Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

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

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Chapter 136: Story Jump

Zhuang Feng specifically arranged an empty tent for the three of them and even asked A’Shou whether she wanted to spend the night in a women’s-only tent.

“There are many volunteers who came to help, so we prepared spaces in advance.” There was a hint of pride in his tone. “This mission is too dangerous, so Master only brought fewer than a hundred people. The fact that you three were kept says a lot. The conditions on the mountain are harsh, so we ask for your understanding.”

A’Shou glanced at the human-and-ghost pair standing together and decisively refused Zhuang Feng’s offer. She was fairly certain Fang Xiu and his seductive ghost had no interest in anyone else.

Zhuang Feng wasn’t overly conservative about it either. “Very well, I’ll prepare a screen for the three of you. You can use it as you wish.”

Fang Xiu wasn’t sure if this was another one of Zhuang Guiqu’s exaggerations or if the God of Calamity was really that notorious, but this was the first he’d heard of so many cultivators volunteering to come here. The Guishan Sect’s records never mentioned this, not even specific details about the disciples. For instance, this Zhuang Feng standing before them, his name didn’t appear anywhere.

Then again, the “Evil Sealing” event did make for a great story outline. The records only provided a simple summary, leaving the details to the imagination.

“With so many people here, have you decided how to seal the evil yet?” Fang Xiu asked casually.

“As a junior, I’m not in a position to pass along those words. That’s something Master will say himself.”

Zhuang Feng smiled politely, with the pride of a seasoned cultivator in his tone. “There’s sweet soup available at all times in the guest quarters. Please warm up before bed.”

Fang Xiu nodded. “Thanks.”

Bai Shuangying, however, wasn’t so relaxed. He wanted nothing more than to stare Zhuang Feng out of the tent, then trap A’Shou behind a screen so he could finally think in peace. 

Unfortunately, his human couldn’t stay still for even a second. Fang Xiu grabbed his hand and dragged him out. Bai Shuangying winced, but still obediently followed.

The three of them headed straight to where the sweet soup was being served.

Among the many tents, a large pot simmered with fragrant flowers, fruits, and rare herbs, glowing a lovely golden red. The bubbling broth cast an orange light all around.

Nearby was a long table with rows of crystal-clear porcelain bowls. Each time someone took one, a cook with a large ladle would refill it, ensuring the soup remained hot.

To go with the soup, soft wheat cakes, fresh fruit, and meat stew lined the table’s edge. Though it was late, many cultivators were still gathered, eating and chatting excitedly.

As Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying approached, many eyes turned to them. Most of those seated were elderly or unusually deformed. The sudden arrival of two striking young men made the chatter pause for a few seconds.

An old man closest to them drained his soup and wiped his beard. “How rare to see a kid walking around with two fierce evil spirits.”

Fang Xiu deliberately looked around. “Where are the so-called ‘righteous’ sects?”

In modern terms, this place was full of black Taoists and dark monks. There were barely any “righteous” cultivators. Given that the royal troops were here, those sects should have shown up too.

The old man chuckled. “With Lao Zhuang here, what do we need them for?”

“What those good-for-nothings can do, Lao Zhuang can do. What they can’t do, he still can. We just have more tricks up our sleeves, that’s all.”

“Amitabha, mind your words, Patron. That God of Calamity has harmed the innocent. They too wish to help the people, but Master Zhuang persuaded them otherwise.”

A one-eyed monk folded his hands together and spoke slowly. “If such people survive, they’re more useful than you and me.”

The old man scratched his head, plucking out a louse and squishing it. “Fair enough. Who doesn’t hold a grudge? Even if I die here, I’ll have taken revenge.”

Fang Xiu: “…” Why does this atmosphere feel weirdly harmonious? Almost like unity in the face of a great enemy.

He looked at the old man curiously. “Revenge?”

“None of your damn business!” the old man snapped.

Fang Xiu activated his ability, pulling some modern-day festival pastries from his pocket and politely offering them. “I meant no offense. Just a little curious.”

