Chapter 75.
I’ve been well, but you’re sick

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The Ghost King, who thought highly of himself, never expected this prey he deemed to be in his bag to suddenly start acting like a host, trying to manipulate him.

In his bag: at his disposal

The Ghost King was enraged internally, but nothing could change the fact that he was outplayed.
Changming took the chance to catch him firmly, and, since the Ghost King could not find a flaw in Changming’s defenses, Changming was free to lead the Ghost King by his nose as he pleased.

“Ming Hui, a very beautiful lady.”

Right, she was beautiful.

It was early spring.
She had come from a river bank, wearing a skirt with a pattern of spring grass embroidered on it, while lavender flowers bloomed around her.
The skirt swayed gently as she took steps.
She had embroidered that spring grass pattern with her own hands.
Her skirt had been so well-made that it made people wonder whether the flowers were blooming on her skirt, or whether the spring grass had sprouted from her skirt to adorn the flowers around her. 

She was very skilled with handiwork, and her facial features were exquisite.
People used to say that the idiom “appearance of a fragrant orchid and heart of a lily magnolia” had been invented specifically to describe her.

Appearance of a fragrant orchid and heart of a lily magnolia: a beautiful and pure woman

But that was not her only virtue.

Ming Hui was smart, but she was not that type of petty, shrewd person.
She could learn almost anything from one glance.
If her meridians had not been congenitally weak, given her aptitude, she would have become a skilled cultivator of the master level.
But, unfortunately, the heavens were jealous of geniuses, and Ming Hui could not cultivate even a basic technique of inner breath.
However, she was not discouraged by this fact.
She started studying, and soon almost every book had been read by her.
Not only had she learnt from these books so well that she could recite them backwards, but she could even read through the meaning implied by the author between the lines, and repeat it back to him.
Unfortunately, Confucian schools did not accept women, so she could only study by herself, asking for advice from a famous daru privately.
When the so-called celebrated scholar learned she was a woman, he refused to answer her, and simply shut his doors in front of her, so she had no chance to ask her questions.
He could not restrain his anger and wanted to teach that person a lesson, but was stopped by Ming Hui.

She said, if Confucian schools did not accept her, her teachers would be books; if she could not cultivate, she would help him cultivate.
She started studying medicine, not only to be able to help the people of the world, but also to heal him in case he would need it.

“What happened afterward?”

Afterward…

Deep inside his consciousness, there was a voice warning the Ghost King to come to his senses as soon as possible.
He clenched his fist and wanted to grab Changming, but stopped halfway again.
His breath deepened, and his eyelids were trembling, as if he would open his eyes at any moment.

Hè Xiyun was looking at him, struck with horror.

When the Ghost King had been put under Changming’s control, the evil spirits around them had become weaker as well.
Hé Qingmo and Hè Xiyun were fending off the ghosts and watching the scene between the Ghost King and Changming at the same time.

“What’s going on…”

Zhang Jie slowly regained consciousness.
He was holding his head, frowning deeply.

He seemed to still be trapped inside the shadow that had been cast on his heart, as a result of having been captured in order to participate in a posthumous marriage.
He was trembling from time to time, dread flashing through his eyes.

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“Where are we?”

No one had time to dispel his doubts.
Hè Xiyun swung her sword, cutting a girl in red into halves.
Although it had a ghost body, its blood splattered on Zhang Jie’s face, and he could not help shouting.

“Ah!!!”

The Ghost King trembled, opening his eyes abruptly.

Zhang Jie’s scream helped him to break free from the demonic melody for a short time.
His eyes scanned the surroundings, and he suddenly moved.
His ghost qi surged, hurtling right towards Changming’s head.

“Sword, come!”

Changming managed to dodge it in time, forming a sword seal with his fingers.
The Sifei Sword stopped in front of him, its incandescent glow blocking the overwhelming wave of ghost qi.

Ghosts were wailing all around them, one howl louder than another, like starving beasts ready to pounce on their chosen prey.
Their piercing screams were brimming with rancor, as they refused to let them go until killing the last one of them.

“[Deities manifest in the Three Pure Ones, hearts indifferent to the five elements; deep-purple shells the sword, arranging the balance, move!]”

