Chapter 61:
The Jiang King’s Tomb (Part 4):
Chen Henian Almost Lunged at It…
It was calling him.
As Chen Henian faced the creature, it resembled a black wolf lurking in the shadows, its sharp, white teeth bared, its gaze fixed on him, not entirely predatory, but filled with a chilling possessiveness, a look he didn’t appreciate.
This was the main tomb chamber. An open coffin, made of iron, stood in the center, no glittering treasures or artifacts, only a guqin resting beside it. This wasn’t the tomb of Jiang Wuwen, nor the Crown Prince.
Then who?
The figure moved, a tall man, eight feet in height, emerging from the darkness, not entirely human, dressed in ancient black robes, its long hair unbound, the jingling of copper coins with each step, ancient bronze coins with green jade inlays, its hands and feet human-like, but its fingernails long and black, its skin pale and paper-thin, yet unblemished.
A jiangshi, its presence radiating the aura of death, more powerful than any creature they had encountered before, capable of controlling the tomb’s mechanisms.
Chen Henian had never seen such a jiangshi. Dealing with them was a Daoist specialty, so he looked at Zuo He, who seemed even more tense, his expression grim, sweat beading on his forehead despite the tomb’s coldness.
“Why are you looking at them?! I forbid it!” the jiangshi roared, its voice filled with rage, its lips trembling. “I’m here! Brother, you can only look at me!”
Its eyes glowed red, its voice accusatory. “Brother, why aren’t you looking at me? Why won’t you look at me? Am I so unworthy of your attention?!”
It raged like a madman, and Chen Henian frowned, his gaze silencing it, its expression softening into a smile as it took a step towards him.
The jingling of the coins was irritating, this jiangshi annoying, he thought.
“It’s targeting you,” Zuo He said, his hand gripping his sword, stepping in front of Chen Henian, his eyes fixed on the jiangshi. “Step back, find a way to escape.”
“He’s right,” Jiang Wan said, realizing the jiangshi’s identity. “He must be the other prince, Jiang Li, King Wuwen’s half-brother, the one imprisoned and never seen again.”
Jiang Li…
Chen Henian hadn’t paid much attention to that name in the history books, his existence a mere footnote.
Zuo He shielded Chen Henian, his body a barrier, an act that enraged the jiangshi.
“You dare?!”
Its roar echoed through the chamber, like a thunderclap, making their legs tremble.
The jingling of coins, a blur of movement, and the jiangshi’s face was inches from Zuo He’s, its speed incredible. He barely raised his sword before he was struck, his eyes widening in shock as he was thrown against the wall, the jiangshi’s hand grazing his wooden sword, its iron-like nails leaving deep gouges in the wood. Southern Daoist artifacts were effective against jiangshi, but this one was ancient, its power immense.
This was beyond his abilities. The impact had knocked the wind out of him, his back aching, but he couldn’t waste time. He scrambled to his feet, his mind racing.
With Zuo He gone, Chen Henian faced the jiangshi alone. He threw a handful of glutinous rice at it, but it had no effect, the jiangshi simply smiling, amused, like a cat swatting at a toy, its eyes gleaming with a predatory excitement.
Chen Henian had never seen such an expression on a creature’s face before. Its gaze sent a chill down his spine.
Suddenly, the world around him faded, the sounds muffled, replaced by the soft whisper of falling snow, a thick blanket of white covering the ground, his feet sinking into it, his body wrapped in a heavy fur coat, the soft fur brushing against his neck.
“Brother.”
The jiangshi’s voice, gentle now, its gaze soft as it looked at him.
Its eyes resembled his own, its lips curved into a smile, the monstrous nature beneath its human facade barely concealed. Chen Henian saw his own reflection in its eyes.
His long hair, dark against the snow, his face paler than usual, his features more refined, like a sculpted jade statue, his jawline sharper, his expression cold and distant, like the snow, untouchable.
He saw a peach tree, its branches laden with blossoms, growing by a red wall.
The ghost had said it saw peach blossoms.
A hand on his shoulder, the large, cold hand of a foolish ghost, and Chen Henian smiled, the jiangshi’s smile fading.
A gust of wind, time slowing down, his consciousness returning to his body, his fingers gripping the silver needle in his sleeve, the jiangshi’s hand reaching for his face, Jiang Wan pushing him aside, the Black Wraith shrieking, his hair swirling around him, Zuo He throwing his sword.
All happening at once.