The old man snatched the pastry and took a bite. His eyes widened. Influenced by the taste of modern food, he quickly devoured the treat and licked his fingers.

“…Not bad. Alright, I’ll talk. Kid, you came all the way here… Don’t tell me you’ve got no grievances with that God of Calamity?”

Fang Xiu shook his head and answered dramatically, “For the greater good.”

Then he slipped the old man a few more pastries.

The old man happily hugged them close, eyes gleaming as his tone deepened.

“You know about that big disaster five years ago? It was awful. My son lived there at the time. Before that…”

[Before that, there were constant conflicts between the locals around Xushan and that God of Calamity. They tried to suppress it again and again. We lived nearby because there was always work.]

[Five years ago, there was heavy rain. The God of Calamity caused a landslide. Mud and rocks buried everything—four or five villages vanished! It was a nightmare. The dead were dug up for three days and nights, the mourning music never stopped, and people cried day and night.]

A faint crying echoed in Fang Xiu’s ears, drifting in and out like a hallucination.

He narrowed his eyes and looked at the old man’s moving mouth.

His teeth were yellow, crumbs clinging to his lips, and his mouth a black void. But inside that darkness, Fang Xiu saw movement, like a cluster of words forming.

They spilled from the corner of the man’s lips, flickering like vapor on a winter’s breath. Fang Xiu instinctively reached out and grabbed a handful.

In that instant, the crying grew clearer, and the old man’s figure blurred. The words in his hand felt like dry yet soft skin, waiting to be torn.

Fang Xiu gripped Bai Shuangying with his left hand and raised his right…

Riiip.

A strange rustling sound filled the air.

Suddenly, cries rang sharp in his ears. Fang Xiu’s feet were submerged in mud, surrounded by a stifling stench of death. People were digging into the earth in the dark. From time to time, they would unearth bloated, disfigured corpses.

Far off, the sound of a suona wailed, causing people’s hair to stand on end.

Fang Xiu lowered his hand and flexed his fingers. The sensation from earlier still lingered. His left hand still held Bai Shuangying’s, and even A’Shou had gotten dragged in at the last moment, clutching his shirt so hard the collar warped.

This is wrong. They shouldn’t be interfering like this.

I already chose a story for them. Why are they jumping back and forth?

Fang Xiu is even more unusual than I expected. His interference makes me uncomfortable. Looks like we’ll have to finish this story together.

And soon.

It’s my duty. I must complete it quickly…

“I didn’t make a wish!”

At Fang Xiu’s feet, a child half-buried in dirt screamed hoarsely, “Don’t kill me! Don’t kill my parents! Wuwuwu…”

The child’s face was smeared with mud making him unrecognizable. Two corpses lay nearby. From their twisted shapes, it was clear they’d died long ago. The child’s hoarse cries were ugly, but mixed with the mourning music and others’ wails, they sounded almost ordinary.

A pair of arms lifted the crying child and gently patted his back.

The hands belonged to a middle-aged man dressed like a black Taoist. His face resembled the old man from earlier. Judging from the situation, he was probably the son of the old man who was telling the story.

“Tragic,” he sighed, then spotted Fang Xiu and the others. His expression froze visibly. “New arrivals? Good, help us out. The God of Calamity is acting up again… too many deaths…”

“Acting up again?” Fang Xiu echoed smoothly.

“Someone must’ve made a wish again and caused trouble. We’ve said it a hundred times. Stop going to that damn temple, but no one listens. I say we should’ve torn it down long ago.”

The black Taoist cursed, adjusting the child in his arms. “Master Zhuang said something would happen, and sure enough, now the court’s people are coming. It’s time to teach that Calamity a lesson.”

Fang Xiu looked at the wrecked mountain. Thick mud had flattened the houses showing a scene of desolation.

…But to a modern man like him, there didn’t seem to be any obvious supernatural signs.

“Could it just be a natural disaster?” he asked, offering pastries again.

