Chapter 1467: Ghost Art
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Chapter 1465: Ghost Art
Under the pitch-black night sky and the blood moon.
Old Rich Zhou walked step by step, wearing the straw sandals of the dead.
Ordinary people could not see Old Rich Zhou’s Ghost Body; they could only see a pair of straw sandals pasted with white paper, heavy with Yin Qi, alternately stepping forward on the ground.
Ghostly Divine Sense Thoughts are formless, covering a thousand miles in a day.
Old Rich Zhou’s footsteps seemed slow, yet they traversed mountains and land with astonishing speed.
Moreover, guided by the Blood Thread Rope, the surrounding scenery constantly shifted—wilderness, mountains, villages, and main roads flashed by in succession.
In less than half an hour, Old Rich Zhou had arrived before Houtu City.
Old Rich Zhou wanted to enter Houtu City, but its ghostly form collided against the city wall for a long time, as if blocked by an invisible force, unable to pass through.
In Little Zhōu Village, inside Old Rich Zhou’s tomb.
Zhōu jǐn spat out blood, his gaze icy, murmuring, “The City God Boundary, is it?”
He dipped his finger in the blood and drew something on the ground.
Simultaneously, on the ground where Old Rich Zhou stood, white bones grew, forming a bridge.
The blood thread guided the way, and white bones formed bridges. Whenever an impassable obstacle was encountered, the white bones would create a bridge to ‘Ferry Over’ the ghost.
Old Rich Zhou, wearing the Dead Man’s Shoes, stepped onto the White Bone Bridge. In an instant, he leaped over the city wall and passed into Houtu City.
Zhōu jǐn spat out another mouthful of blood, his face pale, yet his expression showed no pain. Instead, he smiled bitterly and said: “Soon.”
Meanwhile, in Houtu City.
The Blood Thread rose again. Having crossed the City God Boundary via the White Bone Bridge and entered Houtu City, “Old Rich Zhou,” whose eyes were only whites, rolled them as if drawn by something, almost instinctively following the Blood Thread forward.
Perhaps because it was nearing the bloodline of its closest kin.
The originally dull, puppet-like Old Rich Zhou seemed to gain a trace of vitality, its face becoming somewhat more animated.
“My… descendants.”
Old Rich Zhou took a step forward, the straw sandals making a strange sound as they touched the ground.
As if sensing the call of blood, Old Rich Zhou’s footsteps grew faster and faster.
Under the quiet night sky, on the empty street, a pair of straw sandals walked forward eerily, emitting a chilling sound.
But because it was night, the streets were deserted, and the straw sandals blended with the Earth Qi, no one noticed.
After an unknown length of time and countless winding alleys, Old Rich Zhou finally arrived at the west city, before a large mansion.
The gate towered high, lanterns hung prominently, exuding grandeur and opulence.
Located in the outer west city, the land price here was not as high, but such a large mansion was clearly still costly.
However, at this moment, the plaque before the mansion read “Wu Residence,” with not a single “Zhou” character in sight.
Old Rich Zhou stood before the nameplate, dazed for a long time.
Though its humanity was extinguished and its Divine-Sense fragmented, it still retained shards of memory; ancestral tablets and family surnames were not forgotten.
It thought it had found the wrong household, but the blood thread could not be wrong, nor could the sensation of bloodline.
Just then, a burst of cheerful laughter and conversation came from within the “Wu Residence.”
These sounds emanating from living people, the joy within their living Divine-Sense, stirred Old Rich Zhou’s instincts.
It passed through the gate and entered the mansion.
Inside the mansion, the aura of living people was everywhere. That feeling of connected bloodline grew increasingly intense.
Old Rich Zhou seemed to have come back to life, as if he had returned to his days before death—his sons filial, grandchildren gathered around his knees, the whole family dressed in fine silks and feasting on delicacies, all gathered around him in joyful harmony.
This was an intensely vivid sensation of ‘being alive.’
Old Rich Zhou’s breathing grew somewhat rapid, and a glimmer of ‘humanity‘ began to flicker in his eyes.
Even though his breath was Yin Qi and his entire body was that of a ghost.
The liveliest place was the main hall, which was also where the pull of bloodline resonance felt strongest.
