[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-devouring-evil-exterminating-demons-across-all-h":3,"chapter-devouring-evil-exterminating-demons-across-all-h-devouring-evil-exterminating-demons-across-all-h-chapter-80":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Devouring Evil, Exterminating Demons Across All Heavens",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2267025,4426,"Chapter 80: The Ghost God, That Year","devouring-evil-exterminating-demons-across-all-h-chapter-80",80,"\u003Cp>Ching!!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nie Longding, enraged yet unnaturally still, his furious pupils sharply contracting, twisted his wrist—the blade veered off the sword’s edge, scraping along its length.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The curved blade suddenly snapped straight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the last possible instant, Chu Tianshu sidestepped the whip-like thrust, parried the blade outward with his longsword, then raised his left hand and stabbed directly at Nie Longding’s eyeball.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For him now, in close quarters, the speed of a direct left-hand thrust was nearly equal to that of silver needles—and far deadlier.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the moment he struck.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The enemy suddenly split in two.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another figure appeared to Nie Longding’s right, a blade like a startled heron over autumn waters—phantomlike, soundless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The blade pierced straight toward Chu Tianshu’s left armpit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chu Tianshu’s body hairs bristled; his hips snapped backward, his torso sinking lower, yet pulling his entire upper body a significant distance back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Taiji Quan: Backward Riding the Black Dragon!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The human buttocks are among the most muscular parts of the body—this technique uses the buttocks to initiate force, driving the waist and back backward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This move, usually a mediocre, short-range retreat, exploded with speed like thunder at this moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His feet, still lodged in the tiles, had not yet moved—but his upper body had already gained enough distance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chu Tianshu’s left arm flicked sharply, striking the phantom blade with the copper rope wrapped around his forearm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ding!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His whip-strike deflected the blade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The sound was metallic, yet strangely hollow and resonant.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nie Longding changed tactics, slashing at Chu Tianshu’s foot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chu Tianshu yanked his foot back swiftly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two figures. Two blades.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chu Tianshu’s sword, like fire spitting its tongue, darted left and right, flaring and retracting in rapid bursts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though his feet could not stop retreating, and he had fully left the altar, he blocked every single one of their sword and knife strikes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After surviving that first terrifying onslaught, he realized:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nie Longding still had abundant stamina, but his blade technique was no longer as refined as before.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And the figure that had split from him wore the attire of a Japanese samurai, his body faintly translucent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His face was handsome, but his left arm was missing—a ghost born of a severed limb that refused to dissipate after death.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was Ito Hachiro, a Japanese swordmaster from over a century ago.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In life, he was called the One-Armed Beautiful Swordsman, the Tengu of Ito—his blade art was exceptional.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, his hair was gray, his eyes white, his skin pale and corpse-like—utterly spectral.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only around his neck was a pattern, resembling a miniature playing card.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A standard deck has fifty-four cards: thirteen each of four suits, plus two jokers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The pattern on Ito Hachiro’s neck was the Big Joker.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nie Longding also carried a “Little Joker” bound to him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was a serial killer from a small North American town decades ago—a butcher who, over several years, murdered over sixty tourists, cutting and selling their flesh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When cornered and hunted, this butcher—who knew no refined martial arts—revealed a naturally brute physique and astonishing regenerative ability.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even after soldiers arrived, he killed five with a meat cleaver before finally being gunned down by automatic fire.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Many in the gambling underworld knew how to cultivate ghosts; as an internationally renowned gambling king, Nie Longding had unique expertise in this path.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After carefully collecting these two spirits, he did not feed them blood offerings, nor did he send them out alone to increase their malevolence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Leveraging his gambling king status, he forged a custom deck of playing cards, amplifying the symbolic power of the cards, and using the ancient idol-worship associations tied to each card’s image to bind and purify these two malevolent souls.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ito Hachiro’s sword art grew purer; the butcher’s spirit retained only its ability to enhance physical strength and regeneration while possessing a host.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the Overflow Zone, ordinary ghosts usually solidify into physical forms and can no longer revert to spirit state at will.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But under Nie Longding’s control, his two ghosts could still choose to remain in spirit form.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They treated environmental enhancements as medicinal supplements.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Retreat!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After their dual-blade assault failed, Nie Longding did not hesitate—he instantly pulled the swordmaster’s spirit back into himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The split-form technique was a surprise tactic; as a surprise, it could not be maintained indefinitely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Otherwise, Chu Tianshu would adapt and launch a furious assault on Nie Longding’s weakened blade art.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was precisely why Nie Longding had not used this move earlier.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ghost possession is already a heavy burden; summoning them out and then repossessing them is pure torment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nie Longding did not know if his old bones could endure it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, though he seemed to gain the upper hand, forcing Chu Tianshu into constant retreat, he was in fact cornered—forced into a desperate, teeth-gritting battle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Indeed, the instant the swordmaster returned, Nie Longding’s face turned momentarily ashen; his left fingers twitched, curling like a chicken’s claw.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chu Tianshu raised his left hand and fired a handful of silver needles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet Nie Longding’s right-hand blade remained unaffected, its light crisscrossing wildly, slicing every needle to pieces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But at the same moment, Chu Tianshu had already generated a flood of hidden weapons.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His supply of silver needles had been entirely expended moments ago.