“Yun’er, are you thirsty? Shall I pour you some water?”
“I’m not thirsty!”
“Yun’er, are you hungry? I’ll go downstairs and buy you something to eat.”
“Not hungry!”
“Yun’er, you… hey, hey, hey, that hurts!”
“Ling Xiaodong, are you never going to stop?!”
Ye Yiyun, furious and embarrassed, twisted Ling Xiaodong’s ear, making him grimace in pain.
“Wasn’t it you who told me to call you Yun’er?”
“I told you not to call me Auntie! Who gave you permission to call me that?”
Ye Yiyun defended herself, her face flushed—after all, she held the final say in the matter.
“I was wrong, I was wrong. It’s getting late; let’s get some rest.”
Ling Xiaodong quickly begged for mercy, and only then did Ye Yiyun release his ear.
They reached the bedside and found the bed utterly unfit for sleeping.
Ye Yiyun glared at Ling Xiaodong with a flushed face.
Ling Xiaodong had no choice but to send a servant to bring up a fresh set of bedding.
After washing up, Ye Yiyun crawled into bed early, utterly exhausted from recovering from her serious illness and all the commotion throughout the day.
She forced her eyes open, gazing at Ling Xiaodong beneath the bed fiddling with that old quilt, and asked:
“What are you doing? Hurry and put out the light, go to sleep.”
“Almost done!”
Ling Xiaodong carefully cut a piece of cloth from the bedsheet along the edge, then held the small piece up to the candlelight.
Only then did Ye Yiyun clearly see the tiny wax plum blossoms embroidered on the pure white bedsheet.
She quietly watched Ling Xiaodong fold the small piece of cloth carefully and tuck it into his bosom, without a word of protest.
Her heart felt both pleased that Ling Xiaodong cherished her like a little daughter and shy that this item was now in her son-in-law’s possession.
She pulled the quilt up slightly to cover her face, only leaving a pair of tender, affectionate eyes visible.
Ling Xiaodong slid directly under Ye Yiyun’s quilt, causing the beauty to cry out softly.
“Why are you sleeping in my quilt? Go to your own.”
Ling Xiaodong ignored her, wrapping an arm around Ye Yiyun’s slender waist and pulling her close.
“Ah! Let go! I’m your aunt!”
Ye Yiyun squirmed and twisted restlessly in Ling Xiaodong’s embrace.
Ling Xiaodong pressed his lips to her ear, whispering softly:
“Yun’er, be good. Time to sleep.”
The warm breath brushed against her sensitive neck; his gentle words struck deep into her heart.
Ye Yiyun shivered, then melted like spring water, lying limp in his arms.
Seeing Ye Yiyun finally calm down, Ling Xiaodong slowly told her about his discovery that Mu Qinghe was the Holy Maiden of the Luo Sect and how he had stormed into the Luo Sect in a rage.
Ye Yiyun listened with shock and fear, running her hands gently over Ling Xiaodong’s body.
“You weren’t hurt, right?”
“No, but learning Mu Qinghe is the Luo Sect’s Holy Maiden startled me. I didn’t expect she’d curse you.”
At the thought of Mu Qinghe, Ling Xiaodong’s hatred flared; that woman dared lay hands on Ye Yiyun, nearly costing him Yun’er.
“A curse? What kind of curse?”
Ye Yiyun asked, puzzled.
Now it was Ling Xiaodong’s turn to be confused.
“The curse that drains your yang energy, or so Wuyazi told me.”
Ye Yiyun explained, “I was transformed into that state because of the backlash from the Azure Dragon’s Red Blood Formation, not due to any curse.”
Ling Xiaodong’s mind grew even more tangled.
Not because of Mu Qinghe?
But she was undeniably the Holy Maiden of an evil cult, so what was her true purpose in approaching him? Was Wuyazi lying?
Ling Xiaodong’s already weary brain could no longer process the complex questions; he yawned deeply and decided to ask Wuyazi for clarification tomorrow.
He fell asleep holding Ye Yiyun tightly.
