Chapter 162: God’s Favor (11)

Chapter 162: Divine Favor (Part Eleven)

It seemed to be the outskirts of a certain fortified city, towering walls visible in the distance, atop which soldiers with weapons in hand were stationed.

The harsh sun scorched from above, with not a single blade of grass to be seen in the vicinity. The ground was parched and cracked, yet saturated with the blood of an unknown creature.

It seemed to be a year of famine in ancient times...

As Zhang Daoan pondered this, a stout and short figure suddenly emerged from the ground.

“Master Xie!” The stout figure wiped the sweat from his forehead, a mix of subtle fear and fortuitous relief on his face upon seeing a savior, “Master, that evil spirit has already slaughtered hundreds! We are no match for it, please, we beg you to subdue the evil spirit and restore peace to this place!”

Xie Fangcheng glanced at the sword in his hand, having a vague impression that it should have been golden recently, and his attire should have been green...

Why was he having such strange thoughts?

Xie Fangcheng unconsciously brandished his sword, creating a flourish.

“I understand.”

The stout figure sighed in relief, bowing to him before quickly burrowing back into the ground.

Xie Fangcheng flexed his wrists to loosen them up.

“Before I get down to business...”

He suddenly turned, his gaze fixing directly on where Zhang Daoan was positioned.

It was only at this moment that Zhang Daoan got a clear view of his appearance.

With a mane of white hair, his forehead adorned with a bizarre black pattern reminiscent of countless sword shadows ensnared in thorns, the significance of which remained unclear.

Under the glaring sun, the blinding pale light rendered his even paler face ghostly. His lips were vivid red, and under his sharp black eyebrows, one eye was black and the other white, creating a bewitching and somewhat eerie countenance that paradoxically conveyed a strange sense of solemnity.

In the moment of Zhang Daoan's distraction, the man before him closed in swiftly.

It was ostensibly Xie Fangcheng's dreamscape, where Zhang Daoan, as a "spectator", should have remained undetected. Yet not only did Xie Fangcheng notice him, he lunged at Zhang Daoan in the blink of an eye, seizing him by the throat.

Strictly speaking, what hovered within Xie Fangcheng's dreamscape was merely a thought projection of Zhang Daoan, not his spirit. Yet, even as an incorporeal entity, Zhang Daoan could distinctly feel the grip tightening around his neck.

Oblivious, Zhang Daoan gazed at the eerily sinister face just a hand's breadth away from his own.

So this is what his real form looks like?

"Huh?" Xie Fangcheng couldn't help but express his perplexity after grasping the entity.

He sensed an intrusion, and it seemed like he had caught something when he rushed over, but there was clearly nothing in his hand.

Another strange little ghost, perhaps?

Xie Fangcheng scratched his head, somewhat puzzled.

He could feel that this entity peering at him was highly unusual, emanating a dense, malevolent aura typical of fierce ghosts, yet without the accompanying stench of decay, indicating it hadn't committed any atrocious deeds.

How strange.

Becoming a fierce ghost requires meeting stringent conditions, and once transformed, controlling one's murderous urges becomes extremely challenging, as ghosts have a very narrow diet, nourishing themselves solely through the living, resulting in almost all fierce ghosts committing killings.

A new ghost, perhaps? It didn't seem so. Even the somewhat insensitive Xie Fangcheng could sense the heavy malevolent aura.

Moreover... why did this aura seem somewhat familiar?

Holding onto this indefinable entity, he finally let go.

"Forget it, since you haven't committed any killings, it's better to reincarnate sooner," he said, tucking his sword under his arm. From his pocket—yes, his black robe surprisingly featured a pocket similar to trouser pockets.

He retrieved a notebook from it, using his fingertip as a pen to quickly jot down a few lines. Tearing the page, he affixed it in Zhang Daoan's direction, the sheet gracefully landing in Zhang Daoan's hand.

Zhang Daoan looked down.

Urgent Recommendation for Reincarnation.

Discovered a fierce ghost today, in the year XX, month XX, during an external assignment. Currently without karmic hindrances attached, considering the potential to develop bad habits over an extended stay in the human realm, I hereby urgently recommend reincarnation through the underworld.

Recommender: Xie Fangcheng.

"Take this and find a local City God to assist you, bypass the standard reincarnation procedures."

Considering the current workload at the underworld, even a fierce ghost would struggle to find a service window, forced to queue alongside the regular spirits.

