Chapter 95

"A blind eye..." Ting He looked at Lin Yu. "How could there be such a coincidence in this world?"

"Of course not." Lin Yu closed the Book of Life and Death and rose to her feet. She called back to the ghost messenger outside, "Don't stop him. Let him in."

She flexed her stiff neck and fingers from flipping through the book for so long, then took a few steps. "Old grudges and new hatred—time to settle them all at once. Don't you think?"

Ting He darted up to Lin Yu, barely able to contain her excitement. "We've been looking for him for ages, and now he comes knocking on death's door himself. Fine—I'll grant him that wish!"

The ghost messenger's voice came again. "He's not far from the Ghost King's Palace now. Our men are right behind him—we can seize him and bring him to you at any moment."

Lin Yu stood at the palace gates and gazed ahead. "No need to follow him. For now, keep everyone away from the Ghost King's Palace. As for those from Heaven's Mandate Tower—make sure you keep a few alive. Lock them up below; I'll question them later."

"Keep... a few alive?" The ghost messenger hesitated. "There might not be many left."

Lin Yu could already picture the situation from his tone. "Then keep them all. Anyone still breathing—send them down to the cells."

"Understood."

Lin Yu pushed open the heavy doors of the Ghost King's Palace. Before long, a distant figure drew nearer, his features slowly coming into focus.

Lin Yu squinted. That familiar face appeared before her eyes.

"That's him! What do we do next?" Ting He was ready to charge, but Lin Yu called her back.

"Next?" Lin Yu chuckled softly and turned to walk back inside. She ascended the steps toward the Ghost King's throne, pausing before she sat. "We make him a fish in a barrel."

Lin Yu waved at Ting He. "Go."

...

Zhao Cheng crossed the dim Yellow Spring Road and arrived before the Ghost King's Palace. The doors stood wide open, and a dim yellow light spilled out, casting a long, wavering shadow behind him as he stood in the faint glow.

He glanced up at the plaque hanging overhead. A sinister chill seeped into his surroundings. He looked around—no one else in sight, just him alone on the vast road. An unspeakable dread crept over him.

Despite the unease churning in his chest, Zhao Cheng steeled himself and stepped toward the palace. The doors were open, and he entered unimpeded. He didn't notice that something in the shadows had slipped in alongside him, merging with his own shadow.

He had taken only a few steps inside when he saw a woman's figure on the throne. She reclined sideways upon it in a crimson robe, and all the light in the hall came from the night pearls behind her.

Light and shadow flickered, rising and fading.

The pearls cast their glow from behind her, so Zhao Cheng could only make out her silhouette—not her face. But a chilling dread gripped him, raising goosebumps across his skin. The woman on the throne... was she staring at him?

Zhao Cheng's heart pounded, but he didn't show it. "Are you the Ghost King?"

He studied the figure with suspicion. He remembered clearly: not long ago, the Xianzun had issued an order to slay the Ghost King. The Ghost King should have been dead by now. Why was a woman sitting here instead? Had Heaven's Mandate Tower failed in their mission?

"This disciple, Zhao Cheng of Heaven's Mandate Tower, pays respects to the Ghost King," he said, wisely kneeling in salute.

Zhao Cheng's main duty was to gather important sacrifices for Heaven's Mandate Tower. Most of the time, he traveled far and wide hunting for people. Tonight, after the Spring Sacrifice had ended, he finally had a moment to return to the tower—but before he'd even had a cup of tea, he received the Xianzun's order to go to the Ghost Realm and rescue the Divine Maiden.

He had no idea what had happened in between. All he'd heard was that the Divine Maiden had been attacked by a fierce beast and captured alive to the Ghost Realm, which was using her as a hostage to threaten the Xianzun. The Xianzun had passed down this order before leaving—where he'd gone, Zhao Cheng had no clue.

But such an urgent order from the Xianzun, and a mission as important as rescuing the Divine Maiden—if he succeeded, he'd climb the ranks easily. Zhao Cheng didn't want to spend his life hunting sacrifices. He wanted to become a true cultivator. He wanted to walk the path of immortality.

Fortunately, Zhao Cheng was efficient. Most of the sacrifices at every ritual had been brought back by him—his record spoke for itself. So when he received the order, Zhao Cheng volunteered to lead the mission, and the elders raised no objection.

His goal was clear: rescue the Divine Maiden, return in triumph, and shed his current position. He'd schemed his way into Heaven's Mandate Tower—not to be cannon fodder.

Just now, dealing with those ghost messengers, he'd shoved plenty of his fellow disciples to their deaths just to break through. He knew the Ghost Realm was formidable. If this woman really was the Ghost King, he stood no chance—let alone rescuing the Divine Maiden and claiming his reward.

If he couldn't win by force, he'd have to appeal to reason and emotion. And if that failed—threats and bribes.

The Ghost Realm was lowly; it wouldn't dare offend the human world. He was confident that intimidation was the most effective tactic.

The woman on the throne didn't respond. Zhao Cheng wasn't bothered. "May I ask the Ghost King—where is the Divine Maiden of Heaven's Mandate Tower?"

"I've come only to take her back. I have no intention of disturbing your Yellow Spring Road. Please forgive me." Zhao Cheng bowed his head, his forehead pressing against the cold floor. "If I've offended you in any way, I'll gladly accept punishment. I only ask that you return the Divine Maiden and not harm the harmony between the human world and your Ghost Realm."

