Chapter 143: Liking

"Are you happy?"

That whispered voice echoed across the sea surface, as melodious and ethereal as silver bells in the wind. Yet, upon the sea at this moment, ghost fires paved the waves that continuously rose and fell, featuring a man with an ashen face unlike the living, and a bizarre, alluring, hazy black shadow. That sweet voice was consequently tainted with a chilling ghost qi.

The voice gradually faded into the ocean waves.

The ashen-faced man remained silent for a moment, then slowly nodded, answering with a blank and vacant gaze, "Happy."

"Why? He is the one who killed you, after all!" The hazy black shadow stretched and elongated its neck like a snake, slowly retracting it to linger by the man's ear, speaking with a breath as fragrant as orchids.

"Because... you will be happy." The man's gaze still retained a hint of vacancy. He slightly tilted his head, speaking rigidly, slowly, and word by word.

"Is that so?"

The black shadow laughed softly and enchantingly, dragging its form to completely flatten itself against the man's body and fuse with him.

"Let's go."

"She" finally said.

The last corner of the boat beneath the man's feet finally sank entirely into the seawater.

His bare feet stepped upon the ocean, with pale blue ghost fires burning beneath his soles. Step by step, treading upon the spectral flames and the surging waves, he walked toward the giant wall of mist looming between heaven and earth not far away.

Behind him were charred corpses drifting and shifting with the tide, expanding like an ever-blooming flower of death...

He kept moving forward, ever forward, drawing closer and closer to that massive wall of mist. As the distance closed, the ominous ashen hue on his face grew fainter, and the bizarre, hazy shadow on his back also grew lighter. Yet, that shadow still clung to his shoulder, its head held straight and rigid, staring fixedly ahead at the massive, heavy wall of mist.

The man walked into the mist wall, plunging deeper step by step. Countless vortexes of mist swirled around him and the shadow on his back, and turbulent waves of mist battered his body.

He swayed within the roaring, turbulent fog. The deathly ash on his face grew even paler, and a sudden flash of struggle and hesitation flickered across his vacant eyes, causing his advancing steps to pause and falter.

"Move, do not stop, keep going!"

"I gathered the calamities of thousands of lives solely for this chance to escape the shackles of the mortal realm."

"My people have waited for billions of years; we will wait no longer, never again!"

The hazy black shadow grew even more indistinct, and the gentle, alluring voice carried a hint of weakness, yet it repeated over and over in the man's ear with bone-deep resentment and obsession. She seemed to be enduring immense agony as well, but her will and spirit remained stubbornly lucid.

Hearing her pain-ridden words steeped in profound obsession, the struggle and hesitation on Li Guifan's face faded and dissolved into nothingness before he even knew it, and his forward steps resumed their stability and original pace.

Amidst the roaring, vast, and lightless fog, carrying the ghost that possessed him, he walked toward the sunlit, azure sea and sky ahead.

Afterward, he crossed the vast oceans and stepped into the human realm.

Descending alongside him was an endless tide of calamities.

Another village consumed by ghost fires; the towering spectral flames still blazed fiercely within the settlement, casting a layer of pale blue over the pitch-black night.

Every living creature in the village had already been reduced to charred, humanoid figures within the ghost fires. The spectral flames burned and spread in silence, and the entire village, which moments ago resembled a terrifying purgatory, suddenly plunged into utter stillness.

At the center of the village, Li Guifan—his complexion still bearing an unnatural pale cyan tint—stood beneath an unburned apricot tree that still bore dazzling red blossoms in the dark night.

"Thousands of human lives."

"Can only let a fraction of you step out of the mist. Even a few thousand more would merely lessen the restrictions upon you a little."

Li Guifan gazed at the red apricot tree ahead, his voice stiff and mechanical. Then, he lowered his head to look at his shadow on the ground. That shadow possessed a graceful and beautiful figure, with rivers of extremely long, soft, dark hair cascading down.

"What? Are you feeling remorse and regret already?"

That alluring voice echoed all around with a hint of mockery and chill, brimming with ghostly dread.

"This is nothing. To liberate all of my people, the entire macrocosm must be dragged together into the Era of Calamity. That will be far more than just the extinction of several thousand or tens of thousands of lives."

"No."

Li Guifan gazed blankly and intently at the beautiful, enchanting shadow on the ground, speaking slowly.

"I am merely worried about when I will get to see the complete you. Merely worried that this will be too difficult, and that you will be too tired."

That alluring voice suddenly fell silent.

He raised his head, reached out toward the red apricot tree, plucked a glowing red blossom blooming in the dark night from the last remaining beauty of these ruins, and tucked the flower into his own hair.

Lowering his head, he saw the shadow of that flower appear in the hair of the beautiful shadow on the ground as well, and asked softly.

"How is it? Do you like it?"

The moment his words fell, there was a fleeting, near-death silence all around. Then, with a loud "boom," virtually all the burning ghost fires throughout the entire village surged madly toward the apricot tree simultaneously.

