Chapter 65: The Mastermind Behind the Scenes

The Producer had just finished promising that he wouldn’t let the production staff wander off when, as soon as he stopped speaking, a series of screams erupted from outside. The Producer was stunned.

He had a strong feeling those voices belonged to his own employees.

The Producer instinctively looked toward Xie Sui.

Xie Sui offered some comfort. “It’s nothing major. Rest easy.” It was likely those human-headed, snake-bodied monsters were returning the stolen lifespans, and the staff had been frightened by the sight.

With Xie Sui’s reassurance, the Producer relaxed. Using the screams as background noise, he wearily resumed his work.

Xie Sui left the Producer’s room and returned to his own.

The room was filled with the rapid clatter of keyboard typing. Liu Wuyong’s fingers were moving so fast they left afterimages.

He had opened ten alt accounts and was passionately arguing with Wen Yue’s fans online, the battle at its peak. Seeing Xie Sui enter, he froze and reflexively slammed his laptop shut, rubbing his hands guiltily.

Xie Sui didn’t care what Liu Wuyong was doing and lay down on the bed without even taking off his clothes.

It was the middle of the afternoon, hardly the time for sleep. Liu Wuyong scratched his head in confusion. “Boss, are you taking a nap?”

“Mhm, you could call it that…” Xie Sui closed his eyes. “Watch the door. Don’t let anyone irrelevant come in and disturb me.”

“You got it.”

Seeing that Xie Sui was preparing to sleep, Liu Wuyong gave up his online battles and pulled over a small stool to sit by the bed.

The rooms assigned to the guests were side chambers¹. The only furniture in the entire room was a single bed and a set of worn wooden table and chairs. Liu Wuyong’s own bed had been brought in from another room.

Xie Sui fell asleep shortly after lying down. If one didn’t listen closely, his breathing was almost imperceptible.

Liu Wuyong, who had been scrolling through his phone, couldn’t help but glance at the bed.

The curtains, which Liu Wuyong had drawn tightly earlier, had been blown open slightly by the draft when Xie Sui entered.

The light filtering through the gap in the curtains was very weak. The flickering, dim light, swaying like a candle flame, fell across Xie Sui’s pale skin. It looked like his own flickering flame of life about to be extinguished… It felt as though Xie Sui might completely vanish from this world the moment that weak light faded.

Liu Wuyong suddenly felt like he was paying his respects to a corpse.

He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but he felt like his boss had grown even thinner.

When they first met, Xie Sui’s frame had been as thin as a sheet of paper, looking quite unhealthy, but it hadn’t been as exaggerated as it was now.

The feeling Xie Sui gave Liu Wuyong now was like a corpse lying on a bed or a piece of porcelain without any vital signs. His entire being radiated a cold, fragile aura, lacking any of the vibrant energy a living person should have.

Worried, Liu Wuyong reached out to touch Xie Sui’s forehead… It was ice-cold to the touch, like touching a block of ice.

Hiss, his heart ached a little.

Although his boss was omnipotent when facing ghosts and evil cultivators, he seemed quite poor at taking care of himself.

In the past, Liu Wuyong had spent every day hoping his former boss would die. Now, if his current boss seemed even slightly off, he was worried sick.

Looking at Xie Sui lying on the bed, a glow of paternal (?) affection suddenly appeared on Liu Wuyong’s face.

Such a frail boss had to be protected well.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Xie Sui eat anything during this entire trip. Could he have some kind of anorexia?

Seeing the light flickering across Xie Sui’s face, Liu Wuyong stood up and walked to the window to pull the curtains tight so as not to disturb his sleep.

The moment his hand touched the fabric, Liu Wuyong suddenly noticed that the light coming through the gap had changed… It had turned blood-red.

Staring at the crimson stain reflected on his hand, Liu Wuyong’s hand trembled as he held the curtain. He swallowed hard and slowly lifted a corner of the fabric.

At some unknown point, the cloudless blue sky had turned a deep blood-red. The sun hanging in the sky had vanished, replaced by a pitch-black full moon with a double image.

Liu Wuyong was stunned. He rubbed his eyes hard, but the bloody sky and the black moon remained.

He never thought he would see such a surreal, magical scene in reality.

…The entire sky looked like a giant, blood-colored double pupil.

It was already past six in the evening when the Middle-aged Daoist and his disciple arrived near Wuqi Village.

