Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 106: Disguise Team

The second floor was covered in damp, muddy soil.

It glistened with a dark brown-black sheen, faintly wet. The smell of earth pressed down like a suffocating burial. Even the doorway had turned into a makeshift wooden frame, beyond which lay pitch blackness.

After entering, they realized the “pitch darkness” wasn’t an illusion. It was true, ink-like darkness, so deep they couldn’t see their hands in front of their faces.

The four in the dark: “……”

Fang Xiu rubbed his fingers together and summoned a handful of ghost flames in his left hand. The red light illuminated their surroundings. They stood in what could have been a mine shaft or an ancient tomb passageway, flanked by heavy, silent shadows.

There was a foul odor in the air that was hard to describe. If the outside world was like clear running water, this air was more like rotting water from a flower vase. With each breath, Fang Xiu felt as though spores were setting up permanent residence in his lungs.

And that was before even considering the oxygen levels.

Now he understood why the Underworld sent a ghost courier along. In a place like this, they’d suffocate without intervention. The Underworld wouldn’t interfere in their fights with evil spirits, but if the environment itself became a threat, it would intervene.

Imagining an Underworld courier doubling as a giant underground ventilation fan, Fang Xiu couldn’t help but smile.

His teammates had toughened up too. In earlier rituals, this scene would’ve caused chaos. But now the other three were calm, almost monk-like, with a serenity that made them seem unshakable.

Even Guan He wasn’t trembling. He just looked around cautiously.

Fang Xiu flicked his fingers again and summoned the little black dog. The dog sniffed the soil, wagging its tail as it led them in a direction.

“Let’s go.” Fang Xiu walked ahead for once as the group’s “torchbearer”. Their shoes crunched over the gritty earth, the noise unnervingly loud.

While Fang Xiu kept an eye on the ground, Bai Shuangying watched the distant karmic threads.

“There are four other living people here, scattered far apart.”

After that truth-or-dare session, Bai Shuangying didn’t bother hiding his powers. “Three groups: one of two, and two solo. This time the teams are small.”

The black dog barked twice in agreement, licking the cool hem of Bai Shuangying’s robe.

Fang Xiu replied, “Makes sense. Disaster Resolver teams are never large.”

A “consecutive E resolution” required strong cohesion. The Underworld probably had strict team-size limits to reduce unpredictable outcomes.

The previous teams—the Jiao Yan duo, the twin monks, Zhuang Pengdao and his disciples—had all been tightly bound groups. In contrast, their own team was the odd one out.

That thought made Fang Xiu suddenly stop. Guan He, scanning the area, nearly bumped into him. “???”

“Let’s pretend we’re two separate teams.” Fang Xiu explained, “We’ve got too many people. Even with fake names, we’ll stand out.”

“Everyone knows ‘Fang Xiu resolved the Mid-Autumn E’, but all they know is that I’m a young man. They don’t know what my teammates look like.”

Guan He suddenly understood.

Their team, composed of men, women, and even a dog, was definitely memorable.

“Xiao Guan, you team up with Cheng Jie and Mei Lan. I’ll lend you the dog.”

Fang Xiu crouched and patted the black dog’s head. “We don’t know what kinds of traps are here. This guy can save your lives.”

After all, it was a ghost immortal, naturally sensitive to life-preserving paths.

Cheng Songyun asked calmly, “And you, Xiao Fang?”

“I’ll just conjure a teammate. Bai Shuangying, drop the disguise.”

Bai Shuangying stepped out of the shadows, and the others paused for a beat.

Understandably so… His new look was…

Perhaps at Fang Xiu’s request, this seductive ghost had dropped his usual ancient style. The flowing white robes were replaced with a crisp white T-shirt and matching pants and shoes that mirrored Fang Xiu’s outfit perfectly.

His long hair was pulled into a low ponytail, loosely tied behind his head. With that ethereal face, he now resembled a “modern exorcist”.

But standing next to Fang Xiu, they looked more like a couple.

And not just any couple. They gave off an ominous “red and white double specter” vibe. The colors and their appearance made it clear: these two were no amateurs in metaphysics.

Fang Xiu boldly took his ghost’s hand. “Now your ‘group of three’ won’t raise any suspicions. We’ve got two ‘young men’ on our side. It’ll be hard to tell which one is the real Fang Xiu.”

Guan He, apparently excluded from the “young man” category, looked like he had opinions but said nothing.

Mei Lan patted the black dog’s head. “You two are going to act separately?”

“No, just a bit of distance. We’ll say we allied partway through.”

“…Fine.”

Honestly, they didn’t even need to act. Those two clung to each other so closely that it created an unspoken bubble no one could break into. Mei Lan wanted to complain but couldn’t bring herself to joke around.

This Immortal E they were after was tricky. Even knowing what it looked like in advance wouldn’t help much.

It was just too well-hidden.

……

“It’s too well-hidden,” a young man said lazily. “Rather than hunting it down, might as well wait for it to find us.”

