Chapter 158: Fifty Autumns of the Mortal World

Li Lin looked at the corpse on the ground, smiled faintly, and tossed his spear backward; someone immediately caught it.

He said, “I’m a fair man. I didn’t intend to kill him just now—only to capture him for questioning.”

“Your servant understands.” Xiao Chunzhu bowed, head lowered, refusing to look at Li Lin.

The other disciples of the Lingxiao Sect dared not look.

A hundred-plus village militia, formed into formation, still carried formidable pressure.

They could flee—the village militia couldn’t catch them.

But Lingxiao Sect couldn’t flee—it was right there.

And Lingxiao Sect was merely an ordinary sect, with no powerful backer behind it.

If this Assistant Prefect truly reported that Lingxiao Sect was suspected of colluding with the Qin clan of Yue Commandery, given the imperial court’s current sensitivity to the word “rebellion,” it would indeed cause trouble—there was a high likelihood it would be branded as treason.

Li Lin looked at Xiao Chunzhu and said, “Can you now tell me the exact details of how you encountered those righteous heroes?”

Xiao Chunzhu sighed and recounted the events.

Originally, they had traveled from Chuan Commandery intending to escort their seventh junior brother and deliver his family back to Chuan Commandery for resettlement.

Their seventh junior brother had registered his household in Chuan Commandery and would likely never return; naturally, he wished to protect his family.

When they arrived in Jincheng, someone came to them claiming that Fuxin Village had been struck by plague, and the officials of Yulin County, seeking advancement and wishing to avoid trouble, planned to surround the village and kill everyone inside to prevent the plague from spreading.

They believed it.

Because such things happened from time to time.

To prevent plague transmission, entire villages—even entire counties—were sealed off until the plague passed; it was perfectly normal.

After listening, Li Lin nodded slightly and said, “You may go.”

Upon hearing this, the Lingxiao Sect disciples all exhaled in relief.

Xiao Chunzhu stared at Li Lin, lips moving as if to speak, but finally bowed and left.

Once they were far away, Su Bei whispered, “Assistant Prefect, that man seemed to want to tell you something—could it be important information?”

Li Lin shook his head: “He wanted a position under me. I saw envy and ambition in his eyes.”

“You could tell?”

“Yes.” Li Lin smiled.

“But he’s ruthless—he killed his own junior brother without a word.”

“He’s been waiting for this opportunity a long time,” Li Lin said with a smile. “Clearly, Lingxiao Sect valued this seventh junior brother greatly—otherwise they wouldn’t have sent someone specifically to escort him home, let alone bring his family to live there. He was likely a gifted cultivator. A pity.”

Li Lin turned back to the corpse and shook his head helplessly.

Su Bei felt a chill run down his scalp.

Li Lin said, “Return to camp and rest. Tomorrow we head back to the county seat.”

Hearing this, all the village militia exhaled in relief.

Back at the camp, Li Lin assigned night watch rotations, then sat cross-legged to rest.

He was now practicing the Foundation Establishment method.

Soon he entered stillness.

But then he sensed something wrong.

He faintly heard voices speaking beside him, tried to open his eyes, but couldn’t.

Immediately, an inner landscape arose from his spiritual soul.

Still a white ocean—he floated in midair.

Above the ocean, many figures drifted and struggled, weeping silently.

Elders, youths, women and children.

Each reached out toward him, as if begging for rescue.

Each pair of eyes burned with desperate longing.

Li Lin watched silently; his mind was strangely calm, utterly devoid of emotion.

These figures writhed in the ocean, pitiful to behold, yet he felt no pity.

Then more figures tumbled down from the sky.

Men and women of all ages.

Li Lin even had the leisure to count them.

Four hundred thirty-two!

The number felt familiar.

As they fell, they instinctively drifted toward Li Lin, reaching to grasp him—but all plunged into the white ocean.

He waited a while longer, then saw another figure plummet from above, face twisted in horror.

He flailed wildly, clearly terrified.

But when he saw Li Lin, he began screaming curses.

Too bad this world made no sound—he couldn’t hear what the man was saying.

Yet Li Lin recognized him—it was the recently dead “seventh junior brother.”

He… how was he here?

Li Lin felt strange.

And when the man landed on the ocean, unlike the others who floated helplessly, he stood firmly on the waves, pointing upward at Li Lin and continuing to curse.

This displeased Li Lin greatly.

At that moment, the silver moon above suddenly flickered.

The seventh junior brother froze, then dissolved into countless white “water droplets” that sank into the sea.

Li Lin now understood: the white ocean was formed from shattered souls.

The souls still writhing in the sea would soon become new “seawater” like this.

Watching the figures struggle on the surface, Li Lin suddenly sensed something—he saw white ice shards falling from the round silver moon.

Coming straight for him.

Their momentum was even greater than last time.

Don’t catch them!

It would kill you.

Li Lin steeled his spirit and violently opened his eyes.

He forcibly exited the illusion.

Immediately, he felt a headache—forcing his way out had damaged his spiritual soul.

He felt nauseous.

He rose, pulled back the tent flap, and found it was already daylight outside.

Li Lin felt puzzled—he’d spent only about an incense-burn’s time in the illusion, yet so much time had passed outside.

Then he remembered the painting he’d seen last time.

“Illusion passes in an instant; fifty autumns pass in the mortal world.”

Did it refer to this?

At that moment, Su Bei walked over and said, “Assistant Prefect, breakfast is ready.”

Li Lin nodded, ate a simple breakfast with the village militia, then led them back.

Everyone was glad to return home.

The horror of Fuxin Village had filled them with dread.

Back in the county seat, the company commanders led the militia to the military camp.

Li Lin went to the county government office to report.

“Your Excellency, all residents of Fuxin Village are dead—no survivors,” Li Lin bowed and said.

Zhang Guangqi sighed: “Expected. You’ve worked hard. I’ll handle what follows—go rest.”

Li Lin nodded and turned to leave.

Between them now lay a rift; neither smiled at the other.

At his home’s entrance, Huang Qing and Hong Luan rushed forward joyfully, welcoming him inside, helping him wash and change.

Eating the meal his wife had prepared, Li Lin sighed deeply.

This was true peace and happiness.

Then he asked Li Yanjing beside him: “Can you see the souls of the dead?”

“I can see them—but not for long.”

Li Lin leaned back: “What do you mean?”

“After death, souls do appear,” Li Yanjing pressed close to him, her soft body brushing against his. “But then a white hole opens and swallows them!”

Oh?

Li Lin thought of the white illusion.

“Then why aren’t you swallowed?”

Li Yanjing said matter-of-factly: “Because we’re ghosts.”

(End of Chapter)