somewhat reserved, he asked,
“Excuse me…who brought me here?”
Lin’s mother paused and looked at her son, confused—wasn’t this the friend you mentioned?
Why does he seem not to know you?
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