Chapter 50: Hoist with His Own Petard — The First Kill.

Chapter 50: Hoist with His Own Petard — The First Kill.

Outside the mourning hall.

The Royal Sword swept past, beheading the resentful ghost Li Ji.

Its head slowly fell downward, but before hitting the ground, it, along with its body, scattered into countless ethereal, bluish sand particles.

Fine and fragmented, like silk or mist, they returned to heaven and earth.

Li Daoxuan turned to look at Fu Yu.

"I regret that my efforts failed back then, unable to carry out the will of my half-teacher."

"Today, I thank Your Excellency for your enlightenment."

He raised both hands to his forehead and respectfully performed the half-teacher bow to Fu Yu.

Fu Yu accepted it nonchalantly—being bowed to wherever she went was the familiar, routine daily life she was accustomed to.

Unexpectedly, both had forgotten that Li Daoxuan's head was held on by a golden hoop. As he bowed, his head simply fell straight off.

Fu Yu: "..."

Li Daoxuan: "..."

Oh well. It didn't matter. Li Daoxuan had returned to dust and earth; he was now Li Xueke.

For Li Xueke, losing his head was no big deal.

"Hey—hey, where's my head—"

Li Xueke's head blinked frantically, while his headless body staggered forward, groping to retrieve it. But because the head and body were facing away from each other, he stumbled a few steps sideways, moving even farther away from his head.

Fu Yu: "..."

I can't even look, completely unbearable to watch.

As the resentful ghost Li Ji dissipated, this bizarre realm of rules was about to vanish completely from the world.

Yet, even as the realm ended, rules remained rules, unchangeable.

—One must answer the question correctly to leave.

The Paper Effigy Boy hopped down to the ground, tilted its head, and thought for a moment: "There is still one person who hasn't answered."

It vanished from the mourning hall in a whoosh, off to find that last person.

The Foxtail Grass Spirit's vision blurred as it left the realm, standing in the center of a ruin.

It was the first to give the correct answer and thus was sent out first.

Shaking the fluffy large foxtail on its head, it looked around—

This was the deepest burial chamber of the underground palace.

Though already collapsed and shattered, the majestic and solemn grandeur from thousands of years ago could still be glimpsed among the broken walls and ruins.

Dark cyan tomb stones were carved with ancient, weathered patterns; bronze tomb lamps burned faintly with millennium-old mermaid oil; towering pillars soared toward the sky; rows of tomb guardian beasts stared with piercing, intimidating eyes.

Ghost Lingjun and Lord Zhiwei were frozen in combat not far ahead.

Lord Zhiwei's Life-bound Sword pierced through Ghost Lingjun's chest, while Ghost Lingjun's folding fan sliced into Lord Zhiwei's vitals. Blood sprayed everywhere, and spiritual energy spilled out in all directions.

To the Foxtail Grass Spirit, this scene unfolded extremely slowly, like a bloody yet gorgeous painting gradually solidifying.

The battle between the two Dongxuan Cultivators had reached its final stage—both sides were wounded, heading toward mutual destruction. Whichever one left the realm first, the other was almost certainly doomed.

"Huh, these two are still frozen."

A weak, listless voice came from behind it.

It was Wu He.

Wu He, the second to answer correctly, swayed slightly, stepped forward, and peeked out from beside the Foxtail Grass Spirit.

The Foxtail Grass Spirit turned to speak to him, but its vision suddenly blurred again.

It "saw" a series of illusion-like scenes.

A familiar face passed by, striding forward with high spirits, followed by several Qingyun Sect disciples. Not far away was another group—Bao Hai and his party from the Ten Thousand Immortals Alliance.

The Foxtail Grass Spirit murmured blankly: "...the original fate."

In this moment of temporal overlap, it witnessed Lu Xingchen's life flashing before his eyes—the Human Emperor's tomb where no one survived.

When Lu Xingchen arrived at the Human Emperor's tomb, his cultivation was at the Golden Core stage.

Without two Dongxuan cultivators fighting to the point of shaking heaven and earth here, the Qingyun Sect and Ten Thousand Immortals Alliance teams spent considerable time finding the realm.

During this period, Lu Xingchen constantly competed with Bao Hai, outshining the fellow Golden Core cultivator at every turn, acting like the domineering, decisive male lead from storybooks.

And... he always seemed to intentionally or unintentionally display his charm in front of that female Ten Thousand Immortals Alliance disciple, trying to attract her attention.

Seeing such a scene today, the Foxtail Grass Spirit felt no ripple of emotion.

The more Lu Xingchen postured and preened, the more clearly it saw his underlying weakness—how insecure must one be to desperately adorn oneself with romantic entanglements?

When that female disciple genuinely showed admiration and affection for him, he began to mourn his deceased wife with deep sentiment, making the disciple pity him even more, showering him with sympathy and care.