If someone looked down from above Peng City at that moment, they would see the entire city bathed in a faint red glow, with a gigantic blood-red character “鬼” (Ghost) faintly visible.
Red, flowing, viscous, and pungent.
Ling Xiaodong stood in the middle of this eerie lake.
Where was this?
He looked around, confused; the endless lake of red water only reached his knees.
Red water?
Ling Xiaodong scooped up a handful and sniffed; the sharp, rusty metallic smell instantly cleared his mind.
He looked up at the sky; it was misty, with only a blood moon shining brightly.
His spiritual awareness stabbed painfully, alarms ringing in his mind. Suddenly, he jerked awake.
In an instant, he was fully alert—like a person holding their breath underwater finally surfacing.
Ling Xiaodong found himself standing on a street, the full blood moon still overhead.
Looking around, the streets and alleys were filled with men, women, old and young—all with vacant eyes, gazing blankly at the blood moon.
The bizarre scene sent chills down Ling Xiaodong’s spine, but he quickly remembered what mattered most.
Where was Yun’er?
He glanced around and found Ye Yiyun right beside him, easing his mind.
The people on the street seemed to have risen from sleep, some wearing shorts, others only their undershirts, but Ling Xiaodong and Ye Yiyun were fully dressed, having slept in their clothes.
Ling Xiaodong shook Ye Yiyun’s shoulders urgently.
“Yun’er, wake up!”
In desperation, he called out the most natural form of address.
But no matter how much he shouted, Ye Yiyun’s vacant eyes still stared blankly at the blood moon, like a living corpse.
In panic, he recalled the two great divine talismans Ye Yiyun had given him before descending the mountain.
He bit his finger and quickly drew a talisman on Ye Yiyun’s clothing.
“Supreme Stage Star, never ceasing change. Expel evil, bind demons, protect life and body. Wisdom clear, spirit calm. Three souls eternal, no loss of soul’s essence. As swift as law’s decree!”
As the Purification Spirit Talisman took effect, light returned to Ye Yiyun’s eyes.
She looked around in bewilderment, not yet understanding what had happened.
“Yun’er, are you awake?”
“Where is this?”
“This is the main street of Peng City,” Ling Xiaodong answered.
Ye Yiyun snapped fully to attention, watching the eerie crowd cautiously, then glanced up at the blood-red moon.
She gasped, “The Ghost Emperor’s Devouring Moon Spirit Formation!”
Ye Yiyun had read about this formation in an ancient text.
It was a cruel necromantic method used by evil ghost cultivators; the formation required tens of thousands of souls to feed the blood moon.
Then, the ghost emperor trained by the ghost cultivators would devour the blood moon, with the ghost emperor’s evil energy colliding with the resentment of those souls to neutralize each other, leaving behind the purest spirit form.
At that moment, the ghost cultivator could seize this powerful spirit form and, regardless of their previous realm, instantly ascend into the Bagua Realm.
But because this formation defied the natural way too severely, records said it had long been destroyed in the world—so how could it appear in Peng City?
“Ha ha ha ha ha!”
A mad laugh echoed from the city center, booming like thunder and clearly heard throughout Peng City.
An old man with white hair and beard stood astride a bat wreathed in dark red flames, soaring into the sky.
“I, Wuyazi, shall attain the Way today! Once I reach Bagua, what can the Imperial Advisor do to me?”
Ye Yiyun and Ling Xiaodong exclaimed together, “Wuyazi!”
They never expected that kind-faced Wuyazi was the mastermind behind it all.
“Auntie Yun, what should we do now?”
Ye Yiyun’s face turned ashen.
“The formation has already activated. This place has become a little world outside the original heaven and earth. Unless Wuyazi’s physical body is slain, this formation will not stop.”
But Wuyazi had already flown tens of thousands of feet into the sky atop the ghost king.
Judging by the distance, even a twelve-stone hard bow couldn’t reach his sleeve.
The only ones who could resolve this were cultivators at the Bagua Realm.
It was a dead end.
“Just kill him?”
Ling Xiaodong felt his waist and realized the sword that should have been hanging there was left behind in the inn.
