Chapter 414

"You guys really shouldn't have come…" Fan Wuchang looked at us with a complex expression, sighed softly, his sigh filled with too much helplessness and reluctance, and in an instant it vanished into the cool night breeze.

Translation...

Fan Wuchang's tall and straight figure stood upright in the wind, his back to us. At this moment, countless lackeys had already come up from downstairs, surrounding us and Pangzi in a three-sided formation.

Fan Wuchang didn't answer me, merely muttering to himself with his back to us.

"If only you could heed my advice. If you had left Aomen this morning, you wouldn't have gotten mixed up in this muddy water. If…" The dark night specter had lost its former indifference to human life, its sighing voice like that of an elderly person, filled with too much helplessness and fatigue,

"Life isn't full of 'ifs'; there are only results and consequences! Having come this far, everyone must face it." Pangzi stepped forward and spoke slowly.

He looked at Fan Wuchang and said: "I just don't understand, I don't understand why you would do this! Although our time together was short, I know you, Fan Wuchang, are a man who stands tall and firm. Why would you kill so many innocent people, creating atrocities that even beasts would scorn and that heaven cannot tolerate?"

A flicker of struggle crossed Fan Wuchang's face, but soon he hid it; he gave Pangzi a complex look, gritted his teeth and said: "You saved me under the paper-man's blade; I, Fan Wuchang, owe you my life. Once this is over, I will go to the Yinjian Difu to apologize to you!"

Having said that, Fan Wuchang gritted his teeth and slowly blew the jade flute.

As the flute sounded, an eerie melody echoed through the silent night sky—a chant similar to the Burning Text, yet unlike the Burning Text that is famed for calming the mind. Fan Wuchang's flute was filled with an uncanny quality that made one's blood run cold and unsettled the spirit.

Halfway through the flute's melody, a foul fishy smell suddenly spread through the air, accompanied by a hissing serpent-tongue sound that echoed faintly; the air rippled and twisted, and the snake infant's body slowly appeared beside Fan Wuchang.

Now I understand; at this moment I finally realized. No wonder when the snake infant appeared, I and Pangzi would run into Fan Wuchang nearby. That long, hard object I touched that night wasn't a gun but this jade flute. The strange sound I heard in the alley was actually the flute controlling the snake infant.

When the snake infant appeared, its gloomy green pupils swept over us malignantly; when its gaze passed over Little Fat, a flicker of fear flashed in its snake eyes, but within moments that fear was replaced by surging resentment.

Fan Wuchang's flute seemed to possess some mysterious power; as the flute shifted from slow to urgent, the snake infant's resentment surged, until eventually a choking miasma enveloped its body. Looking into its eyes, I saw only ruthless killing intent, with no other emotion.

"Pangzi… you and Chen Mo deal with these lackeys; I'll handle the snake infant." I said harshly, then made a snap decision and charged at the snake infant.

"By the command of the Yin Mountain Elder Ancestor, the Ghost Immortal Great Emperor, and the Three Demon True Sovereigns personally arriving, bearing the sealed edict to the altar, disciples hold the order to open the Ghost Gate; ox-headed and horse-faced spirits make way, sending disciples down to the Nine Abysses; the disciples' banner gathers hellfire, which burns evil demons and monsters so they cannot be reborn…"

Yin Mountain fire is also called hellfire.

In the mortal world there are ordinary fire and true fire, and also hellfire that specially burns sins. The hellfire of the Yin Mountain Dharma differs from the ordinary Daoist samadhi true fire; it specifically burns the karmic debt of the red lotus, and regardless of righteous or wicked, anyone with sin will be completely consumed by hellfire.

Moreover, the snake infant's body is heavy with malevolent and foul qi, bearing countless lives on its back, its sins immense; thus hellfire is its greatest bane.

But when I had exhausted my magical power and finally managed to gather a wisp of dark-gray flame in my hand, a sudden sharp pain shot through my shoulder, as if a huge stone had plummeted from the sky and slammed down on me.

In that staggering moment, the wisp of flame in my hand also vanished into the wind.

I lifted my head, and my expression instantly turned to one of wanting to cry but unable to shed tears. Not far ahead, the chubby Little Fat stood with fierce determination, locked in battle with the snake infant whose killing intent shot up to the heavens.

Just a moment ago, Little Fat actually used my shoulder as a springboard, stepping on it to jump.

To dare treat one's master as a springboard—you truly are a freak of nature. While my body went limp, I couldn't help but laugh and cry at the same time.

