Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 154: Pacify the Top

Jiang Youyue had a broader perspective than Qu Duanyun and quickly saw through the ruse of the Kushan Sect.

This whole thing was a trap from the beginning.

Monk Juehui and Protector Hua were merely bait to lower their guard. Likely, before confirming that the “Immortal Assembly had killed several warriors”, the Kushan Sect had already employed other tactics, convincing various sects to ambush nearby. With the rumors of rebellion everywhere and bandits and refugees gathered nearby, the mixture of presences was chaotic. If the martial arts circles hid far enough, they wouldn’t be able to discern the truth.

After that, the Kushan Sect just needed to keep their attention. Outside reinforcements could quietly prepare for battle without revealing themselves prematurely.

To achieve their goal, the Child of Desire actually threw himself on the front line.

Jiang Youyue’s ears buzzed, his head felt as if pierced by a million tiny needles. His heart was torn in half: half relieved at the Child of Desire’s cunning and strength, and half anxious about the bizarre situation.

The Twin Roots was beautifully executed. With the support of the Chigou Sect, it wasn’t surprising that the Kushan Sect obtained it. What was strange were their actions.

Shi Jingzhi’s meridians were clearly pushed to their limit. Vital qi was constantly being drained by the flesh idol. With such external force, his body would deteriorate even faster. Yin Ci was connected to the Hanging Tree which made their fates intertwined; there was no way it would end well.

What did “won’t die” mean?

Unfortunately, he could no longer think clearly.

It was like rising from the silent depths to the surface, a myriad of vivid colors crashing into view, and a cacophony of noises flooding his ears. The wilderness, once quiet and empty, was now filled with martial artists who had come especially for this. There were shouts everywhere, the clashing of weapons like the wild grasses of spring; first sporadic and then forming a dense sea. Swords clashed, and cold blades spun through the air. People poured in from all directions, forming a torrent of battle intent.

The heavens and the earth thundered, as if about to collapse.

The True Immortal could only summon a limited number of enchanted puppets. They were no match for the revenge-seeking martial artists. Beautiful-like puppets were torn apart, twitching as they fell. The Taiheng Sect surrounded Qu Duanyun and Jiang Youyue, effectively separating the two from the True Immortal. Shi Zhongyu directed the elders, and behind Shi Jingzhi, the gathered vital qi was swelling, almost bursting.

The True Immortal, with the Hanging Tree as its core, had no concept of face or shame. With the poison fire burning incessantly and Shi Jingzhi replenishing his vital qi, it saw the disadvantage and tried to liquefy itself to escape—

A hand pierced through the fleshy mass.

Yin Ci, using all his strength, slammed into the shapeless fleshy mass. The True Immortal was a beat too slow, and the chants of the “Woodless Sutra” drew closer. The monks of the Jianchen Temple, already adept at dealing with bizarre magic, repeatedly interfered with its techniques, making escape impossible.

Yin Ci embraced the shapeless mass, his half-burnt face showing a smile.

Monk Juehui returned as well. The old monk looked up at the writhing fleshy mass in the sky with a complicated expression. Monk Zhixing, as usual, was right behind him, now utterly shocked.

“Master-master what is that?”

“Just a demon.”

The True Immortal finally realized it was in trouble. It no longer tried to flee or summon winds and rain. The flesh mass contracted, and numerous rigid tendrils shot out in all directions. Over ten members of the Chigou Sect couldn’t dodge and were instantly skewered. Six or seven chanting monks were pierced through their foreheads, creating gaps in their tight encirclement.

The chanting volume dropped, and the True Immortal attempted to use its techniques to harm again. Black clouds rolled, and a fierce wind began. Monk Juehui sighed and waved his arm—

Countless prayer beads were thrown into the wild wind, landing perfectly in Shi Jingzhi’s hand. Staring intently at the deformed True Immortal, he channeled the accumulated surge of vital qi.

Just like at the Ghost Tomb, the beads grew frenziedly. They wrapped around the thrashing True Immortal like spider silk, binding it into a ball. Yin Ci pierced several holes in it, just enough for the beads to thread through.

