Chapter 98: Passengers Disembark

Wu Xian had endured many trials.

But before these dead passengers, he dared not stir an inch.

He only prayed these twenty-two big brothers would leave quickly, and not toy with everyone’s hearts inside the bus.

If a real conflict broke out.

The only thing Wu Xian had to save his life was the human divine art—Hard Qi Gong; though it could make him a true man for one minute, after that minute he’d be completely at others’ mercy.

As time passed.

Even the dumbest among them had realized those beside them were not alive.

Just then.

He’s dead!

The first death in this blessed land appeared.

“Time’s up!”

The atmosphere grew oppressive and terrifying.

Suddenly, all the malevolent spirits turned together, facing the fellow passengers, their faces twisting into eerie smiles.

Wu Xian felt his whole body might come apart; he had multiple minor bruises, but no bones or tendons were broken—his arms and legs could still move freely.

“Old man Zhao, stop the bus! They’re all getting off—can’t you hear them?”

Driver Old Zhao turned his head, revealing an expression far worse than death: “I can’t stop. The brakes are broken. And… I’ve seen that same bus ahead of us for the fourth time already.”

The malevolent spirits no longer concealed themselves.

Through the window, they could see the old man’s corpse slumped in his seat, blood oozing from nose and mouth, his body twitching occasionally—as if someone were trying to straighten his corpse.

But now no one had time to care about the old man.

She closed her eyes, fiddling with her prayer beads, loudly reciting the scriptures of the Three Officials Sect.

Though this vividness was something everyone might not want to see.

Their postures grew more horrifying: all their faces turned uniformly pale, their lips a terrifying crimson, foul odors wafting from their open wounds, wriggling maggots crawling out to add a grotesque vitality to their faces.

Among them, Wei Dian and Guan Daorong had climbed out of the bus even earlier than Wu Xian, their expressions surprisingly calm.

Everyone endured the terror of riding alongside these malevolent spirits as time crept toward midnight.

This eerie spectacle sent a chill down the spines of Du E, Hu Yun, and the other juan people, while ordinary folks like Sha Xiwen teetered on the brink of madness.

Swish!

A white object flashed past the bus.

After climbing out, Wu Xian immediately surveyed the surroundings.

The bus crashed heavily to the ground; the malevolent spirits vanished one after another.

Wu Xian nearly suffered cardiac arrest from fright.

Even Wei Dian stopped laughing loudly, retaining only a stubborn smirk at the corner of his mouth.

The bus descended with unnatural slowness; the dead passengers beside him clamped down hard, emitting a murky black aura that wrapped around him.

He unfastened his seatbelt, smashed the glass with the safety hammer, and crawled out of the bus.

This couldn’t possibly be that simple—so many malevolent spirits boarded just to take a stroll and then leave, nothing happening?

That’s far too un-blessed.

“So this is how they get off!”

Before Wu Xian could make sense of it, a tremendous force struck—the bus flipped sideways, shattered the guardrail, and rolled down the cliffside into the dim forest below.

He was scared to death.

“We’re getting off!”

The bus lay twisted and broken, yet all passengers inside were unharmed, one by one climbing out to survey their surroundings.

In the end, all twenty-two people on board—except the old man who had been frightened to death—were unscathed.

Ordinary participants like Guan Daorong, Qi Peiyeh, and Su Mi all brightened visibly.

This caused Wu Xian to retract his prepared Hard Qi Gong.

The crash of the bus seemed to have stirred something in the forest.

“This isn’t the bus to our destination!”

Midnight was when yin energy was strongest and malevolent spirits most powerful.

“It’s coming!”

Wu Xian kept his seatbelt draped over his body but not fastened, his other hand gripping the safety hammer, ready to activate Hard Qi Gong at any moment—so he could respond to whatever came next.

The one reciting the scripture was the white-haired Qing Jie.

All passengers saw that the white object was the same bus that had blocked the road earlier—it had been circling the cliff all along!

A voice reciting scripture came from inside the bus.

Then, under Wu Xian’s tense gaze, the dead passenger fastened his seatbelt for him.

“?”

The flower-patterned Auntie He broke into a cold sweat.

The bus’s sudden fall.

Rolling, rolling… Boom!

The flower-patterned Auntie, seated right behind the driver, screamed.

What would these twenty-two malevolent spirits on board do?

Possession?

Or substitution?

…

With her voice, the chaos inside the bus gradually calmed; the scripture seemed to soothe the mind, restoring reason and courage, steadying their spirits.

“The Three Primordials guard in unison, the Ten Thousand Saints see as one, no disaster, no obstacle, forever preserving the Dao heart in peace. The main scripture is recited thrice, Three Primordials, Forgiving Heaven Sovereign…”

Here was a gloomy, dark willow grove; at a glance, save for the cliff, all around were thick tree trunks, the ground covered in thick, slender fallen leaves, faint sounds of insects and birds audible.

These creepy devils were finally getting off.

He knew this feeling well—during the last blessed land’s descent at the leader’s mansion, his six daughters and the hair-possessing spirits had used this method to protect him from falling injuries.

The scene was horrifying.

An elderly man who had trembled the whole journey suddenly clutched his chest, his body twitching slightly, gasping for breath, his head slumping limply.

Or perhaps outright, unrestrained slaughter?

Wu Xian soon saw the answer.

“Ah… ah…”

The corpse spirit beside the old man kept fiddling with the corpse—pulling it straight, prying open its eyes, stretching its mouth, adjusting its posture.

Under his lead, the other dead passengers rose one by one, shouting at the driver to stop; their voices were shrill and piercing, like a chorus of ghosts wailing at night.

“I want to get off!”

They revealed their monstrous forms, reaching out toward the tourists, screams rising in waves.

Wu Xian turned his head to look back.

The dead passengers’ cries grew louder, but the bus kept moving forward, showing no sign of stopping.

But Wu Xian soon realized this terrifying fall wasn’t as dangerous as he’d imagined.

But the juan people all slightly changed their expressions.

Wu Xian prepared himself.

The handsome dead passenger beside him suddenly stood up and shouted at the driver.

Beneath the dim moonlight, shadowy figures flickered and approached; the cries of birds, beasts, snakes, and insects grew even more mournful and chilling.

Rustle!

A giant owl landed on the roof—its face was human.

There were also rotting wolves with glowing green eyes, stumbling corpses, floating human-skin lanterns, eerie hovering coffins… countless inhuman things converged toward them.

(End of Chapter)