Old Rich Zhou thus made his way toward the hall. His Ghost Body passed through the gate, and a wave of Yin-cold energy spread throughout the surroundings.
However, at that moment, a banquet was being held in the hall, with cups clinking and toasts flowing, the air thick with human energy, the scent of wine, and warmth.
The Yin-cold Ghost Qi, upon entering the hall, was immediately dispersed.
Inside the hall, the crowd continued to feast merrily, with delicacies covering the tables and fine wine abundant.
Old Rich Zhou looked up and saw a Golden Core Cultivator seated at the head of the table. This man wore a beard, was dressed in fine robes, his eyes sharp and his demeanor dignified.
Though his appearance and bearing had changed, Old Rich Zhou could recognize him, this was the eldest son he had once placed the highest hopes in.
Old Rich Zhou had devoted his entire life’s efforts to nurturing this eldest son.
Before his death, he had entrusted all his plans to this eldest son.
In this way, after his death, buried in a desolate mountain, he had absorbed the fortune of an entire village, allowing his children and grandchildren to enjoy blessings.
Now, seeing this beloved son had indeed lived up to his expectations, becoming a respected and virtuous Golden Core Cultivator.
His descendants and relatives enjoyed wealth and honor, thriving and prospering.
Even as a ghost, Old Rich Zhou instinctively felt deeply gratified.
Watching his beloved son seated at the head of the table, speaking eloquently to the crowd, embodying the image of a “great patriarch.”
The group around him included both members of the Zhou family and other distinguished guests, all showing respectful deference to his son.
Old Rich Zhou felt immense pride.
Unable to restrain himself, he walked toward his eldest son. All these years buried underground, his greatest concern had been his son.
Step by step, Old Rich Zhou walked directly up to his eldest son. Gazing at his son, a trace of tenderness appeared on his pale, ghastly Ghost face.
Old Rich Zhou’s eldest son suddenly felt a chill, but looking around, he found nothing amiss. Assuming it was due to having drunk too much or a draft of cold air, he paid it little mind and soon immersed himself again in the flattery of the crowd.
The entire hall was chaotic and noisy, the guests muddled with drink, and no one noticed the sudden appearance of a pair of dead man’s straw sandals on the floor.
Old Rich Zhou stared fondly at his son, lost in joy.
But suddenly, someone raised a toast to his eldest son, saying, “Elder Wú… I offer you this cup.”
Elder Wú?
Why would my eldest son be surnamed “Wú”?
The joy in Old Rich Zhou’s heart faded slightly, and the tenderness in his eyes diminished further.
The eldest son of Old Rich Zhou, addressed as ‘Elder Wú,’ raised his cup with a smile and said: “Everyone… thank you all for honoring Wú with your presence. Let us share this drink together.”
The crowd raised their cups and drank together.
Then followed another round of flattery and praise.
During the banquet, Elder Wú said, “This time, it is all thanks to the clan head’s care. Otherwise, this branch of mine would not have the qualifications to engage in such business.”
A guest remarked, “Elder Wú, you are too modest. You also bear the surname Wú, isn’t the head of the Wú Clan also your clan head?”
Old Rich Zhou’s eldest son gladly accepted this notion but still replied humbly: “After all, I am an outsider.”
Someone then said solemnly, “Why would Elder Wú say such a thing? In these times, marrying into the wife’s family is not necessarily something disgraceful.”
Others chimed in, “In the end, a person must be judged by their own abilities. With strength, even if one marries into the wife’s family, no one would dare look down on them.”
“Exactly.”
“And speaking of it… marrying into the family is not your fault, Elder Wú. It is your background that does not match your capabilities!”
“Since that is the case, abandoning your origins and seeking a higher status to realize your talents and achieve great things, that is the wise approach.”
“That statement is mistaken and somewhat underestimates Elder Wú,” another guest interjected. “Elder Wú, though of humble origins, had already built a fortune from scratch through his own efforts before entering the Wú Clan. That is why he was chosen by the Wú Clan to marry their beloved daughter and attain his current prominent status.”
“He built his fortune from scratch?” the crowd exclaimed in amazement. “That is even more remarkable. In these times, starting from nothing is no easy feat.”