Hé Qingmo’s expression was cold and solemn as his fingers formed a seal, igniting his sword’s glow.
In a moment, purple qi surged to the sky, with him standing in the middle.
The sword qi scattered all around, spreading to every corner.
In this moment, the world around them was cleansed, becoming pure once again.

It seems like “the three pure ones” in his incantation relates to driving away the ghost qi, “hearts indifferent” — to his solemn expression, “purple qi” is clear, and finally “arranging the balance” — to cleansing the surroundings

The wailing ghosts calmed down immediately.
Everything within half a li around him turned tranquil for some time.

Hè Xiyun was running out of energy.
She breathed out quietly, thinking to herself, If I were alone here, I wouldn’t have managed to deal with it, and probably would have even become a burden to Changming.

Thankfully, Hé Qingmo was here.

But in truth, Hé Qingmo was not dealing with it easily.
Although he did not make it obvious, he was silently observing Changming’s every movement.

He understood the situation clearly: while Changming was safe, they would not suffer, but if something happened to him, they would not escape either.

Clang!

The Sifei Sword rang, making the ghost qi of the resenting spirits tremble in fear.

The Ghost King did not feel a menacing sword qi assault his senses, but rather a spring breeze caressing his face, just like—

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Just like Ming Hui’s gentle hands.

“How did Ming Hui die?”

Changming asked softly, as if they were old friends in a cordial setting, his voice devoid of boorishness.

The Ghost King frowned.
His half-stretched out hand fell down, and the ghost qi dispersed, turning into black butterflies dancing in the air unhurriedly.
His consciousness was slowly sinking.

It seemed like the day when Ming Hui died was as pitch-dark as today.

She fell into his arms, unable to speak because of her illness.
She could only watch him with her eyes, which had long eyelashes, and could not restrain her grief.

He could feel Ming Hui’s breath becoming weaker little by little, inexorably.
He had only started treading on the path of cultivation, and had only superficial knowledge of some techniques.
He could only take Ming Hui to his teacher, asking for help.
But the teacher said that she had lived through the time allotted for her, and even an immortal could hardly help her, let alone him.

White rays of qi were gushing out of Ming Hui.
These rays were her vitality.

He could watch, but could not reverse the desperate situation.

A-You…

Ming Hui was in agony.
He knew that being alive had also turned into torture for her.

He put his hand on Ming Hui’s neck, and she looked at him with expectant eyes.

She wanted to end this suffering a little earlier.

He slowly tightened up his grip, his expression even graver than that of the person in his arms.

Ming Hui’s life force was wasting away even faster.
Her face flushed, and then paled again, while her body trembled involuntarily.
However, very soon, there was no strength left in her, and her body relaxed gradually before becoming stiff after some time had passed.

He buried Ming Hui with his own hands, but afterwards…

She unexpectedly turned into a ferocious ghost that killed people if it had a chance to, and murdered demons if it met them—she did not recognise even him.

Ming Hui, who had clearly died in his arms, had lost two immortal souls and three mortal forms all of sudden.

Afterwards, he turned into a ghost as well.
He had subdued hundreds of ghosts, becoming a ghost cultivator.

But he could not find his Ming Hui again.

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He could not find that girl, slowly waiting for her to come back by a path full of flowers.

Coming back by a path full of flowers: definitely from “flowers are blooming alongside the road, come home slowly”, meaning “husband waiting for his wife to return”

“Your Ming Hui was targeted by a technique while she was alive, and her souls were taken away after she died.
She had no way to the heavens, and couldn’t enter the earth, unable to choose when to die even if she begged for it.
Having one’s souls be restless is the worst torture one can face in this world.
Daoists have an art of restraining ghosts, Buddhists have a vajra teaching of subduing ghosts, and demonic cultivators have a way to consume the cultivation of a ghost, turning it into a spirit to nourish their own cultivation bases.
You’ve been cultivating for many years, earning the title of the king of hundreds of ghosts.
You should know better than I do: who would put her through such suffering?”

Has no way to the heavens, and can’t enter the earth: to be at the end of one’s rope

Who?

The Ghost King breathed out heavily, and intense black flames slowly enveloped his figure.
The ghosts that had stopped wailing a long time ago seemed to have echoed his mental state, and the surroundings became full of distinct noises once again, coming closer to them.

