Chapter 26 (Part 2)

Yu Zhengzheng, unable to tolerate Xiang Feng’s attitude, was just an outsider. She could sympathize with Shanshui, but she had no way to intervene.

As she was considering how to speak up for Shanshui, a figure dressed in white slowly walked in from outside the room.

Rong Shang glanced at Yu Zhengzheng before his gaze landed on Xiang Feng. “Where is it?”

Xiang Feng stood up, carefully handing over the yellowed envelope with both hands. “The King of Yan said this is the family heirloom.”

Rong Shang lazily lifted his eyelids and raised his sharp-boned hand slightly. His indifferent gaze skimmed past Xiang Feng and landed on An Ning. He narrowed his long eyes, his blood-red lips curving into a faint smile. “What’s wrong with your foot?”

An Ning froze, her arms resting on the couch trembling slightly. She shrank back timidly behind Xiang Feng.

Noticing her fear, Xiang Feng stepped forward, blocking Rong Shang’s probing gaze. “She accidentally injured it last night.”

Suspicion crept into Xiang Feng’s heart.

An Ning had never shown fear of Rong Shang before. Why was she trembling at the sight of him today?

Where had Rong Shang gone last night? And what was with the white robe left under the couch in her room?

Rong Shang let out a soft chuckle, his calloused fingers idly spinning the jade ring on his thumb.

Was he really that terrifying?

He wasn’t going to eat her. What was she so afraid of?

Without paying An Ning any more attention, Rong Shang opened the envelope and pulled out the yellowed sheet of paper inside.

A thousand years ago, he had unleashed a massacre in the Eastern Sea, nearly wiping out the descendants of the Eastern Emperor’s dragon clan.

But the Third Prince, whom he most wanted to kill, had already met a tragic end in his bed before Rong Shang reached the Dragon Palace. He had no idea who killed the prince, nor did he care. After all, with the number of lives he had taken, it was natural for others to blame that death on him.

The only survivors of the Eastern Sea massacre were the Third Prince’s wet nurse and the prince’s cherished wife and child.

The wet nurse had hidden the mother and child somewhere, and Rong Shang had spent over a thousand years searching for them, to no avail.

The only person who knew their whereabouts, the wet nurse, had been murdered over a decade ago. But Rong Shang found her child, a young man named Rong Tu.

The boy knew nothing of the wet nurse’s deeds and stubbornly believed Rong Shang had killed her. He insisted on training at Mount Penglai, dreaming of avenging her one day.

Following his philosophy of leaving no loose ends, Rong Shang cheerfully killed the boy and assumed his identity to infiltrate Mount Penglai. He believed the wet nurse must have said something to the boy; otherwise, why would he be so determined to go there?

But perhaps he was overthinking it. After ten years of lurking in Mount Penglai, Rong Shang found no leads.

Recently, however, his subordinates reported traces of the mother and child’s past life at the King of Yan’s residence.

The letter in his hand was written by the King of Yan’s ancestor. It detailed how the ancestor had sheltered the mother and child before sending them out of the human realm prior to his death.

Hoping to provide a safety net for them, the ancestor left this letter to his descendants, asking them to treat the pair kindly if they ever returned to the human realm.

Rong Shang skimmed the letter at a glance. Beyond the lengthy exhortations to show kindness, it mentioned two locations in the cultivation world at the end: Mount Penglai and Mount Qingcheng.

Rong Shang read the letter more carefully a second time before folding it and tucking it away.

He murmured thoughtfully, “Return to Xu Mountain.”

Xiang Feng responded and instructed Shanshui to gather everyone to pack their belongings.

As Rong Shang turned to leave, Yu Zhengzheng hurried after him. She smiled obsequiously, with a hint of testing in her tone. “What do you think of the chain on my foot?”

He tilted his head slightly, his blood-red lips stark against his pale skin. With a faint smile, he said, “It looks nice.”

Yu Zhengzheng: “…”

“No,” she clenched her hands at her sides, her lips trembling slightly. Summoning her courage, she asked, “Since we’re going back and I won’t run away, can you remove this chain?”

Her slender fingers pressed into her palms as her face, shadowed and tense, looked up at him hesitantly. She seemed like a soft, docile kitten, her long, slightly curled lashes quivering gently.

He tilted his head, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Sure.”

Yu Zhengzheng froze, almost thinking she’d misheard. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him. “Really?”

Rong Shang gave a slight nod. “You can cut your foot off.”

Yu Zhengzheng: “…”

She snapped back to her senses, silently cursing him in her heart.

As expected, there was no hope of removing this damn chain with his help.

While they were speaking, a pitch-black crow flew in from outside and landed on Xiang Feng’s arm. He took a letter from its claw, quickly scanned its contents, and respectfully handed it to Rong Shang. “There’s a rumor spreading—someone is saying that you’re gravely injured, stirring the Six Realms to come after your primordial spirit.”

A deity’s primordial spirit could be refined into a pill, granting eternal life, unchanging youth, and a significant leap in cultivation—a single spirit was worth millions of years of training.

Long ago, a foolish divine maiden revealed this secret to the Third Prince. The prince seduced her into disclosing the weaknesses of the divine clan, then sold this information to the demonic cultivators.

Using the prince’s intimacy with the maiden, the demonic cultivators orchestrated a slaughter, overthrowing the divine clan with ease.

Since the divine maiden’s death, Rong Shang had become the last deity in existence.

