The general left after promising that they would go to the Ancestral Hall first thing in the morning.
As soon as Feng Rui was alone, he eagerly checked his status, as excited as a child on New Year's Eve. However, what he discovered was enough to send a chill down his spine.
He had advanced to the second realm of demonic cultivation.
"Damn it…" he muttered, running a hand down his face.
This didn't make any sense. He had absorbed some malignant energy, sure, but not intentionally. And certainly not through proper training. At least, not enough to jump to the next level so fast. And yet, his ghostly core—aka his evil pearl—was now throbbing with a sinister vitality. Unlike when the World Tree Seed purified it, the corrupt energy flowed naturally through his body, and his affinity with the dead had increased drastically.
"Oi, Yggdrasil, is this pearl supposed to look like that?"
Silence.
"World Tree Seed?"
"…Little World Tree?"
"..."
No answer.
It was official.
If this were a demonic sect, he would already be considered an inner disciple.
And the worst part? He hadn't even tried.
How many cultivators would vomit blood and cry without tears in their hearts upon finding out?
Feng Rui closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to make sense of the situation.
For starters, the ghost energy crystals they fed him were treated like mere cabbages in this household. As if they weren't high-grade spiritual treasures capable of rapidly advancing demonic cultivation.
Not to mention, he had absorbed demonic energy from his grandfather, purified malignant and ghostly energy from his courtyard, and had been in this kind of environment for who knows how long.
The original Feng Rui's memories simply weren't reliable.
At this rate…
"If I'm already walking the path of demonic cultivation, why settle for being just a disciple?"
Power was power.
If this world wanted to push him onto this path, then so be it.
If he had to face demonic sects in this life, why not infiltrate their structure from within?
It's not like he was going to become the Celestial Demon or anything… right?
Feng Rui smirked.
But before planning a suicidal infiltration, he needed to get stronger.
With that in mind, he left his room and...
The atmosphere was suffocating.
Ominous and eerie.
It looked like one of those high-level undead dungeons.
Maybe his house really was one.
Distorted shadows moved along the walls, ethereal whispers floated in the air, and an unnatural chill seeped into his bones.
At first glance, anyone would think they had stepped into a cursed land.
But the worst part?
Even if he didn't want to admit it…
For Feng Rui, this already felt almost normal.
Wandering ghosts drifted in the dark corners, whispering in a language he was starting to understand. Some even seemed almost friendly—until they transformed, baring claws and fangs.
And those were his prey tonight.
Spirits trapped between life and death.
Too weak to become demons, too persistent to disappear.
Mere lingering obsessions.
Feng Rui licked his lips and stretched out his hand, letting the malignant energy flow freely through his body.
The purification began.
Just like with his grandfather, he absorbed the residual energy from the ghosts and channeled it into his core.
But he wasn't simply eliminating them.
It was a meticulous process, like unraveling a tangled thread, he needed to separate the corruption from the fragments of soul that could still be freed.
He wanted to test whether he could truly release the souls this way.
The ghosts' screams echoed, one by one vanishing at his touch.
Feng Rui continued until there wasn't a single specter left in his courtyard.
Even the air felt lighter.
When everything was over, he stood in the center of the courtyard, basking in the absolute silence, double-checking that nothing had been left behind.
He then searched for a place where the malignant energy swirled most densely.
Sitting cross-legged, he began to cultivate.
The malignant energy surrounded him, spiraling in chaotic currents, but his body absorbed it as if it were made for him.
The night passed like that until the early dawn light began to dye the sky.
That's when he decided to return to his room.
After all, he couldn't afford to raise suspicion with the general or the mansion's servants.
He collapsed onto the bed, shutting his eyes with the intention of resting for a while before sunrise.
But when he opened them again…
…his body was still lying in bed.
Feng Rui floated in midair, staring at himself with a mix of confusion and horror.
"Wait. Wait. What's wrong with this picture?"
He looked down at his translucent hands.
Then at his motionless body.
He remained silent for a long moment.
And then, with bitter resignation, let out a deep sigh.
"…Ah. I died again, didn't I?"
Soon, the sound of hurried footsteps broke the silence of the room.
The servant in charge of bringing his medicine arrived punctually, as always.
"Young master, I brought your medicine."
No response.
The servant frowned before opening the door.
"Young master, it's time to take your medicine."
Silence.
Feeling uneasy, he took a few steps toward the bed.
"Young mas—"
He froze.
Feng Rui's skin was pale, too pale. His chest wasn't rising or falling. His body lay completely motionless.
A chill ran down the servant's spine.
"Young master…?"
He stepped closer, extending a trembling hand to touch him.
Cold.
Too cold.
His heart lurched.
His eyes widened before full-blown panic set in.
Feng Rui covered his ears.
"HELP! THE YOUNG MASTER… THE YOUNG MASTER IS DEAD!"
The scream echoed through the courtyard.
Within seconds, chaos erupted.
Servants rushed through the hallways, doors were flung open, and the physician was dragged into the room without warning.
Floating like a ghost above his own lifeless body, Feng Rui watched the scene unfold with utter resignation.
'Again…'
Exactly like last time.
The physician checked his body, shook his head grimly, and as if performing a rehearsed routine, they began the "treatment."
They drew a seal beneath his body, administered the same medicines, elixirs, pills…
And, at the end, brought out the Phantom Energy Crystal.
Feng Rui grimaced.
If they gave him another crystal… what would happen to him this time?
He had already advanced to another cultivation realm without realizing it. At this rate, he'd end up as an elder of a demonic sect, cursing people just by breathing.
'Can I refuse? No, wait, can I escape my own body?'
Before he could think of a solution, the familiar sensation of being pulled took hold.
Darkness swallowed him, his consciousness flipped—
And then, he opened his eyes again.
General Han stood by his bedside, staring down at him with an unreadable expression.
Doubt, distrust, and perhaps even a hint of concern.
"…Are you alright?"
Feng Rui blinked.
This was a hassle, so he used the oldest trick in the book: amnesia.
Quickly, he put on a nonchalant smile.
"Father? Did you come to take me to the Ancestral Hall?"
The general narrowed his eyes.
Feigning ignorance, Feng Rui looked around in mock confusion.
"Why is everyone gathered here?"
The silence stretched for a moment.
Then, the general sighed.
"…Nothing. Let's go to the Ancestral Hall."
Feng Rui smiled, acting as if nothing had happened.
But inside, a nonexistent cold sweat covered his back.
'I really need to figure out how to stop dying.'