Night had once again fallen over Jing'an City, draping the bustling metropolis in darkness. The streets were quieter than usual, but the city's neon lights flickered insistently, casting fractured reflections on the wet asphalt. Li Tianyuan, exhausted after a late shift, carried his takeout and boarded the last bus, Route 23. The vehicle creaked under his weight, empty except for a few scattered passengers: a student wearing headphones, lost in music; a woman cradling a restless infant; and a middle-aged man sitting in the front, face lined with fatigue and worry. The flickering lights overhead, accompanied by the low hum of the engine, lent the bus an unsettling, almost otherworldly atmosphere.
Li Tianyuan slumped into a seat near the middle, trying to close his eyes and steal a moment of rest. Yet the city outside the window refused him peace. Something unnatural made him jerk upright.
The familiar skyline of Jing'an had vanished. In its place stretched a black, desolate wasteland. Dry grass swayed eerily in the night wind, and through the dim haze, the silhouette of a crumbling temple loomed, its roof sagging and walls pockmarked with age.
"This… this isn't right. This should be downtown!" he muttered under his breath, cold sweat suddenly breaking across his forehead.
The other passengers remained oblivious, heads bowed, lost in their own worlds. Only the baby cried, piercing the quiet with sharp, frantic wails, as though reacting to something unseen. Li Tianyuan's stomach churned; a gnawing fear crawled up his spine.
The bus rumbled on. Then, suddenly, the lights cut out. Darkness swallowed the cabin.
"What the hell?!" the driver yelled, slamming his hands on the brakes. The bus shuddered violently, swaying from side to side. Outside, the night sky seemed to stretch like a gaping maw, as if the darkness itself were reaching to devour everything.
A cold, unnatural chill slithered through the bus. Li Tianyuan spun his head toward the back—and froze.
In the last row, a figure had appeared.
The person wore a tattered long robe. Their face was deathly pale, eyes cloudy, and hands clutched the edge of the seat with fingernails black as ink. The bus swayed violently, and the figure's head rotated slowly, unnaturally, bending at impossible angles until its gaze met Li Tianyuan's.
"…A corpse demon," he breathed, the words involuntarily escaping him. It was as if some hidden memory encoded in his blood had been triggered, awakening a deep, primal recognition.
The figure let out a low, guttural roar. Black, fetid mist spewed from its mouth, filling the cabin with a nauseating stench. The student's headphones fell silently to the floor, unnoticed. The woman holding the baby stared blankly, paralyzed as if stripped of all awareness. Only Li Tianyuan could perceive the horror before him.
The corpse demon moved closer, step by step. His legs went weak, and his body froze in place.
Then, just as the creature lunged, a talisman appeared on its forehead with a sharp snap. Flames erupted, briefly illuminating the bus, and the demon let out a shrill, ear-piercing scream before dissipating into a wisp of black smoke.
Li Tianyuan sank to the floor, chest heaving, drenched in cold sweat.
At that moment, the bus doors opened with a soft creak. A familiar figure stood in the doorway—wide sleeves billowing in the wind, white hair catching the dim light. The Taoist from the street corner last night, Fuyuan, had returned.
"Looks like you really can see them," Fuyuan said, his voice calm yet edged with concern. "Truly, you are a person bound by fate."
Li Tianyuan gasped, still shaken. "Y-you… you knew this would happen?"
Fuyuan sighed deeply. "The spiritual energy has already loosened. The seal is failing. Corpse demons, malevolent spirits, and otherworldly creatures will return one by one. I just did not expect that the first to be targeted would be you."
He pulled an ancient bronze coin from his sleeve and pressed it into Li Tianyuan's hand. The metal was warm, vibrating subtly, as if it contained its own heartbeat.
"This is a Soul-Calming Coin, a legacy of my Maoshan lineage," Fuyuan explained. "It can protect you through death three times. But understand this: protection is temporary, not eternal. If you do not learn to master spiritual energy, you will perish in the coming catastrophe."
Li Tianyuan's hand burned where he held the coin, heat coursing through his veins as if awakening something long dormant. He wanted to reject it, to refuse the burden, yet no words came.
Fuyuan's gaze softened slightly, but the weight of his words remained. "The Hundred-Year Pact has been broken. Some are seeking the array's eyes in secret, others are searching for…the key person. Prepare yourself, Li Tianyuan. There is no turning back."
And then, like a gust of wind, he vanished.
The bus lights flickered back on, and the passengers blinked as if waking from a dream. The driver cursed under his breath and restarted the engine, and the bus continued its route as though nothing had happened.
Li Tianyuan remained seated, the bronze coin clutched tightly in his palm, heart pounding. From this night onward, his ordinary life was over.
Excerpt from Taoist's Recording
"When I was young, I descended from the mountains to slay a corpse demon. That thing should never have existed in the mortal world.Only in the gaps created by spiritual revival can they slip through.If you ever encounter them on a bus, subway, or in crowded streets… remember:What your eyes see may not be real, and what is real often refuses to be seen."
—End of Recording