Chapter Thirty-Four: Awakening

Xichunxue had still underestimated the true nature of the artifact her master had bestowed upon her, named the “Shanji Book Pavilion.” This artifact could neither harm nor protect; its only function was to allow the reading of books, whether celestial tomes or all the volumes of the mortal world.

Yet it was not without limitations. The possessor must have seen the book with their own eyes, if only a single page; it would then be catalogued and completed within the “Shanji Book Pavilion.” For martial manuals, the process of restoration depended on the difficulty of the text, while classics, histories, travelogues, and ritual miscellanies required the user to expend their vital essence.

As for obscure and profound works such as the Daoist Canon, Buddhist Sutras, or texts on the Five Elements and Yin-Yang, even draining all the possessor’s essence might not suffice to complete them, and attempting so might even cause backlash.

“Nine Hells” was precisely a book beyond Xichunxue’s current ability to read.

It was not something she had ever perused, nor had her master, but it was rumored to have been left within the Pavilion by its very first owner, who, having ascended to the heavens and descended to the deepest hells, had preserved it there.

This person was Master Dongyun, the founder who established the Langhuan Palace at Mount Wuliang. After a millennium of cultivation, having achieved the convergence of the three flowers and the gathering of the five energies, he left behind several artifacts at Langhuan Palace a thousand years ago, then ascended Kunlun in the north and, guided by immortals, vanished to the heavens.

The “Shanji Book Pavilion” was among these treasures.

Yet, since it could neither harm nor protect, and no one knew it hid a collection of rare tomes, it was eventually left with the uncontentious Yuhua lineage of Langhuan Palace, and later fell into Xichunxue’s hands.

“There shouldn’t be any trouble.”

Pain seared down Xichunxue’s back, as if she had fallen from a great height. Although she had forced herself to recite the “Nine Hells,” causing her consciousness to spiral downwards, she could still feel the Soul-Binding Dark Chain on her wrist shuddering violently.

Had she continued, the chain would likely have shattered, unable to bear the strain.

But Xichunxue also knew that if she pressed on, her consciousness would be lost forever in the darkness, never to awaken. So she forcibly broke off the incantation that threatened to consume her mind.

Yet the backlash from the “Nine Hells” still drained her vital essence, causing her to faint on the spot.

When she awakened, Xichunxue ignored the overwhelming weakness of her soul and forced herself to her feet, suppressing the dizziness and surveying her surroundings.

Ghostly energy drifted through the air—it was neither dense nor thin.

The will-o’-wisps that usually floated above had all extinguished, and the pitch-darkness made it difficult for Xichunxue to determine whether she was still in the ghost prison or somewhere unknown.

The only good news was that the Soul-Binding Dark Chain on her wrist now bore cracks in its sealing runes.

"Supreme Star of the Celestial Platform, ever responsive to change. Expel evil, bind spirits, protect life and body. May wisdom be clear, mind and soul at peace. May the three souls endure forever, and the corporeal souls never be lost..."

Seeing this, Xichunxue quickly formed a seal with both hands, steadied her mind, and began to recite the Heart-Purifying Spirit Charm.

The Heart-Purifying Spirit Charm was the foremost of the Eight Divine Charms. Regardless of the Daoist school, all practitioners learned these eight charms, as they were recited every morning and evening, and during talismanic cultivation to cleanse body and mind, dispel distractions, and settle the spirit.

But Xichunxue’s purpose was different—she relied on another effect of this charm:

To protect the soul and safeguard the spirit.

As a faint pure light shimmered around her, the Soul-Binding Dark Chain on her wrist glowed with a pale blue radiance. The blue light had just begun to shine when a crisp snap rang out.

The chain broke.

Her previously insubstantial soul grew more solid with each flicker of pure light, and her gaze regained its brightness, though the exhaustion was still plain to see in those luminous eyes.

“The shackles are broken, but I have no essence left to perform any arts,” Xichunxue sighed softly.

Without vital essence, she could not condense spiritual energy. And with the netherworld filled with ghostly and baleful energies, meditation and recovery were impossible here.

Whoosh.

A wisp of ghostly blue flame appeared in the darkness, then suddenly flared up, illuminating the cell with its eerie light.

"You..."

Xichunxue frowned, looking at the heart of the ghostly flame. Xu Hancheng sat against the wall with eyes closed, chin slightly raised, knees bent, his posture unremarkable.

"Ahem, the changes in his condition are hard to describe," Duan Lingqi coughed lightly behind Xichunxue. No one knew how long he had been standing there, so his sudden cough startled her into taking a few steps back.

“And where is the green Soul-Binding Rope on you?” she asked, puzzled. She distinctly remembered Duan Lingqi had been bound by a green rope, but now it was gone.

“The Ghost Judge sent Ox-Head and Horse-Face to remove it just now,” Duan Lingqi replied, stepping forward to avoid being too far from Xichunxue.

“Why would the Ghost Judge come here? Was our commotion too great?” Xichunxue wondered silently. Had her recitation of "Nine Hells" caused such a disturbance that even the Ghost Judge took notice? But evidently, nothing else seemed amiss.

"And the ghosts in this cell? Were they moved elsewhere?" she mused, using the eerie blue firelight to survey their surroundings. Not a single ghost remained in the cell, though they themselves had not been relocated.

“That’s also hard to say,” Duan Lingqi coughed again, his eyes flickering involuntarily to the still Xu Hancheng, before he shook his head.

Xichunxue frowned at Duan Lingqi. In the blue glow, his glance was entirely too deliberate—clearly, he was signaling that everything had to do with the now-meditating Xu Hancheng.

"Did anything happen when he was reciting along with me?" Xichunxue suddenly noticed that Duan Lingqi’s demon soul appeared somewhat insubstantial as well.

“Ahem, why don’t you ask him yourself?” Duan Lingqi, like someone with a cold, coughed incessantly, gesturing for Xichunxue to question Xu Hancheng instead.

“You weren’t nearly this deferential to him before,” Xichunxue thought, her curiosity deepening. Duan Lingqi was the quintessential bully of the weak, sometimes showing her rare respect, but never toward Xu Hancheng.

The strangeness only made Xichunxue more curious.

What exactly had happened?

She approached Xu Hancheng, but with every step, something felt amiss. As she drew closer, her very soul began to tremble involuntarily.

A chill like falling into an icy abyss seeped into her spirit, growing sharper with each step. The sensation was as if her soul might freeze and fracture at any moment.

One step further, and her soul might shatter entirely.