They had been keeping an eye on Liu Wuyong’s situation, and with the April 4th sacrificial ritual about to begin, they were staying nearby. Thus, it didn’t take them long to reach the village.

It was currently dusk. The lingering glow of the sun hit the massive lake, the bloody sunset dyeing the entire surface red, as if foreshadowing the bloody slaughter to come.

The Young Daoist shielded his eyes with his hand and looked into the distance. “Master, let’s take the route through the limestone caves. There don’t seem to be any villagers waiting with boats here.”

“Mhm,” the Middle-aged Daoist replied coldly, casting a deep look at the calm lake surface.

He actually couldn’t sense the aura of the water ghosts beneath the surface at all… What was going on? Could someone have taken all the water ghosts?

Although he had some doubts, the Middle-aged Daoist didn’t take it to heart. After all, the water ghosts in the lake weren’t particularly valuable; there were as many of them as one could want. If they needed new ones, they just had to hold another ‘Wuzhiqi’ sacrifice and throw the village girls in.

It wasn’t that he was underestimating the enemy; the Middle-aged Daoist felt he wasn’t as ignorant as Daoist Xiutian. He had known for a long time that there were enemies hidden in the village. In his view, Daoist Xiutian had been killed by a sneak attack before he could even activate the statue of the ‘Golden Mother of the Jade Pool’.

He was truly grateful to his Senior Brother for scouting the way for him.

A smug, shallow smile appeared on the Middle-aged Daoist’s face.

Evil cultivators like them had no sense of sectarian brotherhood. They were all self-centered villains who would use any means necessary for their own benefit.

He planned to activate the Golden Mother of the Jade Pool’s token the moment he entered the village, giving Xie Sui no time to react. He was certain this would kill him.

Because his desire to kill Xie Sui was so urgent, the middle-aged Daoist directly used a Ground-Shrinking Talisman, bringing his disciple to the front of a limestone cave in an instant.

This cave was on the route Wen Yue’s group had taken, and it contained the village’s Mass Grave. Long ago, this place had also served as the village’s “waste disposal station,” but after a shortcut to the outside world was discovered here, the villagers stopped dumping corpses inside.

The young Daoist followed behind the middle-aged Daoist as the two entered the cave, walking toward the village along a familiar path.

The closer they got to the village interior, the heavier the Yin Energy became. This familiar sensation allowed the middle-aged Daoist to breathe a sigh of relief.

It seemed the only problem had been the water ghosts in the lake; other parts of the village appeared to be fine.

They did not follow the fluorescent markers left by the production crew, instead choosing a shorter passage. This was a route known only to internal members of the Wuqi Sect. It was littered with skeletons and the passage was extremely narrow, but its advantage was its brevity, allowing them to reach the village quickly.

The middle-aged Daoist could hardly wait to see the expression of agonizing supplication on Xie Sui’s face.

While he didn’t care that his Senior Brother, Daoist Xiutian, had been killed, he cared deeply about being played for a fool. That fellow Xie Sui actually dared to use Liu Wuyong to deceive him; it was truly detestable.

A man like him was accustomed to shifting his own mistakes onto others. He selectively forgot that from beginning to end, Xie Sui had done nothing to mislead him; everything had been based on his own assumptions.

The cave exit was right before them. The fading light of the setting sun reflected into the cave, dyeing the exit in a blood-red glow.

The middle-aged Daoist flicked his sleeves and pulled a black token from his robe. With an arrogant expression, he stepped out of the cave, looking like an emperor returning to his throne.

The young Daoist also held his head high as he followed his master. Although he was internally uncertain, he had to maintain an air of shared glory to avoid shaming his master. If he caused his master to lose face, he would lose his life.

The moment they stepped out of the cave, whether it was the “emperor” or his lackey, both were scared witless.

Their bodies froze in place, not daring to move an inch.

The inside and outside of the cave felt like two entirely different worlds.

Upon stepping out, an ancient, malevolent aura rushed toward them.

That tangible, terrifying pressure felt like a massive meteorite falling from the sky. Under this inescapable shadow of despair, there wasn’t even a chance to run. They could only wait for the meteorite to crush them and pronounce their death sentence.

The middle-aged Daoist gripped the token tightly, his body trembling uncontrollably as he looked at the sky, which had turned completely blood-red.

Separated by only a single mountain, the village had looked perfectly normal from the outside. Yet once they entered the boundaries of Wuqi Village, the entire world underwent a cataclysmic change – only red remained in the world.

