Chapter 1468: Senior

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Chapter 1466: Senior

Refining vengeful ghosts and using them to harm others comes with a price.

Zhōu Jǐn was well aware of this, but he no longer cared.

Life and death were things he had long cast aside; the physical body was merely a shell.

Once the entire ritual began, given his level of attainment, it was already irreversible.

He knew his own fate.

All he hoped for now was to make Old Rich Zhou pay in blood for his debts and receive the retribution he deserved.

In this world, some people’s wealth and status are built upon the deaths, suffering, and despair of others.

One day, this ill-gotten wealth must inevitably transform into death, suffering, and despair.

This is the iron law of cause and effect in this world.

Meanwhile, the Wu residence had already become a living hell.

Old Rich Zhou, transformed into a vengeful ghost, had fully awakened its ferocious nature. The more it consumed, the stronger and more vicious it became.

Throughout the Wu estate, people were constantly found with twisted features, dying sudden, violent deaths, yet no one knew the cause.

Despair shattered reason, and the entire Wu residence was plunged into a cacophony of wretched screams and wails.

The cold moonlight shone down, even seeming tinged with blood.

The terror and despair of the crowd became “nourishment” for Old Rich Zhou, further strengthening his Ghost Body.

Old Rich Zhou fed even more voraciously.

By now, he had already killed all of his children’s generation.

He had also devoured all of their Divine Souls.

Having consumed one generation, the next one naturally followed.

The next generation was Old Rich Zhou’s grandchildren.

Many of Old Rich Zhou’s grandchildren were either youths or infants still in swaddling clothes.

Amidst the panicked chaos, Old Rich Zhou passed through a doorway and entered a room.

Inside the room was a cradle. Within the cradle lay swaddling clothes, and within those swaddling clothes was a newborn infant.

Newborn infants possess pure Innate Primordial Qi. As if sensing some terrifying ghostly presence, the baby felt a pervasive chill and was wailing loudly.

But the estate was in utter chaos, and its parents had already perished in Old Rich Zhou’s maw, leaving no one to care for it.

The infant could only cry.

This blood-related cry touched a sliver of compassion in Old Rich Zhou’s heart. That pure sound restored a tiny fragment of reason to the nearly frenzied ghost.

People often feel a special affection for their grandchildren. In life, Old Rich Zhou had loved his grandsons most and had longed for them the most.

This was his grandson.

This was his newborn grandson.

Even as a vengeful ghost, Old Rich Zhou paused momentarily. His ferocious face contorted, a mixture of gentleness and brutality flickering across it.

“I can’t eat this… this is my own flesh and blood.”

Old Rich Zhou’s inner being was also enduring indescribable agony and torment.

It wasn’t until Old Rich Zhou saw the name on the infant’s swaddling clothes that this struggle subsided.

This grandson’s name was: Wú Youwéi.

Yes, surnamed Wu.

These grandchildren all bore the surname “Wu.” Not a single one was his true grandson; they were all cheap bastards belonging to others.

Old Rich Zhou, now a vengeful ghost, wore a savage expression, but his gaze was terrifyingly cold.

At this moment, he finally faced reality and abandoned his last shred of hope.

There was not a single relative left for him in this world. He could now fully become a “vengeful ghost.”

Black mist seeped from its body, thick with Yin Baleful Qi.

Old Rich Zhou hesitated no longer, opening his gaping maw to devour the infant in its swaddling clothes. The baby’s terrified cries grew even more piercing. Just as Old Rich Zhou’s ferocious ghostly jaws were about to swallow the child whole, the blood threads before him suddenly snapped. The White Bone Bridge cracked apart. The dead man’s straw sandals began to burn.

With the ritual’s medium destroyed, Old Rich Zhou abruptly froze in place.

At the same time, in the cemetery of Little Zhou Village. Zhōu jǐn also stared in astonishment, for before him suddenly appeared a line of text: “Harm shall not extend to three generations. Cease now.”

The characters were crooked and slanted, as if pieced together from Formation Patterns. Zhōu jǐn had no idea when they had suddenly coalesced into form.

Yet he did not seem surprised, his blood-smeared face only filled with desolation and a bitter smile: “At this point… how could I possibly stop?”

“How… could I ever stop?”

Ignoring this warning, Zhōu jǐn forcibly activated the Curse-Incantation Script, hastening the vengeful ghost’s devouring progress, compelling Old Rich Zhou to consume his own descendants across three generations entirely.

But the moment his rebellious intent arose, the text formed from the Formation Patterns suddenly glowed brightly.

Then, from beneath the ground, the aura of a Formation seemed to surge upward.

The Earth Qi grew turbid, spiritual power churned, thoroughly disrupting the blood-colored curse script. The blood basin overturned, spilling blood across the ground; the White Bone Bridge shattered; the straw sandals ignited without fire… and the connection with the vengeful ghost was completely severed.

Murky Soil Spiritual Disrupting Formation.

Zhōu jǐn’s painstakingly arranged “Ghost Control” ritual, crafted with immense effort, was thus utterly shattered.

A chill ran through Zhōu jǐn’s heart. He knew this must be a Formation, yet he had no idea what kind of mysterious formation it was. Nor who had laid down such a formation, or when.

