Chapter 29: The Vengeful Spirit Reveals Its True Form

Goldie Kinsha and I advanced in the direction indicated by the compass, constantly laying false trails to mislead our pursuers.

As for the rats, we caught several rabbits, tied scraps of the clothes we wore onto them, and deliberately drove them off in several directions.

Goldie Kinsha then produced two Breath Concealing Talismans, temporarily masking our presence, so the rats would likely chase after those other paths.

Unfortunately, she possessed only these two talismans, each effective for five or six hours. When their power faded, the talisman paper would turn to ash.

Five or six hours should be enough to find a place; it couldn’t be far from Zhang Family Village.

During this time, we encountered two more pairs of Zhang family searchers. Each pair, trained militarily and intimately familiar with the terrain.

They all died.

Goldie Kinsha killed one; I killed three.

When I killed the last one, I felt no remorse—only exhilaration. Goldie Kinsha cast several strange glances my way.

“Terrifying adaptability. If you became emperor in ancient times, you’d kill until you stood alone,” she remarked.

I secretly warned myself, for I didn’t understand why killing seemed to become addictive, like a drug.

From what we pried out of them, our direction was correct; the entire Zhang clan had retreated to a place called Ghostshade Valley, which the compass pointed toward.

Winter days are brief. By the time we glimpsed Ghostshade Valley, darkness had almost fallen.

Just then, the two talismans crumbled to ash. With their protection gone, we could only do our best to tamp down our presence.

At the valley mouth stood the collapsed remnants of a military fortification—bunkers, tattered barbed wire, trenches, rusted ammunition boxes scattered everywhere.

The snow at the entrance bore numerous footprints, uncovered by wind or snow, proof that many had recently entered.

“No vital energy, there should be no one nearby. Let’s go!” I whispered, and Goldie Kinsha and I slipped into the valley like agile cats.

Inside, something felt off. I checked my compass—the magnetic field was no longer disturbed.

I quickly calculated, closed my eyes to recall the terrain we’d passed, and when I opened them again, my expression was grave.

“What’s that look for? What did you figure out?” Goldie Kinsha pressed.

“Have you ever heard of the Seven Killing Formation in feng shui?” I asked.

“I don’t know feng shui. Just tell me the consequences,” she replied.

The Killing Qi divides into three main aspects: Heaven, Earth, and Man. Heaven is yang, Earth is yin; yang is fire, Earth is water, and Man occupies the central palace, harmonizing the six directions.

Thus, using these three as a base, theoretically, you can build a layered Seven Killing Formation.

In practice, though, the conditions are too harsh—no mortal could truly arrange a Seven Killing Formation.

Yet my calculations revealed this valley covertly aligns with five of the Seven Killings. The Zhang clan, who just entered, shifted it into six, lacking only Heaven’s Killing to complete the formation.

Goldie Kinsha understood and asked, “What happens if the Seven Killing Formation forms?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. The feng shui chapter in Grand Netherworld Yin-Yang Arts I’d only skimmed; even with this conclusion, I didn’t truly believe it. Heaven’s Killing is elusive, described in yin-yang arts as Heaven’s wrath.

Heaven’s wrath? Meteors striking Earth? Lightning and thunder? At least lightning is unlikely—winter never brings it. Meteors? Even less likely—a once-in-a-million-years event.

Just then, Goldie Kinsha suddenly drew her Azure Phoenix blade and plunged it into the valley floor.

When she withdrew it, the blade brought up the corpse of a rat.

I narrowed my eyes. “Looks like we’re about to be exposed—let’s go investigate.”

---

Deep in Ghostshade Valley stood a great furnace, built for burning corpses.

According to Wu Mountain’s local chronicles, eighty years ago the Zhang ancestors discovered this warlord base, where bioweapon viruses were being manufactured.

The Zhang ancestor risked his life to infiltrate and destroy the deadly virus. The result: the virus spread, and the Zhang ancestor, the warlord, and over a thousand of his soldiers perished miserably.

To prevent further spread, the locals built this crematorium. Over a thousand bodies burned for seven days and nights before turning to ash.

Now, Elder Zhang Xiao, cane in one hand and blank spirit tablet in the other, arrived before the crematorium.

He looked back; three of his most trusted kin stood behind him, fully armed and guarding his rear.

He found a mechanism beside the furnace, pressed it, entered the corpse chute, and discovered a tunnel entrance. Carrying the blank spirit tablet, he descended.

Below was a circular chamber, a hundred meters across. Looking down, it was clearly a giant Eight Trigrams diagram.

