Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 101: A Single Thread to Sever Heaven

Dian’er clutched the shattered remains of the Yellow Millet Calamity and wept with fat, heavy tears.

In the small motel room, only Bai Shuangying was still standing. All the humans had collapsed in sleep.

Four of them lay unconscious on the floor. Mei Lan, completely exhausted, had fallen onto a corpse. Even the usually slippery Fang Xiu was fast asleep. Held in the arms of his own seductive ghost, his arms were limp and unresponsive no matter how loudly anyone called him.

Dian’er and Bai Shuangying stared at each other: “……”

“Oh dear, how did it end up smashed?”

With a long sigh, Dian’er tried to piece together the wreckage. “You all dragged that girl out of the dream, so how did it break?”

Bai Shuangying gave no response, his face set in the blank expression of someone who “doesn’t understand human speech.”

Dian’er heaved a big sigh. It wiped its tears and tottered over to Meng Xiaomeng, pressing a hand to her forehead. A few seconds later, its papery features furrowed deeply with frown lines.

“Three souls incomplete, memory fragmented?”

It checked again and again, not wanting to believe it. Its strange paper face stretched into a sour grimace. “This… Haa.”

It looked hopelessly at Bai Shuangying, who still wore the blank look of a ghost who “doesn’t know anything.”

From the mortal world to the Disaster Relief Tower, Bai Shuangying kept his expression of total confusion flawlessly intact.

Only when Fang Xiu woke did his expression finally change…

As soon as he opened his eyes, his ghost pressed a kiss to his lips. Fang Xiu instinctively stiffened, then relaxed when he felt the softness of a mattress beneath him. He gently wrapped his arms around Bai Shuangying’s neck.

The little black dog leapt onto the bed with a bark, wagging its tail wildly and yapping at Fang Xiu.

Fang Xiu didn’t know how long he’d slept. But Bai Shuangying was clearly starving, and the dog looked like it thought he’d died. It must have been a long nap.

He ran his fingers over Bai Shuangying’s cheek, black hair slipping through them. Enjoying the drawn-out good morning kiss, he clung to the bed for half an hour.

When he finally stepped outside, he was surprised.

In the courtyard, Guan He and Cheng Songyun had returned to normal and were sipping porridge. Mei Lan looked dazed. She glanced at Fang Xiu briefly, then quickly looked away.

Never mind Guan He and Cheng Songyun, even Mei Lan was still alive.

And at the incense burner in the courtyard stood “half a person”.

From the look of it, it was a young Meng Xiaomeng.

Half her head was gone, neatly sliced from the bridge of her nose like a medical anatomy model. Her body looked as if several large bites had been taken out of it, with parts of her arms and legs missing.

Thankfully, the cut surfaces were pure white without any gore that was inappropriate for public view.

Meng Xiaomeng stood beside the paper figure, scanning the area with her one remaining eye. Her face wore the vacant expression of someone lost in a dream.

Fang Xiu watched her for a while thoughtfully.

He rubbed his swollen lips and glanced sideways at Bai Shuangying. Bai Shuangying remained stoic but turned his head ever so slightly away.

“Congratulations, everyone, hooray! You survived the Immortal E and have become Disaster Resolvers.”

The paper figure’s tone sounded more half-hearted than excited. “The Yellow Millet E has been resolved, and rewards will be issued to those who eliminated it, including Fang Xiu was the one to eliminate it.”

This time, there was no mention of extra prizes.

Fang Xiu didn’t ask about the anomaly skill directly. “Where’s the Immortal E?”

“Broke, dear ancestor.” The paper figure said miserably, “That thing truly shouldn’t circulate in the human world, but it was still a treasure. You should have been more careful…”

“But it was your first time handling one, so it’s understandable,” it added quickly before it could be blamed.

Fang Xiu raised an eyebrow and glanced at Bai Shuangying again.

Bai Shuangying turned his head even further, nearly a full 180 degrees.

“Why did you bring Meng Xiaomeng here?” Fang Xiu asked calmly, changing the subject.

“With her soul in that state and all that karmic residue, to wandering spirits she looks like a cooked duck.” The paper figure sighed. “When night falls, she won’t even know what’s happening before her soul gets devoured.”

Fang Xiu sucked in a breath. “Didn’t think you’d be so kind.”

The paper figure looked deeply offended. It puffed up its chest. “Kindness? She got hold of the Immortal E. Of course we had to investigate!”

Then it deflated like a balloon. “Too bad her memory shattered along with her soul and only karma remains.”

The Immortal E was broken, and the person involved had lost her memories. With no one to vent at, Dian’er grumbled a few more lines and vaguely explained Meng Xiaomeng’s condition.

Fang Xiu stared in silence for a few seconds, then looked at the half-headed girl.

“Don’t worry. Memory loss doesn’t mean everything is gone,” he said gently.

“A thirty-year-old who loses her memory doesn’t become a three-year-old. Some things bypass memory and sink deep into your bones.”

The “Hu Die” who had spoken with him, the version that fought to survive in the dream—that persona did die in a sense. But her “perspective” wouldn’t simply vanish.