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With one sweep of the Three Seven Divine Sword, he smashed the potted plant beside the load-bearing pillar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shattered ceramic shards flew like shrapnel from a grenade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ground to the left, the ground to the right, the surfaces of nearby load-bearing pillars.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tiles struck by the sword shattered and exploded forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Boom! Boom! Boom!! Boom! Boom! Boom!!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chu Tianshu wielded his sword like a madman—now, the longsword in his hand felt like a heavy iron whip, unleashing every brutal, whip-cracking force from fist techniques.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Facing this onslaught of “hidden weapons,” Nie Longding had to guard not only against the shards.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He also had to anticipate when Chu Tianshu would charge in behind them with a thrust.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had to divide his attention.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But even a momentary lapse meant a flaw in his blade motion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shards sliced his cheek, tore his pant leg, even embedded in his left forearm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Meanwhile, on the other side of the floor’s hole, six black-clad men had leapt up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>By now, Chu Tianshu’s battlefield had become a straight line—moving from the hole to the altar, then farther out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now, the two of them stood near the very edge of the floor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beyond the load-bearing pillars, only vast floor-to-ceiling windows remained.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The window glass was of excellent quality.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Occasionally, shards from Chu Tianshu’s attacks struck the glass—leaving only scratches and cracks, never shattering it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The six black-clad men, upon arriving, gazed beyond the great windows—into a boundless white fog.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two figures—one with sword, one with knife—fought before the wide-open windows.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shards flew everywhere; the knife-wielder lunged left and right, even attempting to advance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even when he closed the distance momentarily, the swordsman would only allow three or four blade clashes before retreating.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the slightest opening, the swordsman shifted position—and another volley of shattered tiles shot forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brilliant tactic!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The young black-clad men’s eyes lit up—they rushed to assist, crouching low and sprinting, their long staves dragging behind them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But as they sprinted forward, they saw movement near the altar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dozens of black jade fragments, scattered everywhere, suddenly accelerated and collided precisely at the altar’s center.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lang!!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All fragments aligned perfectly—not striking the same point, but fitting together into the shape of a great tree.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dark ink shimmered with green, like an engraved relief.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A strange green light, like a vine suddenly descending, fell directly upon the tree.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ritual had barely begun, already disrupted—Kiu Tianxu, the key figure, had even been shattered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet now, the Ghost God, using only this small portion of the offering as a link, granted power prematurely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Around the altar, those half-dead people suddenly stood up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The crude sutures on their wrists, previously too weak to restore hand movement, now pulsed like leaf veins, flowing with murky vitality.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nearly twenty people turned their heads in unison toward the six black-clad men approaching the altar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their eyeballs rolled upward—wet, tearing sounds of stretched nerves could almost be heard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Until their pupils vanished entirely, leaving only pure white sockets.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hahahaha!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From the floor-to-ceiling windows came a wild, rising and falling laugh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Indeed, the Ghost God is active—they crave this age too.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Longhua Tree is actively sustaining this ritual!!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>First floor of the convention center building.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The two cars blocking the corridor had been pushed out by the collective effort of the crowd.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Outside the building, beyond the mist bordering the overflow zone, lay a vast open area.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Due to the overlap of the two realms, it looked like a chaotic patchwork of concrete and rust-red sand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>More than five hundred people stumbled out, their faces still half-dazed, filled with fear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“All things are but clouds and smoke that pass in haste; my body, like willow and reed, decays too soon. What suits me best now? To drink, to wander, to sleep…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shen Yuntai followed at the rear of the crowd, with Fang Jun guarding her side.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This division chief was not skilled in direct combat, but her defensive and self-preservation abilities were excellent—and most astonishing of all, her auxiliary power.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She awakened over five hundred people, nearly unconscious and powerless, with just one poem.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“All things are but clouds and smoke that pass in haste; my body, like willow and reed, decays too soon.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What suits me best now? To drink, to wander, to sleep!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The poem echoed through the ears of the five hundred, but it was not meant for them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was recited to the boiling, surging resentment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shen Yuntai cultivated the Dao lineage known as the “Thousand-Year Song,” once called “Imperial Chant.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some traveled mountains, frontiers, and towns, performing before the imperial court, using poem after poem to reveal the spirit and scenery of each land.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A thousand years of poetry captured the essence of past and present; the present’s appearance could be painted by ancient verses, drawing power from the well-known, enduring songs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shen Yuntai recited the “West River Moon” repeatedly, halting the resentment from being rapidly siphoned upward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Otherwise, if Liu Tianxu had still been alive, he would have served as a conduit for the rapid flow of resentment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chu Tianshu’s sword could at most crack or shatter the jade statue, but to smash it outright was truly difficult.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I don’t think their consciousness is fully awake yet.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fang Jun said, “Chief, what else can we do to help those above?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shen Yuntai smiled: “The power of the resentment just dropped sharply—the core of the ritual must already be destroyed.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re all clear of the ritual’s inner space now. If you want to help, go straight up.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As she spoke, she pointed at Fang Jun’s legs: “Silver saddle gleams on white horse, swift as a falling star.