"Don't come over! Don't come over——"
"Help!!"
The torrential rain pounded down, thunder cracked loudly, and the wind chimes hanging from the eaves shook violently. The woman's fearful and anguished screams, mixed with the sound of shredded clothing, were drowned out by the violent rain curtain.
The sharp cries, along with the sound of the broken wind chimes, drifted into the dark ancestral hall behind the mansion courtyard.
After entering Xie Xuanyi's ears, they were left with only a faint, muffled rumble.
"Uh..."
A pained groan escaped.
Xie Xuanyi slowly opened his eyes.
Pitch black.
The whole world was pitch black, and so was his mind.
People who have slept for a long time are probably like this.
Then... came intense pain.
Xie Xuanyi furrowed his brow, silently enduring the knife-like agony in his head. He subconsciously tried to sit up, his hands bracing against the "bed", only for his forehead to be knocked sharply the next moment. Seeing stars, he lay back down, and the world before his eyes gradually returned to its original color.
Still black.
But this time, the "black" was different from the previous "black".
The previous "black" was nothingness, was chaos, was death.
But now, the "black" was just darkness, without light.
Only then did Xie Xuanyi realize that what was beneath him wasn't a "bed" at all. This space was so cramped and narrow that even turning over wasn't allowed...
He was lying in a coffin.
Perhaps it was the knock that caused the pain in Xie Xuanyi's head to gradually fade away, as fragments of memory began to surface.
"Am I... actually still alive?"
Chased by enemies, buried in the North Sea, his world was cold and pitch black as his consciousness blurred.
This coffin for the dead.
It was fitting enough to hold him...
Taking a deep breath, Xie Xuanyi extended one hand and forcefully pushed open the coffin lid. After a muted thud, the lid slid to the ground, and Xie Xuanyi slowly sat up from the long coffin. The dim ancestral hall flickered with candlelight, the wind from outside blew gently, causing the candle flame to bow low for a moment, nearly extinguished.
It also caused the bronze mirror hanging from a red string in front of the hall to sway as if it would fall.
"..."
Xie Xuanyi quietly observed the swaying bronze mirror.
Although the ancestral hall was dim, he could still see the reflection in the mirror.
It showed a young and pale face, at least ten years younger than his memory of himself... it was probably just a teenager of fifteen or sixteen. The youth in the mirror seemed more handsome than his younger self - his sword-like eyebrows reached his temples, and his phoenix eyes exuded authority, but he also looked more haggard.
Even though the mirror was rusty and the image blurry and mottled, Xie Xuanyi could still feel the morose air of twilight death emanating from every part of his body.
Is this really me?
Xie Xuanyi looked down at his own palms, devoid of callouses, as smooth as jade, almost like the hands of a woman who had never wielded a sword.
The ancestral hall was dim, but it was decorated with many large red lanterns, giving a sense of festivity... except now, with the lanterns extinguished, it appeared exceptionally desolate and dark.
Xie Xuanyi looked around, his hands bracing against the edge of the coffin, and he stepped down to the ground, his bare feet on the thick layers of paper money.
Rustle, rustle.
The freshly stained snow-white "silver note" was picked up by the wind and slapped against Xie Xuanyi's body.
Peeling off one to take a look, a vein popped on Xie Xuanyi's forehead.
These "silver notes" had phrases like "Forever Joined in Friendship" and "Together Until Our Hair Turns White" written neatly on them in seal script. Could this hall of spirits actually be a wedding hall?
Not far away was a coffin, whose decorations and engravings clearly matched one for himself.
Could it be that he was... getting bound in a yin marriage?
What in the world?
Before Xie Xuanyi could make sense of the situation, a gust of wind suddenly roared in front of the spirit hall, and this time he heard it clearly.
In the curtain of rain, there were the sounds of stumbling footsteps getting closer, along with the cries and sobs that grew increasingly louder.
"Is anyone there? Save me... save me..."
And a voice of scornful disdain.
"Keep shouting! Even if you scream your throat hoarse, no one will come!"
...
...
The wind howled backward and the rain poured down furiously.
The Deng Family mansion was especially bleak today, the entire household suffused with an atmosphere of grim silence. A young woman, now pale and with torn clothes, clutched at her chest with one hand, staggering toward the back courtyard.
Behind her, a towering and robust figure with a cold sneer followed at a leisurely pace, occasionally quickening his steps to move closer, stretching out a clawed hand to rip a piece of her garment—an act like playing a game of cat and mouse.
After a brief moment, only tatters remained on the woman's body, exposing much of her skin.
Eventually, the woman fell heavily at the threshold of the spirit hall, tears wetting her lovely makeup, and she cried out in a heart-wrenching voice, "Tu Fei! I'm already married! Why can't you let me go!"
"Married?"
The robust figure stood still in the darkness.
"This is a spirit hall, and the person you're marrying is dead."
He spoke slowly, his voice ice cold, "Marrying someone who is dead... is that what you call marriage?"
The woman looked up at the towering figure, tears streaming down her cheeks as she asked with a bitter laugh, "If the dead are not people, then are you a person?"
With that said,
The robust figure slowly walked out of the darkness, revealing a face covered in mane and looking ferocious.
This was not a person.
It was a Great Demon in human form!
"Take advantage of the fact that I haven't started a killing spree; all is not yet lost. If you have a change of heart, the people of the Deng Family, including your father, can still be saved."
Tu Fei glanced in the direction from whence he came.
The reason for the silence in the main hall was that he had tied up all the Deng Family's servants and gagged them.
About twenty or so people in all.
Twenty lives.
Tu Fei spoke dimly, "Deng Baiyi, you should know that my fancying you is your good fortune. Your father is truly becoming more muddled with age, willing to believe a Taoist's broken prophecy, paying a hefty sum for a coffin to engage you to a yin marriage, rather than accepting this great fortune!"
