After Yao Ranran and the other three left, the courtyard suddenly dimmed, as if swallowed by a black beast.
The elder Yang stood in the shadowy room and let out a long sigh. "What a good girl… gone, just like that."
Inside the shrine rested a statue of a True Buddha. Yang elder bowed with devout reverence, then gathered his withered hands into his sleeves and shuffled toward the rear courtyard. There he pushed a creaking wheelbarrow, his stooped back swaying as he lifted a section of stone slab, revealing a long, narrow passage descending into pitch blackness.
Creak. Creak.
With eyes murky like dead fish, Yang elder pushed the wheelbarrow steadily, vanishing into the darkness.
…
Stones trembled. Rootless flames circled in the dark, casting ghostly light across Yao Ranran's jade-white face.
"Has anyone ever told you… villains shouldn't talk so much?"
Her voice was soft, almost gentle.
Yan Shanyi could not answer.
Blood gushed from his throat, spilling in purple, blue, then inky black streams. It splattered onto the altar, searing through the massive serpent-like vines, burning out puddles of thick green ichor.
His bulging eyes strained from their sockets. His crimson tongue split into two, trembling as it pointed toward the darkness ahead. From the gloom, clusters of shadowy mist flickered, each one stabbing fear into his heart like countless needles.
"No… no…"
Yan Shanyi tried to pull back his tongue, but he could no longer feel his body.
He had chosen the weakest girl as his prey. So why was he the one dying?
He did not understand. He was afraid.
He recalled the moment she struck: a radiance soft and clear, like a stream of spring water flowing past. And just like that, his neck had been severed…
Could this woman be no mortal, but a celestial maiden fallen from the Ninth Heaven?
Otherwise, how could she, in a mortal's body, resist the corruption of an evil entity, and unleash a killing strike so swift it defied humanity?
Creak. Creak.
The muffled sound of a wheelbarrow echoed from all directions.
Yao Ranran's brows drew together slightly as she glanced around.
The broken altar quivered once more. Like bamboo shoots piercing through the earth, darkness surged upward, carrying with it a hollow, desolate sigh.
"Is he dead?"
"He is dead."
"Then all is well…"
Creak. Creak.
Elder Yang emerged from the darkness, pushing his ancient wheelbarrow—yet only now did he realize something was wrong.
Why had the voice been that of a woman?
He lifted his crooked head. His cloudy eyes met a pair of calm, luminous ones.
For a heartbeat, the air froze.
Yao Ranran broke the silence. "Grandpa Yang, what are you doing here?"
One of Elder Yang's eyes shifted askew, and within it was reflected a ghastly corpse.
From Yan Shanyi's body, writhing corruption tore outward—fish scales, black hair, and wriggling flesh churning together into grotesque pulp.
The evil spirit had burrowed into him.
The one who died was Yan Shanyi.
Elder Yanh could swear he had never moved so fast in his life.
The stench of death struck him like lightning. He dared not answer her, spinning instead to hurl himself back toward the dark tunnel, wheelbarrow rattling behind him.
A trace of loss flickered through Yao Ranran's gaze. The once-beautiful Yan fortress was nothing more than a bubble, destined to vanish.
The Nine Lotus Ring slid once more into her hand. Her expression remained serene, her bearing touched with quiet holiness.
A chill surged across Elder Yang's back. Though no sword was drawn, though her aura was gentle as a spring breeze, terror shook his very soul.
White light bloomed behind him. Nine azure lotuses unfurled in the air, each delicate petal cradling lethal intent.
Elder Yang did not hesitate. He knew this was a strike he could never withstand. He swallowed a pill in haste. His hunched figure flickered like lightning, shrinking space with a step, abandoning the wheelbarrow as he fled in desperation.
The nine lotuses chased close behind.
As if facing his greatest calamity, his messy beard was shredded against the stone walls as he bolted. His eyes grew sharp with resolve—without using that technique, he was doomed.
He roared, "Master, save me!"
The cry dragged long, echoing through the tunnel.
Suddenly, limp vines stirred. A pair of dark boots pressed down upon them. The monstrous tendrils withered instantly, lifeless, unable to struggle.
The passage changed.
Interwoven black vines stretched like a woven net, ensnaring the nine rushing lotuses.
In that instant, Elder Yang swallowed another strange pill. His figure vanished.
The moment was lost. The Nine Lotus Ring circled back, and the tunnel sealed shut.
Yao Ranran watched the darkness close, the last few tendrils shrinking underground, leaving behind only broken stumps dripping with green ichor.
The altar rumbled.
From its center rose a clay Buddha statue. Yan Shanyi's corpse happened to fall directly upon it.
The body landed atop the Buddha's head. Its once-kind eyes turned scarlet, crimson tears trickling down its cheeks.
The corners of its mouth curved upward in a grotesque smile.
The altar rose, carrying Yao Ranran upward. The ghostly fire sank back into the pillars.
A thunderclap shook the skies.
Lightning struck the statue. Yan Shanyi's twisted corpse looked as if devoured by a monstrous beast, while the Buddha's bloodstained smile resembled a hellish demon satiated after its feast.
Clarity returned to the eyes of those present. What they saw on the altar froze their hearts. Terror drove them all to their knees.
This Buddha was no Buddha, but the most dreadful evil made manifest.
"Do not be afraid. I have fulfilled Lord Yan's final wish."
The voice rang clear and gentle. Everyone turned in shock toward the woman standing beside the towering statue.
Yao Ranran's violet robes fluttered. Her brows and eyes glimmered like moonlight across mortal dust, flawless and pure.
The grotesque, corrupted corpse writhing with worms made her refined beauty seem all the more unearthly. In that contrast, the crowd found a shred of solace, their minds gradually steadying.
How could Yan Shanyi be dead?
That was everyone's first thought as awareness returned.
"Lord Yan asked this of me before he passed, and I have done it. He sacrificed his body to nourish the spirit. The evil has been sealed within him. I have been freed, yet must now take up the mantle of this grand ritual… and the lordship of Yan fortress."
Her gaze swept across the gathered faces, calm and clear as still water.
She read every flicker of expression with ease.
Back when she first joined Yan fortress, the promised reward of five hundred thousand spirit stones had yet to be delivered. Without doubt, Yan Shanyi had hidden his treasures at home.
In the Eastern Wilderness secret realm, Shu Xi Palace had yielded nothing because she was too slow. This time, she would openly move into Yan Shanyi's residence and claim what was rightfully hers.
"Then… the one who died was Lord Yan?" Auntie Li asked with a trembling smile.
Yao Ranran lowered her head in sorrow. "Before he passed, Lord Yan chose me. The rites cannot be delayed. Everyone, lift your incense and kneel in worship."
Suddenly, white motes of light descended upon Yao Ranran. Curious, she brushed one aside, only to watch it melt playfully into her body.
This light… it was the same as that she encountered on Gu Ling Mountain!
She lifted her gaze.
The Yan clansmen all knelt, incense in hand, eyes full of trust. Even the loose cultivators hesitated little, following the Yan family's lead as they bowed together.
From the heavens, countless points of light began to gather.