But there was no time left for Zhōu jǐn to ponder further. With the Ghost Control ritual broken, Zhōu jǐn suffered a Backlash, coughing up several mouthfuls of blood. Though no more blood flowed, it felt as if he had coughed out his very heart and liver.

And even more terrifying, the Backlash began to intensify.

With the failure of Ghost Control, an even more dreadful Backlash had already manifested. Old Rich Zhou’s ghost, severed from the Blood Guide and deprived of the straw sandals, would be forcibly Repatriated back to its Ritual Site to demand payment from the one who controlled ghosts.

This was the balance of the Heavenly Dao.

Regardless of the reason, when you seek to harm others, you are destined to be harmed in turn.

Zhōu jǐn knew this well.

Thus, the moment he saw the ritual broken, he knew his own retribution was also at hand.

Zhōu jǐn wanted to flee, but his limbs simply would not move. He had lost too much blood and lacked the surplus Blood Qi to support his escape from the cemetery, to flee from the vengeful ghost seeking his life.

Moreover, from the very beginning, he had never intended to survive.

And so, he remained silently in place, watching as the surrounding Yin Qi dripped down like water, the blood growing increasingly viscous, and Old Rich Zhou’s corpse emanating a bone-chilling cold as if it were ice.

After a long while, or perhaps no time at all, when Zhōu jǐn focused his gaze again, he saw a bloody, hunched, Blue-Faced and Fanged terrifying figure appear before him.

Under normal circumstances, he could not see ghosts.

Of course, this was an exception. Because Zhōu jǐn knew he was about to die, that he would soon be devoured by Old Rich Zhou, and that he himself might even transform into some kind of Evil Ghost for violating his master’s teachings and disrupting the human way.

The vengeful ghost Old Rich Zhou, who had been forcibly repatriated before he could follow his nature and devour all three generations, stared at Zhou Jin before him, his murderous aura condensing into something tangible.

Zhou Jin gave a bitter smile.

He was no match for a vengeful ghost at all.

Especially since this Old Rich Zhou had recently consumed so many people.

Even if his master were here, he might not be a match for this vengeful ghost Old Rich Zhou.

And as far as Zhou Jin knew, among the major categories of Unorthodox Cultivators, those who could suppress or defeat a vengeful ghost at the same cultivation level were already considered peerless geniuses—such individuals could be counted on one hand.

Clearly, he was not one of them.

But Zhou Jin had no intention of waiting for death. He had a life-and-death grudge against this Old Rich Zhou and could not simply stand by and let himself be devoured, that would be a disgrace.

Zhou Jin slowly rose to his feet, drew his bronze sword, and pointed it directly at Old Rich Zhou.

Old Rich Zhou had just finished eating, his body brimming with the vast Power of the Ghost Dao, his Resentment deep and heavy, bloody and terrifying. His aura was gradually advancing toward an even stronger vengeful ghost state.

At this moment, Old Rich Zhou’s blood-red eyes were fixed intently on Zhou Jin, eager to devour him.

Zhou Jin’s bronze sword had inflicted pain on him before, and Old Rich Zhou naturally had not forgotten.

When enemies meet, a fierce battle is inevitable.

Amidst the swirling Yin wind, Old Rich Zhou had already opened his ghostly maw and lunged at Zhou Jin.

Zhou Jin channeled his energy into the bronze sword, thrusting it toward Old Rich Zhou, but the blade passed right through the ghost’s body, failing to harm him in the slightest.

Instead, Old Rich Zhou had already pounced in front of Zhou Jin, his massive fangs clamping down on Zhou Jin’s head.

In just one exchange, Zhou Jin was defeated.

His bronze sword simply could not harm a vengeful ghost of this level.

Meanwhile, Old Rich Zhou had effortlessly closed the distance and seized Zhou Jin’s Sea of Consciousness.

Zhou Jin smiled bitterly in despair.

“So this is… a vengeful ghost.”

Without facing one head-on, one could never truly understand the terror of such a ghostly being.

Indeed, those skilled at swimming often drown, those adept at riding often fall, and those who practice Ghost Control often die by the ghost’s maw.

How could one who constantly deals with such ferocious ghosts avoid a gruesome death?

Zhou Jin resigned himself to fate and closed his eyes. Yet, after a long wait, the pain he had anticipated never came.

Zhou Jin opened his eyes and found that the ‘Old Rich Zhou‘ before him seemed to have been struck by the Body-Immobilizing Art, frozen in place, its ferocious expression rigid and its bloodthirsty gaze beginning to scatter.

On its forehead, a faint golden light flickered.

It seemed as though someone had planted a golden mark there.

The mark was faint, resembling a sword scar or perhaps a golden “Sword Intent”?

“Sword Intent?”

Zhou Jin’s pupils widened in shock.

Then, in the next instant, the golden Sword Intent suddenly bloomed, transforming into fine threads.

In just one or two breaths, these Sword Threads seemed to come alive, weaving through Old Rich Zhou’s entire powerful and savage Ghost Body, completely shredding the vengeful ghost’s Divine Sense Thought Power.