Unfortunately, this brief romantic encounter did not last long.

On the first night inside the realm, the unlucky female disciple died at the hands of Blood Ghosts.

Lu Xingchen was quite regretful. For a couple of days afterward, at the usual time he would reminisce about his deceased wife, he silently murmured that female disciple's name instead.

The Foxtail Grass Spirit remained completely detached.

Following Lu Xingchen in the flashback, it saw him bustling about in a flashy, chaotic manner, getting several Qingyun Sect disciples around him killed, yet remaining utterly far from the truth.

As the seventh day approached, Lu Xingchen panicked.

He scurried around like a headless fly, occasionally losing control of his emotions, smashing tables and chairs, his eyes bloodshot, red like a rabbit's.

He was irritable, quick-tempered, pacing back and forth frantically, muttering under his breath—that he refused to believe he would die, that he would surely turn misfortune into blessing at the critical moment, that he was a prodigy destined to be saved by a great master who would take him as a disciple... such things.

The Foxtail Grass Spirit remembered how Lu Xingchen used to advise it, intentionally or not, that one must be self-reliant and independent, not always thinking of relying on Grandpa for everything.

It had taken that to heart back then, distancing itself from Grandpa for a while, refusing Grandpa's help in all matters, even losing its temper at him.

Thinking back on it now, Grandpa had clearly been very lonely back then, yet he still smiled, his eyes crinkling, and said his granddaughter had grown up... Its heart ached as if pricked by needles.

The Foxtail Grass Spirit pressed its lips together, its gaze sweeping over as the scenes from its life flashed before its eyes and reached the end.

On the seventh night, when the soul returns, the "ghost of Li Daoxuan" with a red mark on its forehead arrived with a sword in hand.

The two or three survivors exchanged glances, terrified and bewildered, unable to provide an answer.

"If it wasn't the Empress who killed him, then he must have committed suicide!" someone steeled their nerve and shouted with their eyes closed.

Lu Xingchen stared with trembling eyes at Li Daoxuan's ghost. Seeing it reveal a pleased and satisfied expression, he felt a wave of relief and echoed, "It was suicide."

It asked, "Are you certain that my death had nothing to do with my wife and child?"

"Yes!"

"Good, very good." The ghost smiled. "A very good answer."

Before Lu Xingchen could even sigh in relief, he saw his own body suddenly shatter into pieces, large chunks slowly falling toward the ground.

"You all got it wrong!" The Paper Effigy Boy wobbled out, his tone regretful.

Lu Xingchen's perspective grew lower and lower.

Just before his head was about to hit the ground and his consciousness completely vanished, he heard the Paper Effigy Boy exclaim, "Huh?" followed by, "One of them... isn't human."

*No survivors... no one... survived...*

The Foxtail Grass Spirit abruptly snapped back to reality!

While it was watching the flashback, less than half a breath of time had actually passed.

Wu He had just peered out from behind it, with huge dark circles under his eyes, and shot it a sidelong, gloomy glance. "What are you, spacing out?"

The Foxtail Grass Spirit jumped up. "Oh no, Master hasn't come out yet!"

According to the order of answering in the secret realm, after it came Wu He, after Wu He came Bao Hai, and after Bao Hai was Ghost Lingjun.

Ghost Lingjun was about to wake up!

No sooner had it spoken than Ghost Lingjun, pinned among the rubble by the longsword, suddenly coughed up a large mouthful of blood. "Pfft-cough!"

The Foxtail Grass Spirit and Wu He exchanged horrified looks.

"Die... die..."

Ghost Lingjun exhaled a bloody breath. "All of you... die..."

The face beneath the pale ghost mask twitched like a beast's. His gaze focused, locking onto Lord Zhiwei who was nearby.

He narrowed his eyes slightly.

He remembered strangling Lord Zhiwei in the secret realm.

The thought had just crossed his mind when a shout came from not too far away: "Who would have thought the Chief Eunuch was actually the Patriarch Qingyun of the Qingyun Sect! How devious he is!"

Ghost Lingjun's pupils contracted violently!

In an instant, countless things that had felt very wrong found their answers.

No wonder this Chief Eunuch had taken a dislike to him at first sight, testing and obstructing him at every turn.

No wonder he had been cornered in the woodshed right after killing someone—it turned out he had fallen into the other's trap.

Well, well. So it's Patriarch Qingyun.

But all your scheming was for nothing? The one who came out first is me!

Ghost Lingjun sneered. *"Blood Kill!"*

Ignoring the sword impaling him, he forced his hand into a claw, pressed it to his side, and clutched the air violently!

While vomiting blood, he focused all his attention on drawing out Lord Zhiwei's spiritual blood and unleashed the spell with explosive force.

"Boom—boom boom boom boom!"

A series of muffled blood explosions erupted inside Lord Zhiwei's body.

