Mingyao held the Moonblade tightly, her stance fierce. Yet the young man with a slightly feminine face and long, silky black hair stood there, unphased.
Seeing that he remained unmoved by her words, Mingyao decided to repeat them, her voice sterner.
"Release her now, or face death."
The young man barely glanced at Mingyao as he turned toward Zhao Qingmei. His hand immediately burst into flames, a strong and warm energy emanating from it before he placed the flaming hand on the bound Qingmei.
The fox, who had been docile until now, started to stir erratically, charging forward toward the man like a moth to a flame. Mingyao was also charging, not noticing the fox's strange attraction—or if she did, she unconsciously gave it no thought. There were more pressing matters to attend to.
Mingyao tried with all her might to stop the fire, but at once it began to engulf the entirety of Qingmei's body. As it did, the cold, oppressive energy that had been seeping from Qingmei started to dissipate. Yet Mingyao's energy became more erratic as her cold qi grew sharper. She tried to channel her cold energy to stop the spreading fire, yet it did nothing to the flames. She struggled helplessly as the small fire turned into an inferno.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the man said in a soft, soothing voice, a kind of warmth and air of benevolence surrounding him.
Mingyao ignored his words, trying harder to stop the all-consuming fire, but found herself helpless. Her anxious and fearful eyes grew colder, hardening into anger as she turned her blade toward the man.
"What did you do to her?" she asked, her blade pointed at him, glowing dimly with a terrifying blue aura.
The man only smiled, a warm smile without a hint of malice.
"I am giving her a chance to be reborn."
Mingyao felt her heart grow cold, her anger turning into something darker.
In a quick move, she lunged at the man. Her previous fatigue dissolved as her will carved out a terrifying resolve, polishing her techniques. Her partially silver and black hair completely turned silver as her skin grew paler and paler. Her brown eyes grew closer and closer to a colder grey, almost ghost-like in appearance. The temperature in the area shifted from a warm, cozy feeling to a cold, desolate, almost unkind atmosphere.
The man watched as all this happened.
"Interesting."
And with that, Mingyao began to thrust her blade nonstop, her movements turning into a blur. Yet the man dodged with ease, as if swatting away an annoyance rather than engaging in a battle.
The man's skin began to gain a faint luminosity as his bulging muscles and perfect form grew more radiant and powerful. A warm energy emanated from him, a total opposition to the aura surrounding Mingyao.
Mr. Du, who had been enthralled by everything that had happened, finally broke from the enchantment as the reality of it all dawned on him.
"Young miss, you have to stop this," he shouted as fear slowly pushed away his awe.
From the energy he had just felt, the dewa before them was clearly at Yang Ethereal, the equivalent of Core Formation to an immortal cultivator, yet Mingyao was only at Qi Refining, the first realm of cultivation.
The difference between them was like that of a bowl of water and the ocean. He could easily finish her with a single move, yet...
Mingyao didn't—or maybe couldn't—register the words. She was too far gone, consumed by her own persistence.
Her blade cut forward again and again. Each strike was faster than the last. The cold qi around her gathered like a storm that had finally found a direction. Frost spread beneath her feet. The air sizzled and whipped as her aura sharpened.
The man stood still, watching as a warm current encircled him.
When the blade was about to reach his throat, he finally lifted his hand. Two fingers pressed lightly against the flat of the Moonblade. The strike lost its force as if it had hit deep water.
"Your anger is clouding you," he said calmly.
Mingyao twisted her wrist and pushed harder. Her qi surged, the frost growing thicker.
Her face becoming even colder, her movements rigid and mechanical.
She stepped forward and slashed toward his chest. He leaned slightly to the side. The blade missed him by a hair. His other hand moved and tapped her shoulder. The force was gentle yet Mingyao still stumbled three steps back.
Her movements growing even sharper. Her techniques were no longer controlled.
The man watched her with deep, still eyes.
"Are you afraid?"
