Break Through

The cemetery.

Beyond the mass grave, seven or eight li down the road, lay Fengxian County's largest cemetery. For centuries, it had weathered wind and rain, burying many people of status and renown.

Weeds choked the paths, crows cried mournfully, tombstones leaned at crooked angles, and a heavy gloom hung over the place.

This cemetery had a long history, bearing witness to the rise and fall of countless families. Those whose fortunes flourished had more and more tombstones erected, and their graves were often visited. Those who had gone far away returned once every three to five years, leaving their graves somewhat neglected. Those whose descendants had not returned for three generations had long been forgotten; their ancestors' graves lay unattended, their tombs empty, with no one even left to report their deaths.

Xu Jixian gazed at the crumbling graves, moved by the scene. A look of sorrow crossed his dark horse-like face, and for once, he grew solemn.

He found the resting place of the Xu family's ancestors and paid his respects to each one in turn. He laid out offerings and scattered yellow joss paper, choking up as he apologized for his unworthy descendants' belated visit and begged his ancestors not to take offense.

Xiang Yuan and Xiao He followed suit. The Xu family had few members, so the two of them made up the numbers, just to placate the old men and women below.

As the paper money burned, a whirlwind sprang up. An invisible pillar rose, carrying ash and sparks high into the air.

"Brother Xu, don't grieve in front of your ancestors. Look, your Xu forebears are speaking up, expressing their longing for you," Xiao He urged.

No, that was just a matter of air pressure.

Xiang Yuan supplied the correct answer in his mind. He couldn't remember the exact explanation, only that hot and cold air met, creating pressure and producing a particular kind of airflow.

Of course, in this strange and fantastical world, perhaps the Xu ancestors really did know what was happening from beyond the grave. Maybe they had all come forth to teach Xu Jixian to study hard and restore the family's glory.

Thinking of this, Xiang Yuan decided to speak for the old men and women. "Brother Xu, study hard from now on and break your bad habits. Only then can you comfort the Xu family's ancestors resting beneath the Yellow Springs."

"What you both say is absolutely right. Starting tomorrow, I'll study hard and give it my all!" Xu Jixian wiped away his tears and declared loudly.

Xiang Yuan knew at once it was hopeless. Seeing the crows descend in the west, he urged Xu Jixian to hurry. At this hour, there was no telling whether they'd run into ghosts after nightfall.

Ghosts weren't the problem. The real worry was running into disciples of the Yellow Springs Dao.

Xiang Yuan wasn't going to get cocky just because he'd cut down that black-robed figure with one slash. He knew perfectly well that he'd gotten lucky last time. If he tried again, he might succeed—but if the Yellow Springs Dao disciples traveled in a group and were prepared for him, that move wouldn't work.

Xu Jixian nodded and busied himself for a good while. They left the cemetery just before the sky grew completely dark.

Inside the carriage, Xiang Yuan stayed on high alert, gripping the hilt of his saber as he gathered the intent of a猛 tiger.

In his other hand, he held Wang Wenxu's calligraphy. If any ghost appeared, he would kill it at once.

Xiao He lolled his head and hummed a tune carelessly, teasing him. "Brother Yuan, what are you so tense about? We ran into a ghost once. With the kind of luck we've got, it's not like we'll run into one every time."

It was precisely because of you and Brother Xu's luck that I'm worried!

Xiang Yuan ignored Xiao He. When the carriage reached the mass grave, he grew even more cautious. He lifted the carriage curtain with the crossbar and scanned the surroundings with his tiger-like eyes.

Night had fallen. Gloom shrouded the land, and the sky held neither moon nor stars. Only the outline of the mass grave stood clear. Pale light shimmered over mounds and pits, while a few deep-green ghost fires flickered here and there.

The surrounding dead trees twisted like the claws of evil spirits, reaching toward the sky. Wild dogs growled in the distance, and crows stared with blood-red eyes from the branches. Faint, mournful wails and playful laughter drifted about, now and then seeming to sound right beside them.

This place was way too creepy.

Xiang Yuan nodded toward Xiao He. The latter shrugged. That was just what the mass grave was like; there was no need to make a fuss.

Guess I was just ignorant. I'll be on my way, then!

Xiang Yuan's mouth twitched. Seeing Xiao He's thoroughly accustomed expression, and how Xu Jixian, driving the carriage, wasn't making a fuss either, he found his courage growing.

If those two idiots weren't scared, he couldn't be scared either.

Crack!

A sharp snap rang out, especially clear in the mass grave's deathly silence. Xiang Yuan's heart lurched. He gripped his saber and looked over.

Nearby, a yellowed hand bone burst through the earth. Ghost fire flared half a zhang high, startling the crows into squawking as they flew away. The wild dogs growled more frequently.

Xiang Yuan's scalp nearly burst with fear. He was afraid this was only the beginning, and that a horde of ghosts would come crawling out next.

But it seemed he'd imagined too much. The thing had just come out for a breath of fresh air. No other ghosts came out for a stroll, and none stopped the carriage to rob them of their bodies or borrow their yang energy.

The carriage rolled safely out of the mass grave and onto the main road to the county seat. By his estimate, they had enough time to reach the gates before they closed at the first quarter of the Xu hour.

Xiang Yuan breathed a sigh of relief inwardly, though his expression remained calm. He lowered the carriage curtain and reminded Xu Jixian to keep moving.

But not too fast. It wouldn't do to overturn the carriage.

No sooner had he finished speaking than they hit a pothole and jolted with a loud clatter.

Xu Jixian's triumphant laugh came from outside the curtain. Xiang Yuan was equal parts annoyed and amused, but since they'd made it through the mass grave without incident, he let it go.

