Chapter 59: Station 22: Inverted Cross

The moment they stepped out, something felt amiss.

All the portraits in the corridor had twisted into indistinct shapes resembling demons and monsters.

The engraved "cross" on the paintings was Simon's doing. The horizontal bar of the cross was originally positioned higher up, resembling a typical Catholic crucifix.

Now, however, it had shifted downward, creating an unstable appearance with the bottom heavier than the top.

This was a clear example of an inverted cross! A grim engraving that invited Satan and malevolent spirits!

The four of them left the corridor with solemn expressions.

The distorted figures in the portraits slowly turned their "eyes" to follow them, their gaze coldly fixed on the direction they departed from.

"My God..."

Si Shuhao looked in shock at the person suspended in the grand hall.

That was Simon, clad in a Dalaris.

His limbs were suspended by thick hemp ropes from a crystal chandelier, adopting the pose of the crucifixion of Jesus.

His eyes were wide open, his cerulean irises devoid of any life, gazing blankly at the golden revolving door with an unexpectedly tranquil expression.

His mouth hung open, with the crucifix he often held and caressed stuffed inside. The blood had frozen in the cold, still trickling down, painting a ghastly scene that defied imagination of his final moments.

A massive garden shear pierced through his chest from behind, blood congealed on the black Dalaris, dampening the holy scarf hanging from him, soaking the snowmobile's windshield in the hall, pooling within the wipers.

The snowmobile, recently moved into the hall, silently bore witness to this horror, itself a victim of the chaos.

Several of its tires had been violently punctured; it couldn't have escaped far even if it tried.

Yet, amidst such a vivid spectacle, only Ada and Patland had managed to escape and witness it.

Patland's face and arms were marked with crosses, indicating he had been well-protected. Moving cautiously toward the source of human presence, he murmured a quiet inquiry:

"Mr. Yan?"

Yan Qiling gazed at Simon's lifeless body with an uncharacteristic lack of emotion, his usually aloof voice untouched by any pretense as he replied,

"I'm here."

The young man hurried forward, seizing the front of Yan Qiling's garment before burying his face in his embrace, holding onto him tightly.

"Father Simon said that only you can guide me out now," he whispered.

Yan Qiling patted his back, his eyes darkening as he adopted his usual tone:

"Rest assured, you will leave this place," Ada said, her fingers forming an unusual gesture resembling a lotus blossom, but with her wrist placed at the center of her chest and turned inward, creating a peculiar posture.

With this stance, she closed her eyes and began to pray for Simon in a language that was neither Spanish nor comprehensible to anyone present. The words held a soothing magic that even Si Shuhao, lost in turmoil, found calming, bringing him a sense of normalcy.

Chi Zihe resumed reciting the Great Sage's Scripture of Deliverance from Suffering and burned a yellow talisman towards the corpse.

Ming Yiyang glanced at the embrace between the two, timing their hug as he said,

"It's been almost a minute. We should quickly find a place to have some canned food. These portraits have all changed; the Master of the Endless might start a massacre soon."

Si Shuhao looked around,

"Where's Ruman and her husband? We should call them over."

Ming Yiyang offered,

"I'll go look for them."

Yan Qiling objected,

"You stay here to protect them. I'll go."

Without hesitation, Patland latched onto Yan Qiling's arm, shrinking next to him, clearly wanting to tag along.

Ming Yiyang felt irritated, wondering why this blond hadn't clung to people like this when Simon was around. Suddenly, it only seemed to happen with Yan Qiling.

He decided to simply ignore what he couldn't see:

"You shouldn't walk around with a burden; I'll go alone."

To his surprise, Yan Qiling grabbed him, his gentle voice carrying an unwavering firmness:

"It's either I go, or no one goes."

Ming Yiyang raised an eyebrow at Patland:

"And what about him? Are you taking him?"

"Mr. Yan, I won't be any trouble," Patland assured.