Zhang Xiao was about to place the spirit tablet in the central depression, when a sharp cry rang out—a short-haired woman leaped from the stairway above, Azure Phoenix blade slicing straight for Zhang Xiao’s head.

Goldie Kinsha, deep inside, still hesitated; her strike held back, intending to press the blade to Zhang Xiao’s neck.

But suddenly, Zhang Xiao’s cane whipped up like lightning, jabbing Goldie Kinsha’s abdomen.

Her face went instantly pale, doubled over in pain.

Then Zhang Xiao twisted the cane’s handle, drawing a sword from within—no sign of age remained.

“Heaven’s gate open, you refuse to enter; hell’s door shut, you barge in!” Zhang Xiao snarled, slashing cold light toward Goldie Kinsha’s throat.

Bang!

A gunshot rang out. Zhang Xiao’s movements halted. He slowly lifted his head, seeing me blow the smoke from my gun barrel, a bloody hole in his chest.

Zhang Xiao collapsed, his finger brushing the spirit tablet just as he fell—the tablet slid perfectly into the central depression.

On his lips remained a strange, eternal smile.

“Are you alright?” I jumped down, helping Goldie Kinsha, who was sweating coldly.

She recovered, nearly slapping herself—her master had warned her: once your resolve is set, never hesitate.

She knew this old man had committed unspeakable crimes, yet seeing his deeply wrinkled face, she faltered.

“Didn’t you kill your first man at twelve? Aren’t you a proud child of the Lunar Clan? Afraid to kill an old man?” I mocked, seeing her gloom.

As expected, Goldie Kinsha sprang up, fighting cock-like and full of vigor, grabbing my collar, furious. “Say that again! Insult me if you must, but never insult the Lunar Clan!”

I blinked at her, silent.

She quickly realized I’d provoked her on purpose, to pull her out of self-doubt.

She released me, straightened my shirt, then looked to Zhang Xiao’s corpse.

“Why do you think he smiled as he died?” she asked.

I circled the body, crouched, and looked from Zhang Xiao’s final angle.

He was staring at the spirit tablet. Wait—the tablet’s base fit exactly into the central depression of the Eight Trigrams diagram.

No!

I lunged forward, kicking at the tablet.

---

A dull thud. It was like kicking a wall; the tablet didn’t budge.

At that moment, the crematorium entrance slammed shut.

Darkness engulfed us. Even channeling my energy to my eyes, I saw nothing.

Simultaneously, I felt a sudden chill, icy wind surging, cold creeping up to my skull.

Danger! A fierce sense of peril surrounded me.

Suddenly, Goldie Kinsha grabbed my sleeve.

“Scared?” I asked.

“A bit,” her voice replied—from my other side.

I was startled. I stabbed wildly with my Soul Extinguishing Needle.

“Qin Feng, are you mad?” Goldie Kinsha snapped.

I froze. How could this be? Had I lost the ability to distinguish human from ghost?

No—it was a spell.

I shivered, mentally focused on the Soul Calming Seal.

In an instant, it was as if someone pulled me from a membrane; my senses returned, sweat pouring.

Goldie Kinsha stood before me, holding a Moonstone in one hand, Azure Phoenix blade in the other.

The spirit tablet was now covered in blood-red lines, flowing as if alive.

Suddenly, a ghost in yellow military uniform emerged from the tablet, standing brazenly before us, grinning coldly.

Goldie Kinsha and I paled together—this was a real vengeful ghost.

We exchanged glances and, in perfect sync, attacked from both sides.

Bang, bang!

An eerie wind swept in, and I was thrown by a strange force; Goldie Kinsha as well.

Then Goldie Kinsha produced a stack of talismans, channeling her power, scattering them like a shower toward the ghost.

Boom!

I barely had time to warn her—the explosion’s shockwave hurled me again. In the sealed chamber, the blast was deafening, blood trickling from my ears, a moment of piercing tinnitus splitting my head before it faded.

Goldie Kinsha was equally disheveled. She looked at the ghost, which was now enveloped in a greenish glow, utterly unharmed.

She gritted her teeth, blade ready, about to attack again.

“Old Gold, come here,” I called.

She abandoned her assault, came to me, and muttered, “My surname is Goldie.”

“Save your breath, forget the names. This is an Eight Trigrams Yin formation—no Yang array. It empowers spirits, suppresses the living, and this ghost has endless resentment to fuel it,” I sighed.

The military ghost cackled, seeming to admire us. “Sharp eyes. If I were alive, I’d take you as my apprentice.”