Like father, like son—the Taoist softened at once. He broke off a piece and fed it to the exhausted child. Distracted by the sweet flavor, the kid calmed down.

“How could it be natural? Of course the God of Calamity did it. It has messed things up before. Why else would I still be here scraping by?”

After comforting the child, the man sighed. “The court didn’t care. Only Master Zhuang looked out for the people. Anyway, I think they’re almost here. I need to check.”

He pointed toward flashing lights at the foot of the mountain.

Just then, Fang Xiu noticed Bai Shuangying’s wrist twitch in his grasp.

“Get more fire oil and dry wood too!” someone shouted in the distance.

“Stack it all in that damn temple! Light the mountain up and burn every inch!”

“Blasphemers! Let that evil spirit taste justice!”

…It was probably just motivational yelling. The shouting echoed in waves.

Fang Xiu followed the black Taoist downhill and saw a familiar tent. Who knew when Zhuang Guiqu had set it up among the rot and decay? The usual fragrant scent drifted out. Survivors had stopped crying and hauling corpses. They all rushed to the tent, kneeling and sobbing.

“Master, save us!”

“Drive out the cursed evil, we beg you!”

They didn’t know whether Zhuang Guiqu was in the tent, but they still kowtowed until their foreheads bled. More and more victims gathered, like lost sheep.

“We don’t want wishes anymore! No more wishes!”

The sky was dark, the survivors frenzied. Fang Xiu’s group stood quietly at the edge. The black Taoist didn’t kneel either. He wiped the child’s face as the boy, finally spent, drifted into sleep amid the shouting.

Zhuang Guiqu remained inside, the soothing incense wafting endlessly.

Beside the ornate tent stood a young Zhuang Feng.

He held a longsword, its blade catching the firelight. With bold brows and clear eyes, he looked just like a storybook hero.

His gaze swept the crowd and landed on the child in the Taoist’s arms. His brow furrowed, rage flickering on his face.

“The God of Calamity must be destroyed!” he shouted.

“The God of Calamity must be destroyed!” The crowd quickly echoed him.

In their grief and rage, Zhuang Feng leaned toward the tent. Fang Xiu didn’t hear a word, but Zhuang Feng seemed to receive a command and nodded solemnly.

He gripped his sword and walked steadily up the mountain. Soldiers flanked him, raising torches that lit up the muddy path.

Fang Xiu glanced at the Taoist with the child, catching his eye. The man smirked and gestured at the kid. “Whatever, it’s just a fire. We can see it from here.”

Even though the child was fast asleep, he still instinctively lowered his voice.

Though the story came from this man’s father, he didn’t seem like the “protagonist”.

Fang Xiu turned and was greeted by Zhuang Feng’s flaming sword.

Zhuang Feng stopped in front of a collapsed shrine. The flames lit up its features: a collapsed roof with only broken walls remaining. Within them stood a crooked statue…

A rough, snow-white porcelain idol.

It was the same as the one in the Temple of All E’s. The same as the one at the very start of the sacrifice. Despite the ruin around it, the statue glowed faintly. It had no face but held an eerie beauty.

…The God of Calamity.

The nameless god Zhuang Guiqu supposedly sealed in cooperation with the Underworld.

When Fang Xiu first heard of it, he’d tried to investigate. But so few souls knew anything that he found no records. It sounded like pure myth, so he dropped it.

He only recently learned about the Guishan Sect’s plan to release the God of Calamity.

Now he realized, “no information” might be the scariest information of all.

The Immortal Encounter E was clearly tied to the God of Calamity. The statue sat in the Temple of All E’s. And even Ghost Immortal A’Shou, guardian of the Disaster Relief Tower, knew nothing?

Fang Xiu looked at her and sure enough, saw shock on her face. He then looked at his own ghost and found… no. Bai Shuangying had turned his head ninety degrees, presenting the back of it.

Fang Xiu tilted his body and looked in the direction Bai Shuangying “faced”, then sucked in a sharp breath.