He slammed his fist on the ground; the bluestone tiles instantly cracked.
Ling Xiaodong sifted through the rubble and picked up a suitable stone.
He closed one eye, aimed, and hurled the stone with all his might.
Nothing happened.
“What are you doing?”
Ye Yiyun was confused by Ling Xiaodong’s strange behavior—throwing stones at a critical moment?
Ling Xiaodong smiled confidently.
“Just let the stone fly a bit longer.”
Suddenly, Wuyazi screamed from midair and began falling.
Ling Xiaodong squinted, frowning.
Had he missed?
He had clearly aimed for Wuyazi’s head but hit his leg.
Unbeknownst to him, the ghost king bat’s consciousness sensed its master’s danger and barely dodged, letting Wuyazi narrowly avoid a fatal blow.
“Yun’er, stay here and don’t wander off!”
With that, Ling Xiaodong rushed toward where Wuyazi was falling.
Ye Yiyun called after him from behind, “Be careful!”
Her delicate face flushed slightly—how odd that she, his senior aunt, was fussing over him like a child.
Wuyazi plummeted rapidly, the ground rushing closer—about to be shattered into pieces.
At that moment, the ghost bat unleashed a secret technique, sacrificing massively to gain a burst of speed, catching Wuyazi just before he hit the ground.
Exhausted, it retreated back into its spiritual aperture.
“Who’s there!”
Wuyazi collapsed onto the ground, barely alive but with broken legs and ribs.
Broken bones pierced his lungs; every breath was excruciating torture.
“Wuyazi, you’ve truly made me chase in circles!”
From the shadows, Ling Xiaodong’s figure slowly approached.
“You’re the ghost cultivator behind this in Peng City, aren’t you? You’re the one who drained Auntie Yun’s yang energy. Looks like I blamed Mu Qinghe unfairly.”
His tone was teasing, but his eyes burned with killing intent.
He had no intention of letting the mastermind who harmed Auntie Yun die easily.
“Ha ha ha ha! Cough, cough…”
Wuyazi laughed madly despite his desperate situation, tearing open his lung wounds and coughing up blood.
“So what if I deceived you? That woman named Qingfeng is probably dead by now. Are you in pain?”
Crack!
Ling Xiaodong stomped on one of Wuyazi’s intact arms, breaking it.
Suppressing his urge to kill him with a single punch, Ling Xiaodong coldly said:
“You don’t need to know whether I’m in pain. All you need to know is that you’re about to suffer unbearable agony.”
Wuyazi’s eyes turned blood red as he raved:
“You brat, do you really think you’ve won? I’ll take you and all of Peng City down with me!”
With that, a faint shadow left Wuyazi’s broken body and shot toward the blood moon in the sky.
On the ground, Wuyazi’s eyes dulled; his head slumped—now nothing more than a corpse.
Ling Xiaodong gazed at the blood moon with mounting unease.
The blood moon, once hanging silently in the sky, suddenly shuddered, its blood-red glow surging fiercely and shrinking in size.
“Xiaodong, it’s not good! The moon is about to explode!”
Ye Yiyun hurriedly ran over from the other side of Peng City, breathless and alarmed.
Ling Xiaodong looked at the panting Yun’er and asked urgently:
“What’s happening?”
Ye Yiyun pointed at the shrinking blood moon, her voice trembling:
“Wuyazi is using his soul as a catalyst to detonate the entire blood moon! When that happens, everyone inside this formation will die!”
The moon in the sky had shrunk to a tiny point, but the crimson light grew more brilliant, shrouding all of Peng City in blood-red.
Ling Xiaodong asked frantically, “What should we do then?”
Ye Yiyun looked up at the sky, her face pale and desperate:
“It’s already too late!”
Boom!
The blood moon exploded, transforming into a boundless crimson tide that surged toward Peng City below.
At that moment, a clear and ethereal female voice rang out from beyond the sky.
“Stop!”
The blood tide suddenly halted in midair, retreating back beyond the heavens until it vanished completely.
“Useless disciple! I told you not to run off, and now I have to come save the day!”