Waiting in line might cause issues that could potentially affect prospects in the next life.

I’ve always said that the procedures in their department are too cumbersome and prone to issues, but no one listens now.

With some recuperating and others in retreat, it turns out that Jie Fangcheng, who usually handles paperwork underground, has to periodically venture above ground for fieldwork.

Upon receiving this note, Zhang Daoan couldn't help but pause.

Just as he was stunned, a whistle sound rang in his ears.

The whistle echoed through both the yin and yang realms. From afar, a majestic horse with hooves treading on ghostly blue flames sped towards them. Swirls of black mist enveloped the horse, and with each step, it seemed like drops of fresh blood fell and scorched the ground, leaving burnt, black hoof marks that disappeared in the blink of an eye.

The steed neighed loudly as it approached Jie Fangcheng, lifting its front hooves high in the air.

Jie Fangcheng leapt onto it, gripping the reins tightly, and dashed towards the direction of the fierce ghost.

The wind howled fiercely, with the horse covering a hundred steps in a single leap. The rapidly receding landscape and the fluttering black robe and white hair of the rider painted a dynamic scene, as the sole spectator in the dream followed along in the frantic charge.

In a blink, the steed crossed the barren land and entered an empty village.

Under the blindingly bright sunlight, the village seemed to be enveloped in a gloomy mist, amidst which, faint cries of human lament could be heard.

Jie Fangcheng dismounted, and the horse affectionately nudged him before reluctantly disappearing into the thin air.

The fog seemed to sense his presence, churning restlessly.

Sword in hand, Jie Fangcheng entered the haunted village.

The village was littered with corpses.

The bodies on the ground were mangled beyond recognition, looking as though they were torn apart by beasts. Limbs, torsos, and heads were all separated, making it impossible to identify the exact number or distinguish between men, women, old or young.

The lingering spirits wailed sorrowfully, and under an old tree in the village, a woman in hemp clothing held a withered infant beside a blood-filled cauldron that was aflame.

"Don't be afraid, little treasure, don't be afraid..." she hummed a soul-soothing melody, gently patting her lifeless child.

Jie Fangcheng sighed, stepping over the land covered in corpses.

"Liu Yechun, you've killed 347 innocent people. Your sins are too grave to allow you another chance at reincarnation."

Liu Yechun raised her head.

Her eyes were already milky white, her face marked with bite scars, and her neck streaked with blood.

"Innocents?"

In the mist, the fierce ghost let out a jeering laugh, amplifying the surrounding cries of the tormented souls.

"Innocent... What innocence did they possess?!"

This year saw a great drought, with no harvest from the fields. At first, the villagers scrimped and saved, holding out in the village as they awaited the lifesaving grain distribution from the city.

But as they waited, and waited—until the food stock at home was depleted, the only river had dried up, and the bark from the trees on the hills had been gnawed clean, and people in the village had started dying of hunger—the city gates remained tightly shut.

Liu Yechun’s older brother, who owned a shop in the city, secretly sent her a message.

Relief supplies from the court had long since arrived, but they were first given to the affluent households in the city who were not short of food, to be sold for profit.

Thinking of her newborn, her brother scrounged a bit of food for her through scrimping and saving.

Holding this precious ration, Liu Yechun discussed with her husband about fleeing to another place.

No one had expected that just after nightfall, a weeping woman from next door would come knocking.

"My eldest and second sons have starved to death, my husband is dead too. Only my son and I remain, and he’s so hungry he’s chewing on his own hand. I’d feed him my blood and flesh if I could, but there’s not much left of me to offer."

The two families had been close. Liu Yechun had just given birth to her first child, and this neighbor had offered immeasurable help.

Her heart softened, and she eventually shared a small portion of her food from her supplies.

The woman left overjoyed, and Liu Yechun originally thought she had done a good deed.

But she never expected that in the dead of night, after her family had fallen into a deep sleep, several figures quietly snuck in.

Seeing the sack of grains securely pinned under Liuye Chun's husband's head, the intruders, who initially just wanted to steal food, decided to go all out. With a swift motion, they severed his head.

Blood sprayed onto Liuye Chun's face, jolting her awake.

But what good did it do?

She hadn't had a full meal in so long that she had no strength left. She looked on helplessly at the faces of her familiar neighbors and villagers, faces now twisted by foreign greed and murderous intent.

They took the food, then hesitated before deciding to move her husband's lifeless body.

