Chapter 7: A Fence-Sitter Swinging Both Ways  

Li Changsheng’s neck bore hideous blue bruises from being viciously throttled twice.  

Gasping for breath, he finally managed to steady his ragged breathing.  

As his vision cleared, a soft cyan glow came into view.  

Torrential rain poured down.  

The Mountain Ghost remained untouched by the downpour, its sword gleaming coldly as it stood firmly between Li Changsheng and the threat.  

Li Changsheng tilted his head in confusion.  

The Mountain Ghost slowly mirrored his movement.  

Just as he was puzzling over this, Lord Yu’s trembling voice reached him: “You… Your Excellency…?”  

Li Changsheng: “?”  

Why the sudden honorific?  

Yu Qingjian wore a complicated expression, unsure how to react to the Director chosen by the Heavenly Dao—one whom Chong Jun refused to possess, yet the Mountain Ghost eagerly rushed to protect.  

“Just… just who are you?”  

The Calamitous Spirit, its Spiritual Power severed, let out a soul-rending howl.  

The aura of Du Shangheng emanating from the Mountain Ghost grew stronger. Consumed by confusion and seething hatred, the spirit redirected its fury, mustering every ounce of its power in a desperate lunge toward the Mountain Ghost.  

Li Changsheng stood behind the Mountain Ghost and instinctively raised a hand to shield himself.  

Under his control, the Mountain Ghost swiftly swung its sword forward—a barely visible wisp of Sword Qi effortlessly shattered the Calamitous Spirit’s overwhelming Spiritual Power like fragile glass.  

A deafening explosion followed.  

The Mountain Ghost’s blade pierced through Lou Changwang’s shoulder, pinning him mercilessly against the wall. The impact jolted the young man’s body violently, blood trickling down the sword’s edge.  

Li Changsheng was startled.  

Yu Qingjian was equally stunned, gaping at the Mountain Ghost.  

Rumors claimed the Mountain Ghost had never once unsheathed its sword.  

Yet with just one strike, the Calamitous Spirit seemed to have its consciousness shattered, shrieking in agony with incoherent curses.  

Upon closer listening, it appeared to be hurling abuse at Du Shangheng.  

Yu Qingjian struggled to regain his composure, retracting his whip with a flick—though his distracted state made him fumble, nearly slapping himself in the face.  

The sting on his jaw snapped him back to focus. Taking a deep breath, he said, “First, we need a way to force it out of Lou Yao’s body.”  

Li Changsheng, clutching his bruised neck, slowly rose to his feet. Drenched by the rain, his lips were pale with exhaustion. “Cough… How do we force it out?”  

Yu Qingjian didn’t answer, stepping forward with a grim expression.  

Remembering this man was an executioner, Li Changsheng coughed weakly, curious to witness the Bureau of Tribulation Transference’s methods.  

Though pinned to the wall and restrained by Spirit Attachment, the Calamitous Spirit still snarled furiously at Li Changsheng, its eyes bloodshot.  

The executioner strode forward and, without hesitation, stomped on the spirit’s wound, grinding his foot mercilessly. The Calamitous Spirit’s scream nearly split the heavens.  

Li Changsheng: “……”  

*This* is your method?  

Despite his scholarly appearance, Yu Qingjian’s brutality was undeniable. Had the Calamitous Spirit not been possessing Lou Changwang’s body, he likely would have dismembered it and burned the limbs like candles.  

“ARGH!”  

The spirit writhed in blinding pain but knew Lou Changwang’s body was its only lifeline—leaving it would mean instant annihilation.  

It didn’t want to die.  

When Yu Qingjian moved to escalate his methods, Li Changsheng hastily stopped him, signaling for Lord Yu to *please* rein in his Divine Ability.  

He was worried Lou Changwang might die before the spirit could be expelled.  

“The longer the possession lasts, the greater the danger,” Yu Qingjian said grimly. “If we delay, not only the Karma but Lou Yao’s soul will be devoured.”

Li Changsheng seemed lost in thought, pressing his bleeding right hand as he lowered his gaze.