Surrounded, the red string on his finger stretching taut, a flash of movement, a massive shadow erupting from beneath him, ghost and jiangshi colliding, their power immense.
Like a tsunami, a wall of force, crashing down, the three of them caught in the undertow, thrown back, landing hard on the ground, the dust and debris swirling around them, making them cough, their hands covering their mouths and noses.
The great ghost stood before Chen Henian, its back to him, its form massive, as if it had fully emerged from his body.
He heard its ragged breathing, louder than a roaring engine, its anger and hatred palpable.
The jiangshi pointed at them, its laughter sharp and mocking. “Useless woman, pathetic slave, Brother, what do you see in them?”
It called the great ghost a slave, its eyes fixed on Chen Henian, its voice filled with resentment and rage. “We share the same blood! I’m your brother! I should be the one closest to you!”
Its voice turned mournful. “But you never think of me, only these worthless creatures! After all these years, still them! I hate them, I hate them so much!”
“Brother, this slave stole our kingdom! And it dares to appear before you! Have you been blinded for long enough?”
“I hate you! I hate your foolishness—!”
The jiangshi’s rage unleashed, its true form revealed, bloodthirsty and monstrous, its laughter echoing through the chamber, blood flowing from its wounds, staining the floor, washing away the dust, pooling in the corners.
The ghost attacked first, its black mist engulfing them, its tendrils lashing out, piercing the stone walls, shaking the tomb, its form merging with the darkness, the jiangshi unafraid.
The air was thick with dust and the stench of blood, the jiangshi’s wounds glowing red in the darkness, its blood a corrosive acid.
A millennial jiangshi, as powerful as a great ghost.
The ghost should have been empowered by the dragon’s aura, the merit of a ruler, but it wasn’t its true form, its body still buried elsewhere, its power limited by its connection to Chen Henian. Its usual invincibility was uncertain against such a powerful opponent.
Chen Henian couldn’t see clearly, the dust and debris raining down, the ground shaking, the two giants battling, their struggle threatening to collapse the tomb. The jiangshi’s blood dripped onto the floor, and he looked down, seeing runes etched into the stone, the blood filling the grooves, revealing the characters.
He saw the words “Summon God.”
Gods couldn’t be summoned, only ghosts. The jiangshi was already awake, who was it summoning?
The answer came from the blood pooling on the floor, a bulge rising from its surface, taking shape, then shrinking, blood dripping, forming a human figure, a middle-aged man, while the ghost and jiangshi battled.
An evil spirit.
Chen Henian, the object of the ghost’s affection, was also the target of this new entity’s gaze.
He threw a silver needle, aiming for the blood ghost, but it missed, falling to the ground. The red string, sensing the ghost’s presence, tried to bind it, but the blood ghost absorbed it, its form expanding, snapping the string.
Chen Henian shielded his face, but a few drops of viscous blood landed on his hair.
The blood on the floor formed thin, snake-like tendrils, and Jiang Wan, summoning the Black Wraith, tried to dispel them with its yin energy, but the blood, like parasites, clung to the Black Wraith, seemingly absorbing its power, the ghost struggling in the air, the red tendrils burrowing into its flesh.
Jiang Wan clutched her head, her face pale, recalling the Black Wraith, its form flickering, then yelled at Chen Henian, “Don’t touch it! It’s not an ordinary ghost, it’s more powerful than Elder Sister!”
More powerful than an evil spirit, its techniques grotesque and unsettling, what was it?
Another millennial entity?
The blood ghost’s laughter was ancient, its form approaching rapidly. Zuo He threw a yellow talisman, his fingers moving in a series of hand gestures. “Yin fire, yang essence, arise!”
The talisman burst into flames, a wall of fire, but the blood ghost simply walked through it, unharmed.
Then, a familiar scent, three black tendrils shooting out, like icy spikes, blocking the blood ghost’s path, preventing it from reaching Chen Henian.
But the ghost shouldn’t have turned back, it was still fighting the jiangshi. A gust of wind cleared the dust and mist.
Chen Henian saw the jiangshi, a blade of blood protruding from the ghost’s chest, piercing its heart, black blood dripping from the wound.
The ghost, its expression unchanged, its tendrils severing the blade, reached for the wound, its hand gripping the bloodied tip, but the blood ghost attacked again, its methods as grotesque as ever, a swarm of insects burrowing into the ghost’s body.
The ghost thrashed, its rage shaking the tomb, the stone walls trembling, then it stilled, its eyes no longer on Chen Henian, its form like a dormant volcano.