Liuye Chun knew what they planned to do. In the village, whenever someone died, some families would have meat to eat.

She wanted to cry, but her body no longer had the moisture to shed tears.

She hugged her child, Xiao Bao, in that blood-soaked room, not knowing how she survived till dawn.

As day broke, Liuye Chun struggled to her feet, planning to seek help from her sister-in-law next door.

But as she stepped outside, several young men from the village were leaving her neighbor's house, carrying two corpses.

Her sister-in-law from next door had not been the first to find Liuye Chun yesterday; she had knocked on countless doors in tears.

But who now had any surplus grain to spare for her?

By the time she reached Liuye Chun's door, the once-teary woman had stopped crying. Soon after, it even seemed like a fire was lit in her home.

Who could be unaware of what had transpired?

Liuye Chun collapsed to the ground.

At that moment, the village elders arrived with a group of people.

They assumed that if Liuye Chun could spare some grain for others, her family might have more hidden away.

But how could she have any more? The little she had was given to her by her city-dwelling siblings.

When they found nothing after searching her home, Liuye Chun was strung up from a village tree. Despite the excruciating pain of the whipping, her eyes were dull, and she couldn't even scream.

Seeing a "grain source" in front of them yet unable to access it, the village elder ordered her child to be taken.

Upon seeing her child, Liuye Chun begged relentlessly, her voice hoarse from shouting, but it was futile.

These villagers, they set up a pot and boiled water, forcing a mother to watch as her own child was cooked alive.

Liuye Chun knew she must already be dead.

She "saw" herself shedding tears of blood, her mouth torn from screaming and cursing, "saw" herself finally being taken down from the tree, her eyes still wide open in death.

She also "saw" herself being put into the same pot of soup that had cooked her child.

The flames roared, the pot filled with broth, as a once-kind-hearted mother and child met their tragic end here.

A clap of thunder reverberated through the sky.

Why...

By what right?!

A fierce wind arose, toppling over the simmering pot.

Those who stood by the pot with bowls in hand hurried to stabilize it, only for a mist to suddenly envelop them.

Liu Ye Chun, cradling her child, materialized within the fog.

She patted her child in her arms in a frenzied, yet tender, manner.

"Don't be afraid, Little Treasure; you won't be hungry," she cooed, as her cooked white eyes rotated to gaze at the fleeing villagers.

"Fear not... we will never go hungry again."

The woman, who once hesitated even to kill a chicken, slaughtered everyone in sight—men, women, young, and old—until not a single soul remained in the village, transforming it into a ghost town.

Still not enough.

Everyone must die!

Those in the village deserve to die, as do those in the city! Everyone!!

Her resentment surged with each killing; by the time Jie Fang Cheng arrived, specialists had already intervened.

But guarding this ghost village and these aggrieved spirits, Liu Yechun's power grew at an alarming rate, nearly overwhelming the two novices dispatched by the Underworld.

It just so happened that Jie Fangcheng was nearby, and he had to step in on short notice.

At that moment, Liu Yechun, holding the resentful infant spirit in her arms, experienced a sudden growth in her hair as her entire figure radiated a pale hue.

"What wrong have I done?!"

She and her husband were clearly always kind-hearted people. Why, then?!

The vengeful spirit lunged forward with sharp nails, but Jie Fangcheng wielded a colossal sword, and with a couple of swift movements, Liu Yechun was sent flying.

Tears of blood streamed down from her eyes.

"Are you a servant of the Underworld? People talk about the cycles of retribution, the karmic wheel! Where was it when those demons killed my husband and cooked my child?! Why do you only intervene when I seek vengeance?!"

Jie Fangcheng remained silent.

"Hahaha... You have no answers, do you?!" Liu Yechun laughed bitterly, clutching the skeletal remains of her child tightly, "Divine justice? Is there even such a thing?!!"

Boom—

The sky was shrouded in dark clouds, with bolts of lightning flashing ominously.

Jie Fangcheng instantly moved in front of her, brandishing his enormous sword to counter the descending lightning.

A ghost unable to re-enter the cycle of reincarnation could only be dispersed, fragmented — the saying "struck by thunder" literally referred to the shattering of the spirit.

At that moment, Jie Fangcheng's sword managed to disperse the thunderous strike, leaving Liu Yechun staring at him in shock.

After deflecting the lightning, Jie Fangcheng hesitated briefly.

"Would you like to see your husband and son again?"