Another strike. He caught her wrist, this time loosely, just enough to slow her.
"You fear being alone."
Mingyao's eyes widened. Cold qi burst out violently and forced him to release her. She spun and thrust toward his heart.
He raised his palm. The thrust slowed. The warm energy from his body met her cold qi. The two forces clashed barely not exploding pushing against each other like two tides.
"If you would only listen," he said.
She screamed and forced more power out. Blood slipped from the corner of her mouth.
The man's expression finally changed.
He sighed.
"This..."
Mingyao gathered everything she had. Her aura spiked. The frost in the area condensed into sharp fragments. Her blade shone with a deeper blue light.
She moved.
Golden light spread across his skin. The warm energy around him grew heavier. The ground under his feet sank slightly.
When Mingyao's blade came down, he raised his hand.
A flash of bright blinding light.
A khakkhara appeared in his grip—simple in design, yet heavy, vibrating with an inexplicable power.
He blocked.
The impact shook the area. Frost and heat scattered in all directions. Mingyao's arms trembled yet she pushed harder. Her eyes were wild.
"Give her back." Mingyao simply utter in a detached tone
The man's voice was still calm but with a deep insistance.
"If I do not stop you, you will die here."
"I don't care!"
She tried to force her blade through. Her muscles tore. Blood ran down her hands.
The khakkara began to move.
He was about to end the fight.
"Stop… Mingyao…"
The voice was weak and Hoarse.
Everything froze.
Mingyao's eyes shook. The coldness inside them cracking.
She turned.
The fire had disappeared.
Zhao Qingmei stood there. Her body looked fragile but no longer lifeless. The fox was beside her, trembling.
"Jie… I'm here…"
The moonblade slipped from Mingyao's hand.
The cold aura collapsed. Her legs gave out, and she fell to her knees.
For a moment she only stared. Then her body shook.
"Qingmei…"
The man lowered the khakkhara. The golden light faded. He watched quietly as Mingyao crawled forward and grabbed Qingmei's sleeve like a child afraid to wake from a dream.
He said nothing. He only turned his gaze to the sky.
The warmth in the air returned.
After Qingmei and Mingyao had their moment, the man turned to them, washing warm energy over Mingyao effectively healing her injuries.
"The flames of compassion can only suppress the resentment for now. She still needs to let go of her obsession and attachment."
Mingyao, still clinging to her sister, turned to the man.
"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.
"Resentment is born from obsession. This obsession can be anything, but more often than not it's a feeling of being wronged. If you are both done, we can move to the next step."
"Next step?"
"Yes. We need to move within this window and hide among the departed so that we can make it into Youdu with no problems."
"Youdu?"
"Yes. The Three Lives Stones are located there. But first, are you going to bring it?" the man asked, pointing to the whimpering fox that had just witnessed the incredible scene.
Before Mingyao could speak, Qingmei was already jumping onto the fox, burying her face in its soft fur.
"Before we move, there are things you must observe. You must be respectful to all the beings there and act like the dead. Never reveal that you are living, otherwise..."
Just as Mingyao was about to speak, the beautiful and ethereal young man lifted his khakkhara. The area shifted, the surroundings becoming dreamlike before settling into another form.
The group was now outside, on the other side of the mountain, overlooking a grand city that looked no less lively and prestigious than Xianyang City at night.
A vast body of water surrounded it, a gradient of red to blue rippling across the surface, meeting at a certain midpoint.
"That is Youdu," the ethereal man said, pointing to the city in the distance. "That is our destination." He continued, indicating a long queue of people on the far side of the city, more in the blue region of the waters than the red.
"A ghost city? Hiding in the mountains," Mingyao said. "What are we going there for?"
"We are heading for Wang Chuan Sheng Mu's domain, otherwise known as Lady Meng's domain. She is the only one who can aid lingering ghosts in finding their way to reincarnation."
"Wait! You want me to help my sister move on?"