Lord Zhiwei's spirit was detached, offering almost no defense. He was instantly blasted through and through, his meridians and body oozing blood like a sieve.

If Ghost Lingjun's injuries hadn't been so severe, this strike would have been fatal.

"Cough! Ugh—"

After forcibly overexerting himself, Ghost Lingjun's condition also plummeted to rock bottom. Dark blood seeped from the corner of his mouth as he choked on blood and gasped for breath in large gulps.

He was completely drained of strength, unable to pull out the longsword impaling his body, nor capable of retrieving his life-bound folding fan from within Lord Zhiwei.

The muscles around Ghost Lingjun's eyes twitched and contorted spasmodically.

Remembering all the harm and humiliation the Chief Eunuch had inflicted on him in the secret realm, new hatred piled upon old grievances surged in his heart. He wished he could tear the man's flesh from his bones and eat it raw.

If he could pull out the fan, he would immediately slit Lord Zhiwei's throat and slice him into pieces for hot pot.

He only hated that he was as powerless as a dead dog at this moment.

He needed to catch his breath, gather a bit of strength... He needed to recover some strength quickly...

Ghost Lingjun's gaze shifted sinisterly, locking onto the other few survivors nearby.

"You, come here!" Ghost Lingjun said in a dark voice. "Help this lord kill him, and this lord will reward you handsomely!"

The Foxtail Grass Spirit and Wu He exchanged a glance and retreated instead of advancing.

They weren't fools.

Ghost Lingjun's cultivation techniques were so sinister—Blood Kill, puppets... Approaching now would just make them blood bags for him to drain, wouldn't it?

Seeing that this human and this grass weren't falling for it, Ghost Lingjun bared his upper lip like a beast, his five fingers trembling as he made a grasping motion.

Countless blood-stained long threads slowly crawled out from beneath him, like wriggling worms and vines, spreading and climbing in all directions.

The Foxtail Grass Spirit and Wu He gasped, grabbing each other's arms and staggering backward to dodge.

"Thud!"

Suddenly, a figure jumped down from atop the white stone monument.

The Foxtail Grass Spirit trembled all over, leaping up excitedly. "Master!"

Fuyu landed beside Ghost Lingjun.

She lowered her head, meeting Ghost Lingjun's gaze beneath the mask.

For a moment, Ghost Lingjun could hardly believe it.

"Xie... Fu... Yu?!"

Confirming it was her, Ghost Lingjun couldn't help but burst into wild laughter, the corners of his lips stretching almost to his ears.

The blood threads seeping from beneath him suddenly retracted, no longer spreading in all directions. Instead, they writhed sinisterly, converging toward Fuyu.

The Foxtail Grass Spirit nervously warned, "Master, be careful of the threads!"

"Thud! Thud! Thud!"

Not far away, Li Xueke stumbled out with several unsteady steps, instinctively raising his hands to cradle his head. "My head, my head!"

"Fwip."

A small, thin object wriggled out from inside his robe, raising two tiny paper arms to prop up his chin. "Master, your head is still there."

Li Xueke looked down in horror and let out a shriek, "...How can this ghostly thing still follow me out?!"

By now, aside from Lord Zhiwei, all survivors had escaped the secret realm.

Countless tense gazes fell upon Fuyu.

At this moment, Ghost Lingjun's blood threads had twisted into a coiled, serpentine mass resembling old tree roots.

It slowly rose behind Fuyu, reaching a height taller than a person.

It was about to swoop down, enveloping her, then pierce her features and skin one by one, subjecting her to a living hell.

"Hiss..."

The blood creature suddenly opened its enormous maw!

Like a carnivorous flower petal abruptly blooming, it savagely lunged downward from above!

Ignoring the danger behind her, Fuyu raised her hand and gently placed it on Ghost Lingjun's immobile head.

She leaned down and asked, "Take a good look. Who am I?"

Ghost Lingjun's body trembled slightly, his pupils contracting and dilating in an instant.

He struggled to manipulate the blood threads to attack her.

The moment they touched her skin, a familiar aura surged forth wildly, overwhelming him completely.

Ghost Lingjun's spirit was shaken, "...Madam?!"

Why, why, why was he clearly trying to kill Xie Fuyu, yet the blood threads sensed the aura of his Madam?

Madam... Madam...

He could never mistake the aura of his Madam.

Fuyu gave a cold smile. The chaotic spiritual energy she had obtained from Venerable Yunshang surged out in waves, crashing against Ghost Lingjun's teetering consciousness, utterly shattering his rational defenses.

Having fought Lord Zhiwei to this point, Ghost Lingjun was already extremely weak, his breath faint.

The forced overexertion from the Blood Killing Technique moments ago left him unable to muster any willpower.

In his daze, his pupils unfocused, and the scene before him abruptly changed.

"Giggle, giggle, giggle..."