They could not even tell right from left in the darkness.
Hè Xiyun felt a cold murderous qi rushing at them again, freezing them to the bones.
But, more than feeling cold, it terrified them, filling the air with resentment and murderous intent, as if it wanted to peel their skin, break their bones, devour their flesh and swallow their blood.

Suddenly, the flames around the Ghost King erupted with a bang!

He opened his savage eyes, his blood-red lips glistening.
The murderous qi around him was denser than ever, and he was staring at the person in front of his eyes intensely, as if looking through him into the boundless void.

Changming was standing face to face with him, his expression indifferent, as if he was undisturbed by what he was seeing.

The Ghost King uttered slowly: “A Vajra Teaching of Subduing Ghosts!”

…

Xu Jingxian was thinking that jumping down here might have been a bad decision.

Because that Buddhist monk did not come here for her sake.

There was a mountain valley under the curling clouds.

If a common person fell down the cliff, they would most certainly lose their life.
For a cultivator, that was only a slightly longer leap than usual.

There were five people who had fallen into the valley in Xu Jingxian’s line of sight.

Five, including her.

The Buddhist monk who had forced Xu Jingxian to jump off the cliff was standing in front of Yun Weisi, speechless.

They seemed to be former acquaintances, but not the usual type of former acquaintances.

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However, neither of them showed the pleasantly surprised expression of reuniting with a friend.

Yet it was unlikely that they were enemies either.

“It’s you.”

The Buddhist monk had been staring at Yun Weisi for a long time, as if afraid he had mistaken Yun Weisi for someone else.
For a moment, he revealed a shocked expression, but quickly regained his composure.

“I didn’t expect you to actually come back from the Nine Layers of the Abyss.
Yun Weisi, long time no see, I hope you’ve been well since we last met?”

Yun Weisi remained silent.

The Buddhist monk squinted slightly with a smile, but there was no laughter in his eyes.

“As far as I remember, that year Daozun Yun sacrificed himself for the sake of the humans of the world, and willingly entered the Nine Layers of the Abyss to oversee it.
This poor monk was ineffably fascinated by such aspirations, thought it’d be difficult to meet Daozun Yun again in this life, and regretted this turn of events.
But in the end, Daozun Yun was unable to withstand his loneliness, and left the Nine Layers of the Abyss.
Could it be that that place of myriad illusions still couldn’t surpass the red dust of our boundless world of mortals, so Daozun Yun couldn’t stop yearning for it?”

The tone of his words could not be more gentle, as if standing in front of him was his lover from whom he had been separated for many years, and, as such, he was now full of affection for them.
His voice was also very pleasant to hear, low but not too deep, clear yet melodious.
Even the ears of the seductress Xu Jingxian blushed slightly.

“I’ve been well, but you’re sick,” Yun Weisi was speaking slowly, his face expressionless, “School Head Sun, you’re so worried about me.
Could it be that you used to have some shameful thoughts about me in the past, so now you’re losing your mind in the spur of the moment? You’ve been immersed in Buddhist teachings for so many years in vain that you can’t even comprehend human’s emotions now.
I’m afraid I have to disappoint you: my heart was never set on you.”

Xu Jingxian gasped slightly, suspecting that she had heard some unspeakable inside story of the Jianghu.

But, looking at Yun Weisi again, he seemed to be simply taunting the other.

Few people of the world had earned this title, “School Head”, and a school head surnamed Sun could only be one person.

If she had not heard it wrong, this school head surnamed Sun should have been Sun Buku from the Qingyun School, known to the world as the esteemed Zen Master Buku.

Speaking of which, they had just met Kuhe from the Qingyun School, and stumbled upon this leader of the bald donkeys so quickly.

Xu Jingxian remembered that this Zen Master Buku used to be Jiufang Changming’s disciple.
Afterwards, Jiufang Changming left Buddhism, and Sun Buku announced that his teacher had betrayed the Buddhist sects, and even proclaimed publicly that they had shattered the relationship of a master and his disciple.
Sun Buku even swore he would not rest until he had killed his former teacher.

That is to say, Sun Buku and Yun Weisi could be called fellow disciples.

Buddhists and Daoists had always had disputes.
Now, two fellow disciples had met, but their factions differed.
Wouldn’t that mean they were even more on the verge of fighting?

At this moment, Xu Jingxian regretted that they met at a bad time like this, and she could not sit on a bench and enjoy the unfolding play, fanning herself.