"Indeed. It's the only way the resentment will be cleared away."
"But… is there a way to resurrect her?"
"Unfortunately, young lady, once a person has died, they must be reincarnated. It is the natural order of life."
"Yet one can cultivate immortality. Do immortals also reincarnate?... If one can defy death once, they can defy it twice. I will find a way."
The man sighed in resignation as he retracted his staff.
"This is the path to Youdu," he said, pointing to a forming bright yellow path that led toward the city.
The path seemed radiant, alive with a certain power emanating from it. As each of the four stepped onto it, they seemed to see different versions of the path. Yet it was no longer merely a path—it had become a long bridge connecting this end of the mountain to the city in the distance.
"This is a projection of the Naihe Bridge," the man said. "It might appear different to each of us, but it leads to the same destination."
The group listened, each wondering what the others were seeing. For Mingyao, the moment her foot stepped onto the bridge, her eyes fell upon an astonishing scene: a towering pagoda that encompassed the entirety of the city, built from nine golden trails, the pagoda itself gleaming like pure gold. There was a divine, almost ethereal aura to it. Mingyao felt a subtle, familiar pull. The sword in her hand trembled, as if resonating with something unseen.
For the two ghosts in the group, Mr. Du and Qingmei, the city was the same, but the bridge looked different. It had an eerie vibe, ending with a statue of ox head and horse face. The bridge appeared to be made of wood, and below it, a raging river flowed, showing the same gradient of red to blue.
For the deva, the familiar scene engulfed him. A statue formed in his image, seated in a meditative posture atop a twelve-petal lotus of golden light. Thin strings extended from unknown places, feeding the figure. Its light seemed even brighter. He felt pleased with this image—it was proof that his cultivation was progressing. He hoped to reach the late stage of Yang Ethereal soon.
For the fox, the scene was different. It was an image of a blooming flower made of a fox—or perhaps the image of a fox formed from a lotus. It was hard to tell. The image shimmered with gold, red, and white light. Each time the fox gazed at it, she felt something inexplicable stirring within her. Something was growing, about to burst forth, yet still held back.
The group walked across the bridge slowly, captivated by the sights, no one speaking to another.
Finally, they reached the other side, where the golden bridge suddenly dissipated, revealing a grand gate before them. Towering statues of ox head and horse face, equal in size to the gate itself, stood as sentinels. A line of ghosts waited, each vying for entry, but allowed passage only if the statues permitted. The group joined the queue, standing patiently until their turn came.
The statues then stirred to life, looming over the group as a rumbling voice echoed.
"Who dares walk through the gates of Youdu?"
The young man with a handsome face, barefoot and clad in simple attire, raised his khakkhara.
"Greetings to Senior Ox Head, Senior Horse Face. I, Guang Qingjing, disciple of the Guang Xingwu, am here to free a resentful ghost."
He clasped his hands and bowed respectfully. A bright token floated into the air.
"Greetings to a master of Dharma. I see that you are not alone. Are all these your companions?"
"Indeed. They are here to help me perform the cleansing."
The statues remained still for a moment, a contemplative expression on their faces, before the grand gates swung wide open.
The group walked into the bustling city, which looked no different from Xianyang City at night. Various spirits bartered with a type of currency for goods. It was just like a human marketplace, yet an eerie, cold aura lingered in the air—a reminder that these people were dead.
"Follow me. We need to go to the magistrate to get permission to head for the Three Lives Stones."
"Magistrate?"
"Indeed. We need approval to use the stones. Otherwise, we'll have to wait for the souls bound for the Sea of Serenity, which could take months."
"I see."
Mingyao was taken aback even the underworld couldn't escape the reach of bureaucracy.
Soon, the group arrived at the magistrate's hall. Mr. Guang requested an audience with the magistrate, with whom he had grown close over time.
But as this was happening, the calm Qingmei, who had been doing well, suddenly began to writhe as a massive wave of resentment started to leak from her.