Old Rich Zhou’s eldest son waved his hand dismissively. “You all overpraise me.” Then he sighed: “There was no other way. I come from a poor background, and my father passed away early. It fell entirely on me to strive hard, just to support my younger siblings and secure a livelihood for my family.”
Upon hearing this, everyone sighed with sympathy, lamenting the hardships Elder Wú had endured.
Old Rich Zhou stood there in a daze.
Though he had become a ghost, he still remembered that before his death, he had handed over all the wealth accumulated over the years—through deception, robbery, and killing—his lifelong efforts and family assets, entirely to this eldest son of his.
Could this still be considered building a fortune from scratch?
Someone else asked Elder Wú, “Did your father leave you nothing?”
Elder Wú sighed. “It is shameful to say, but my father was merely an ordinary spirit farmer in his lifetime. Moreover… he was miserly, treated me harshly, and never supported me in the slightest. If not for such unfortunate origins and having such a father, the first half of my life would likely not have been so arduous.”
The others nodded in agreement:
“A hero is not judged by their origins. Coming from humble beginnings is no disgrace; striving diligently is what makes a true man.”
“Now that all hardships have passed and brighter days have arrived, Elder Wú, you have leaped through the dragon’s gate. The hardships of the past need not be mentioned anymore, what is done is done.”
“Exactly. Now you are the esteemed son-in-law of the great Wú Clan of Kun Province. You bear the surname Wú, your Dao Companion bears the surname Wú, and your children and descendants will also bear the surname Wú. Your lineage will all be members of a great clan, truly a complete reversal of fate.”
“Congratulations, Elder Wú.”
Elder Wú smiled broadly, and many memories naturally faded away.
He forgot his origins, forgot that dilapidated little village, forgot that miserly old father.
It was as if he had always been a member of the Wú Clan, an elder of a prestigious and noble family.
Yet he remained completely unaware that at this very moment, his deceased old father stood right before him, a pair of bloodshot eyes fixed intently on him.
“I committed unspeakable evils and set up the Feng Shui Arrangement so that my sons and grandsons could enjoy prosperity.”
“So that the descendants of the Zhōu family could prosper.”
But his son changed his surname, abandoned his ancestors, and married into the wife’s family.
His eldest son became someone else’s son, someone else’s grandson, worshiping someone else’s ancestors.
The last trace of warmth lingering in Old Rich Zhou’s eyes began to fade.
His entire body trembled, the Ghost Qi turned violent, his face grew increasingly ferocious, fangs sprouted from the corners of his mouth, and the last shred of his humanity vanished completely.
Elder Wú, who had been toasting and celebrating like a winner in life, suddenly felt an inexplicable chill in his heart.
This chill even carried the lingering fear of years past.
For a moment, he even seemed to see his deceased old father standing right before him.
Elder Wú’s face began to pale.
But it was already too late. Old Rich Zhou, now transformed into a vengeful ghost, lunged at his eldest son, opened his bloody maw, and bit down on his head. Then, he began to suck voraciously, devouring his son’s Divine-Sense and savoring that familiar, paternal resonance.
At the same time, he reveled in the fragments of memories from his own lifetime that resided in his eldest son’s Sea of Consciousness.
This allowed Old Rich Zhou, now a vengeful ghost, to experience an instinctive pleasure akin to being alive.
But at the same time, Elder Wú—Old Rich Zhou’s eldest son—felt as if an invisible monster had clamped its jaws around his head.
Fangs pierced his Sea of Consciousness, and his Divine-Sense was sucked out like nourishment.
An excruciating pain, originating from the level of his Divine Soul, instantly flooded his entire skull.
Elder Wú’s face twisted drastically, his entire body turned ashen, and he couldn’t help but let out agonized roars, his appearance becoming terrifying and grotesque.
The other guests, witnessing this, were all shocked and horrified, unable to comprehend how Elder Wú—who had been joyfully hosting them just moments ago—could suddenly seem to have plunged into hell, displaying such a wretched state.
No one knew the reason, nor did anyone know how to save Elder Wú.
