UCS Chapter 148

Chapter 148

 

Namo Gatling Buddha—Great Mercy, Great Compassion—ferrying ten thousand ghosts to the Pure Land.

 

Gao Gusheng opened fire, sweeping all before him. Every bullet spewing from the barrel had been consecrated; wherever they flew, golden light shimmered, scriptures resounded, and the radiance of the Buddha shone forth.

 

Gao Shi had always doted on his son; Gao Gusheng’s Qiankun bag was stocked with everything imaginable—from pistols to Gatling guns, from grenades to “Italian cannons.” When Gao Gusheng unleashed his full power, the Ghost Realm instantly transformed into a branch of a temple of golden light; every malevolent spirit—previously baring fangs and claws—suddenly radiated an aura of compassion, serenity, and transcendence, pressing their palms together as they peacefully entered the cycle of reincarnation.

 

They departed in perfect tranquility.

 

Zhang Wenxuan, however, looked anything but tranquil.

 

For the beauty before him—the one Mo Hua had always shielded fiercely behind his back, the slender beauty constantly fought over by a host of scumbag suitors—turned out to possess formidable strength.

 

Gao Gusheng casually tossed the Maxim heavy machine gun he had been holding onto the ground; the earth itself seemed to shudder at the impact.

 

With his features radiating a bold, unbridled intensity and a fierce, vibrant vitality—resembling nothing so much as a sturdy, upright young poplar tree—Gao Gusheng left Zhang Wenxuan momentarily breathless. In that split second, Zhang missed his best chance to react.

 

In the blink of an eye, Gao Gusheng appeared right before him, a savage grin on his face. Zhang Wenxuan, still harboring a desperate hope of subduing his opponent, began to chant: “Heaven and Earth…”

 

The Celestial Master was struck down before he could even finish his incantation; Gao Gusheng’s fist slammed into Zhang’s chin. Amidst a thunderous crash, it seemed as though everyone could hear the sound of Zhang Wenxuan’s jawbone cracking. “Stop dragging your feet!”

 

Zhang Wenxuan’s anger flared, his words slurred: “You…”

 

“We’re in a fight—who the hell is going to give you time to leisurely draw a talisman?”

 

“You bas— *Argh!*”

 

“With a wind-up time that long, you didn’t even have something prepped? Do you think you’re the protagonist, getting invincibility frames during a transformation sequence?”

 

“You brat, dare to wait until I finish drawing the talis— *Argh!*”

 

“Left hook!”

 

“Five Elements of Heaven and Ear—”

 

“Right hook!”

 

“Golden Light of Myri—”

 

“Uppercut!”

 

“You bas— *Argh!*”

 

“Hiyah!”

 

You… you bastard!

 

Zhang Wenxuan was a prodigy who had been pampered all his life; aside from the slap he received at birth, he had never taken a beating this brutal!

 

He had initially found the youth before him to his liking and intended to grant him a relatively painless death, but now, consumed by rage, he cast all such considerations aside.

 

Commanding the “Feiyu” was far simpler than drawing a talisman; a red gleam flashed in the artifact’s “eye,” and it transformed into a cloud-like form, charging forward!

 

“Xiao Sheng!” Yun Zhiyi hurled her dagger at Feiyu’s weak point, but she was utterly spent, and the blade missed its mark.

 

Gao Gusheng was just about to hoist Zhang Wenxuan up to use as a human shield when, in the next instant, a figure stepped directly in front of the Feiyu.

 

“Uncle Huang!”

 

Delighted, Gao Gusheng punched Zhang Wenxuan twice more for good measure.

 

Huang Shan, however, wore a grave expression; he stood his ground against the Feiyu, gripping a specially crafted fountain pen.

 

Ran Qiu pinpointed Gao Gusheng’s location and hurriedly transmitted the coordinates to headquarters. His heart sank as he looked at Mo Hua and Yun Zhiyi on the ground; he realized that despite their numerical advantage, they were likely no match for Zhang Wenxuan—unable to withstand even a single exchange.

 

Ran Qiu grabbed his medical kit and, with grim determination, hastily splinted his broken leg before hopping out of the vehicle on one leg to bandage Mo Hua.