Guang Qingjing sprang into action, trying to calm her, yet the energy seemed to overpower him. He channeled energy into his khakkhara, a radiant light washing over the area, but the disturbance spilled beyond the magistrate's office. Suddenly, a march of resentful ghosts moved in their direction, and a slight tremor shook the ground.
Mingyao was confused, unsure how to handle the situation, yet she stood her ground, taking a protective stance toward her sister.
The khakkhara floated into the sky as Guang performed intricate hand signs, channeling a formation. Just as the mob of crazed ghosts was about to reach them, the magistrate stepped out with the pass. When Guang laid his hands on it, he channeled his divine sense, drawing it to himself and swiftly completing his spell. The area around the group shifted almost instantly.
They were no longer at the magistrate's hall in the middle of the city, but standing before three human-shaped statues, each facing a different direction.
"We are here," Guang said, catching his breath—but there was little time to rest, as Qingmei was still on the verge of collapse.
Guang bound her again, hoping to prevent any further issues. A slight tremor ran through the ground, like the earth itself was shaking, yet no one paid it any mind. All attention was on the quickly deteriorating resentful spirit.
"Mr. Guang, do you have any solution to help my sister?" Mingyao asked, her eyes fixed on the bound Qingmei.
"I am working on it," he said, channeling his essence into the statues. A wisp of energy flew into each one. The three statues flared to life, enveloped in blue, red, and purple light.
"For the resentful spirit, the best way to help them is to confront the resentment," Mr. Guang said as he sat down in a lotus position.
"If you wish to save your sister, please take a seat."
Mingyao took a seat, and soon Mr. Du and the fox did the same. They now sat in a ring—or perhaps a diamond-like formation—around the statues.
"I am going to chant the Great Compassion Mantra," Guang said. "This will help calm the resentment of her spirit, but you still need to address the root of the problem—most likely at the end of her life. I will channel your two energies so that you can see her. You will glimpse the entirety of her present life. It will be fragmented, but all the emotionally charged moments will fill your mind. Remember, you are searching for her inner self. Once you find her, start chanting:
'Om Mani Padme Hum. Lotus heart, awaken. Great Compassion, descend. Demons, be gone.'
Repeat this chant once you find the affliction. This will help clear the inner demons, negative karma, and resentment."
Once Guang finished speaking, Mingyao felt herself falling through a void that materialized out of nowhere. She blinked once, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself in a courtyard.
Two young boys practiced martial forms while a young girl watched from the sidelines, trying to imitate them. This was a memory from Qingmei's past—one from their childhood when she, Su Haron, and Zhao Mingyu were training together.
"You are getting better, Crown Prince."
"Hey, I told you not to be so distant. But your spear form is improving. We can go eat now."
"Really?" Su Haron's face lit up immediately. "Can I also take some meals back home? My sisters love the cooking."
"Sure. I hope Queen Mother made enough," Mingyu said, a small chuckle escaping him.
"Big brother, are you done with practice?"
"Yes, little Qingqing."
"Good. Here," Qingmei said, handing a batch of pastries to Mingyu and Haron. "Mother said after hard practice one should eat sweet things."
Mingyu ruffled his little sister's hair before carrying her on his back. Mingyao heard a giggle as a wisp of something passed by. She tried to make it out but couldn't. The memory continued playing.
"Let's go have lunch. I wonder what Mother has prepared today."
The three children walked away, and soon the memory faded.
Mingyao was unsure what she was seeing. She had expected a negative scene, yet here she was witnessing what she could only assume was her sister's happy childhood memory. Then, with that wisp and the giggling, a new scene immediately began to take shape.
"Jie, do you know what marriage is?"
"Umm… well, this happens when two people who love each other become husband and wife."
"Really? Then can I marry my big brother?"
"No! No! No! Xiao Qingqing, you cannot marry your big brother."
"But why? I love him, so why not? If big brother has to be married, then I will marry him."
