VL Chapter23

Gui Feng’s madness was far more severe than any of the ghosts had imagined. Before the truth of many things could even be found, drastic changes had already swept in without any warning.

From the moment Shi Xiao discovered an abnormal fluctuation of ghost energy in the rain and mist, to the time he tracked his own ghost energy to find Yan Jiang, it had been no more than half an incense stick of time. Yet, the illusion realm had already densely gathered countless ghost beasts. The disheveled scholar knelt on the ground, his body stained with muddy water and blood, looking an absolute, chaotic mess.

“Truly hideous.” Shi Xiao clicked his tongue in displeasure.

In truth, he was well aware that today’s accident stemmed from him, and by nature he was not some tyrannical ruler fond of crushing the weak. But looking at the present scene, seeing his pet, whom he had washed clean and soft just last night, suddenly rolling into a mud pit, he inevitably felt displeased. Deliberately, he asked, “You’ve caused this venerable one trouble, have you thought of the price?”

In the darkness, all kinds of souls and beasts, wary of the immense ghostly pressure that had suddenly appeared, momentarily fell still. Countless pairs of red eyes stared at this pair of human and ghost master-and-servant, the atmosphere tense enough to trigger at a touch.

Shi Xiao cast a cool, sweeping glance around the surroundings, and flocks of ravens scattered away, plunging into the darkness.

Feeling his garments grow heavy, he lowered his head once more to see Yan Jiang kneeling and cowering in an absolute posture of submission at his feet, pleading humbly, “Save me… I beg you, My Lord, save me…”

Although subtle, both parties involved knew that this was an acquiescence to the “price” hinted at by the Ghost King.

Another clap of thunder struck, its white light flashing past quickly like the horn of a charge, tearing open the false peace within the illusion realm.

Countless screams and roars mingled together in succession, carrying a piercing shrillness that no human could possibly emit, surrounding Yan Jiang and Shi Xiao from all directions. Darkness shrouded the battlefield, yet it could not conceal the terrifying commotion or the foul stench of blood. The sound of flapping wings from the ravens was louder than ever, exceptionally clear even amidst this chaotic revelry.

Yan Jiang did not even dare to raise his head. Trembling, he curled himself into an increasingly tighter ball, while Shi Xiao remained motionless, focusing entirely on controlling the ravens.

Accompanied by a shriek that cut off abruptly, something slammed down into the mud not far beside Yan Jiang, producing a wet, dull thud. He subconsciously opened his eyes, only to catch sight of a severed arm lying starkly across the black earth in his peripheral vision. The stump at the elbow was dripping with fresh blood, yet the skin already bore the post-mortem lividity of someone who had been dead for quite some time, and the flesh on half of the palm had rotted and fallen off, exposing ghastly white bones.

At just a single glance, Yan Jiang terrifiedly slammed his eyes shut again, burying his head even deeper with his forehead pressed against the Ghost King’s shoe. At this moment, he had no mind to care whether this posture was humiliating or not; he only knew that the Ghost King was his sole straw to clutch for survival.

It was impossible to tell how long this massacre lasted.

Yan Jiang was consumed by overwhelming panic, at times even suspecting that he had drowned as his consciousness gradually grew hazy, until the terrifying commotion around him finally began to die down. Within just a few breaths, they died down completely.

The ominous sense of stagnation in the surrounding air dissipated along with it, and the clear rain fell once more, densely pouring over the human’s back. It was somewhat cool, yet reassuring, carrying the fresh scent of the Mortal Realm that washed away the smell of blood lingering at the tip of his nose.

“Get up.” Shi Xiao’s emotionless command drifted down from above.

Yan Jiang’s hands were still tightly gripping the hem of his clothes and had forgotten to let go. His hunched back and waist tensed as he slowly and cautiously straightened himself, lifting his head.

By this time, those terrifying scenes had completely vanished, including the severed arm beside him and the trackless flock of ravens. They locked gazes across the spacious desolate field amidst the dense rain and mist; one high, one low, one standing, one kneeling. Occasional raindrops seeped into the human’s eyes, causing him to squint, while the messy bloodstains and mud on his face were gradually washed away, revealing a fair and plain face.