 

Yun Zhiyi’s injuries consisted mainly of abrasions and an intrusion of yin energy; while the latter was troublesome, it was a trivial matter for the likes of Ying Bujie or Gao Shi to resolve with a single talisman. Mo Hua’s condition, however, was horrific: his legs had been gnawed down to the bone from the knees down, and he had lost half of each hand. The white bone had lost all vitality; having been thoroughly corroded by yin energy while surrounded by the horde of ghosts, it crumbled into a heap of cold, dark ash at the slightest touch.

 

For a moment, Ran Qiu didn’t even know how to go about bandaging the wound.

 

But just as he was at a loss, Mo Hua slowly opened his eyes. “Gu…”

 

Ran Qiu hurriedly held him down. “I’m here, I’m here. Lele is fine—don’t move around.”

 

Mo Hua looked toward Gao Gusheng; seeing that Gao Gusheng was unharmed—and even witnessing him happily kick Zhang Wenxuan twice upon seeing Mo Hua wake up—he let out a sigh of relief.

 

Ran Qiu said, “Young man, you… you…”

 

He wanted to ask where Mo Hua was in pain, but looking at Mo Hua’s condition, it was obvious he was hurting all over; the words caught in his throat, unspoken.

 

The nearest hospital was an hour and a half away; it would be faster to simply wait for the main team to arrive.

 

Mo Hua spoke up instead: “I’m fine.”

 

He pursed his lips as he met Ran Qiu’s compassionate gaze.

 

He wasn’t trying to comfort Ran Qiu; he knew his condition was likely critical, yet for some reason…

 

He glanced at his own stark-white hand bones.

 

…

 

Ran Qiu knew his own limitations: he was practically useless in a fight—especially now with a broken leg—and if danger struck, he could only serve as a human shield for the children to buy a little time. Lele seemed to have had some sort of miraculous encounter, actually managing to pin Zhang Wenxuan to the ground and beat him, but Huang Shan was certainly no match for Feiyu.

 

If Zhang Wenxuan were to issue an order to slaughter everyone before he died, no one present—Gao Gusheng included—would likely survive.

 

Feiyu might have a foul temper, but his strength was unquestionable. Everyone realized exactly what he had just thought of, and the situation instantly reached a stalemate.

 

Gao Gusheng decisively snatched a military knife from his spatial storage and pressed it against Zhang Wenxuan’s throat.

 

“Release your control over him.”

 

Zhang Wenxuan smiled as he coughed up blood, reaching out to grab the blade. “Useless talk.”

 

“I am the only one who holds the key to that spirit flower; my life is worth far more than yours—or to put it another way, even if I die, the control over the Kunpeng won’t simply vanish. So, even if you kill me, I can still order him to slaughter every single one of you.”

 

Zhang Wenxuan finally regained the satisfaction of being in total control. “How about you just surrender quietly? Then I’ll let the Kunpeng spare your friends.”

 

“And that one over there…”

 

Pinned to the floor, battered and bruised, Zhang Wenxuan still maintained an air of arrogant superiority. Dragging the back of his head against the ground, he turned to look at Huang Shan. “I know who you are.”

 

“My master spent ages tracking the Kunpeng bloodline. Back then, he exhausted all his spiritual energy and ruined his own foundation trying to turn that bloodline into a puppet. He died in the end, but I was the one who benefited—I managed to imprint my mark onto its soul.”

 

“Unfortunately, the Kunpeng bloodline was too powerful; it backlashed against me, forcing me to spend years recovering.”

 

“After I emerged from seclusion, I found the slumbering Kunpeng and examined its memories…”

 

At these words, murderous intent flared openly in Huang Shan’s eyes.

 

No wonder Feiyu’s periods of slumber had become irregular later on, preventing the Kunpeng bloodline from fully awakening or the ancestral memories from being completely inherited—it was Zhang Wenxuan’s doing all along!

 

Huang Shan made a move, only to be blocked once again by the expressionless Feiyu. Watching their interaction—and seemingly unbothered by the dagger pressed against his throat—Zhang Wenxuan said to Gao Gusheng, “Look, what a devoted pair. If I were to order Kunpeng to brutally slaughter Huang Shan, would he be so overcome with grief upon regaining his senses that he’d take his own life?”

 

Huang Shan kept his eyes fixed on Feiyu as he said coldly, “Lele, I can hold off Feiyu’s attacks for fifteen minutes—that’s enough time for you all to retreat. Also, ignore whatever this Celestial Master says; cripple him if you can. If you can’t control the force of your blows… for the sake of safety, you may…” Huang Shan paused, exhaling softly. “You may kill him.”