There was no fog on the mountain. The grass was dry. Soldiers had avoided the wet soil and placed oil-soaked cloth in the grassy areas. The cloth trail led right to the porcelain statue, like a snake’s shadow.

Zhuang Feng swung his flaming sword. A slash of light tore through the night.

With a loud crack, the porcelain statue shattered. Sparks flew, igniting the oil, and a fiery tongue raced forward.

Thick smoke billowed and flames shot up towards the sky. The hollow statue shattered, becoming rubble.

The mudslide zone was spared, but untouched vegetation caught quickly. Crimson fire lit half the sky and surged into the mountain forest. Within moments, most of the mountain was ablaze.

Firelight revealed the tears and smiles on survivors’ faces.

It also flickered in Fang Xiu’s eyes. Then he lowered his gaze, and the light vanished from them.

Above the broken shrine, Zhuang Feng sheathed his sword and raised his arm. The soldiers who had started the fire quickly moved to help recover the bodies of the dead, like Zhuang Guiqu’s personal army.

If this was a performance, it was a good one, Fang Xiu thought. Zhuang Guiqu clearly knew how to win the crowd. At this moment, Zhuang Feng was practically a saint to the survivors.

Despite the tension, A’Shou couldn’t help but sneer. “God knows how many lands the Kui Dynasty lost out west, but sure, all their elites are here.”

Fang Xiu: “You’ve heard of this disaster?”

“A mudslide, no. But something else, yes.”

She stared at the raging fire. “Just a few villages burned. That doesn’t qualify as a world-shaking disaster. This is just the appetizer… The God of Calamity is coming.”

Fang Xiu gave a disinterested “oh,” earning an exasperated look from her. She calmed down and added, “Whatever you’re doing, leave this place as soon as possible.”

“I’m just curious about the God of Calamity. Maybe it’ll help,” Fang Xiu said sincerely.

A’Shou was speechless. “If it’s just about the God of Calamity, I saw it once before…”

But her hands went to her temples and her voice weakened. She seemed to forget what she’d just said and repeated herself, “…Leave this place. Quickly.”

Yes. That’s what I want too. Leave quickly. This place won’t grant your wish.

Seeing A’Shou like this, Fang Xiu wasn’t surprised. He turned to grab his ghost and make a getaway, only to find Bai Shuangying still facing the other way like his neck had snapped.

Fang Xiu: “?”

He slowly reached out and turned Bai Shuangying’s face back. That handsome face was squished in his palm, those pale eyes still averted.

So guilty.

To be honest, Fang Xiu had always had a small suspicion.

He knew Bai Shuangying was probably connected to the God of Calamity. But the Disaster Relief Tower suppressed an untold number of spirits, so it wasn’t surprising to come into contact with a powerful inmate.

Since the ritual began, Bai Shuangying had been extremely well-behaved. There was none of his usual muttering. Considering how powerful the God of Calamity was, even affecting A’Shou, Fang Xiu wasn’t too surprised.

The only thing that made him feel slightly off was the Immortal Encounter E was related to karma, and so did Bai Shuangying’s powers. But thinking back to the Grave-Sealing E’s influence, Fang Xiu chalked it up to “a similar spell type”.

But why was his ghost acting so guilty? Judging from temperament, Bai Shuangying didn’t seem like the minion of some evil god.

Suddenly, Fang Xiu had a ridiculous thought…

What if, just what if… Bai Shuangying was the God of Calamity the Guishan Sect was trying to release?

His mind flashed through scenes of “Bai Shuangying’s body sliding on his bed”, “Bai Shuangying kissing him for three meals a day”, and “Bai Shuangying circling around him all day when he had nothing to do” and immediately dismissed the idea.

His ghost was simple, harmless, and easy to fool. There was no way he’d be involved in something this over-the-top.

Fang Xiu slapped himself lightly and looked back at the raging fire.

A’Shou was right. He should start planning how to get out of here.

Perfect. This story twist might really get him out of here.

Speaking of which, why is Fang Xiu interested in me?

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