However, the torrent of vital qi hadn’t been exhausted and continued to rush through Shi Jingzhi’s meridians.

His eyes glowed a deep red while blood poured out from his seven orifices. The wound on his throat reopened, spewing pinkish foam. He staggered towards the violently struggling True Immortal, with magic-induced lightning occasionally exploding at his feet.

“Zizhu.”

He murmured with a smile, reaching out to Yin Ci as if to embrace him. The fog in the distance dissipated, revealing the silhouette of Kushan, unchanged from twenty-four years ago.

“I’ve come to take you away.”

Shi Jingzhi whispered, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He tried to pierce the True Immortal with his Hanging Shadow Sword, but he didn’t even have the strength to hold the sword.

One hand supported him.

Yin Ci stumbled to the ground, barely leaning on Shi Jingzhi. He lifted his hand that still had exposed bone, covering Shi Jingzhi’s right hand that was holding the sword.

“Okay.” Yin Ci’s voice was calm and relaxed, just like the first time in the maple forest.

Just as he finished speaking, he suddenly exerted force on his hand. The Hanging Shadow Sword, pushed by Yin Ci, deeply pierced into the True Immortal’s body.

With a loud bang, the ground shook even more violently.

The members of the righteous Taiheng, all with their profound inner force, found an outlet for their vital qi. Black flames burned as if exploding. The formless flesh quivered and was once again covered by black flames.

This time the fire was fierce, and its regeneration visibly slowed down. The flesh mass transformed into humanoid chunks, which were then burnt to fragments. Billowing black smoke rose to the sky, and the gathered dark clouds dispersed once more.

People from all directions approached. Seeing the elders of Taiheng sending their inner force with flushed faces, they followed suit. 

Jiang Youyue was horrified, his voice almost hoarse.

“Stop!” he shouted. “You’re destroying the foundation of Great Yun!!!”

No one paid him any attention.

“If you continue to burn, calamities will come, and injuries won’t heal! It’s just a few mortals that die. You—”

Still, no one paid him any attention.

His voice was drowned out by the joyful conversations of the martial artists, many of whom reveled in the satisfaction of defeating their enemies. Jiang Youyue shouted till he was hoarse, spitting out blood in anger. These mortals were so foolish; they didn’t even know what they were burning.

Mortals were indeed this foolish…

Finally, the True Immortal’s body no longer produced tiny roots. Flames crackled and burnt, and the chunks of flesh gradually turned into burnt ash. Whether it was an illusion or not, there seemed to be a sigh of relief from the ashes.

Yin Ci, too, was disintegrating.

His body, which was already in tatters, crumbled rapidly. Before everyone’s eyes, his legs turned to dust first, followed by his torso, arms, and shoulders. He fell next to Shi Jingzhi, leaving only a burning head and a charred spine. The red tendrils moved weakly, quickly withering.

Shi Jingzhi held that head in his arms, staring unblinkingly ahead—

Nearby, the curled bare branches broke from their roots. They appeared before everyone, twitching uncontrollably, and then withered with no sign of regrowth.

As the main branches disappeared, the outermost roots were the first to “disconnect”. In Shi Jingzhi’s embrace, Yin Ci’s head became motionless, like the bare branches, only some dying red tendrils remained on the surface.

“Amitabha, my condolences.”

Zhixing approached cautiously. He didn’t understand the situation, but seeing Yin Ci burned to just a head, he felt sorrow. They shared a bond like that of a master and disciple, and seeing Shi Jingzhi clutching that head, he must have been devastated.

“Patron Yin, he…”

Zhixing’s words were cut off by Shi Jingzhi’s sudden action.

Shi Jingzhi took a deep breath, using his last strength to bite through his relatively intact right palm. With everyone watching in confusion, he pressed his bleeding hand onto the top of that human head, amidst the red tendrils.

“Come.”

The blood flowed over the charred head, and Shi Jingzhi’s voice was soft and gentle. The Hanging Shadow Sword fell to the ground, breaking into pieces after absorbing too much vital qi.