An incense stick's worth of time later, a faint chill swept over them. An all-pervading mist squeezed through the carriage curtains.

Xiang Yuan looked out and was horrified. He used the calligraphy to lift the curtain, saw the scenery outside, and felt his back grow instantly slick with cold sweat.

The mass grave glimmered with a hazy green light, its outline clear. The dead trees around it looked like ghosts, dotted with blood-red eyes.

They were back again!

Compared with before, thick mist now drifted all around them, making the terrifying atmosphere far more oppressive.

"Brother Xu, this isn't the time for jokes!" Xiang Yuan said sternly, deliberately stressing his words.

"I didn't, I didn't... I wouldn't dare..."

Xu Jixian's teeth chattered. "I'm not driving anymore!" he stammered, then darted into the carriage and clung to Xiao He.

The two of them shivered together, four eyes fixed on Xiang Yuan, waiting for him to decide what to do.

Xiang Yuan took a deep breath. Afraid the horse might panic and charge straight into the wrong person's home, he suppressed his fear, lifted the curtain, and took over the reins.

Last time, it had been a ghost obscuring their vision. This time, it was a ghostly maze. The principle was the same, but there were far more ghosts this time, making it much more dangerous—and much harder to break.

Xiang Yuan pushed aside the crossbar and spread Wang Wenxu's calligraphy in front of him. He held the reins in one hand and gripped his saber with the other, sweeping his tiger-like gaze across the illusory figures emerging from the mist and keeping them at bay.

There were many ghosts, but none had become powerful. He hadn't seen a single one capable of taking human form like Widow Wang.

Xiang Yuan guessed the ghostly maze was necessarily connected to the terrain of the mass grave. The ghosts themselves couldn't have such an ability. Unless...

There were Yellow Springs Dao disciples nearby!

Just then, for some unknown reason, the horse bolted in fright. After a long, shrill whinny, it galloped off without direction.

Xiang Yuan found the carriage jolting wildly and difficult to control. He hurriedly called, "Forty, Xiao He! Brother Xu, get out, now!"

He called once, but no one answered. He called a second time, and still heard nothing. Xiang Yuan lifted the curtain. The carriage was empty. There was no sign of either idiot.

When did they disappear?

Xiang Yuan's eyes widened as waves of shock surged through him. Fear chilled him, while anger and frustration rose from the depths of his heart. He flipped out of the carriage, abandoned the horse, and leaped into the air. Using the Thousand-Pound Drop technique, he slammed to the ground and scattered the thick mist as it swept toward him like ghostly hands.

Bang!

He held his saber at his side and the calligraphy in his hand, scanning the shadowy figures all around him. In a cold voice, he called, "What kind of demon or monster are you? Show yourselves at once!"

"Hehehe—"

A bell-like laugh rang out from every direction. No one could tell whether it came from a person or a ghost. It drifted through the eerie mist, chilling to the bone.

The laughter was sweet and clear, yet held an elusive, sinister quality. It was like invisible threads winding around Xiang Yuan's heart—at times, the innocent play of a child, at others, the sly whisper of a seductress. It drew him in, yet concealed murderous intent.

The magic in the laughter bewitched Xiang Yuan's mind, stirring an urge he could barely suppress. The mist before his eyes shifted, transforming into everything he desired.

Beautiful women sang and danced, their graceful figures moving with light steps. Every turn and every glance was filled with endless allure. A fever rose from within him, and he wanted to remain forever wrapped in their tender embrace.

Gold and silver lay piled like mountains, their brilliance dazzling. Every gold brick and every jewel was impossible to resist. They tempted him to drown in endless wealth and forget everything in the world.

Divine weapons and sharp blades stood on display, their cold gleam fierce and imposing, each brimming with tremendous power. Any one of them could let a person conquer every direction and rule the world. He reached out to touch them, wanting to claim them for himself.

There were countless peerless martial arts lost to history, elixirs and medicines that could transform the body or grant immortality, and countless treasures capable of churning rivers and seas...

There was no end to them, and each was difficult to give up.

Xiang Yuan knew they were all illusions, all false. He couldn't lose himself in them and be driven by desire; otherwise, his true nature would be corrupted, bringing endless trouble and ruin, and he would fall forever into the abyss.

He held his breath and suppressed the restless longing in his heart. Biting the tip of his tongue, he widened his tiger-like eyes and used the force of a猛 tiger to shatter the first illusion of a beautiful woman.

He encountered mountains of gold and silver, hesitated briefly, then broke through.

He encountered divine weapons and sharp blades, struggled for a long while, then broke through.

He had started strong, but his momentum waned, and after three attempts, he was spent. Faced with peerless martial arts, immortal elixirs, and countless treasures—things he desired most—he struggled to defend himself, surrounded by mist with no way out.

The next moment, Xiang Yuan's eyes sharpened. His heart turned cold, and that chill froze the mist. Ignoring the things he desired most, he drew his saber and cleaved through them all.

The final scene among the many illusions was the power he desired most. The mist roiled and took the shape of a familiar figure.

A Daoist robe, a long beard, and the Bagua Heart-Protecting Mirror in his hand—it was none other than his master, Heartless Daoist.

In Xiang Yuan's heart, Old Daoist Quexin was the strongest. He was the embodiment of power in Xiang Yuan's mind, and the one he found hardest to oppose.

At a single glance, Xiang Yuan couldn't even bring himself to fight.

"Quit your tricks and show your—"

A flash of saber light flared silver-white. With a fearless, unyielding heart, unmoved by anything outside himself, Xiang Yuan slashed down without holding back. The blow struck Old Daoist Quexin's crown and split him in two.

Break through.

"Die!"