The Calamitous Spirit, its mind clouded, muttered incoherently about “not wanting to die,” clearly intent on dragging Lou Changwang down with it.

The instinct for survival seemed etched deep into its soul. Its pupils were unfocused as its consciousness relentlessly devoured Lou Changwang, who cowered sobbing in the depths of his own mind.

Back when Lou Changwang studied at the Dao Inquiry Academy, he had idolized Du Shangheng so much that—despite being a perfectly ordinary living person—he stubbornly dreamed of joining the Bureau of Tribulation Transference.

His clan had warned him that his birth chart was unusual, and the Bureau dealt with exorcising vengeful ghosts and Calamitous Spirits. One misstep could cost him his life if possessed.

But Lou Changwang was stubborn to the bone, refusing to listen even if it killed him.

Now, cornered in the depths of his consciousness, he could only watch helplessly as the ferocious Calamitous Spirit seized his body and attempted to devour his soul whole…

The young master Lou finally understood fear. His small, bluish soul curled into a ball in the corner, wailing helplessly.

“Waaah… Father! Mother! Uncle, save me—!”

The Calamitous Spirit’s consciousness, wreathed in inky malice, surged toward him, its claws seizing Lou Changwang’s limbless soul-sphere.

Lou Changwang, powerless to resist, flailed and screamed, “Let go! Help!”

The spirit sneered, tightening its grip, ready to swallow him whole—when suddenly, it froze.

Lou Changwang, gasping between sobs, thrashed wildly and felt the crushing grasp loosen slightly. Then, the entire mental realm erupted with swirling black mist, a cacophony of maddened howls.

“So fragrant…”

“Golden Merit!”

“Eat him! Hurry—!”

Lou Changwang blinked in confusion, dazedly looking around.

Drip.

The Night-Luminescent Pearl cast a warm glow, illuminating the rain like a celestial net rising from the earth.

Blood mingled with rainwater, dripping into the mud. Crimson tendrils twisted and coiled, releasing a scent only vengeful ghosts and Calamitous Spirits could detect.

Yu Qingjian stared in shock.

Amid the downpour, Li Changsheng extended his right hand, blood still flowing freely from his wrist, drop by drop, suffusing the air with the aura of Golden Merit.

The Calamitous Spirit stood frozen, its gaze locked onto his wrist, its throat bobbing uncontrollably.

Blood trickled slowly down slender fingers as Li Changsheng looked down at it, lashes lowered as if observing a starving dog. His voice was soft, almost charitable.

“Come.”

This spirit had even licked the blood clean from the sword without hesitation—there was no way it could resist such temptation.

Li Changsheng’s bleeding right hand served as perfect bait to lure the spirit out. At least Lou Changwang’s two thousand taels of silver wouldn’t go to waste.

Sure enough, the Calamitous Spirit’s consciousness grew chaotic, its rationality overtaken by starvation and the desperate urge to feed after its grievous injuries.

Devour him.

If it could consume his flesh and blood, that Golden Merit would be its own.

No more hiding like a rat, no more being hunted. No more existence as a Calamitous Spirit, denied reincarnation.

The Mountain Ghost?

What did it matter? The ghost wouldn’t dare kill this body…

Unconsciously, the spirit’s inky form began seeping out from between Lou Changwang’s brows, inch by inch, drawn toward Li Changsheng as if entranced.

Golden Merit…

Li Changsheng’s brow lifted slightly.

Just as expected.

The moment the Calamitous Spirit fully detached from Lou Changwang’s body, the Mountain Ghost tore free, streaking through the air—its form streaked with blood—and impaled the spirit through the chest, pinning it to the muddy ground.

The Calamitous Spirit shrieked.

“Du… Shang Heng!”  

The Mountain Ghost’s Sword Qi was ferocious. It only managed to utter three words before exploding on the spot.  

Soul scattered, spirit extinguished.  

Dark clouds churned across the sky as torrential rain poured down.  

Lou Changwang suddenly gasped sharply, his soul returning to his body. Before his vision even cleared, he was abruptly overwhelmed by excruciating pain all over his body and let out a piercing scream, “Ah!”  