"He already has a betrothed, Qingmeimei."
"But…"
"Once you grow up, you will understand."
"Okay… what about you, Jie? Do you have a betrothed?"
"...You need to get to bed now. Queen Mother will be angry if she finds out you are still awake."
"Can you tell me a story, like how Mother does?"
"Okay…"
As the memory played, Mingyao could hear subtle muttering: no marrying, no marrying. It was indecipherable at first, but as the memory continued, it grew clearer and stronger. Mingyao began to realize what was happening. The memories she was witnessing were fragments of resentment toward an unwanted marriage. Perhaps her sister's final regret had been born from that forced union.
The scene soon faded, and a new one began to take shape.
It was Qingmei, lying on the ground in prison, chained. Mingyao's body immediately stiffened as she realized—this was the day her mother had died, and all the blame had been placed on Qingmei as a way to neutralize mingyu.
She looked cold, unkempt, and disheveled. There was not a single trace of the dignity of a princess. She moaned for both the death of her mother and the betrayal of her siblings.
Soon, a light pierced through the darkness.
"Qingmeimei, I am here to rescue you."
It was Su Haron.
The memory suddenly broke, and new fragments began to form.
They were bits and pieces of Su Haron and Qingmei living as commoners—their life over the last three years in the borderlands.
"Will this life last?"
"I would do whatever I have to protect you, Your Highness."
"But what about our family? What about your future wife? How can we continue staying like this?"
"...Who cares about reputations. As long as you're safe, I will honor my promise."
This time there was no vision or strange sound—just a saddening ache that reverberated through Mingyao. Indeed, the forced marriage had been a huge part of her sister's resentment, she realized.
Mingyao couldn't help but wish they had stayed away from all this madness of intrigue and political machinations. They seemed… happy.
Then suddenly, another fragment appeared—a memory of the summons that had ordered them back to the capital, using the Su family and the Crown Prince as hostages.
The two were now in a carriage, heading back to the capital.
"Have you ever fallen in love?" Qingmei asked casually.
Su Haron was taken aback by the question. "Why do you ask, Princess?"
"Well, Xiulan Jie told me once that people marry those they love. Yet here I am, going to be married, never once knowing my husband. I don't even know what love is…"
"I am sorry, Your Highness. I couldn't protect you."
"It's okay. At least I can protect my brother this way."
The memory soon faded. Mingyao was unsure of what to do. She had made sure it was difficult for them to be found, even going so far as to forge their deaths. Yet... A tinge of sorrow spread through her heart.
Then another scene began to form.
A man, lost in thought, seemed to stumble onto the path of a noblewoman stepping gracefully from her carriage. Silk and perfume enveloped him as they collided, her weight pressing against his chest.
"Lady Shen?" he asked, eyes locking onto her face.
"Get off my lady, you lecher!" a young, feminine voice snapped from the side.
The noblewoman—none other than Zhao Qingmei—hastily pushed herself off him, assisted by her maid. The man, still recovering, studied her features carefully.
"My lady," he began cautiously, brushing dust from his sleeves, "are you familiar with a Shen Yueqing?"
The maid bristled. "How dare—"
A delicate hand rose, silencing her with a mere gesture. The noblewoman's lips curled into a smile. "I don't know any Shen Yueqing."
"Oh, that's unfortunate."
She turned, prepared to leave, but a carriage barreled forward, its wheels rattling against the cobbled road.
Without thinking, Chen Xiao grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his chest, his arm encircling her waist, shielding her from harm. She gasped, her fingers briefly clutching his robe. A moment stretched between them—her warm breath against his collar—before she pulled away, cheeks tinged a delicate pink.
"How dare you treat a princ—" The maid's words cut off as the noblewoman shot her a warning glance.
"Please respect my lady," the maid corrected, voice tense. "She is soon to be a married woman."
Chen Xiao exhaled slowly, adjusting his sleeves. "My apologies. I saw the danger and acted on instinct."
