Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 133: Story Ending

Night deepened further. The rain had stopped for a while, but the clouds had not dispersed. The sky remained as dark as the bottom of a pot.

A’Shou carefully made her way through the village. The village was brightly lit at night, yet frighteningly silent. Behind the windows were the vague silhouettes of “people” in motion. But upon closer inspection, they were all figures formed from words.

She tried running to several different places, but the words on the shadow figures were all roughly the same. They described her experiences with uncanny accuracy, always just a step ahead of her actual sensations.

Like very brief prophecies.

After seeing enough of them, A’Shou began to question whether they were objective predictions or some kind of script controlling her actions. Her instincts from the battlefield made her hair stand on end. Whatever it was, she should not look too closely.

So, A’Shou stopped at a spot not too far, not too close to the ancestral hall. She forced herself to focus on the sacrifices. While watching Fang Xiu inside the hall, she crouched down and began to draw complex talisman patterns on the ground.

A few seconds later, the talisman glowed with a dim blood-red light, and an illusory figure of an old man in green robes floated up from it.

The old man was gaunt like a skeleton, his beard sparse and dry, and his deep eye sockets glowed with two dim blue lights. He wore a loose green-blue robe, exposing a bony chest with only ribs remaining. The ends of his intricately patterned robe floated in midair and appeared blurry, as if merging into the surrounding mist.

“Lord Haibo.”

A’Shou instinctively cupped her fists and gave a simple salute.

Lord Haibo, one of the well-known ghost immortals.

He had no wish to get too deeply involved with the Underworld and had sealed away his own Immortal E in layers before sinking it to the bottom of the sea. He then went to live alone on an uninhabited island.

In his own words, he was too lazy to work and just as lazy to harm others. His only obsession was reading every book in existence.

Now, facing the powerful General A’Shou, Lord Haibo didn’t budge an inch. He didn’t even turn his eyes. “General A’Shou, how have you been lately?”

“Everything’s well,” A’Shou replied, still in the saluting posture. “I’ve come with a few questions I hope you might help me with.”

Lord Haibo’s dry lips moved slightly. “Not asking the King of Hell or his wardens, but coming to bother this old soul? And still hanging around the Great Xushan. Interesting, interesting.”

A’Shou drew a breath, bowing even more respectfully. “I apologize for coming without an offering—”

“No need for pleasantries. The price,” Lord Haibo interrupted.

A’Shou sighed inwardly. “I have a chest of rare, original storybooks from the Kui Dynasty. I can offer them to you.”

Only then did Lord Haibo move his eyes. “Ask away. But I’ll say this up front: if I can’t answer, it still counts as a consultation.”

“I wish to ask about the ‘Immortal Encounter E’. Have you read any records on it?” A’Shou asked decisively.

Lord Haibo rolled his eyes. “The Immortal Encounter E… The Immortal Encounter E… Yes, I’ve read a letter complaining about it. But the warden who wrote it vanished afterward. I never finished reading it. That letter is one of a kind.”

He held up two fingers and slowly waved them at A’Shou.

“…I’ll find you another chest of storybooks,” A’Shou replied.

Only then was Lord Haibo satisfied. Under the cloudy sky, the light in his eyes dimmed as if he had closed them to recall the memory.

“The warden that day…”

That warden was tasked with tracking a team of Disaster Resolvers. At the time, they were undergoing the eighth ritual. Even though it was dangerous, the warden had to follow them the entire way.

Everyone knew the eighth ritual involved the most dangerous Dust Sealed E’s. It wasn’t a pleasant assignment. Were it not for the generous reward, no warden would want the job.

This time, the Dust Sealed E chosen was the “Immortal Encounter E”.

No one remembered why it had that name. No one knew what it actually did. The official records described it in black and white, and that was accepted as truth. Only the ghost immortal in charge of the Disaster Relief Tower remembered that the Immortal Encounter E had deep ties with Xushan and was extremely perilous.

The warden was understandably anxious. He trembled as he followed the team into the ritual, but to his surprise, the ritual went far more smoothly than expected. The Disaster Resolvers breezed through the ordeal, as if God was on their side.