 

Gao Gusheng had never seen Huang Shan like this; he was cold and sharp, almost like a blade of ice.

 

Huang Shan felt a twinge of guilt—not toward Zhang Wenxuan, of course, but toward Gao Gusheng.

 

If he could help it, he didn’t want a child to witness bloodshed.

 

Gao Gusheng stared intently at Huang Shan for a moment before shifting his gaze to Zhang Wenxuan—that fool was still putting on an air of expecting them to beg him for mercy.

 

Gao Gusheng suddenly smiled and called out, “Don’t worry, Uncle Huang—I know exactly what I’m doing!”

 

He pulled the dagger back, and just as a flash of delight crossed Zhang Wenxuan’s eyes, he drove the blade hard into Zhang Wenxuan’s shoulder!

 

“Aaaargh!”

 

Far worse than the physical pain for Zhang Wenxuan was the shattering of his sense of control.

 

How dare he?

 

How *dare* he!

 

Gao Gusheng raised an eyebrow. Mimicking Gao Shi’s mannerisms, he tapped Zhang Wenxuan’s face with his dagger. “I trust Uncle Huang. So, here’s the deal: surrender quietly and I’ll give you a quick death. Otherwise… I’ll smear my blood all over you and toss you into the horde of ghosts.”

 

“If I recall correctly, my blood doesn’t just whet the ghosts’ appetites—it acts as an aphrodisiac for them too, doesn’t it?”

 

Zhang Wenxuan turned pale with shock; he never expected such words to come from the mouth of a youth who looked so pure, beautiful, and ethereal. He completely forgot that he had previously intended to command a myriad of ghosts to forcibly mate with Gao Gusheng.

 

“Make up your mind—fast. For every minute you keep me waiting, I’ll cripple one of your arms. Wait any longer, and I’ll cripple a leg!”

 

Zhang Wenxuan had never been threatened like this before. His eyes sharpened, but before he could speak, Gao Gusheng suddenly smiled and patted him on the head. “Looking closely, you’re actually not bad-looking…”

 

Zhang Wenxuan was bewildered by this sudden shift in tone. For some reason, gazing into Gao Gusheng’s sparkling eyes, he found himself strangely anticipating what would come next.

 

He felt inexplicably nervous under Gao Gusheng’s scrutiny—even though Gao Gusheng was looking at him the way one looks at livestock destined for the slaughter.

 

Then, Gao Gusheng’s smile vanished instantly, and he drove the dagger down hard—

 

“Time’s up!”

 

“Urgh… Gao… Gu… Sheng!”

 

Watching as the whites of Zhang Wenxuan’s eyes became suffused with blood, Gao Gusheng felt a surge of tension; he discreetly touched the phone in his pocket. Back when he was developing the device, Gao Shi had anticipated situations where answering a call might be inconvenient. Consequently, he had installed a small program on Gao Gusheng’s phone that allowed him to transmit messages via Morse code—a one-way communication channel from Gao Shi to Gao Gusheng.

 

The messages were conveyed through vibrations.

 

What Gao Shi had just signaled was:

 

[Stall for another thirty minutes.]

 

Huang Shan had claimed he could hold out for fifteen minutes—a feat that would likely require risking his life. He intended to delay the enemy as long as possible while simultaneously weakening Zhang Wenxuan’s physical capabilities and disrupting his mental focus.

 

He didn’t yet know how to cripple an opponent’s spiritual energy, so he could only target his physical body.

 

As Gao Gusheng pulled the dagger out, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of disdain. To think a grown man could be this weak and feeble—he looked sturdy enough, yet possessed absolutely no combat prowess; those muscles were a complete waste.

 

Perhaps Gao Gusheng’s look of contempt was too obvious; the moment Zhang Wenxuan—who was just regaining his senses after the initial shock of pain—saw him, he nearly lost his mind.

 

“Fine… just fine! No one has ever dared to toy with me like this!”

 

“Fei…”

 

“Hey, hold on a second. You’re getting on in years, yet your temper is still so explosive.”

 

Gao Gusheng casually grabbed one of the many vials Zhang Wenxuan carried and shoved it into the man’s mouth, wondering if silencing him would break his control over the *Feiyu*. “The truth is, you just want to pry into the Heavenly Dao and achieve immortality, right? I can help you with that—and I’m the only one who can.”