The noblewoman inhaled deeply, regaining her composure. "No, I understand, Young Master. If you don't mind, I would like to take my leave."
"Wait."
She hesitated.
"You are betrothed?"
"Yes, I am."
"Then… do you have any siblings?"
Her lips drew into a faint smile. "Why do you ask so suddenly, Master…?"
"Chen Xiao. My name is Chen Xiao."
"Why do you ask, Master Chen?"
"Your face is familiar. I wonder if you are someone I should know."
The woman chuckled softly. "I have many siblings—some known, others unknown to me. But if you ask about my closest family, I have only one older brother."
"And a sister?"
"I have quite a few, but I am not very close with any of them."
"I see. Thank you, Lady…?"
She smiled enigmatically. "If fate wills it, you will learn my name."
Qingmei couldn't help but giggle at the encounter.
"Have you ever fallen in love?" Qingmei asked the woman beside her.
"Not really, my lady."
"From my mother's stories, the princess is saved by a dashing man who always makes her heart flutter. The encounters are always heart-throbbing, the man appearing whenever the princess is in danger. Do you think this is the beginning of such a story?"
"Your Highness… time isn't on our side… the wedding…"
"I know, I know… It was only a wish that I, too, could marry a man who makes my heart flutter, but alas, duty calls…"
Mingyao felt a numbness wash over her. It wasn't emanating from herself, but from her sister. Soon, the memory faded, and another began to take shape.
It showed Su Haron and Zhao Qingmei tending to a group of people who seemed displaced, offering food and medicine during a sudden plague outbreak. As the day ended, they headed back to the Su estate. Once they arrived for the night, they were met by a royal entourage and the chief eunuch, delivering a decree.
At the Su estate, several people knelt as the proclamation was read:
"Zhao Qingmei and Su Haron, receive the decree. The Su family is noble and loyal, having provided aid to afflicted areas. As such, they have been charged with assisting the residents of Xianyang City to curb the plague, spearheading pandemic relief starting tomorrow.
Zhao Qingmei, being of royal blood and a daughter I will dearly miss, has done her duty and is to marry into the Northern Qi Kingdom. I wish to spend time with her; therefore, she has been summoned back to the palace to tend to the emperor one final time.
Do you accept the decree?"
Su Haron and Zhao Qingmei only stared at each other.
"We accept the decree."
The memory soon fragmented.
A deep, angry scream pierced through Mingyao as the memory ended. She could not understand the situation, but before she could react, a new memory began to take shape.
The next scene showed Qingmei on a bed, clearly ill, as her maid did her best to care for her. She seemed to be sleeping in a worn-down house, sealed off from the world, looking inches from death. Her maid tended to her with all her strength, but suddenly Qingmei's body rose, drawing energy from her maid. Her body immediately recovered, yet curling dark mist followed her, moving on its own, devouring everyone in its path.
She advanced, leaving death in her wake, and soon had taken more than ten lives. Suddenly, a brilliant flame blazed through the sky, and a spear pierced her heart. The figure was familiar—it was Li Xiulan.
As the memory played out, an insistent wailing filled the air. Mingyao could feel the heavy, raw emotions pressing against her.
Suddenly, the memory fractured, and Mingyao found herself in a void-like place, Qingmei before her, an eerie aura emanating from her.
Mingyao tried to approach, but Qingmei continued to wail, dark energy lashing out in all directions. Mingyao wasn't sure what to do. As the wails grew, Qingmei's form became increasingly monstrous and ominous. Then, the memory of Guang Qingjing's instructions came to her.
Immediately, Mingyao began to chant:
"Om Mani Padme Hum. Lotus heart, awaken. Great Compassion, descend. Demons, be gone."
A soft luminosity began to engulf the area, growing brighter and brighter as Mingyao chanted. Yet this only caused Qingmei to lash out even more. Mingyao did her best to evade the attacks, continuing the chant, gaining momentum. Soon enough, the void disappeared.