Moving even closer to Yan Qiling, Patland's unfocused eyes revealed a profound dependence:

"I just want to follow Mr. Yan. Apart from that, I'm willing to comply with whatever you say."

Ming Yiyang sensed an inexplicable hint of tea, leaving him with a peculiar discomfort.

Yan Qiling had already led Patland upstairs to the third floor.

Ming Yiyang, of course, didn't listen and followed silently behind him.

As long as he kept quiet, Yan Qiling wouldn't have a chance to refute him.

Ming Yiyang had mastered the act of pretending to be deaf and mute.

Lu Man and Rao Haocang's bedroom was on the other side of Qi Yongxin's. Ming Yiyang initially thought it would take some time to find it, but then he saw two doors that were shattered into pieces hanging crookedly ajar, giving him an ominous premonition.

At the entrance, Yan Qiling said,

"You go back. I'll take a look inside."

Anger simmered within Ming Yiyang, who sneered and grabbed the man's arm.

Yan Qiling: ?

Then, he was pulled forward by Ming Yiyang, with the young man gritting his teeth and saying through clenched jaws,

"Modesty aside, there's no need. If we're watching, we'll do it together!"

The trio tugged and pulled as they entered, and he heard a voice speaking amidst what sounded like the striking of something:

"There's... There's nothing to worry about... My dear, nothing can harm you. They hit your spine... If you leave like this, you'll be paralyzed... You love traveling so much, you wouldn't want that, right..."

"I'll help you... Don't be afraid... It'll be over soon, I'll stay with you... I will..."

At the entrance of the bedroom, there were trails of blood, and shredded feathers from a down jacket scattered on the floor, mingled with bloody fibers.

Arriving at the door, they witnessed the scene inside.

The woman on the bed was concealed beneath a quilt drenched in blood, with crimson fluff resembling floating dandelion seeds that rose and fell gently.

The woman was utterly silent, her head lifelessly slumped against the pillow.

The husband, who had once shielded her with all his might, now held a dagger aloft, relentlessly stabbing her abdomen—this had persisted for an indeterminate amount of time, as evidenced by the absence of fresh blood splatters.

The room was chilling to the bone, but Rao Haocang, covered in blood, seemed impervious to the cold.

His down jacket was now tightly wrapped around his wife, as if he feared she might be cold. Yet, it was now soaked with the blood of both his wife and himself, turning the scene into a grotesque, vivid joke from hell – a chilling irony that seeped deep into one's bones.

Rao Haocang, aware of the intrusion, lifted his head in a daze, offering a mechanical, programmed smile:

"Is there something I can assist you with?"

Before Ming Yiyang could speak, he caught sight of the back of his own head through the floor-to-ceiling window behind him.

He blinked softly.

Rao Haocang in front of him vanished.

For the first time, they encountered a murderous intent from the painting during daylight.

Yan Qiling's face was as serene as an eternally frozen lake with ripples frozen in time:

"We should still split up."

"This time, it's different," Ming Yiyang refused. "Its power has been augmented, and the rules might have changed. From now on, I'll follow you."

Yan Qiling pulled Patland in front of him and covered his ears.

Blind to any sound, Patland blinked, but Ming Yiyang could now clearly hear the other person asking:

"Don't you want to know what spell made Yao Kunrui change? I'll tell you now."

Ming Yiyang instinctively didn't want to listen.

"The situation isn't right now. You can tell me later."

"That wasn't a spell, but a curse," Yan Qiling said. "To fulfill this curse, there must be hatred, not just ordinary dislike."

"What I can tell you is that in this world, two people once met this standard."

"Ada and Qi Yongxin, and now, there's Song Yuan."

The surroundings gradually fell into darkness, and Ming Yiyang was perplexed.

"Did you have to tell me all of this right now?"

"Certainly, it's crucial for both of us," Yan Qiling replied with an unprecedented seriousness. "As long as someone meets the criteria, they'll have to witness my resurrection."