That apricot tree was reduced to ashes almost instantly beneath the frenzied flames. The searing, blistering wave of fire forced Li Guifan, despite his rigid and lifeless expression, to take two steps back. He simply retreated like a child who had done something wrong without knowing what, terrified yet daring not to fight back or block, letting the ghost fires splashing before his eyes scorch him.

"I'm sorry. I merely thought you kept this red apricot tree because you liked it."

"I'm sorry."

Within his hoarse, stiff throat, he repeated those panicked words of apology over and over again.

Following the deafening roar and waves of fire, scattered pale blue flames drifted down one by one from the pitch-black sky, flashing with a faint, flickering light, resembling souls tumbling into the eternal night of the River of Oblivion.

"Heh, liked? You—a living corpse whose mind has been usurped, a dog, something far inferior even to a dog—what do you know of liking?"

That voice, which had previously been consistently alluring, rang out slowly amidst the pitch-black night rain and pale blue ghost fires, carrying a biting chill akin to grinding teeth and sucking blood.

"Hahahaha, what does someone whose very preferences are controlled know of liking?"

That voice, tinged with a hint of wretchedness and lingering grievance, grew somewhat frantic toward the end, laced with... a faint, lingering self-pity.

"Let's go. I have caught the trail of that person."

After the wild laughter, the voice slowly recovered its former calmness, issuing a faint command.

Li Guifan stiffened as he turned his head, looking toward a direction in the south. He lifted his rigid stride and walked forward step by step, gradually drifting away.

Across these ruins, now completely transformed into scorched earth, those drifting ghost fires extinguished silently one after another in the dark night. When the very last ghost fire died out, its light flickered brightly for a single instant, illuminating a dazzlingly blooming red flower right beside the spectral flame...

...

In a small city in the north, within a filthy and foul-smelling alley, a man with a gloomy expression suddenly raised his head to look south as well, murmuring to himself.

"Why is it you?"

"I said I would take your life."

"Yet I owe you my life."

"And now, someone else wants me to take your life."

"Should I kill you, or should I kill you?"

The grim-faced man lowered his head to gaze at the sewage-streaked ground, speaking in a low voice.

"I am going to catch you."

...

In the even more distant city of Yangjing, within a lavish and glittering banquet hall, a grand feast was underway with joyous faces passing goblets and exchanging toasts in harmonious merriment. A refined gentleman of scholarly bearing, with a long sword in a white jade scabbard hung at his waist, moved gracefully among the people offering flattery and praise, conversing softly and occasionally flashing a cultured, gentle smile that made everyone feel as though bathed in a spring breeze. Suddenly, a servant hurried up from downstairs and handed him a piece of jade pendant.

While continuing to chat and laugh with the crowd, he accepted the pendant and sensed it inwardly. The upward curve of his already smiling lips grew sharper and higher.

"Although Young Master Tang possesses supreme swordsmanship and is a renowned sword cultivator—no, a sword immortal—he is filled with benevolence and righteousness. The sword in his scabbard rarely leaves it, and even when it is drawn, it never takes a life."

"In today's world of immortal cultivation, it is safe to say there is no one else who upholds the ancient Dao of benevolence and righteousness quite like Young Master Tang!"

A guest at the banquet praised aloud, his face flushed with radiance as if sharing in the glory.

Some guests at the table were hearing such words about such a remarkable person for the very first time, and they hurriedly sought verification from those around them. Meanwhile, those who had heard it before gladly and enthusiastically recounted the tale to the uninitiated, confirming the truth of what they had just heard.

The very next moment, even more flattery and admiration were heaped upon the refined gentleman bearing the white jade-scabbarded sword. Yet the young master did not grow arrogant; he merely kept a modest smile, offered a few words of self-deprecation, and smoothly steered the flattering remarks toward another topic with courteous words.

The atmosphere in the hall grew even warmer and more harmonious. Yet, unaware to anyone, the refined gentleman had all the while been gazing toward the distant south, smiling as he stroked the patterns on his sword scabbard with his left hand, and thought with a faint, gentle smile in his heart.

"Caught you."

...

Hiding in his room, having calculated for two days and two nights, Ye Mingke pulled his head out from a mountain of manuscript papers with bleedy, dazed eyes, and with a "bang" even knocked over a towering stack of manuscript papers covered in tiny characters nearby.

"Whoosh."

Lingchen, who had been resting on another stack of manuscripts while covered by a blank sheet of paper, was instantly startled awake by the loud crash. Seeing the collapse of the manuscripts—which to him resembled a tall building—he immediately raised his hands above his head to prove his innocence.

"Sir, this time you really knocked it over yourself, it has absolutely nothing to do with me!"

Immortal Lingchen reached out to mold a pitiful expression on his face, wailing miserably in a raw voice.

During these past few days, he had not ceased interfering with Ye Mingke, whether truly or falsely, and had been dragged off by the dizzy and irritable Ye Mingke to be pranked and tortured as a way to relieve stress.

Yet this time, upon seeing the disarranged manuscripts, Ye Mingke did not show the worry and irritation he had displayed in the past. Instead, he directly pushed the remaining manuscripts aside as well.

A smug smile appeared on his face as he magnanimously waved a hand at Immortal Lingchen and said.

"Don't be afraid, Milord has already figured it out."