"Ethan Zhang, ah, the air here is so much cleaner. If I had to stay any longer, I think I'd suffocate."
Zhang Jizheng spoke. The cacophony of voices, the endless roar of traffic, pressed against my ears. Looking down, I realized I had returned to the world of the living—a place that now felt impossibly distant. I managed a hollow smile.
The Divine Emperor promised that as long as Wu Xiaoli and the others wished it, they could return to the living world. But once there, they would become like Yakshas—driven by the urge to devour human flesh. I must never forget this.
That hunger for flesh can't be suppressed. Their bodies are pure condensations of yin energy, forced into physical form. In the living world, the only way to resist the crushing force of yang energy is to feed. There is no cure.
A wave of ghostly energy swept toward us, thick with menace—I knew instantly it was Vivian Maple.
"You're back, Ethan Zhang. Go to the Hall of Malice—everyone is waiting for you."
"Vivian Maple."
I glanced at her. Sorrow haunted her eyes, but her gaze slipped past me—toward Isabelle Frost, standing on the rooftop, her eyes blindfolded with a strip of red cloth.
"Miss Isabelle, your eyes..."
Isabelle Frost smiled faintly and shook her head.
"It doesn't matter anymore."
We followed Vivian Maple to Redmane Entertainment's headquarters. In under ten minutes, we reached the top floor. A gash in space yawned open—we slipped inside.
At the Hall of Malice's entrance, I peered inside. Everyone was there except Quentin Yin—a gathering that felt unnatural, heavy with dread.
All the Blackfang members were present. Rufina Howard sat at a table; after two years of restless sleep, her face was older, stripped of innocence. She looked at me, trembling, tears brimming in her eyes.
"Come in, Ethan Zhang."
Redmane spoke. I nodded and stepped inside. Mr. Brown sat in silence to my right; I glanced at him, feeling the weight of the room pressing down.
"Let me tell you what happened, Ethan Zhang."
Mona Ouyang rose and smiled—a brittle gesture—then began to speak.
While we were inside, the Taoists came to the Hall of Malice to trade with Redmane, desperate to reclaim their magical artifacts. The air was thick with unease. They released the spell on Rufina Howard.
After Rufina Howard awoke, the trade devolved into bitter dispute. Both sides locked in a standoff. Then, the Immortality Society arrived—the tension snapped, and dread seeped in.
A large-scale battle broke out in the Hall of Malice. Redmane's subordinates fought with all their might, but Redmane did not notify the other Ghost Sovereigns. In the end, both sides suffered heavy losses. The Immortality Society took back Zuo Quanyi. Some Taoists colluded with the Immortality Society, which is how they managed to enter the Hall of Malice.
Afterward, the Taoists gave no explanation. Amid the chaos, they also retrieved their magical artifacts and left the Hall of Malice. Once the battle ended, everything calmed down.
But then, Old Tom arrived at the Hall of Malice.
My heart tightened as I looked at Mona Ouyang. He waved his hand, and a stream of violet energy rushed toward Isabelle Frost and me.
"From here on, you'll have to see for yourselves."
In a larger lounge, Quentin Yin sat with his legs crossed, Mr. Brown beside him, while Old Tom smiled at Quentin Yin.
"That kid Ethan Zhang is probably in trouble, isn't he?"
Quentin Yin smiled.
"He's not someone who'd die so easily."
"Old Tom, what exactly did you come here for this time?"
Old Tom smiled.
"I have a method that can send one of you to the other world. Although you can only stay briefly, at least you’ll be able to help for real."
Quentin Yin made a sound of acknowledgment, looking thoughtfully at Old Tom.
"Young master, I think it’s still quite dangerous. The Immortality Society might be plotting something behind the scenes."
At that moment, Quentin Yin stood up.
"I’ll go myself. Little Tom, get ready. When do we leave?"
"Uncle Quentin, this can’t be rushed. We need enough spells to cross into the other world—it’s complicated and requires a lot of things. It might take half a month."
"By the way, Little Tom, it’s rare to see you so enthusiastic."
Quentin Yin said, and Old Tom laughed.
"Ethan Zhang still needs to grow, and you, as his half-teacher, are indispensable. In the past, every time he managed to cross over, it was thanks to your guidance, wasn’t it, Uncle Quentin?"
Quentin Yin laughed, but at that moment, Mr. Brown’s eyes showed concern.
After Old Tom left, Mr. Brown stood up.
"Young master, let me go. If those people want to take me out, they’ll have to consider the cost."
Quentin Yin shook his head.
"Mr. Brown, your power shouldn’t be revealed for now. You’re our trump card."
Mr. Brown snorted and sat down heavily.
"Young master, you’re scheming something again. Don’t think I don’t know."
Quentin Yin laughed heartily, while Mr. Brown’s smile faded.