 

Seeing Zhang Wenxuan—incorrigible as ever—freeze in his tracks, Gao Gusheng fell back on the old tricks he’d used to hoodwink the Evil God, launching into a masterclass of bluffing:

 

“You see, this world isn’t suited for the path to immortality; the main issue is the scarcity of spiritual energy. Since you’ve had contact with the Heavenly Dao, you surely know that…”

 

Gao Gusheng talked until his throat was parched—crippling one of Zhang Wenxuan’s legs in the process—but he eventually ran out of fabrications. Zhang Wenxuan was different from Li Mochen or the Ghost King; having glimpsed the secrets of the heavens while wrestling the Heavenly Dao for control of his body, he wasn’t easily fooled.

 

Gao Gusheng estimated the time; there were still about ten minutes left, but Zhang Wenxuan was already losing patience.

 

Even with his unique constitution slowing the rate of blood loss, the continuous hemorrhaging was taking a toll on his body, and he didn’t want to wait any longer.

 

Zhang Wenxuan fixed a cold, greedy gaze on Gao Gusheng’s face. Shattering the porcelain vial in his mouth with a burst of spiritual energy, he said, “You make a fair point—it’s something worth considering. But that only applies if *I* am the one calling the shots.”

 

“Feiyu!”

 

Feiyu shot forward like a projectile. Huang Shan, fully prepared, deflected the attack with his pen and closed the distance, driving his elbow into Feiyu’s midsection.

 

A flicker of reluctance crossed Huang Shan’s eyes, yet he didn’t hesitate for a moment; he thrust the fountain pen in his hand straight toward Feiyu’s lower abdomen!

 

A white formation flashed briefly at the pen’s nib.

 

[I’m giving this pen to you.]

 

[Hey, Blockhead Huang—do you want it? Actually, never mind—like it or not, you’re taking it!] 】

 

【I’ve read up on this; for someone like me—who lost their memory for no apparent reason—it’s possible to regain it just as inexplicably. But the catch is, once the memory returns, I’ll forget everything that happened during the time I was amnesiac.】

 

【Tsk, I have a bad temper, and you’re so weak—you can’t beat me. What if I end up hitting you?】

 

【I have a body of iron and bronze; you can’t hurt me. That’s my primal power. If I ever hit you, just use this to stab me. Once I come into contact with my own primal power, I’ll be immobilized for ten minutes—that’s when you can run.】

 

Ten minutes—plus the five minutes he could hold out with his own life—that was enough.

 

In his memory, Dongxue was wrapping his arms around him from behind, whimpering and stubbornly biting the hollow of his neck; he seemed to have a particular fondness for leaving his mark there.

 

Biting his shoulder, Dongxue mumbled indistinctly, 【Hmph, even if I forget you, you aren’t allowed to forget me. Come find me—do you hear?】

 

Huang Shan was rendered speechless by the other’s vigorous movements. Just as he finally managed to catch his breath, the person on top of him looked angry enough to cry; torn between frustration and amusement, he could only agree helplessly.

 

【Alright.】

 

A thousand images flashed through Huang Shan’s mind, yet his hands moved with lightning speed.

 

He made contact!

 

A surge of joy rose in Huang Shan, only to be cut short as a massive force sent him tumbling. He crashed heavily to the ground; the impact felt like it had cracked his ribs, but he ignored the pain, staring in disbelief at Feiyu’s crimson eyes.

 

Zhang Wenxuan laughed loudly, “I told you I’d seen his memories! How could I possibly have left such a hidden danger unresolved?”

 

“Go! Kill—Aaaargh!”

 

Amidst a blood-curdling scream, Gao Gusheng sneered and crippled his remaining leg. “Shut your mouth, you scum!”

 

Zhang Wenxuan was truly worthy of being the male lead chosen by the Heavenly Dao; even after suffering such injuries, he hadn’t lost consciousness.

 

He was even laughing.

 

“Hiss—ha, hahaha! So what if you crippled my legs? This feeble body of mine is nothing compared to a body possessing the bloodline of the Kunpeng!”

 

“After the Kunpeng killed you all, I seized his body. With the Kunpeng bloodline and the mandate of the Heavenly Dao, the world would have been mine to roam freely!”

 

“Kunpeng, kill him!”

 

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