It didn’t feel like they had entered Wuqi Village, but rather stumbled into a dragon’s lair.

And the eye of that dragon hung in the sky, impassively sizing up the two pieces of meat that had delivered themselves to its door.

The middle-aged Daoist stared blankly at the black moon in the sky, which was surrounded by ghost images, and realization finally dawned on him.

He understood. He finally understood what had killed Daoist Xiutian.

No wonder his Senior Brother had been killed without even a soul remaining.

There was no room for resistance, no time to activate a token… under its gaze, even breathing was a luxury.

The surrounding air seemed to have been compressed into a solid. His lungs appeared to have lost the ability to draw oxygen, and a sense of suffocation surged uncontrollably.

Under this unstoppable, horrific pressure, the only thing one could do was kneel on the ground, pressing one’s body into the dust to await execution… using one’s death to please this unspeakable existence.

The middle-aged Daoist’s knees buckled. Ignoring the sharp gravel that had spilled from the cave, he knelt directly down. The sharp pain of stones embedding into his knees could not wake him from his state of extreme shock.

His mind hadn’t yet processed what was happening, but his body had subconsciously chosen submission.

The young Daoist had long since reached his limit; he had fainted the moment they exited the cave.

The middle-aged Daoist was filled with profound regret. If he had known earlier that Xie Sui was the very evil entity the Sect had been searching for, he wouldn’t have stepped foot in Wuqi Village even if a knife were held to his throat.

But there was no “knowing earlier” in this world.

At some point, the world before his eyes turned entirely red. Blood and tears poured from the middle-aged Daoist’s eyes, and then both his eyeballs burst instantly. Not just his eyes, but every orifice of his face began to spout blood. Cracks like parched earth appeared across his skin. Within seconds, the middle-aged Daoist had become a man of blood.

Two corpses fell silently at the edge of the village. With incredible speed, the bodies rotted into skeletons, then the skeletons turned into ashen dust, finally dissipating in a wind that came from nowhere.

The black token the middle-aged Daoist had been holding dropped to the ground, only to be picked up by a small, bruised-purple hand.

“Cough, cough…”

Xie Sui, who was lying on the bed, suddenly began to cough violently. This startled Liu Wuyong, who had been staring blankly into space. He quickly stood up to help Xie Sui sit up.

The moment he touched Xie Sui’s back, Liu Wuyong gasped.

What he felt beneath his hand were the rugged, uneven joints of a spine.

Xie Sui sat on the bed, covering his mouth and coughing desperately. Liu Wuyong pulled his hand back, not daring to touch his boss again.

Liu Wuyong had been immersed in the shock of the sky changing color, staring out the window for the entire afternoon. Although he vaguely knew his boss was responsible for the scene, he hadn’t expected it to take such a heavy toll on Xie Sui’s body.

He was at a loss, unsure if his earlier sensation was an illusion born of panic, or… or if the body beneath Xie Sui’s white shirt had already turned to bone.

It wasn’t necessarily bare bone; perhaps he was just so thin that his spinal vertebrae were simply more prominent.

After coughing for a long time, Xie Sui finally recovered. He turned his head to look at Liu Wuyong, who was standing by his bed, and reached out a hand toward him.

Liu Wuyong hurriedly leaned in close.

Having slept for only this short while, Xie Sui looked much weaker than before.

His eye sockets were sunken, his lips were devoid of color, and his skin was so pale it was nearly transparent, even revealing the bruised purple veins beneath the skin of his neck. He looked like someone just recovering from a major illness, or perhaps someone on the verge of death from a terminal condition…

Yet even with such a sickly appearance, his exquisite features held it together. Instead of looking haggard, it added an inhuman sense of fragility, like a porcelain doll that would shatter into pieces with the slightest touch.

Liu Wuyong gestured with his hands back and forth but didn’t dare to actually support Xie Sui, fearing he might accidentally cause his boss a serious injury with a single clumsy move.

Seeing a figure approach, Xie Sui paused for a moment. The blood-red tint faded from his eyes and his pupils slowly regained focus; it seemed he only just now realized Old Liu was there.

Xie Sui waved him off. “Old Liu, move aside. You’re blocking the way.”

Liu Wuyong instinctively stepped to the side, only to see a bruised, purple-skinned child crawling past from behind him. Its head rotated three hundred and sixty degrees, its eyes showing only whites as it gave Liu Wuyong a silent eye-roll. Then it crawled onto Xie Sui’s bed and placed a black token into Xie Sui’s hand.