"Young master, there’s something off about Little Tom, but I can’t put my finger on it."
"Don’t worry. As long as we’re useful to Little Tom, he won’t act out of line."
Mr. Brown still looked worried.
"Be careful with everything, young master. Times have changed, and as for Miss..."
"Enough, Mr. Brown. That foolish sister is a big problem too. At least if I go, I might provoke her mind, right?"
Mr. Brown sighed and shook his head.
Half a month later, Old Tom returned to the Hall of Malice. On a wide street, a pale blue ritual array was ready. Quentin Yin and Old Tom stood in the center.
"Quentin Yin, I advise you not to be too reckless. If you can’t come back, what will you do?"
"Redmane, with your intelligence, I don’t want to discuss anything with you."
Redmane glared at Quentin Yin, then cursed angrily.
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"If you want to die, I won’t stop you. Suit yourself—go die, Quentin Yin."
A faint blue glow rose up, and Quentin Yin and Old Tom vanished into the formation. The memory ends here.
I opened my eyes and looked at Redmane, who appeared dejected.
Quentin Yin shouldn’t die so easily…
Redmane didn’t continue. Beside him, Yvonne May watched intently.
In Jiuchen, Quentin Yin has already disappeared.
Suddenly, Mr. Brown stood up, his face twisted with anger.
What did the young master look like at the end?
A pair of sorrowful eyes turned to me. I took out a fragment of Rage Blood, and several pairs of eyes fixed upon me.
The only thing I could do was, by instinct, leave this fragment behind.
As I spoke, I walked to Mr. Brown and handed him the fragment.
Any news from the Nether Syndicate, Vivian Maple?
Redmane asked, and Vivian Maple shook her head.
No idea where that dead cat went.
At that moment, a red glow shimmered on the fragment—Mr. Brown was infusing it with ghost energy, and then green ghost threads stretched out, connecting us.
I slowly closed my eyes.
A burst of wild laughter—it was Quentin Yin and Old Tom, surrounded by darkness.
Kitten, you did well. Heh, with your sorcery, Xu Fu won’t have much to cry about now.
Old Tom nodded.
Uncle Yin, do you remember? Back when I followed you, there was something you always told me.
The heights are cold, and walking on ice is perilous.
As Quentin Yin spoke, his smile faded. He stared at Old Tom.
Hurry up, Kitten. When we get back, I still have...
Uncle Yin, if we can’t go back, what would you do?
The smile vanished from Old Tom’s face. He looked at Quentin Yin with solemn seriousness.
This is a passage created by those from the Corpse Realm, isn’t it?
Old Tom nodded again.
Impressive, Uncle Yin. You knew after only the second time. The heights are cold, and walking on ice is perilous. Uncle Yin, I’m grateful for everything back then.
Quentin Yin looked at Old Tom with a smile that was not quite a smile.
When did you want to kill me, Kitten?
From the very beginning.
In an instant, Old Tom’s face twisted into a snarl, his gaze locked entirely on Quentin Yin.
For a long time, I’ve wondered, Uncle Yin—when it comes to cunning, you’ve climbed the ranks of the ghost path, crushing countless strong foes. Your power terrifies all, but how do you kill someone stronger than yourself?
Looks like today, this is where I’ll be buried.
Quentin Yin smiled as he spoke. Suddenly, Old Tom raised his cat-headed staff—with a metallic ring, Quentin Yin vanished from sight. But to his side, Quentin Yin appeared, wielding Rage Blood, swinging down.
Uncle Yin, you taught me—if you don’t want to be taken down, you must show weakness, let others think they can kill you, then strike when they least expect it. That’s the surest way. Did you forget? Now your power is suppressed by the Sanzu, and I’m stronger than you.
With a screech, the sound of a cat’s cry—Quentin Yin’s body was instantly torn apart. Old Tom kept his monk’s smile. Then, behind Old Tom, a pale yellow bulge appeared.
Need a hand?
It was Tan Tian. I clenched my fists and glared at him, teeth gritted.
To kill Uncle Yin is nearly impossible. The only way is to sever his bond with the Killing Stone. Now, all the conditions are met. Uncle Yin, you shouldn’t have given the Killing Stone to Zhang Qingyuan. That’s why you’ve fallen through thin ice into the abyss this time.
A chill ran through me as I stared at Quentin Yin. He laughed, reformed, and slowly floated upward, exuding a dominating aura.
Kitten, not bad, heh. Come then, how many are left? Since this is my grave, I might as well make the most of it, don’t you think, Immortality Society?
A round of applause rang out—it was Wang Qi, the first to step forward.
We’re not here to help. We’re only here to witness the fate of the Blood Fiend Ghost Sovereign, the one who terrifies both worlds. What will his end be?