Still no response, and no one told him to rise. Zhao Cheng could feel the weight of a gaze upon him, heavy with pressure. He dared not look up, so he pressed on, "I hear the Divine Maiden is now a hostage in your Ghost Realm. But her status is noble—she's surely unsuited to the hardships of captivity. I offer myself in her stead. Please, Ghost King, release her."

Zhao Cheng's reasoning was simple. Being a hostage had a time limit. How long could they hold him? Once the Xianzun returned, would the Ghost Realm dare keep him locked up?

He assumed the Xianzun was worried about the Divine Maiden suffering as a hostage, which was why he'd ordered a rescue. Once the Xianzun settled his affairs, the hostage would naturally be freed.

The Ghost Realm surely wouldn't dare offend the human world—especially Heaven's Mandate Tower, which had ties to the gods. His gesture would only earn him praise from the Xianzun and the Divine Maiden for his loyalty.

The woman on high finally spoke her first words. "You? Take her place?"

"Yes." Zhao Cheng straightened his back.

Lin Yu laughed, and the humor in it was pure mockery. "What are you worth?"

"What gave you the delusion that you could take the Divine Maiden's place?" Lin Yu descended the steps one by one until she stood before Zhao Cheng, who remained kneeling with his head bowed. A blood-red robe entered his field of vision.

Zhao Cheng's expression froze. He thought he caught a sharp, metallic scent of blood. His brow furrowed, and he lowered his head even further.

"Look up." The command rang through the vast hall, brooking no defiance.

Zhao Cheng swallowed hard, barely daring to breathe as he slowly raised his head. The moment he recognized Lin Yu, an explosion seemed to go off in his mind.

His knees went weak, nearly buckling beneath him. "How is it you?!"

Lin Yu raised an eyebrow. "Why not me?"

"Long time no see, Zhao Cheng."

Zhao Cheng's reaction was strange. By all logic, Lin Yu should have been burnt to death as a sacrifice long ago. Yet here she stood, and his first words weren't asking how she was still alive—they were asking why it was her.

Zhao Cheng had known all along that Lin Yu wasn't dead.

"You... why are you here..." Zhao Cheng tried to rise, but Lin Yu cast a spell, binding him in place.

Lin Yu didn't answer. Instead, she circled him slowly, studying him. "How long has it been since we last met?"

"Almost four months now, Zhao Cheng. Do you know that?" Lin Yu bent down, bringing her eyes level with his, smiling as she looked at him. "I still remember that morning. You said Old Woman Li at the end of the alley was on her last legs, and you begged me to go see her. I believed you."

Zhao Cheng's face turned ashen. "Stop talking!"

"By the time I got there, Old Woman Li was already dead. I didn't make it in time to save her." Lin Yu repeated his name again, as if passing judgment. "Zhao Cheng, do you know how she died?"

"I told you to shut up!" Zhao Cheng struggled against the magical bindings. "I don't care how she died. What's that got to do with me?"

"She had consumption. Every time she coughed, she'd spit blood. She often told me she couldn't breathe, that she'd wake up gasping in the middle of the night." Lin Yu's voice softened. "The old woman had no children, no family—she lived alone at the end of the alley. You felt for her, so you brewed and delivered her medicine every morning and evening. Three years, not a single day missed."

Lin Yu looked down at the young man's contorted face. "She always thought of you as her own son."

"So what?" Zhao Cheng laughed. "Am I her son? What could she give me? Wealth or fame? She was already a dying woman—if she could pave my way before she went, that was her honor!"

"She swallowed a knife." Lin Yu's words cut through the air, and silence fell. Zhao Cheng looked up, baffled.

"The general's men had surrounded her courtyard to capture me. The old woman, to keep from dragging me down, grabbed a dagger and tried to end her own life. That enraged the general's daughter, who shoved the blade into Old Woman Li's mouth. Her tongue was cut clean through. The tip pierced her throat."

"She didn't struggle. She died peacefully." Lin Yu met Zhao Cheng's eyes, then seized his neck in a hard grip. "Zhao Cheng, what is your heart made of?"

"You didn't see Old Woman Li die. But what about when the medicine shop caught fire?" Lin Yu rarely let her anger run so hot; the strength in her grip unconsciously tightened. Zhao Cheng could barely draw breath, his face turning blue and purple.

"I told you—if you come into my medicine shop, we're family. We're all each other's kin. But how did you treat us? You schemed to send me to my death, you turned a blind eye to Old Woman Li, you let Aunt Zhao and Uncle Da Niu burn to death without lifting a finger. And what about Qiao Yin and Ji'er? They were so young. Qiao Yin hadn't even come of age, and Ji'er was only ten years old!"

Lin Yu took a deep breath. "Ji'er followed you around every day. Whenever she couldn't find you, she'd mumble about you, asking where you'd gone."

"Zhao Cheng, don't you feel any guilt?"

Zhao Cheng used every ounce of his strength, his survival instinct driving him to struggle. Some sensation returned to him, and he clawed at Lin Yu's wrist with both hands, trying to break free.

He saw the malice in her eyes, and at death's door, he burst into wild laughter. "Family? Did any of you ever take me seriously?"

"Lin Yu, do you know—of all the people in this world, I hate you the most!"

"It's you!" Zhao Cheng's voice was hoarse. "If you hadn't refused to save me, I wouldn't have lost an eye!"

"Hahaha... cough!" Zhao Cheng choked on his own laughter and coughed violently. "You ask if I feel guilt—what about you? When you see my blind left eye, do you feel any guilt?!"