“Cen Ge, you know a lot about the ‘Grave-Sealing E?” asked the youth beside him.

“Not really. But there are records in the sect.” The man swung a white lantern, smiling brightly.

“I remember bits and pieces about most of the Immortal E’s acquired in the past twenty years.”

The candlelight filtered through the yellowed paper, casting a soft glow. “Cen Ge”, Cen Ling, walked normally, but the flame inside the lantern didn’t flicker at all, as if frozen in place.

The light revealed their faces.

Cen Ling wasn’t quite as striking as Zhuang Pengdao, but he was handsome in a “just right” kind of way.

With soft features and warm energy, he gave off an approachable, boy-next-door charm. The kind of guy women liked and men didn’t dislike.

The boy beside him was also bright-eyed and quick-footed.

“I only heard it was an old jade cicada with blood staining…about this big.”

He cupped his hands to show the size. “It seems someone found it in an antique shop and used it to seal a tomb.”

“Sounds about right.”

Cen Ling chuckled. “That thing is drawn to the living. It’ll come to us on its own. If we go looking, we’d be searching forever.”

“Huh, drawn to the living?”

The youth shivered, rubbing the goosebumps on his arms.

“Yeah. But we’ll be fine. We’ve got each other’s backs.”

“The two moving solo are the ones in trouble. Once we regroup, it’ll be fine. We’re all from the same side. We know how to play it smart.”

“Hey, what’s up with that ‘Fang Xiu’ guy?”

“I’m curious too.”

Cen Ling spoke as if commenting on a local legend. “He resolved the Mid-Autumn E. He should be somewhat well-known, but he’s staying so low-key I’m starting to suspect he’s government-affiliated.”

“Government or not, doesn’t matter.” The youth said with disdain, “No one on either side, yin or yang, can control our sect leader. The officials up top are just cannon fodder.”

Cen Ling didn’t respond, smiling faintly. But the expression didn’t reach his eyes.

“Alright, we don’t get many chances like this. Let’s take in the sights.”

He lifted the lantern, casting light on the rugged, ancient tunnel.

“Even if it’s abandoned, this place is still our holy land. Many of our brothers and sisters are buried here.”

“Wait… you think the leader raised monsters here? I mean, uh, Immortal creatures?”

Cen Ling’s smile widened. “Of course.”

“What do you think the ‘Grave-Sealing E’ is sealing, hm?”

……

After walking two or three hours, the passage opened up.

“Opened up” wasn’t exactly right. The atmosphere was still heavy, but at least there was more space. At the end of the corridor lay a massive hollow chamber, scattered with remnants of ancient buildings.

In the limited lighting, the ruins were clearly in disrepair. Vines crawled over stone, moss covered what had once been colorful paint. It looked centuries old. Yet some parts seemed suspiciously new, new enough to have been built last week.

The only upside was the presence of several recently installed eternal lamps. Fang Xiu didn’t hesitate to light up every dark spot, bringing a faint sense of life to the place.

Guan He looked around, appalled at the hybrid architecture. “This is heritage destruction, isn’t it?”

The modern repairs were obviously unprofessional. Some areas used contemporary masonry techniques that clashed violently with the original structures, like red bricks shoved into a gray-brick wall.

Cheng Songyun clicked her tongue. “It’s a massive mausoleum…”

“The imperial tomb of the last emperor of the Kui Dynasty,” Mei Lan said softly. “It was never finished. The Kui dynasty fell before it was completed. The Guishan Sect turned it into a stronghold. It’s been officially sealed by the government.”

Guan He was confused. “But there’s no sign of government work here?”

If the authorities found it, shouldn’t there have been full-scale excavation and preservation efforts?

Mei Lan gave a bitter smile. “The things inside were too dangerous. All they could do was seal it and deal with it slowly.”

Guan He: “……”

So they were standing in a thousand-year-old tomb, once occupied by a cult, and now marked by the state as “too dangerous to excavate”. How lovely.

He moved stiffly, staying within half a step of Cheng Songyun.

Fang Xiu touched the ancient stone wall. Mei Lan’s explanation matched his research. The architecture clearly followed the Kui Dynasty style.

The Kui had been one of the strongest dynasties in history.

Like many others, it had risen in glory, flourished, and collapsed into a century of chaos. Most people forgot its last emperor, but they remembered its last “immortal”: Zhuang Guiqu.

According to legend, Zhuang Guiqu was half-human, half-immortal, and could split the heavens with one hand. In the dynasty’s final days, when ghosts ran rampant, he and his disciples traveled the land, resolving disasters.

Even in recent centuries, his name lived on in countless stories and operas. But as metaphysics waned, those tales became mere superstition.

…Until someone decided to make use of them in modern times.

Fang Xiu’s fingers clenched tighter around the stone. His nails dug into the cracks.

“Oh, you all got here first!”

A cheerful voice called from behind. “Good evening, everyone.”

“Welcome to the holy land of our sect. My name is Cen Ling.”

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Disguised identities ×

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