Chapter 135: Fragment Resonance

Zhou Qian left, but that nasty, cold vengeful energy hadn't fully dissipated; it still clung to the air inside the room.

Old Hu trembled as he wiped sweat for Third Master Liu and gave him water, his mouth repeating over and over, "Thank you, Divine Doctor Zhang," "Thank you, Miss Lin."

"Third Master, think carefully—how exactly did you come into contact with this thing?" Zhang Jun walked to the bedside, speaking softly. The person just rescued from the Ghost Gate Pass was fragile in spirit and couldn't help but press the question.

Third Master Liu could barely catch his breath, his eyes murky as they turned this way and half a day, like fishing a sunken stone from the bottom of the water. "I can't remember…… my head hurts……" He pressed his hands to his forehead, brows knotted tight. "It seems…… a few days ago I picked up a pile of old junk, and a torn map was mixed in…… it was spooky, so I followed the map to go there……"

His breathing suddenly grew ragged, a pallid flush appearing on his face. "West side of the city…… a ruined courtyard…… desolate beyond belief…… half the walls have collapsed……"

"A deserted manor?" Zhang Jun's heart jumped. "You went inside?"

"Um…… inside…… there was a sickly person……" Third Master Liu's throat trembled, the lingering fear impossible to hide. "The courtyard…… there in the yard was a black jar, half-buried in the soil…… the jar's mouth…… sealed with something…… I…… I just couldn't resist, I poked it with a finger……" His body jerked. "Just that! The jar split—'whoosh'—a puff of black smoke shot out and got on me…… after that…… I don't know anything……"

Black jar, deserted manor, gloomy……

East Alley of White Pagoda Temple—that old house without a sign!

Zhang Jun and Lin Xue exchanged a glance; they both knew. Third Master Liu had blundered into that place—most likely the old haunt of the Medicine Sect. That black jar was probably set up by the Zhou family, or someone else, using the area's evil nature as a trap, and it might well be linked to the runes in the stone chamber.

Just as that thought settled, the bronze piece Zhang Jun kept in his pocket suddenly grew hot. He hurriedly pulled it out; the ancient patterns on the copper lit up on their own—a faint, warm glow, plainly visible to the naked eye.

Beside him, Lin Xue also produced that dark‑blue crystal; it reacted too, a layer of pale blue light flowing across its surface like ripples, clearer than ever before.

The two fragments came together, their mutual pull suddenly surging—so strong they nearly jumped from his grasp, pointing straight toward one direction—White Pagoda Temple!

It was as if the faint remnant of evil energy left in Third Master Liu's body, the very energy that had come from the black jar, had been fully roused!

"They're pointing the way." Lin Xue's voice was a little dry; she could feel the fragments throbbing in her palm, and her own Profound Yin Internal Force throbbed in sympathy, an indescribable link.

Zhang Jun stowed the fragments, his mind racing.

The stone chamber beneath the old house, the runes on its walls, the black jar Third Master Liu shattered, the Zhou family's corpse‑refining puppet evil art, and the jumble of memory fragments in Lin Xue's mind……

All the clues have now twisted together; the rope's end is tied to the deepest part of that ruined courtyard.

"We can't wait." Zhang Jun made up his mind. "We have to go again."

"Someone's outside." Lin Xue warned, the lurking sinister vibe outside the hotel, the Qin and Zhou families' spies—none of them had withdrawn.

"Shake them off." Zhang Jun walked to the window, pulling the curtain open a slit. The night was dark and windy—perfect for the job.

This time sneaking in, they were more careful than ever, risking their lives. The two of them truly blended into the night like two shadows, evading every watchful eye, open or concealed, and slipped silently into that dead courtyard in the East Alley of White Pagoda Temple once more.

The weeds were still as deep as ever, the smell of rotting wood even more pungent. The gray‑robed old man who swept the grounds was nowhere to be seen.

They moved with practiced ease to the base of the east wall, pried open the stone slab, and a gust of cold, damp air rushed up with a 'whoosh'. Without hesitation, one after the other they jumped in.

The stone steps led down, dark and narrow, the air cold enough to freeze the marrow in one's bones. Apart from the two of them making the lightest possible footsteps, everything was dead silent.

Soon, the stone door carved with those ancient patterns loomed ahead again.

Lin Xue stepped forward, her fingertips chilled, and pressed several inconspicuous nodes on the door with practiced ease. A creaking groan echoed as the stone door slowly swung inward.

The stone chamber was just as before—stone table and chairs, a bronze incense burner in the corner full of cold ash. The four walls were covered thickly with runes, black as ink, like countless twisted worms crawling over them; staring too long made the head swim and the heart feel oppressed.

Zhang Jun walked up to a wall, lit up his phone screen's faint light, and traced the characters one by one. He compared the fragmentary mnemonics recorded in the Medicine Sect's fragmented text and the symbols on his copper piece with the wall's designs.

The lines twisted and turned, many sections broken, indistinct. It made his brain ache, but amid the blur a few recurring characters emerged; when pieced together, their meaning sent a chill down his spine.

"……Yin‑Yang……combined refinement……soul……spirit……sacrifice……" Zhang Jun hoarsely uttered the few letters he could barely make out, each syllable carrying a hint of evil and the scent of blood. In the Medicine Sect's transmission, something unclean and unseemly must have been mixed in.

Beside her, Lin Xue reached out, her icy fingertips touching those grooves on the stone wall.

Just this!

A blast of force, who knows how many times stronger than before, slammed into her mind with a boom!

No longer those vague shadows of light, but a vivid scene, as if she were standing right there——

A huge round altar built of black stone stood alone in a vast underground cavern. The jar's surface was etched with grooves, the grooves filled with runes more intricate and sinister than those on the stone chamber walls, suffused with a dark‑red blood‑hue. Countless translucent shadows writhed and struggled, circling the altar in silent, anguished wails.

At the altar's center, the indistinct figure from before was now much clearer. Clad in the same gray robe, gaunt to the point of merging with his shadow, he lifted both hands and chanted a low, slow incantation—an old, dark tune that boded no good.

In the jar's grooves flowed a sticky, dark‑red substance…… it was blood! Nothing but blood, streaming toward the jar's center!

What chilled her to the bone was the feeling…… that she herself lay beneath the altar! Head tilted up, gazing! She could even smell that thick, un‑dissipatable stench of blood, and the bone‑deep cold!

"Ah……" Lin Xue squeezed out a short, sharp gasp from her throat, her body shaking uncontrollably, the stone wall beneath her fingertips scorching hot.

The memory fragments buried deepest, tinged with pain and fear, surged out madly. The icy stone chamber…… desperate cries…… and…… as she was dragged toward the altar, those eyes looking at her—full of pleading……

"Lin Xue!" Zhang Jun sensed something wrong, rushed over to steady her, her body swaying violently.