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fang Jun’s pant legs crackled once; ten transparent, drifting characters flashed across his legs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He felt his legs brim with power—this springing strength should let him climb straight through the holes in the floors to the third level.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But as he turned to run inside, Shen Yuntai’s expression suddenly changed, her gaze snapping to the third floor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The crowd around them stirred in panic, all turning to look upward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What is that thing?!” “What’s happening? My head’s dizzy again!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pale gray, translucent resentment surged up from the crowd and rushed toward the third floor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some of the resentment seeped through the floor-to-ceiling windows; others remained outside, piling into countless agonized faces.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like someone had playfully drawn with mist on glass.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But these faces were too lifelike.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And they were densely packed, nearly filling the entire third-floor window.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The agonized faces surged and ebbed, their expressions shifting, each gulping down something voraciously.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The resentment below was drawn to them even faster.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“All things are but clouds and smoke that pass in haste; my body, like willow and reed, decays too soon… No, this won’t work anymore!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shen Yuntai pulled out a white jade pendant shaped like a lion’s head, pressed it against her throat, then suddenly turned to the crowd: “Don’t panic!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The voice echoed in every ear like a deep lion’s roar, silencing the crowd.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All five hundred pairs of eyes turned to Shen Yuntai; their fear was unmistakable, their surface calm ready to shatter at any moment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sing the poem. Sing with me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shen Yuntai’s mind raced, sensing the situation before her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These five hundred people were themselves vessels of resentment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every bit of resentment had been painstakingly drawn and gathered by them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the process, they had naturally gained some measure of control over it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But they were mere ordinary people, utterly unaware of this ability—and unable to wield it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There was no other option now. She could only try to guide them to suppress the resentment themselves, severing the siphoning process.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But which poem to choose? It had to be long—and easy to remember.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Could these people, even with her leading them, grasp the meaning, pour their hearts into it, and sing in unison?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some elders could no longer stand; they collapsed like bent wheat, falling to the ground in groups.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But fear made them understand: if they fell asleep here, they might never wake. Their will to live kept them propped up, half-sitting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Just sing?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>People clung to this last straw: “What poem?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fang Jun, face tense, suddenly shouted: “What about a modern song?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shen Yuntai’s eyes darted: “It must be widely known—and carry a heroic spirit…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fang Jun shouted to all: “You all know this song. Sing it!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even after hearing him, everyone remained uncertain—doubting whether they truly remembered it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But when they heard the first line, just five words in, their doubts vanished—they burst into song, excited and eager.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They all knew it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wan, li, chang, cheng, yong…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Great Wall stands forever!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They didn’t truly believe singing could fight such a haunting event—but in their fear, they had to trust the authorities and do the only thing left.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From the uneven, staggered first line, by the second they roared as one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Yellow River’s waters surge!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Our land is beautiful, peaks layered in color—how could our nation be sick?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shen Yuntai joined in.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As she sang, she added melody, all the proper music, bringing the song to life.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Open your eyes! Look closely! Who would willingly submit as a slave?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Because of cowardice and submission, the enemy grows bolder!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was not the song of a thousand years—but the song of the masses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was the song that once drew crowds to the streets in the 1980s, never fading, still sung today.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was the song every person here had heard in youth, and still heard often in old age.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Originally just the theme of a TV drama, its spirit had long transcended the show.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even if the entire TV industry decayed and no one wanted to watch old, low-quality classics,\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>this song would still be heard, familiar, stirring emotion without reason.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No need for a poet of brilliant literary skill or master of ancient music.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even these unlucky, penniless, impoverished, deceived elders shared a common identity—and could all sing this song.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Shout! Shout loudly! This land is a nation of soldiers!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Bandits who dare invade will always meet their end!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The singing grew louder, driving away the force that had been fixed upon them, draining their strength.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Invisible layers of mist seemed to shatter in midair.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In an instant, Shen Yuntai’s hands formed twelve seals, her singing never ceasing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The Great Wall stands forever! The Yellow River’s waters surge!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The resentment being siphoned from the five hundred was severed completely from the ritual.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shock of this rupture, guided by Shen Yuntai, surged straight to the ritual’s apex.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>BOOM!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The jade mosaic relief on the altar trembled violently, crumbling to dust.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All the floor-to-ceiling windows on the third floor exploded, glass powder spraying outward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Two figures flew out from the third floor, falling to the ground amid the loud singing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",2680,"2026-06-19T20:45:51.976Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","f574a13ae25582b6a435a32f6baf3fa7264843fbaef8d9954cbfbc6c95d429f4","devouring-evil-exterminating-demons-across-all-h-chapter-81","devouring-evil-exterminating-demons-across-all-h-chapter-79",155,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fdevouring-evil-exterminating-demons-across-all-h-cover.jpg"]