His face hurt, his hands hurt, his shoulders hurt—everything hurt!  

Young Master Lou had never suffered such agony in his life!  

Before he could even wail again, a hand reached out from nowhere and stuffed a handful of Spirit Pills into his mouth.  

The pills melted instantly upon contact, swiftly healing his near-fatal injuries.  

Lou Changwang’s voice cut off abruptly as he opened his eyes in confusion.  

Yu Qingjian was kneeling on one knee in front of him, still holding a bottle of Spirit Pills. Seeing him awake, she said coldly, “Still want to join the Bureau of Tribulation Transference?”  

Lou Changwang, having narrowly escaped death, panted in shock, unsure how to respond.  

Soon, he belatedly remembered the moment when the Calamitous Spirit was about to devour him…  

It seemed Li Changsheng had saved him.  

Lou Changwang hurriedly turned to look, but the moment his gaze landed, he froze.  

Half of the Dragon God Temple’s roof had collapsed, and in the remaining ruins, rainwater cascaded from the eaves like a translucent beaded curtain.  

Li Changsheng stood alone in the rain, his head slightly bowed as he tended to the wound on his right wrist. He had torn a strip of cloth from somewhere and wrapped it around the injury, biting one end to tie a loose knot.  

Sensing the gaze, Li Changsheng tilted his head slightly, revealing half his face.  

The glow of the Night-Luminescent Pearl was hazy, like morning mist over rain-soaked mountains.  

*Ding-dang.*  

Li Changsheng’s moon-white robes were already drenched, hanging loosely over his shoulders. His raven-black hair was soaked, rainwater dripping from the curled ends in transparent beads. A few drops seemed to land on the chain at his waist, producing a crisp chime of golden bells.  

While the other two looked like drowned rats, utterly disheveled from the rain, Li Changsheng standing in the downpour resembled a painting.  

The icy rain poured over Lou Changwang’s head, yet his face grew hotter and hotter.  

Seeing Lou Changwang staring dumbly without speaking, Li Changsheng—still mindful of the thousands of taels he had swindled from him with fake talismans—rarely offered a kind word: “Does it still hurt?”  

Lou Changwang stared blankly before shaking his head in a daze.  

Li Changsheng assumed he was still shaken and casually soothed, “Good boy.”  

Lou Changwang remained stunned for a long moment, inexplicably growing redder and redder at the words “good boy,” his head practically steaming.  

The grudge over nine Magical Artifacts being destroyed was completely forgotten by Young Master Lou. Flushed, he didn’t dare raise his head and mumbled like a mosquito, “Th-thank you for saving me. My—my Lou family will repay you tenfold.”  

Li Changsheng: “No need.”  

Lou Changwang glanced up at him, then immediately lowered his head shyly.  

Yu Qingjian, standing nearby: “?”  

Yu Qingjian said coolly, “So I contributed nothing at all, unworthy of even a word of thanks from Young Master Lou.”  

Lou Changwang snorted, “You stepped on me. I remember that. My shoulder still hurts.”  

Yu Qingjian sneered, “That sword wasn’t mine.”  

“Ah,” Lou Changwang said, “But—but he stabbed me to save me!”  

Yu Qingjian: “…”  

Lou Changwang suddenly remembered that Li Changsheng had been injured saving him. He scrambled up, clutching Spirit Pills, and approached timidly. “Your hand… it’s bleeding so much. Here, t-take these pills.”  

Li Changsheng raised an eyebrow at him.

Why had this young master reverted to the same demeanor as when they first met days ago? Had he forgotten about the thousands of taels of silver I’d swindled from him?

Li Changsheng said modestly, “Young Master Lou seems to have forgotten—I am but a mortal body, unable to withstand the medicinal potency of spirit pills.”

Lou Changwang shuddered as he recalled his previous reckless words.

“Demon Daoist… wild fox spirit…”

“How could a swindler like you enter the Bureau of Tribulation Transference?”

