Chapter Three: The Haunting Shadows

Red Sun’s expression changed; the Fire Yuan Sword in his hand suddenly flared three feet, a blade of crimson light slicing forward like a flash. Where the red light passed, several ancient trees in the distance toppled in succession. Yet the sound suddenly vanished, as if swallowed. Sword in hand, Red Sun shouted, “Foul demon! How dare you run wild here—come forth and meet your death!”

A chilling wind swept through the Burial Mound, and wisps of darkness rose lazily from several graves. Soon, above the old tombs, the vapor coalesced into the form of a woman clad in black, appearing to be in her twenties. Though her face was delicate, her gaze was cold and terrifying. Her fingers ended in unnaturally long nails, sending a shudder through any who saw her. Her black hair hung loose, drifting in the ghostly breeze—a strange, unsettling aura of yin and yang enveloped her.

The silhouette formed by the dark mist looked uncannily lifelike—except she floated in midair, untethered to earth.

“A corporeal yin spirit?” Red Sun’s face grew grave at her appearance. “Ah Nan, be careful. This is no human, but a ghost! And a formidable one at that!”

Yang Nan widened his eyes curiously at the strange woman in black. Could this be the legendary ghost? She didn’t seem all that frightening. Having lived two lives, even experiencing reincarnation, he’d heard every manner of bizarre tale in his previous world. Now confronted with a ghost, he felt curiosity rather than fear. There were no ghosts in his past life, but in this world, demons and monsters were real. His curiosity piqued, he scrutinized the ghostly woman carefully.

Seeing the teenager staring at her without a trace of fear, the ghost was surprised. Ordinary folk seeing a ghost would be terrified, yet this youth seemed utterly unperturbed—not an average person, clearly. She smiled darkly, and her cherry lips suddenly warped into a ghastly bloody maw. Her tongue extended grotesquely as she cackled, “Boy, have you stared enough?”

Her once delicate features suddenly streamed blood from every orifice; her tongue exuded a foul wind, and fresh blood oozed from her neck, making her appearance terrifying. With a chilling chuckle, she twisted her head off and cradled it in her slender hands, its icy eyes fixed upon Yang Nan.

“Boy, have you stared enough? Am I pretty?” The severed head in her hands spoke with a sinister laugh.

Yang Nan’s eyes sparkled. He couldn’t help but exclaim, “What a ghostly sight! So this is what ghosts look like. What other tricks do you have? Show me everything—can you split yourself into pieces? Can you become two halves?”

The ghost was momentarily speechless. She had intended to frighten this mortal with her ghastly visage, yet Yang Nan treated her as a performer showing off tricks.

“A yin soul that’s become a spirit body—remarkable. But you refuse to enter the Underworld for reincarnation; are you not afraid of the wrath of the God of the Dead, who could shatter your soul?” Red Sun held his sword, noting she wasn’t an ordinary shade and tried to persuade her to leave.

“Old Cold Blade, the God of the Dead, has disappeared—who knows where he’s gone? He can’t control me now. The heavens are broken, the Underworld is in chaos. You’d best be careful, little priest. Why have you come to my home?” The ghost snorted coldly, clearly displeased by the two intruders. This Burial Mound was her home, cultivated here for centuries with few visitors. A noisy crowd had disturbed her by day, and now at night, two reckless boys had come knocking—she’d found the perfect targets for her wrath.

Red Sun’s heart trembled. The God of the Dead missing? The ghost’s words seemed genuine. The Seven Gods of Yin and Yang had governed the Underworld for generations, but now their deity had vanished—no wonder ghosts and monsters had begun to appear in the world. This was a major event in the realm of cultivation.

Could the old lord’s words be true? The stars shifting, the heavens shattered, the star of demons appearing—and even the Underworld affected? Red Sun’s expression shifted. He wished he could return to the Celestial Gate and report to the master at once.

Yang Nan watched the ghost twist off her head and split her limbs. It was wondrous indeed. His first encounter with a ghost aroused curiosity rather than fear, and he felt no hostility toward her. Seeing her displeasure, he stepped forward with a friendly smile. “Ghost sister, we didn’t know this was your home. Why don’t we apologize and leave so we don’t disturb you?”

His face was refined, gentle, and his smile was warm and amiable.

The ghost snorted, her spectral eyes rolling. “During the day, some fools hammered together a hut up front; now at night, you two disturb my cultivation. Want me to let you go? Maybe. But you, little one, are quite bold—why not stay and keep me company for a few days, then I’ll release you?”

Truly a ghost who dared to name her price. Yang Nan kept his composure, though he laughed inwardly. Stay for a few days? Wouldn’t that turn me into a ghost myself? Even if I agreed, Brother Red Sun’s Fire Yuan Sword surely would not.

Red Sun, seeing the ghost refuse to retreat, shouted angrily, “Insolence! A mere shade dares boast so shamelessly. Begone, or I will annihilate your soul!”