As the Ghost Infant slowly merged into his body, Xie Sui explained to Liu Wuyong, “The resentment and Yin Energy on the Ghost Infant are too heavy. If it passed directly through your body, you would get sick.”

“Oh, oh, I see, I see.” Liu Wuyong scratched his head awkwardly.

Looking at the slender black token in his hand, Xie Sui let out a somewhat frustrated sigh.

What a waste of his emotions. He had originally thought the Wuqi Sect would send at least a dozen people. After setting such a grand stage, the Wuqi Sect had only sent two. It felt as frustrating as using a cannon to blast a mosquito.

Xie Sui felt a sense of disappointment in their lack of ambition. Weren’t they an evil cult? Why did they just let a minor character like him provoke them? Where was their integrity as an evil cult?

Fortunately, it wasn’t a total loss.

Recalling the information he had obtained from the soul search just now, Xie Sui climbed out of bed.

Liu Wuyong noticed the hem of Xie Sui’s shirt lift as he stood up – a flash of pale skin covered in bruised, purple cadaveric spots was visible beneath the clothes.

He secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

He had been scared to death, thinking his boss might have bare bones under his clothes. Fortunately, it was just the growth of livor mortis.

Seeing Xie Sui take out a towel and a set of clean clothes to put in his bag, Liu Wuyong seemed to realize something and asked, “Boss, are you going out?”

“Yeah, I need to head to the lake,” Xie Sui replied casually. “If anyone from the production crew looks for me, just tell them I’m out.”

Pausing for a moment, Xie Sui added another instruction: “By the way, if the crew wants to film in the village, let them. It’s fine now.” Since he had already used the power, and since it had cost him so much effort, he might as well maintain it for a while. He wouldn’t end it until after the sacrifice on April 4th.

Liu Wuyong looked at the sky outside, which was still a blood-red hue, and hesitated to speak.

He felt that even if those crew members were forced, they wouldn’t take a single step outside. In a scene that looked like the end of the world, anyone with a weak heart who wandered around out there probably wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.

Xie Sui didn’t pay attention to Liu Wuyong’s complex internal monologue. Carrying his change of clothes, he walked toward the lake.

He needed to go into the water again.

The black token the Middle-aged Daoist had brought was used to activate the statue beneath the lake.

Besides its important sacrificial role, the giant underwater statue was also the core of the massive formation that spanned the entire village.

Activating the formation in times of crisis could sweep all outsiders who lacked the Wuqi Sect’s aura mark into an illusion. This was the defensive array for the entire stronghold.

Recalling how Daoist Xiutian had desperately tried to return to the temple last night, he probably wanted to activate this formation… unfortunately, he was torn to shreds by those resentful spirits before he could make it back.

Xie Sui threw his backpack onto a nearby rock and walked into the lake step by step.

After submerging in the water, Xie Sui instantly activated the token in his hand.

A phantom image of a giant Bagua compass² flashed before his eyes. The lake water instantly vanished, replaced by a pitch-black space.

In this dark space, the only light came from a figure standing not far away.

Looking at that shadow, Xie Sui sighed softly.

“It’s you. It seems I didn’t guess wrong after all.”

Xie Sui looked at the Middle-aged Daoist before him, who wore Daoist robes and an air of righteousness, and said expressionlessly, “It’s been a long time.”

However, this Middle-aged Daoist was merely an illusion hidden at the end of a talisman array, unable to answer Xie Sui’s greeting.

The terms ‘transcendent’ and ‘upright’ seemed born for this black-robed Daoist. Looking at him, one could feel a sense of noble spirit radiating from him. Just by looking at his face, it was impossible to imagine what disgusting things he did behind the scenes.

The pursuit of longevity… using the flesh and blood of the innocent to pave his path, using the bones of others as fuel to light the dark road to immortality.

This was the so-called righteous path. He was the Sect Leader of the Shangqing Sect, and also the Sect Leader of the Wuqi Sect.

Until today, Xie Sui finally understood what his grandfather’s words meant.

He raised his hand and slowly passed it through the head of the illusion before him, as if he wanted to tear the skin off his face.

“Now I have a proper reason to kill you. This doesn’t count as breaking my promise. I will find you, and then I will scatter your ashes to the wind.”

The author has something to say:

All the main plot clues that needed to be given have been given. Wuqi Village will end in one more chapter.

Translator’s Notes