In its place was a space filled with light, yet her sister still wailed. Mingyao slowly walked toward the wailing Qingmei, still chanting, hoping to calm her down.
Qingmei continued to chant, I killed them, I killed them. Mingyao realized that her sister's attachment wasn't only about the marriage. Something strange had overtaken her body, causing her to go rogue and take many lives. Yet even though Mingyao had seen bits and pieces of Qingmei's memories, she wasn't sure what the root of her attachment was—she felt even more baffled than before.
Looking at the weeping Qingmei, Mingyao could do nothing but kneel and embrace her. The gesture seemed to comfort Qingmei.
"It wasn't your fault," Mingyao began. "You are my little sister, and my little sister is a compassionate and kind person."
Those words seemed to bring her back from the brink.
"Jie?" Qingmei called out.
"I…" Mingyao started, but then continued, "You have to let go, little Qingqing. I know you feel guilty, wronged, and angry, but it's all over…" Tears welled in Mingyao's eyes. "I know you have suffered, but once you let go, you will have a new life."
"...I have to let go." Slowly, the eerie aura began to dissipate. "I hope in my next life I will be born into a normal family."
"Me too."
"I just… wish I could see my big brother, to tell him goodbye one last time."
"He… he knows," Mingyao whispered, sobbing as the light-filled void dissolved. They were back at the Three Lives Stones. Qingmei had stopped radiating resentment, her body now glowing with a soft, gentle luminosity.
"Is that it?" Mingyao asked, confused.
"Indeed. Her resentment has been cleared."
"That wasn't so bad."
"Maybe for you…"
"Though her resentment has been cleared, there is an anomaly with her soul."
"What?"
"Her soul still seems to hold the three corpses."
"The three corpses?"
"Indeed. And these corpses carry a great deal of negative karma. If this issue is not resolved, she may end up in hell to purify it."
"Hell?"
"Yes."
"Then how do we fix that?"
"We need to get rid of the three corpses."
"How?"
"We can extract them, but doing so might lead to unexpected results."
"I don't care, as long as it can save my sister."
Guang paused for a moment before speaking.
"The three corpses will need a new vessel once extracted. Otherwise, they will return to their original vessel. The new vessel must be someone of the same blood as the old one."
"...That leaves none other than me."
"Are you sure you want to do it?"
"It's the only way to save my sister."
"Then let's begin."
Guang planted his khakkhara on the ground, clasped his palms together, and began chanting. The area started to rumble as the chant grew more resonant, almost divine in its pull. As the chant continued, Mingyao and Qingmei began to float, wrapped in a mysterious, radiant energy.
The unconscious Qingmei began to writhe as something emerged from her body—one from her head, one from her chest, and one from her abdomen. They were black worms, emitting an ominous aura. The worms struggled to return to Qingmei, but as the chant continued, they weakened, and finally drilled into Mingyao.
The process was excruciating, draining every ounce of energy from her. When it finally ended, Mingyao felt utterly exhausted, with something unexplainable writhing within her sea of consciousness, her dantian, and the weird palace. It was like a foreign energy trying to take control.
"It's done. Now all that remains is for the soul to be sent through the cycle of reincarnation. She will not be heading to hell. As for you, young cultivator, you will need to find the Nine Tripod Heavenly Cauldron. It will burn away the negative karma and sever your connection to the three corpses."
"Where exactly can I find such a treasure?"
"It is in the hands of the lord of this domain, King Yama. It is rumored he used it to create the hell realms."
"King Yama?"
Before Mingyao could finish speaking, a massive wave of energy surged through the area, making the entire earth tremble. Chunks of ground flung upward, forming a trail that followed something moving toward them. It was like an arrow, but far grander and heavier, leaving destruction in its wake.
Before Mingyao could even register what she was seeing, she felt an irresistible pull toward it, lifted off the ground and drawn in its direction, it a certainty that a head-on collision was inevitable.