"..."
The woman no longer spoke but simply lowered her head, resigned to her fate, whether to live or to be slaughtered.
The atmosphere in the mansion grew increasingly cold.
Tu Fei gradually lost his patience, and his pupils flashed with disappointment and anger.
Moments later, the woman still did not raise her head.
Tu Fei said coldly, "So... you would rather marry a dead man than marry me?"
The woman clutched her knees tightly, not raising her head or opening her mouth.
In fact, this was her answer.
"Very well!"
Tu Fei, getting his answer, expressionless and with a cold laugh, reached out and pressed his hand against a column beside him.
Boom!
The column, thick enough for a grown man to embrace, suddenly burst into a web of cracks. The next moment, it was ripped from the ground by the Great Demon and turned into a long spear, hurtling towards the woman's head—
That strike, immense in its momentum, would shatter the soul into nothingness even if one had three lives to spare upon impact.
But just as the column smashed down.
Deng Baiyi seemed to hear a light, ethereal voice coming from the hall of spirits; she even doubted if she had misheard.
The voice was young, pleasant to the ear, but also weak.
It said,
"Wait—"
As if imbued with magic power, the massive column truly "waited a moment".
Deng Baiyi lifted her head, staring blankly at the wooden column suspended before her, inches away, along with the cascading debris. Coming back to her senses, she realized this was no coincidence; a pale, gaunt hand, paler even than her own skin, was lightly pressed against the broken end of the column.
"???"
Tu Fei's pupils contracted, his body hair standing on end, looking incredulously towards the depths of the spirit hall. Tonight, the rain was heavy, and the wind was stronger; the candles in this hall had long been extinguished. He had glanced over earlier and even swept the area with his Soul Power but had felt no "living" life force.
But now... What was going on?
Haunted!
The intuition of a Demon Cultivator sent a message into Tu Fei's Heart Lake, and as he looked towards the dark depths, he could only make out a gaunt, pale hand... Silent fear spread across his heart.
Wait, fear?
Was there really a ghost opposite him?
What a joke. He was a demon; how could he be afraid of ghosts?!
Suddenly shaking his head, Tu Fei threw these messy thoughts to the back of his mind and roared angrily, "Who are you?!"
Within the hall of spirits, there was only a light sigh.
The slender figure in the dark did not speak as if the question just asked was very difficult, requiring a long time to ponder...
While pondering, he stretched out his hand to gently press against the broken column, subconsciously stepping forward.
"Crack!"
Tu Fei's hair stood on end, feeling as if he were facing a fierce beast from ancient times!
In a single encounter, the ground where Tu Fei's feet stood suddenly collapsed!
"Thump thump thump!"
He pressed almost his entire weight down, but still couldn't stop retreating. In a few breaths, the Great Demon uncontrollably retreated several yards, his feet carving a long trench in the ground.
"Are you human or ghost?"
This roar, seven parts anger and three parts fear, echoed throughout the mansion.
At the same time, a bolt of lightning struck down, instantly illuminating the interior and exterior of the mansion like daytime. The gaunt figure in the shadows had just taken the final step out of the spirit hall, stepping into a puddle, and the fragmented silhouette reflected a handsome face devoid of color.
"I suppose... I am human?"
The young man awoke from his memories like passing clouds, apologizing with a smile, explaining, "Well, I am the 'dead man' you just mentioned."
The youth had heard all of the previous conversation?
Tu Fei stared intensely at the young man, who was shorter than his own chest, with a face that alternated between clear and stormy expressions.
This is a human?
He looked no more than fifteen or sixteen, yet had the strength of a wild ox... Even the prodigious disciples from the great sects didn't have such physical prowess at this age, did they?
What puzzled Tu Fei the most was which god would have so much free time to lie in a coffin and play dead?
Taking a deep breath, Tu Fei decided to avoid the sharp edge.
He put away his earlier arrogance, his voice hoarse and exceedingly polite, "I am Tu Fei, a disciple of Yin Mountain's heavy mists. May I ask who exactly your esteemed self is, do you have a name?"
The young man shook his head.
Tu Fei paused for a second.
Shaking his head... what did that mean? No name? Or?
The young man sighed with feeling, "Yin Mountain, that is indeed a great sect..."
Tu Fei's face had just begun to form a smile when it instantly froze.
The next moment.
The young man's voice grew cold and piercing, "The one thing I hate the most is Yin Mountain."
"???"
Tu Fei froze, a twinge in his brow, a sense of unease compelling him to turn and flee.
But it was too late.
In the next instant, something seemed to fly out from the dimly lit spirit hall. He had no chance to see it clearly, nor the ability to do so.
Slash!
A sound crisper than the ripping of fabric echoed in the courtyard!
Tu Fei's head was penetrated in an instant!
At the forehead, a blood cavity the size of a baby's fist appeared.
"Where did that... Flying Sword come from?"
The Great Demon, with a look of bewilderment, had his lingering consciousness prompting him to slowly turn around.
He took only one step before collapsing with a thunderous fall.
In front of him, ten yards away, a three-foot Peach Wood Sword was lodged into the banyan tree, vibrating and ringing, with only the hilt showing.
After being initiated into the practice, Cultivators must devote immense focus and endure countless hardships to refine and subdue an artifact as their own Lifebound Artifact.
The Lifebound Artifact of Sword Cultivators is the Flying Sword.
But this Peach Wood Sword... seemed very ordinary, with nothing remarkable about it.
"Picked it up casually in the spirit hall."
The young man in plain clothes, calmly approached the banyan tree, nonchalantly pulled out the three-inches-deep Peach Wood Sword, squatted in front of the Great Demon, and said softly, "But to kill you, it is sufficient."