The jiangshi and the blood ghost seemed to be working together, their combined power forming a web, the insects likely poisonous.
The jiangshi smiled, its voice filled with contempt. “This tomb was built for this pathetic slave. You think your lowly blood is worthy of a throne? You enjoyed a few years of freedom, but now, you’re nothing but dirt beneath my feet.”
The ghost’s power had waned, and the jiangshi, pleased, stood on the platform, its arms spread wide, like a conquering hero, two doors on either side of the chamber opening, revealing rows of terracotta soldiers, their bodies stiff, but moving, yellow talismans on their foreheads, marching out of the tomb.
“Brother… what use is he?” the jiangshi turned to Chen Henian, its voice mocking. “Join me, become one with me, that’s your only chance of survival.”
Its voice made Chen Henian’s stomach churn. He frowned, his ghost trapped, poisoned by the blood ghost, its dignity violated.
“I’m going to reach it,” he said, his voice low and determined. “Help me.”
“I understand, go,” Zuo He replied, throwing his wooden sword. It struck the pool of blood, white smoke rising as the wood began to rot.
He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly, his fingers moving in a series of hand gestures, chanting, “Primordial qi, summon the thunder gods, unite the void, gather the five elements!”
Chen Henian ran, his breath coming in ragged gasps, the air thick and heavy, his chest tight, his feet sinking into the blood, as if pulled downward, the blood ghost’s gaze fixed on him.
He didn’t stop, feeling the ghost’s consciousness strengthening as he approached.
It needed him.
He wouldn’t hesitate.
The blood ghost’s eyes flashed a warning, then its face twisted in anger, blood-red worms emerging from the ground beneath Chen Henian’s feet, trying to ensnare him.
Zuo He’s eyes snapped open, a purple light flashing within them.
“Thunder, descend—!”
A deafening crack of thunder echoed through the tomb, a bolt of lightning striking the wooden sword, the chamber illuminated by a blinding white light.
The lightning struck the blood ghost, a powerful technique, beyond a junior Daoist’s abilities, but Zuo He had forced it, his face pale, the taste of blood in his throat, his hand trembling as he maintained the seal, sweat dripping from his forehead.
“Stop him!” the jiangshi roared, its rage growing. “I won’t give you a choice! Only me!”
Zuo He faltered, his back bending, the lightning fading, the blood ghost shrieking behind Chen Henian.
“Don’t look back!” Jiang Wan yelled. “I’ll help!”
She ran forward, stopping nearby, her mouth opening, her eyes turning black, the Black Wraith appearing on her shoulder, red runes appearing on her tongue, like swarming ants.
“Bind—!”
She chanted, her voice low and powerful, the Jiang clan’s secret technique, ghost control.
Her fingers spread, invisible threads emanating from them, wrapping around the blood ghost.
The blood ghost’s face contorted in agony, its body struggling against the invisible bonds, Jiang Wan’s veins bulging, her strength tested. She couldn’t control it like her Black Wraith, but she could restrain it, for a while.
But they had forgotten the jiangshi, its anger growing, its attention turning to them.
Its gaze fell on Jiang Wan and Zuo He, and they felt a sharp pain, as if struck by a blow to the head, their bodies flying backward, crashing against the wall, Zuo He coughing up blood.
Jiang Wan, ignoring the pain, helped him up. They weren’t discouraged, Chen Henian was close enough.
He leaped forward, his hands grabbing the blood worms, tearing them apart, the blood ghost trying to stop him, but he had reached the ghost.
It woke up, its head lifting, a tendril catching him as he fell.
He almost lunged at it, biting his tongue, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth as he kissed the ghost, the blood flowing between their lips.
The ghost’s arms wrapped around him, its tendrils enveloping them, shielding them.
He forced his blood down the ghost’s throat, its tongue cold and wet, like its tendrils, twining around his, his bitten tongue throbbing, his first kiss, a bloody, painful exchange, the viscous liquid, blood and something else, he couldn’t tell, filling his mouth.
The ghost licked his wound, its saliva soothing the pain, stopping the bleeding, his Tai Yin blood a potent elixir, strengthening the ghost, the black mist expanding, breaking the invisible bonds, its eyes darkening.
“I remember something,” it said.
It held him tightly, something growing within it, not just its power, but something else, an unfamiliar emotion blooming in its heartless core.
“You died,” the ghost said. “They all told me you were dead.”
“But I couldn’t find you, not even after I died.” Its voice was filled with sorrow. “It… hurt.”
“My heart hurt.”