How could a Dust Sealed E be so simple? The warden waited and waited, expecting a twist—but nothing happened. The group happily completed the ritual and were ready to return to the Tower.

With the situation so stable, the bored warden wrote a letter to a friend, complaining about how underwhelming the Immortal Encounter E was and how absurd the whole trip felt. He planned to chat more after submitting his official report.

That letter turned out to be the final word from both the warden and the Disaster Resolvers.

…After finishing his tale, Lord Haibo clapped his hands. “They vanished without a trace. The fact that the letter survived is sheer luck for the Underworld.”

A’Shou frowned deeply. “Simple? Smooth?”

As far as she knew, even someone as foolish as Dian’er wouldn’t slack off during the eighth ritual. That would be no different from streaking on a battlefield.

If the warden had time to write a letter and successfully deliver it, the ritual must have gone well, and he was preparing to bring everyone back.

A simple ritual. A successful resolution. Yet no one heard from the warden or the team again…

And come to think of it, for Fang Xiu and his group, this ritual had also gone suspiciously smoothly…

A’Shou pinched the bridge of her nose, heart growing heavier by the second.

She looked up again. “Lord Hai—”

But when she saw what was in front of her, her already cold body felt like it had plunged into an ice cave.

Lord Haibo had vanished without a trace. In his place floated a young man dressed in black. He hovered in the same position, his dark robes drifting in the air. On his blank face was a twisted, ancient character for “Pray”.

There was no evil yin energy, only a suffocating pressure.

The ghost immortal barely stood her ground, soft sword already drawn. The creature before her made no sound, but countless thoughts stabbed straight into A’Shou’s mind.

[You want to know.]

[You want to know what was in that letter.]

[You want to know what happened after that.]

She did want to know, A’Shou admitted to herself. If she had not reacted in time, the question would have already slipped from her lips.

And if she had asked, what would have happened…?

Judging by the terrifying pressure, she was no match for it.

“Leave,” she rasped.

[Your wish.]

“No, I’m scolding you.” A’Shou gritted her teeth, ready to strike.

The thing stared at her for a moment, then vanished into the night.

A’Shou steadied herself and pressed her hand to the talisman again. Follow-up questions could wait. First, she needed to confirm Lord Haibo’s status.

But this time, her summoning got no response.

This was an official Underworld talisman. If Lord Haibo still existed, it would react. If he had died, it would return an accurate result.

But it gave no reaction, as if a child had scribbled randomly on the dirt.

As if… Lord Haibo had never existed.

A cold chill crept through A’Shou’s body. Her fingers clenched on the soil where she had drawn the talisman.

In the dark, she suddenly saw the talisman writhing on its own. The strokes crumbled like rotten flesh and turned into crawling words.

[Lord Haibo, one of the well-known ghost immortals.]

[He had no wish to get too deeply involved with the Underworld and had sealed away his own Immortal E in layers before sinking it to the bottom of the sea. He then went to live alone on an uninhabited island.]

[In his own words, he was too lazy to work and just as lazy to harm others. His only obsession was reading every book in existence.]

[“The Tale of Lord Haibo” is completed.]

With the appearance of this final line, all the tiny characters disintegrated. All that remained in her fingers was a clump of damp mud.

……

Fang Xiu stepped on the wet earth, walking into the night with two Guishan Sect followers.

The two cultists were well-trained. They had all the proper gear—compasses, talismans, magic weapons. One walked ahead of Fang Xiu, the other behind. It sounded like they were escorting him for his safety, but in reality, they were watching him from every angle.

Fang Xiu’s expression was calm. He walked along with a cheerful smile.

Bai Shuangying gripped his wrist tightly, frequently glancing around with uncertainty. Fang Xiu didn’t miss a single glance. This was the first time he had seen his ghost so anxious. It was fascinating.

“What is it? Is there really a strange and powerful evil spirit nearby?” Fang Xiu muttered quietly. “Dou Dou seemed pretty accurate.”

Bai Shuangying shook his head, hesitating to speak. It wasn’t that he wanted to hide anything—he simply didn’t know what they were facing.

He couldn’t say it was “another Great God of Calamity”. It wasn’t that powerful and had many odd flaws. But calling it an ordinary evil spirit felt wrong too. Its aura wasn’t particularly heavy, yet disturbingly familiar.