The deformed wooden blade was sharp as ever, and a hint of irritation flickered in the young man's furrowed brows.

"I won't give them the chance to witness such a thing."

"Ming Yiyang, this is a curse. Once someone meets the standard, I will inevitably experience death and rebirth. And now, I can feel it."

The man spoke calmly, his words measured:

"This is my point of no return."

The youth turned to him abruptly, his translucent black eyes bottomless.

Yan Qiling explained the situation clearly:

"If I lose, the price is my life. If I win, the reward is to make someone who hates me 'love' me. It's not a pure love; they merely crave my flesh and soul, just as humans submit to the pleasures of their desires."

...This death curse is truly abhorrent.

The one who cast the curse not only wanted Yan Qiling to die but also wished for him to live in unrest.

"You go your way, and I'll go mine," Yan Qiling concluded. "We'll proceed as before. If you can sense me, come and save me."

"Agreed."

The young man responded.

Yan Qiling pulled Patland forward, taking a step ahead. In the moment that darkness engulfed them, a blazing white flame rose from behind them!

He spun around abruptly, only to find the youth with purple eyes staring at him coldly:

"What a load of nonsense! You risk life and limb for him but not for me. Do you treat me like an outsider?"

The malevolent spirits pressed upon them with unprecedented speed, but the white flames enveloped the trio entirely.

Without hesitation, Ming Yiyang slit his palm open. The dripping blood was like icy water poured into a boiling pot, stirring the entire space into a frenzy!

The edge of the bloodied blade pierced through the darkness, instantly creating a barrier-like wall.

Ming Yiyang was somewhat astonished by this situation himself.

He had initially thought that he would be extremely weak after being injured, but surprisingly, it seemed he had grown stronger?

Putting aside his confusion, he focused on dealing with the chaotic pressure around him.

In this silent space, he heard Yan Qiling sigh.

This man drew out a white paper fan to aid their pathfinding; the fan fluttered up and down, reflecting the bright flames, exuding a mesmerizing beauty imbued with power.

They walked through the darkness, as the only source of light.

Yet, the road seemed endless, stretching on indefinitely.

As time passed, the circle they could protect shrank smaller and smaller.

Ming Yiyang plunged the bloodstained blade into the soft darkness. Snow-white flames swirled around them like frothy bubbles, as if they were immersed in an ocean of black quicksand, awaiting a foreseeable slow death.

The young man knelt on one knee, his shoulders tense as he gritted his teeth and bore the pain.

His blood flowed incessantly from his wrist into the blade, like a serpentine crimson thread winding into the splashing flames, forcefully carving out a safe domain.

When the blood from his wrist wasn't enough to sustain the burning, Ming Yiyang was about to cut himself again when the man grabbed his bleeding wrist and the wound.

"Enough."

The usually jovial voice held no trace of amusement now, only the biting coldness of shattered glass scattered across the ground.

The pain of his wound being gripped made Ming Yiyang furrow his brow. He looked up and noticed the man's blue eyes had dimmed completely, leaving only the fiery red in his right eye glowing like molten lava.

An intimidating icy aura radiated from the man, causing the malevolent spirits that had been tightly entwined with him to retreat at a swift pace.

Yet...

Despite the intense burning of Qingdu Ziwu's Yin-Yang Eyes, Ming Yiyang couldn't perceive the origin of Yan Qiling's aura at all.

"Take care of yourself."

Yan Qiling said this before releasing his grip and turning to walk into the depths of darkness, as if he wouldn't look back again.

The young man used his damp and sticky palm to grab onto the collar of Yan Qiling's coat.

Yan Qiling was typically fastidious about cleanliness, but he didn't pull away, allowing the other person to hold on.

Ming Yiyang was too exhausted to speak.

He wasn't sure what he wanted to say either, and could only let out a few gasps from blood loss amidst the absolute silence.

"Who exactly are you?"