The golden light vanished, and the vengeful ghost was slain.

Then, in the blink of an eye, everything dissipated into nothingness.

The golden sword light vanished, and along with it, Old Rich Zhou’s malevolent Ghost Thought was ‘decomposed.’

All around was silence.

Zhou Jin stood there in a daze, his eyes vacant, for what felt like an eternity. It was only after a long while that he snapped back to reality, as if waking from a dream.

A very bloody dream.

But as soon as he opened his eyes, any dream would vanish, and everything within it would cease to exist.

That powerful, invincible vengeful ghost had also burst like a bubble in a dream, gone in an instant.

But Zhou Jin knew this was not a dream.

Someone had forcibly interrupted his ritual, preventing the reversal of cause and effect.

Someone had extinguished the life-devouring fierce ghost from afar, saving his life.

Zhou Jin slowly collapsed onto the ground, gasping heavily for breath. His recently calmed heart was once again stirred like a raging sea.

He had often thought before that, having devoted years of painstaking study to the Yin-Yang Ghost Path, he had delved deep and become quite formidable.

But after experiencing what had just happened—especially the powerful and bloody vengeful ghost Old Rich Zhou, who died so naturally in the blink of an eye—Zhou Jin realized that even he, a dignified Golden Core cultivator and master of unorthodox arts, was little different from a helpless infant.

There are skies beyond skies, and people beyond people.

In this world, terrifyingly powerful individuals abound.

Zhou Jin let out a long, deep sigh.

…

Five days later, Manager Zhao sent Mo Hua a Message Transmission Token, saying someone wished to request an audience with him.

Mo Hua agreed. Putting on his Ghost Mask, he arrived at Manager Zhao’s private residence, where he saw Zhou Jin, his face deathly pale and almost devoid of color, bowing respectfully to him.

Manager Zhao found the scene somewhat peculiar but tactfully said, “I’ll leave you to talk. There are still matters to attend to at the shop.”

With that, he departed.

After Manager Zhao left, Mo Hua sat down at the small pearwood tea table in the courtyard.

Zhou Jin once again bowed respectfully and poured a cup of tea for Mo Hua, saying, “Senior, please.”

Mo Hua replied, “I am not a senior.”

Zhou Jin merely lowered his head in deference, not daring to respond or contradict him.

Mo Hua took a sip of tea and glanced at Zhou Jin. He noticed that the once tall and burly man had noticeably thinned in just a few days, his complexion as pale as paper and his Blood Qi as weak as a trickling stream. His vitality was severely depleted, and it was unclear how much of his lifespan had been shortened. Mo Hua couldn’t help but shake his head inwardly, sighing with emotion.

“Sit,” he said.

Zhou Jin remained deferential. “With Senior present, Zhou Jin dares not.”

Mo Hua glanced at him, pondered for a moment, and suddenly said, “You’re not Zhou Jin, are you?”

Zhou Jin froze, his lips pressed tightly together.

Mo Hua took another sip of tea and continued slowly: “Back then, when you told me that story in front of me—about your parents and younger brother dying without cause, leaving you alone and adrift until you met a geomancer who uncovered the truth—that geomancer was actually you, wasn’t it?”

Zhou Jin was taken aback.

Mo Hua looked intently at “Zhou Jin,” his gaze sharpening. “The real Zhou Jin… is someone else.”

“Zhou Jin’s” face twisted with inner conflict before he finally let out a long sigh. “Senior, your insight is truly remarkable… I am indeed not Zhou Jin.”

“What is your name?”

“I… am surnamed Lin, named Youfang. I am a geomancer from a family with a long tradition.”

Mo Hua was slightly surprised. “Your surname is Lin? Lin Youfang?”

The imposter Zhou Jin, Lin Youfang, nodded.

Mo Hua asked further, “Where are you from?”

Lin Youfang replied, “I hail from the Great Spirit Field Realm.”

“What is your relationship with Zhou Jin?”

Lin Youfang’s face was filled with indescribable melancholy and bitterness. “Zhou Jin… was my wife.”

Now Mo Hua was genuinely surprised. “Your wife?”

“Yes…” Lin Youfang nodded, sighed, and then continued: “In my younger years, I studied under my master, learning the Geomantic Art. By chance, I met a gentle yet lonely and suffering woman. Seeing that although her fate was bitter, her character was resilient and she treated others kindly, I felt compassion and affection for her.”

“Later… after spending time together, getting to know each other and falling in love, we became Dao Companions.”

“That woman was Zhou Jin.”

“What about Old Rich Zhou’s matter…” Mo Hua asked.

Lin Youfang sighed, “I deduced it through Feng Shui.”

“Jin’er is my wife; how could I not care about her affairs? Jin’er is kind-hearted, only lamenting her bitter fate, the loss of her closest kin, often grieving in secret. But as a geomancer, with just a few words, I sensed something amiss.”

“Her suffering was not caused by her fate; it wasn’t truly her fate that was bitter.”

“Rather, someone had stolen her blessings, harmed her loved ones, and that was why her fate was bitter.”

“Just like the billions of spirit farmers in the Great Spirit Field Realm… much of their suffering comes from people, not from fate.”