Countless demonic cultivators had sought to claim his life, but Rong Shang was no saint. His cruel, bloodthirsty nature and immense divine power made him invincible. Before they could even act, he stormed their lairs, massacring tens of thousands single-handedly.

The surviving demonic cultivators hated Rong Shang deeply but dared not seek revenge. Instead, they lay low, biding their time. Now, hearing rumors of his grave injury, they would surely stir, sending assassins to test the waters.

Xiang Feng glanced at Rong Shang with a subtle probing look in his eyes.

Enemies seeking to kill the Ghost King were everywhere in the Six Realms.

If the rumor of his injury were true, a horde of assassins would swarm like locusts.

So, was the Ghost King truly injured?

Rong Shang caught the flicker in Xiang Feng’s gaze and chuckled softly, his lips curling into a smile. “Let them come. I’ll be waiting.”

A god is a god.

Even if he was left with only a sliver of life, as long as his divine power remained, no one could escape his grasp alive.

Hearing their conversation, Yu Zhengzheng felt her skin crawl.

She knew about the legends surrounding the divine soul. What she once thought to be mere rumors now seemed disturbingly plausible based on the Ghost King’s reaction.

Demonic cultivators were vile and depraved, notorious for consuming human flesh and drinking blood. Even the most seasoned immortal cultivators would flee at the sight of them. These demons were a hundred times more terrifying than zombies.

Judging by Xiang Feng’s words, these demonic cultivators were planning to seize the Ghost King’s divine soul?

Yu Zhengzheng felt her scalp tingle with fear. She cautiously probed, “Aren’t you planning to return to Xu Mountain now?”

Then hurry up and go! Leave! And please don’t take me with you.

Rong Shang lazily lifted his eyelids, easily discerning her thoughts. His lips curved into a faint smirk as he looked at her. “What’s wrong? Want to come along with me?”

Before she could deny it, he continued, “Since you’re so sincere in your plea, I’ll grant you the honor. Come with me.”

Yu Zhengzheng: “…” Who the hell wants to go with you?!

She wanted to rebel, to resist, and slap him across the face while asking why, at his age, he couldn’t have some self-respect.

But she could only entertain these thoughts in her head. Reluctantly, she shrank back into silence.

Shanshui quickly gathered everyone. Hearing that the mission was completed, the group seemed in good spirits, chatting and laughing.

Yu Zhengzheng had little to pack. She grabbed the hen she’d left in the kitchen. Since it laid eggs, she figured it could keep her company back on Xu Mountain.

After bidding farewell to the Yan King, they left the capital and took to the skies on their swords.

The winds picked up, forcing the group to slow down.

As usual, the task of carrying Yu Zhengzheng fell to Shanshui. But perhaps because Shanshui hadn’t eaten properly the past two days, she struggled. Midway, she began showing signs of exhaustion.

Yu Zhengzheng suggested they rest, but Shanshui, unwilling to hold up the group, pushed herself to keep going.

Passing through Sha Valley Gorge, An Ning turned pale and clutched Xiang Feng’s arm. “Brother Xiang Feng, I feel awful.”

Seeing her unwell, Xiang Feng had no choice but to order the group to land and rest briefly.

As soon as An Ning touched the ground, she leaned against a boulder and retched. Yet, after a long while, all she brought up was stomach acid.

Yu Zhengzheng wasn’t feeling great either. The strong winds had dragged their journey far longer than usual, turning this trip into an extended torment for her fear of heights.

Sha Valley Gorge was windier than the mortal realm. Small whirlwinds kicked up sand, which swirled violently in the air.

Two male disciples from Mount Penglai, visiting the gorge for the first time, marveled at the towering cliffs and inspected the surroundings with curiosity.

Shanshui seemed distracted. She pulled Yu Zhengzheng along, walking ahead in silence. Yu Zhengzheng guessed Shanshui might be avoiding An Ning and didn’t pry further, choosing to accompany her instead.

They hadn’t gone far when a sharp scream pierced the air.

Yu Zhengzheng’s gaze snapped forward. Not far away, two male disciples were sinking rapidly into the sand at an unnatural speed, as though something beneath the surface was yanking them down.

Instinctively, Yu Zhengzheng stepped back, only to find her own feet being pulled into the sand. Heavy, flowing grains buried her ankles, and the ground beneath felt like it was equipped with massive suction cups, rooting her in place.

Shanshui was sinking too. Though Shanshui had traveled through Sha Valley Gorge many times, this was the first time she had encountered such a phenomenon.

Struggling only made things worse. The more they moved, the faster they sank.

Yu Zhengzheng raised her hand and called out sharply, “Shanshui, don’t move!”

Terror filled Shanshui’s eyes, but she froze at Yu Zhengzheng’s command, maintaining her position without further resistance.

Shanshui was compliant, but the two male disciples weren’t as fortunate.

Already deeply trapped, their frantic struggles caused them to sink even faster. The sand reached their waists, and an excruciating pain erupted from below as if countless sharp knives were slicing their feet.

Their blood sprayed out, staining the golden sand red.

Desperation painted their faces as they screamed for help, but before anyone could respond, the sand swallowed their heads.

The crimson-stained sand churned ominously, faint crunching sounds echoing from beneath, as though some monstrous creature was gnawing on their bones.

Feeling herself sinking faster, Shanshui panicked, her voice trembling with tears. “Master! Master—”