Blood was spilling, but the tears were like a calm river, and a smile bloomed on their face.
"At last! The ghost general is defeated!"
Hundreds of cultivators erupted in jubilation as the ruthless and cruel ghost general fell into the abyss. Yet, a young man dressed in black with a phoenix embroidered on his robe knelt at the edge of the cliff, his tears a stark contrast to the joyous scene unfolding around him.
"I'm sorry. I was too late," he said
But his only response was the silence of the abyss.
Fifteen years later.
"He can't be dead, right? Go... go check to see if he is still breathing."
"Xiaojie, he... he's not breathing..."
"N... no, that can't be! I didn't kill him! Quick, let's get out of here!"
Multiple footsteps could be heard retreating, but they didn't know who was making all that noise.
"Who... who died," they thought.
Slowly, the person opened their eyes, but with the pain spreading throughout their body, their vision was nothing but a cloud of tears. Forcing the body to sit up, the person finally had a better sight of their surrounding. Although the room was meant to be a woodshed, all around was blood from their clothes to the floor, making it seem more like a slaughterhouse instead.
"Aren't I dead? How come I'm alive?"
Looking down at their hands and clothes, they could tell this wasn't their body. The body dressed in baggy men's clothing was much smaller, and the callouses on the hands were from years of hard labor, not years of wielding a sword. When the adrenaline had died down, the searing pain on their face came to light. Slowly bringing their fingers to their face, they could feel the heat coming off and a fresh scar on their cheek. Hissing in pain, they glanced down to their side and saw an iron branding stick and a bin containing burning coal.
They let out a sigh and thought, The owner of this body doesn't seem to be treated very well.
Mustering up all their energy, the person stood up and dragged themselves outside. The courtyard outside was empty. Only dead leaves kept the ground company. With no water in sight, the person headed back inside to see if there were any clues that could help them figure out their situation. Leaving the door open, the light from outside flooded in, bringing life into the woodshed. As the person began to explore the tiny room, they found that the bloody mess on the floor was a soul-summoning formation, and in the corner of the room was a bunch of crumpled-up wads of paper. Dragging their heavy body, they made their way over and picked them up. The dark red color and heavy metallic stench made it evident that the letters were written using blood.
The letters weren't addressed to anyone in particular but rather were a dairy of the body's owner. The body's owner was the niece of the family's patriarch. Their mother, the youngest child of a merchant family, was sold to a wealthy cultivation clan leader as a concubine by her older brother when the family was in debt. After the girl was born, she and her mother were treated like servants in the clan. Each day, they were worked to the bone, and her father never spared a glance at her and her mother. Yet, she was grateful for her days with her mother and thankful to her father's lawful wife. Although the madam did not like them, she did not abuse or cause them any harm. She and her son simply ignored them.
Inheriting her mother's beauty, the girl soon attracted many suitors. Even though she was an illegitimate child, marrying her would still greatly help the groom's family. The dowery she would bring would be enough to feed a poor family for at least 10 years. By 14, the girl began to hear more rumors of her marriage being decided. Her worries were washed away by her mother, who assured her it was just rumors. Although later than expected, by age 20, her marriage was indeed fixed, and neither she nor her mother had a say. But this time, her mother did not sit back and comfort her. Instead, she went to talk to her father. Yet, who could have imagined that the day her mother left to speak to her father was the last time she would see her again.
Although the girl did not see her mother for the next few days, it wasn't entirely out of the ordinary for her to worry as they were often sent to work in different parts of the clan. However, rumors began to spread about her death. Upon hearing from the other disciples in the clan, the girl froze in horror. Before her mother even got a chance to talk to her father, the madam had human traffickers take her mother to a brothel. Unwilling to be dishonored, her mother broke free and jumped off a cliff. Running to her father, she hoped to receive a different answer, only to be met with his indifferent expression telling her that her mother was dead and that she should move on and prepare for her wedding. The girl tried to reason with her father and have the marriage delayed so that she could mourn her mother's death. However, he rejected the idea and had her dragged out. As she was being dragged out, she saw her half-brother and a look of pity on his face. Unable to hold back the pain anymore, she snapped and ran to the cliff where her mother jumped. The only thing that was left was her mother's right shoe. Crying as she held onto her shoe, she was soon taken back to the clan.
Heartbroken, the girl began to go crazy and would scream and hit anyone who came near her. Soon, the news spread, and people started calling her a madman. This quickly led to the annulment of her betrothal. Not long after the annulment, the girl was kicked out of the clan, and with nowhere to go, she returned to her mother's birth family, where the abuse and torture began.
With support from her father's clan, her uncle's family soon became wealthy and successful. So, when she arrived at their front door dressed like a madman, the family was not happy or welcoming. Locked away in the woodshed, she suffered from the beating and abuse from her biao ge and biao jie. Gradually, the girl lost the will to live but still wanted revenge on those who made her and her mother suffer. In her last attempt, she decided to try out a soul-summoning spell that she had secretly read from the clan's library. The spell allowed the user to summon any vicious spirit of their choice in exchange for their own soul. The spirit would take over the owner's body and complete the revenge that the host desires.
Unfortunately, the person did not have a list of people to take revenge on, nor the memories of the owner. All they had were the letters, a messed up formation, and an assumption that the owner had died during the torture before completing the summoning, seeing as they were now in the owner's body but didn't have the necessary information. Glancing down at the formation again, it dawned on the person that the soul-summoning formation was no ordinary spell. In fact, it was the cruelest and most painful soul-summoning spell of all, known as Wrath Ritual. If the spirit summoned failed to complete one of the revenge within the first three months, its own soul would slowly and painfully be melted away. However, their time would be extended if they completed one within the first three months. Yet, that wasn't the end for the spirit. Once every month on a full moon, the spirit would experience immense pain as a reminder of their unfulfilled job. A pain that was worse than going through the depths of hell and back. Once the revenge is fulfilled, the spirit will be free to live in the host's body until they die.
As information about the spell came flowing back to the person, they quickly pulled open their clothes and saw a tattoo of a blood-red lotus imprinted under their collarbone. The lotus had a total of six petals, each representing a revenge. With all the new information, the person now had an idea of who they needed to take care of. However, they still couldn't help but sigh.
"I have been dead for fifteen years. Why did you have to choose me?"
After a moment, they looked at the bloody mess on the floor and said.
"But then again, who wouldn't want the ruthless and cruel ghost general to take revenge for them..."