“Considering size and vitality, I can’t match the Hanging Tree. But if they created a replica of me based on it… I can also learn a thing or two from the Hanging Tree.”

The withered tendrils paused for a moment upon contact with the blood. Then they greedily absorbed the vital qi, even crawling into Shi Jingzhi’s wound.

As the wound tore and blood vessels invaded, Shi Jingzhi broke out in a cold sweat. But he remained still, allowing the tendrils to infiltrate his body.

They rooted into his organs, greedily taking in vital qi. The pain felt as if his insides were being ground by stones. Tears and sweat covered Shi Jingzhi’s face.

Yet, he never let go of the head.

The scene that followed caused everyone to take a step back.

The tendrils, filled with vital qi, began to actively move again. They interwove into bones, muscles, hair, and skin. Starting from that head, Yin Ci’s body gradually took shape. In contrast, Shi Jingzhi looked visibly drained, and soft groans could be heard from his throat.

As Yin Ci regained his vitality, the red tendrils connecting the two became transparent and vanished.

“Make way! All of you, out of my way!” Su Si shouted as he charged through the crowd, placing his hands on Shi Jingzhi’s back. “You all get scared by such a small incident? If you’re not helping, then stay out of the way!”

The scene was eerily bizarre, something even the demonic sect hadn’t witnessed before. Everyone was already in shock, but when this man shouted at them, they snapped back to reality a bit—Patriarch Su’s reprimand was so justified, it sounded like it was just another mundane occurrence.

Is the Kushan Sect even more unorthodox than the usual unorthodox sects?

“Everyone…hiss…come this way.” Yan Qing, leaning on his Sword of Compassion, grimaced in cooperation. “That’s a secret technique from the Mishan Sect. Everyone, stay calm! Abbot Juehui, you—”

Monk Juehui got the hint and coughed twice. “The Immortal Assembly harbors and nurtures evil spirits, causing harm to the innocent. The evidence is clear. This evil spirit is powerful; there might be some remnants of its evil. Everyone should…”

The old monk’s words were gravely significant. Everyone immediately retreated another dozen steps, leaving the eminent monks to deal with the strange remains on the ground. Monk Juehui shook his head, took off his cassock, and draped it over the nearly naked master and disciple. He then placed his hand on Shi Jingzhi’s shoulder, infusing his meridians with his profound and gentle qi.

Yin Ci’s body had mostly recovered, without a trace of scars or burnt marks on his skin. He was in a deep slumber, like a bottomless pit devouring qi. Shi Jingzhi, already severely blood-deprived, was now completely drained, looking on the verge of passing out. He strained to keep his back straight, tears, sweat, and blood mingling and dripping onto Yin Ci’s hair.

“Now, you and I are… even closer than a married couple.”

He trembled as he grasped the tip of Yin Ci’s hair, managing a difficult smile.

“We had a deal about a grand wedding procession, winter-end lanterns… You better…not back out…”

Shi Jingzhi’s voice grew fainter. Just as he was about to close his eyes, a warm fingertip pressed against his lips.

“I remember everything.”

Yin Ci opened his eyes, which shimmered a pale amber. His finger moved up Shi Jingzhi’s cheek, wiping away the latter’s tears. There was a fresh vitality in his eyes, all traces of his previous ruined state gone. Those eyes then turned towards the Imperial Preceptor, revealing a sharp intent.

“But Your Highness, I still have some remnants to deal with… Can you wait a little longer?”

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Kinky Thoughts:

The title of this chapter is (抚顶) . This is a term that basically describes touching the top (of someone’s head). In Buddhist context, it’s a ritual gesture where a monk or master would place his hand on the disciple’s head, symbolizing the transmission of blessings, teachings, or even spiritual power.

This is often seen in ordination ceremonies or when a master acknowledges a disciple’s progress or dedication.

In this case, it’s literally that, except Shi Jingzhi is transferring his vital qi to Yin Ci to save him.

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