And the vengeful ghost claiming life was truly ferocious. Before long, Elder Wú—who had been perfectly fine just moments ago—collapsed slowly to the ground, his eyes bulging, his forehead dark and bluish, his features twisted in terror, and blood streaming from all seven orifices. He breathed his last.
The air instantly fell silent. Everyone was stunned, speechless with horror.
A guest stepped forward, checked Elder Wú’s breath, then gasped sharply and cried out in disbelief: “He’s… dead?!”
Elder Wú of the Wú Clan, a dignified Golden Core Cultivator, had died so tragically… for no apparent reason?!
A wave of terror instantly swept through the entire hall.
A clamor of shock erupted, interspersed with screams, and the hall descended into chaos.
Amid the confusion, someone with sharp eyes exclaimed in alarm, “Bloody footprints! What is that?”
But the hall was too chaotic, the cultivators too panicked and unsettled. His words only added to the fear.
By the time everyone regained their composure, the bloody footprints had vanished. All that remained in the hall was Elder Wú’s corpse—eyes bulging, blood streaming from all seven orifices.
His Divine Soul had been completely “eaten” by his old father’s vengeful ghost.
The guests were still shaken, but before long, another cry of terror was heard from the side hall on the right.
Everyone’s hearts trembled, unsure of what to do.
After the time it takes an incense stick to burn, two Golden Core Realm guests mustered their courage and went to investigate. They discovered that Second Master Wu of the Wu residence—Elder Wú’s younger brother—who had been cultivating, had also died with blood streaming from all seven orifices.
His manner of death was exactly the same as his elder brother, Elder Wú.
Everyone present paled at the sight, quickly thinking of another person.
“Third Master Wu.”
Meanwhile, in another side chamber.
The Third Master of the Wu residence—Elder Wu’s third brother, Old Rich Zhou’s third son—was locked in passionate embrace with a beautiful dancer.
By nature a libertine, he was most fond of women. While his eldest brother entertained guests, he had pulled aside a dancer who caught his eye, dragging her into the side chamber to indulge in carnal pleasures.
Amidst the rolling of pale flesh, as the Third Master of Wu diligently plowed, savoring the soul-melting ecstasy, he lifted his head and suddenly saw his father transformed into a vengeful ghost, those bloodshot eyes fixed upon him.
The Third Master of Wu shuddered, his lower half going cold with fright.
“I told you while I was alive not to lust after women.”
That familiar, hoarse, stern voice, tinged with the terror of the dead, began to echo in his ears: “Sleeping with women is for continuing the family line.”
“Now that you have abandoned your ancestors… whose lineage are you continuing? Whose family are you carrying on?”
These words, spoken by the vengeful ghost, were utterly sinister and severe.
The Third Master of Wu was horrified. “Father, I—”
But before he could say more, Old Rich Zhou pounced, gnawing at his head and devouring his Divine-Sense completely.
The dancer lay on the bed, smugly believing she had won the favor of the Third Master of Wú. Turning her head, she saw the face of a man with bulging eyes, a ghastly pallor, and blood streaming from all seven orifices in death. Her heart shattered, and she let out an even more terrified scream.
Similar screams of terror soon echoed one after another throughout the entire Wú residence.
In the darkness of night, the entire Wu residence seemed to transform into a Ghostly Land, with people dropping dead one after another.
Meanwhile, in the cemetery of Little Zhou Village.
Blood continuously flowed from Zhou Jin’s mouth.
Each time Old Rich Zhou’s ghost killed a relative, Zhou Jin suffered a Backlash, spitting out another mouthful of blood.
By now, Old Rich Zhou had killed six or seven relatives.
Zhou Jin had already lost more than half his blood, his entire body drenched and bloody, resembling a man of blood.
Yet he felt no pain. Instead, a gratified smile hung on his face.
“Kill.”
“Kill them all.”
“Kill.”
Zhou Jin coughed again, but this time, he couldn’t even cough up blood, it was nearly exhausted.
Simultaneously, under the sinister Backlash of Ghost Qi, Zhou Jin himself gradually showed signs of turning into a vengeful ghost.
This, too, was his retribution.
…
Translator Notes:
城隍 refers to the City God in Chinese folk religion—a deity who governs and protects a city, oversees local spirits, and often judges the dead within his jurisdiction.