“You made yourself so filthy.” Ghost bodies were not disturbed by mortal weather, and Shi Xiao’s entire person was completely dry. He looked with indifference at the human’s thoroughly soaked appearance, reaching out to untie his half-loosened hair ribbon.

“I’ll wash it clean when we get back…” Yan Jiang replied dryly.

He wanted to stand up, but unfortunately, having knelt for too long, his legs had long since gone completely numb and couldn’t move at all. When he tried to steady himself by gripping the Ghost King’s thigh for leverage, barely managing to spread his fingers, the pain struck him belatedly.

The rainwater washed away the sticky blood and mud, exposing the wounds. Amidst the immense terror of just a moment ago, he had forgotten the pain, but looking at it now, this wound actually spanned half of his palm. It could no longer bleed, and the pale flesh was turned outward, looking horrifyingly fierce.

Yan Jiang was merely a frail scholar raised in a study; how could he have ever suffered such a severe injury? Furthermore, it was his right hand as well…

He stared blankly at the wound, his mind completely empty, unable to react for a long while. Perhaps he should have felt sadness, pain, or grief over the life that lay ahead of him, but tonight he had already been overwhelmed by too many emotions that came too slowly, leaving his soul stagnant and unable to produce anything beyond a blank daze.

After a moment, Shi Xiao’s hand suddenly appeared before his eyes, taking his right hand and pulling it up to look.

“Does it hurt?” He asked.

Yan Jiang shook his head. “It’s a bit numb.”

After answering, he fell into a daze of silence for a small moment, then suddenly asked another question, “My Lord, with a wound this deep, will I still be able to write?”

At this juncture, he inexplicably developed a trace of psychological dependence resembling reliance toward the Ghost King, much like when he caught a cold and ran a high fever as a child; in his delirium, he would hold tightly to his mother’s hand and murmur, “Mother, will I burn stupid and never be able to study again?”

Rather than an inquiry, it was more like pouring out his anxiety, though Yan Jiang himself had no such awareness.

“If you seek a physician within Xun County to treat this, this hand will inevitably be nothing more for the future than a display piece, no different from being crippled,” Shi Xiao stated candidly. He unconcernedly released that hand, turning instead to stroke the human’s wet crown. He didn’t mind getting a handful of water, but his tone suddenly shifted, softening a bit, “However, if Ah Fu pleases this venerable one, reconnecting tendons and regrowing flesh is no difficult feat.”

Yan Jiang subconsciously pressed further, “How do I please…?”

Thus, Shi Xiao curved his lips into an incomparably amiable smile.

“This venerable one dislikes dirty things.” Those exceedingly handsome lips parted and closed, carrying the most ruthless words through the rain and mist straight to Yan Jiang’s ears, “As it happens, this rain came at an opportune time. Ah Fu should strip off your clothes and wash yourself clean properly.”

Yan Jiang widened his eyes and lifted his head, meeting a gaze from on high that held mildness, yet no trace of tenderness. Upon closer inspection, his eyelashes trembled, his lips trembled as well, his nostrils flared slightly, and his breathing had become completely uneven.

“However, if Ah Fu is unwilling, it doesn’t matter.” Shi Xiao withdrew his hand.

Watching Yan Jiang’s expression as if enjoying a show, he deliberately kept people in suspense for a long while before continuing, “You can go and knock on the village physician’s door right now. Perhaps earlier by a quarter-hour, and this hand might still be able to turn pages in the future?”

The unhurried threat sounded no different from a death sentence to Yan Jiang’s ears.

Seeing the hem of the garment flutter before him and the black boot step back at a pace as if the other party really meant to turn and leave, he no longer had time to dwell on that bleak future. In a panic, he lunged forward to embrace the Ghost King’s thigh, crying, “I’ll be obedient, I’ll be obedient, My Lord, don’t abandon me!”

Yan Jiang used his other, uninjured hand to tug at the Ghost King’s hand while pleading, “I’m willing. My Lord, save me, alright?”

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