“This person is merely a mortal…”

His face flushed even redder, and he nearly wanted to go back and slap his past self.

Stiffly, he muttered, “I’m sorry.”

Li Changsheng, unfamiliar with the stirrings of youthful infatuation, looked utterly perplexed.

Shouldn’t he be thanking me? Where was this apology coming from?

With the Calamitous Spirit reduced to ashes and no need to repair the formation, Yu Qingjian approached. His gaze swept over the Mountain Ghost before settling on Li Changsheng, his expression growing increasingly complicated.

This man must be connected to Chong Jun.

But three hundred years ago, Chong Jun had practically been scattered to the winds—his soul untraceable across the Three Realms, the Nether Capital, or the Yellow Springs. The new sect leader of Snow Jade Capital had activated soul-summoning arrays for over a decade without finding even a wisp of him. His body had long been buried in Snow Jade Capital.

Without a soul, reincarnation was absolutely impossible.

So how could Li Changsheng command the Mountain Ghost?

And what did the Calamitous Spirit mean by calling him “little lover” when it mistook his identity?

The Mountain Ghost floated persistently around Li Changsheng, seemingly fascinated by everything. It mimicked his movements, occasionally tilting its sword body or spinning in place to play with its tassel.

Yu Qingjian couldn’t fathom why the Mountain Ghost was being so attentive, but he no longer dared to direct his sarcasm at Li Changsheng as before.

Clearing his throat, he resumed his courteous demeanor and nodded. “Thanks to the Director’s decisive actions, Lou Yao emerged unscathed.”

Li Changsheng coughed. Though the bleeding in his right hand had stopped, his mortal body couldn’t handle such blood loss, and his vision began to darken.

Seeing Yu Qingjian resume his sarcastic “Your Excellency” and “Director” routine, Li Changsheng feared the man might drag him straight to the Bureau to assume the position. Seizing the chance to downplay himself, he feigned a few more coughs—his face as pale as paper from blood loss—and said, “As Lord Yu can see, I’m merely mortal. Losing a bit of blood nearly takes half my life. I’m hardly fit for the Director’s position at the Bureau of Tribulation Transference. Please reclaim the Director Seal.”

Yu Qingjian frowned. “This—”

Before he could finish, Lou Changwang declared vehemently, “I disagree!”

Li Changsheng: “?”

Disagreeing again?

Lou Changwang’s eyes sparkled as he eagerly insisted, “You were chosen by the Heavenly Dao, selected by the Director Seal, and acknowledged by the Mountain Ghost—threefold confirmation! No one has the right to revoke your Director Seal! If anyone dares question your mortal status, I’ll take it straight to Snow Jade Capital!”

Li Changsheng: “…”

Though Yu Qingjian dearly wanted to punch this lovestruck youth, he had to admit, “That’s true.”

The mere fact of being chosen by the Heavenly Dao was enough to silence all Nine Bureaus of the Nether Capital.

Perhaps due to excessive blood loss, Li Changsheng’s vision darkened completely. His body swayed unsteadily before he finally collapsed.

Yu Qingjian caught him swiftly.

“Director?”

Up close, Yu Qingjian’s expression changed abruptly. Only then did he notice the ashen pallor of Li Changsheng’s right wrist, the blood having nearly dyed the puddles around him crimson.

Lou Changwang didn’t expect him to be so severely injured. He rushed over to support him, his voice trembling: “Don’t die! You’re still going to become the glorious Director of the Bureau of Tribulation Transference! Director—!”

Li Changsheng: “…”

I’d rather die right now.

Author’s Note:

Lou Changwang in a post-war interview: From the first moment I saw him, I knew he was a good person [shy]… What twenty fake talismans? He must have had his reasons, probably to teach me not to rely on external objects for victory—that true achievement comes from within. This training in the Ghost Cave has helped me grow so much. Uncle was very pleased and sent ten more Magical Artifacts. Thanks to him, I actually gained one extra artifact [shy]. I’ve told you to stop mentioning the fake talismans—if I bought them myself, wouldn’t I know whether they’re fake or not? [eyeroll]