The ghost seemed wary of the Fire Yuan Sword, yet sneered, “Fire overcomes yin, and those who cultivate in flesh have the advantage. But the golden crow has set, the moon rules the sky. I cannot defeat you, but you won’t escape the Burial Mound so easily! Your priestly soul will make fine nourishment for my cultivation.” Her face twisted with greed.

Red Sun’s fury blazed. The Fire Yuan Sword erupted in crimson light, severing grass and breaking trees wherever it swept. He unleashed his sword technique, the blade swirling like a great ribbon, fierce flames crackling in the night.

Where the Fire Yuan Sword burned away the gloom, more mist poured forth from the woods. The darkness seemed endless, obscuring the path ahead, even the sky shrouded in thick clouds.

The ghost darted and shifted, laughing coldly as she evaded. Countless slender roots emerged from the soil, reaching to ensnare Red Sun. Facing him directly would be suicide, but in the shadowy woods, surrounded by ancient graves, she flitted here and there, never still, her movements eerie and unpredictable. With roots constantly snapping up from below, Red Sun found it difficult to strike her.

Yang Nan, wielding a short sword, severed several roots trying to entangle him. Watching the two battle for a while, he realized the ghost’s cultivation wasn’t high, but the Burial Mound’s dense yin energy and monstrous trees gave her an advantage. Red Sun couldn’t destroy her outright; the ghost deliberately avoided direct confrontation, leading Red Sun deeper into the woods. Yang Nan called out urgently, “Brother, don’t chase her! Ghost sister wants to lure you into a trap—there may be other monsters helping her.”

Red Sun immediately understood, returning to Yang Nan’s side to guard him. Soon, the ghost appeared atop an ancient tree nearby, grinning mockingly at Red Sun. He slashed at her, toppling the tree, but she instantly reappeared atop a tomb, unharmed.

Red Sun felt troubled. The Burial Mound’s yin was thick; though he didn’t fear the ghost, this endless entanglement was pointless. He was responsible for escorting the young lord—lingering outside Chang’an was risky. If dawn broke and their activities were exposed, it would be disastrous.

This ghost had achieved a corporeal yin body, likely possessing the strength of a Yin Master, her rank no lower than his own. Fire should overcome yin, so Red Sun could defeat her, but the night’s darkness and overwhelming yin made it a poor time for combat.

He grabbed Yang Nan’s small hand, dashing through the woods dozens of times, yet never escaped the Burial Mound’s bounds. The roots beneath the earth were endless, but fortunately, the Fire Yuan Sword’s might was unmatched. Wherever its crimson light swept, roots and ghost vines snapped. Yang Nan noticed a faint mist drifting throughout the Burial Mound, and realized that this fog kept them wandering among countless graves, lost and confused.

A thought struck Yang Nan—was this the legendary “ghost wall” people spoke of?

“Brother, this is her domain. We won’t escape before dawn, and wandering aimlessly is futile.” Yang Nan gently tugged Red Sun, drawing his attention to the drifting ghost mist.

Red Sun studied it for a moment, then smiled bitterly. “Ah Nan, I am a Martial Priest, not skilled in the arts. This ghost mist confuses the senses, but cannot harm us. Still, this persistent ghost is a real headache.”

Suddenly, the ghost popped up from a mound before them, cackling, “You two thieves—just wander in these woods all night. When you’re exhausted, I and the tree demon will drain your essence, and you’ll never be reborn!”

Red Sun shouted angrily, “Wretch! When dawn comes and the golden crow rises, if I find your bone-ash vessel, you’ll see what I can do!” No matter how powerful a ghost may be, it must have a golden vessel for its soul. Destroying it would scatter the ghost’s soul forever.

The ghost snorted, unimpressed. “Still threatening me? You’ll never find my vessel—there are over thirty thousand graves here. If you weren’t so desperate to leave, why sneak around in the night?”

Red Sun, his intentions exposed, was briefly speechless. The ghost, seeing his discouragement, grew more brazen, morphing into various frightening shapes and flying about. Yang Nan suddenly clapped his hands and laughed, “Ghost sister, this endless chasing isn’t solving anything. Why don’t we make a wager?”

The ghost hesitated. “What kind of wager could a little child make with me?”

Yang Nan spoke seriously, “I think you don’t really want to harm us. Brother Red Sun only angered you accidentally, and you refuse to let us go. We’re in a hurry and can’t linger. Let’s compete—if you win, we’ll sit and talk with you all night. If you lose, you let us leave. How about it?”

This lonely, bored ghost harbored malice, but Red Sun’s formidable cultivation made her wary. Yang Nan’s proposal was certain to tempt her—he was only twelve, and his repeated address of “sister” made it hard for the ghost to refuse.

She was indeed tempted. The Fire Yuan Sword frightened her, but Yang Nan was just a child; if she couldn’t best his challenge, it would be disgraceful. Her ghostly eyes swirled, and she nodded. “Fine, I won’t really hurt you. Stand still—I’ll scare you three times. If you’re unafraid, I’ll let you go. If you are, you’ll stay with me three days!”

Red Sun frowned, about to object, but Yang Nan tugged his sleeve, signaling him not to worry. “Agreed! Let’s begin now.”