It felt like waking up to find a pair of feet in your house that might be your own, walking around in slippers. It was hard to say whether to be worried or laugh.

No wonder the Guishan Sect had such confidence in “releasing the Great God of Calamity”. They never said it would be the original “God of Calamity”.

In truth, it would be best to go investigate. But his human was too fragile. If he clashed with that thing, and Fang Xiu got caught in the crossfire…

So troublesome. Was this what it felt like to weigh out plans?

Bai Shuangying could not help but turn his head for the ten-thousandth time. This time, he saw Fang Xiu quietly drifting towards the direction he was peering at.

“What is it?” his human asked, clearly pretending not to know.

“I once thought that unsealing everything would solve all our problems,” Bai Shuangying said thoughtfully. “But the enemy is dangerous. I can’t take you near it, and I can’t leave you alone either. The weaker the seal becomes, the more complications arise.”

Fang Xiu’s lips twitched. He coughed. “How dangerous is it?”

Bai Shuangying looked at him nervously. “It has the aura of a God of Calamity, but the situation is unclear.”

“So let me get this straight. You know where this ‘Great Evil’ is. It has the aura of a God of Calamity, but it’s not quite like a normal one.” Fang Xiu scratched his chin. “Could it be the Immortal Encounter E itself?”

“No matter how powerful an E is, it’s still an object. It can’t act on its own,” Bai Shuangying replied immediately.

Fang Xiu hummed and continued walking with the Guishan cultists.

Their private conversation was covered by a “concealment”. To the followers, Fang Xiu just looked odd, walking with a strange posture and mumbling to himself in the silent air.

Just as they were about to lighten the mood with a warm Guishan Sect story, they heard Fang Xiu speak with great reverence. “Your ancestor sealed a great evil at Xushan. This place is close to there… Have you heard any related legends?”

“Like that porcelain statue. I’ve never heard of any god like that. Maybe it’s a sealed evil spirit that Immortal Zhuang subdued, and this village worships it.”

The moment he mentioned the ancestor Zhuang Guiqu, the two believers perked up.

Fang Xiu’s outfit closely matched what Cen Ling had warned them about, except there wasn’t another man wearing white. For a moment, they suspected this red-shirted guy might be the arrogant Fang Xiu, but his respectful tone toward their sect seemed too natural to be fake.

Maybe it was just a coincidence. Master Cen had clearly said the suspect wore white.

While they were still debating, Fang Xiu seized the chance. “I’ve also heard some stories. If we put our information together, maybe we can find a clue. Villages like this always have rumors.”

The believers nodded in agreement.

But they stayed cautious. “Why don’t you go first, brother?”

Fang Xiu smiled slightly. “I heard there’s a small village at the foot of Xushan that worships deformed children as mountain gods. Eventually, a real guardian appeared and protected them. The villagers worshipped it year after year.”

“This village seems to have one particularly powerful evil spirit. Maybe it’s a similar case?”

In a few words, Fang Xiu summarized the Weishan ritual.

The tale was too new, and the Weishan E not well known, so Fang Xiu wasn’t worried about being exposed. Judging by the followers’ faces, they indeed hadn’t heard it before.

“That can’t be a real mountain god. It must be an evil spirit pretending to be one,” said the follower in front, sounding offended. “The only god still walking this world is our Patriarch—he carries Zhuang Guiqu’s direct bloodline!”

Bai Shuangying openly wrinkled his nose and snorted in disdain.

The one in the rear was a bit more polite. “The god near Xushan should only be Zhuang Guiqu. If that porcelain statue isn’t him, then it’s just the villagers doing something foolish.”

“I know some Xushan legends… Let me think…”

He made some odd gasping noises, sharp like a jammed cassette tape. When he spoke again, his voice returned to normal. “Xushan is the foremost of all mountains, a fragment of Heaven’s will.”

“Zhuang Guiqu attained enlightenment in Xushan and was worshipped by everyone. He could have accomplished many great things… If only the dynasty back then weren’t so incompetent…”

“To this day, Xushan remains his domain. He will protect us…”

“…That’s what the books say.”

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