Sure enough, when she heard those words, a trace of sadness that was far too old for a young girl flickered in Meng Xiaomeng’s eyes. But the sadness was quickly drowned by deeper confusion, and her expression grew more lost.

After all its complaining, the paper figure finally remembered its real job.

Dian’er reluctantly said, “Alright, pick your anomaly skill. Even if the Immortal E is broken, the ritual is complete. You can—”

“Heaven-Breaking,” Fang Xiu said decisively.

Paper figure: “…Come again?”

“Zhuang Pengdao used it in front of me. It counts as an ‘anomaly’.”

“I can’t use spellcraft, but if you package it as an anomaly skill, I should be able to use it.”

Dian’er opened and closed its mouth, at a loss for words.

The Heaven-Breaking Technique was strongest spell a human could wield. A true celestial technique, in a completely different league from ordinary mortal spells.

The problem was that this spell was basically divine history’s dark stain.

A thousand years ago, chaos spread across the land.

The immortals wrote divine spells on heavenly silkworm silk and showed them to the gifted Taoist Zhuang Guiqu. They chose him to represent the human world and work alongside the Underworld to restore peace.

Celestial spells were naturally wondrous. Zhuang Guiqu was allowed to read the Heavenly Scroll and learn the techniques. But as a mere mortal, he couldn’t pass them down verbally. Once the scroll was reclaimed, humanity would lose access forever.

Most Taoists respected the Heavenly Order. But Zhuang Guiqu was different. Using a needle as a pen and silk as parchment, he tattooed the divine symbols onto his body. After the scroll was taken back, he founded a sect and displayed the “Heavenly Book on Flesh” to his disciples and his power grew rapidly.

To prevent disaster, the immortals had to negotiate.

Eventually, they removed the tattoos from Zhuang Guiqu’s body. In exchange, he was granted a weakened, verbally transmissible version: Heaven-Breaking Technique.

Even weakened, it was still terrifying.

If properly prepared, the Heaven-Breaking Technique could sever even divine power. To limit its use, it required multiple casters, hours of complex rituals, and a fixed location.

…And now Fang Xiu wanted the Underworld to turn it into a skill, a solo-use, portable version.

Seriously, every time it was something outrageous.

Dian’er was about to cry. How could anyone be this cunning?

But Fang Xiu’s request had no flaws. The spell had been sealed after the ritual. No Heavenly Scrolls were involved. He couldn’t become a second Zhuang Guiqu. There was no reason to refuse.

The paper figure wanted to cry but had no tears. “’A Single Thread to Sever Heaven’. Alright, you can sever any human spell within one step of yourself.”

“We do need to emphasize the limits, though. If you insist…”

“I do,” Fang Xiu cut in.

“The Yellow Millet E has been resolved… Everything else you already know, so I won’t repeat…”

A “Qian trigram” sank into Fang Xiu’s pale skin and disappeared.

He touched the spot where the symbol had disappeared with little emotion on his face. As expected, the Underworld had built in conditions to such a powerful spell.

And sure enough, it followed the usual “sacrifice infighting” model. The Underworld only cared about preventing deaths caused by fellow humans, so he could focus on breaking E’s.

…Which suited him just fine.

His fingers slid gently across his skin. Six trigrams lit up in turn, then dimmed quickly. Of them, the “Qian trigram” burned the most. He could vaguely feel the unique power of the Immortal E.

Six powers, five E’s resolved by his own hand. As ritual rewards go, not bad.

Now, there was one more matter to take care of…

Fang Xiu skipped breakfast, grabbed Bai Shuangying, who was still twisting his head away like an owl, and dragged him straight into the room.

As soon as they entered, Fang Xiu shut the door and leaned against it, giving Bai Shuangying a long, meaningful look.

Bai Shuangying put on his best “I’m innocent” face. “I cleaned up your mess. Your team’s intact. Meng Xiaomeng’s alive.”

Fang Xiu raised his brows. “Hm,” he said slowly, his tone rising at the end.

“I was just sooo careless. How could the Immortal E just break?”

“I meant to use the Immortal E to bargain something big with the Underworld, but haa, I guess I wasn’t meant to be…”

Bai Shuangying: “Mm.”

“But I distinctly remember holding onto it very tightly.”

Fang Xiu leaned against the door tightly, with just the right amount of doubt in his expression. “And I remember how light it was. The moment you first lifted my shirt—I woke up.”

Bai Shuangying: “…”

“I just kept my eyes closed afterward. Someone was fumbling with my hands…”

Sensing danger, Bai Shuangying quickly pulled a small porcelain fragment from his sleeve—a rounded, gleaming shard: the head of the porcelain child’s skull.

“I kept a souvenir.” He held the porcelain piece and offering it up with both hands.

Fang Xiu accepted it with a smile and solemnly placed it on the altar. It now served as a dish to hold the Huanxi World chips, which made it look quite proper.

“Want to play truth or dare?” Fang Xiu smiled. “Otherwise if I interrogate you like this, it feels like a courtroom.”

“I imagine you have questions for me too.”

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The author has something to say:

How could our young lovers skip such a perfect game (?

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