A charming, silvery laughter came from not far away.

He tilted his head slightly, squinting his eyes to look out.

Countless crimson veils danced before his eyes, rising and falling, their warm fragrance enveloping him.

His Madam was deep within the cloud-like veils.

She waved her delicate hands, calling to him softly, "Come here, come here!"

Ghost Lingjun's body felt heavy, as if filled with icy molten iron—cold, heavy, and aching everywhere.

During the life-and-death struggle, he had ignored the pain, but once he relaxed, his severe injuries immediately flared up, aching to the point of itching, unbearably intense.

He frowned, gritting his teeth.

"Come keep me company, come here. Once you're here, it won't hurt anymore!"

Her figure danced gracefully behind the veils, light as a butterfly.

He raised his hand, forcefully tearing apart the veils before him.

Shred by shred, they fell apart.

"What are you doing~"

The figure hidden behind layers of veils fluttered over, raising a jade-like finger draped with several veils to cover the back of his hand.

Strand by strand, thread by thread, they wound around him, enveloping him.

He instinctively wanted to resist, but she suddenly leaned close. Through several layers of veil, her fingertip touched his chest as she softly laughed and asked, "Why do you always hide women's clothing beneath your robes?"

Ghost Lingjun's body stiffened. As his eyes flickered and he pursed his lips, pondering how to answer, the crimson veils inadvertently entangled his hand.

Her laughter seemed both near and far, "Why didn't you want me to know? Was it because you were mocked before? Mocked for liking to dress as a woman, for singing in a theatrical voice? Mocked for being as beautiful as a woman?"

Ghost Lingjun trembled faintly.

She lifted the veils again, winding them up his arm, "But I already know. The fox spirit hidden in the room is you yourself—I wouldn't despise you. So, would you despise me?"

Ghost Lingjun instinctively replied, "How could I possibly despise you!"

"Then look at me, alright?" She murmured softly, gently, lifting layer after layer of red veils, letting them fall upon him.

Ghost Lingjun felt warmth.

So warm...

The familiar aura permeated his surroundings, making his heart grow lazily content.

The warm, fragrant red veils covered him, dispelling the lingering cold and heaviness that clung to his body, leaving him feeling somewhat light and euphoric.

He loved being with his wife.

Being with her meant warmth and softness, meant endless pleasure.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, reached out, and pulled her from behind the red veils, looking down…

"Hiss!"

Her delicate body was still as beautiful as ever, but her face…

He forced himself to suppress the urge to retreat as this flat, mutilated face moved, speaking in a sweet, charming voice to him: "You know I can restore my beauty. Don’t you miss my original appearance?"

Ghost Lingjun nodded. "Yes."

She breathed softly, like an orchid: "Then… give me your face. Don't you hate your own feminine beauty? So, give it to me, won’t you?"

She raised her hand and cupped his face.

Innumerable red veils densely wrapped around him, binding his head, his shoulders, his neck.

It was warm. So warm that one only wanted to sink into it.

Without hesitation, he acquiesced. "Alright."

She said, "It will hurt a little. Can you bear it?"

Ghost Lingjun gave a short laugh. "Of course I can."

He had not only seen her drain the vitality from women before but had often helped.

Such harm was but a minor injury to him.

She asked, "Shall I begin?"

He nodded. "Mm."

"Bang!"

Suddenly, agony struck!

Ghost Lingjun gritted his teeth, making no sound.

After a brief pause, the terrifying agony returned.

Pain… dull pain… sharp pain… the horrifying pain from his forehead and the bridge of his nose was unbearable.

Wh-what!

For his wife to devour his face… it was *this* painful?

As he was still reeling in shock, blow after blow followed, as if his soul were being beaten out of his body. A chilling sensation of near-death washed over him, and a profound terror seized Ghost Lingjun.

No… no!

This wasn’t absorbing vitality and beauty.

He'd been… tricked!

He should be in the Human Emperor’s tomb, having fought Lord Zhiwei to a standstill.

In an instant, it felt like falling into an icy abyss.

Ghost Lingjun struggled desperately and finally snapped his eyes open!

In his blurred, blood-red vision, he vaguely saw the cold, swinging arc of a paperweight.

In that moment, he suddenly understood how his wife had died.

Xie! Fu! Yu!

Instinctively, he wanted to fight back, only to find he had trapped himself—his head, face, shoulders, neck, and arms were all entangled in his own blood threads.

Layer upon layer, dense and intricate, like the red veils in his delusion.

He had willingly walked into his own blood-killing technique.

Too late…

His earlier manly endurance of pain had sent him hurtling toward the abyss of death.

Fu Yu smiled. "Your soul is locked by Lord Zhiwei’s Life-bound Sword, isn’t it? That saves a lot of trouble."

She raised her hand and brought it down.

"Die quickly. I’m in a hurry."