Yin Mountain fire demands a very precise fusion of mind and magical power, for this fire is overbearing and fierce; gathering even a wisp of true fire has nearly drained all my magical power. I had originally hoped to kill the snake infant with a single strike, but now I can only rely on Little Fat.

Although Little Fat and the snake infant were locked in a hard-fought stalemate, taking on a major foe for us, even so the pressure on our side was not light.

Because this enemy is fundamentally different from the usual opponents we face; even Pangzi, who has trained in internal martial arts, finds it tricky, extremely tricky.

As I watched Pangzi forced to retreat repeatedly, worn out from dealing with them, I rushed forward to lend a hand; just as I wondered why Pangzi still hadn't settled them, I immediately sensed something was wrong.

These lackeys' bodies are so stiff that every movement is like an iron plate, and they feel no pain; punches landing on them draw blood yet they show no expression, not a hint of suffering.

A gentle breeze blew, lifting the bangs of one of the lackeys, and on their forehead appeared a small black mole the size of a soybean.

In an instant, my mind rang with a roar, and a terrifying possibility surfaced.

This matter is related to Ou Yaofeng's master—the one who personally killed his own disciple and then sent insect-raised corpses to seek revenge on us.

Aren't these black moles on the lackeys' foreheads exactly the sign of insect-raised corpses?

If such a person truly exists, then this matter is likely far more complicated than I imagined.

At this moment, Fan Wuchang seemed to have grown impatient; his eyes turned cold, his hands rested on his waist, his aura paused abruptly, and then his hand moved.

A flash of icy light sliced toward Little Fat; at the critical moment, I wanted to warn him but it was already too late—I could only watch helplessly as that silver gleam grazed him.

Fan Wuchang's saber is a weapon heavy with killing intent, and it seems to have been further ritually refined; it slashed a huge gash across Little Fat's arm. Startled, Little Fat covered the wound and staggered back, running to my side.

Not long after, the battle there ended; Chen Mo, being a girl and encountering insect-raised corpses for the first time, soon had her strength drained by those monsters, and within a single breath she was seized alive by one of them.

After Chen Mo was captured, Pangzi, who had been at a disadvantage, panicked; several insect-raised corpses drove him back repeatedly, beating him until his whole body was covered in wounds.

The remaining insect-raised corpses encircled me and Pangzi tightly; although they did not strike again, they firmly kept us within a certain range.

Fan Wuchang approached Chen Mo slowly with the snake infant, glanced at her still struggling on the ground, sighed, and said in a low voice: "For your sister-in-law, I'm sorry."

Having said that, he picked up the jade flute, about to blow it to control the snake infant and seize souls.

"Hold on, Brother Wuchang, you've been deceived… you and Brother Zheng have both been deceived; he isn't extending your sister-in-law's life at all—he's setting up an evil formation to refine her into a Nine Heavens Maiden, which is an evil ghost, a deity that heaven cannot tolerate." At the critical moment, I actually shouted these words at Fan Wuchang.

It seemed fated in the dark; I, flushed with frustration, blurted it out without knowing why I said such things—perhaps intuition, perhaps spiritual insight. Yet the instant I spoke, I shuddered awake, as if… this might not be impossible after all.

From the day I first met the Chen Zheng couple, Murong Jiaojiao told me that Chen Zheng was using his own life to extend Dong Yumin's life. If such a person truly existed, he would tell Chen Zheng that he could prolong Dong Yumin's life, but he must lay out this formation and gather twelve lives. Given Chen Zheng's character, he would certainly do so without hesitation.

Because in Chen Zheng's heart, no number of lives outweighs Dong Yumin.

"What are you saying? How do you know about life extension, and why do you claim he isn't extending his sister-in-law's life but harming her—what's going on?" Fan Wuchang's expression shifted; his cold eyes locked onto me as he asked.

In this tense moment, I forced myself to stay calm. For I knew that only by convincing Fan Wuchang would Chen Mo have a slim chance. Whether true or false, even nonsense would do. In short, the urgent task is to make Fan Wuchang doubtful, best to have him fully believe us. Only then can we uncover the conspiracy hidden behind.

Thinking of this, I slowly recounted to Fan Wuchang the matter of the Seven Stars Sharing Life, and told him that I had long known about Chen Zheng exchanging lives for Dong Yumin, but I had simply kept it hidden and never spoken.

After I spoke of the life extension, Fan Wuchang's face finally showed a slight shift; then, when I mentioned the Nine Heavens Maiden, his expression changed dramatically.

"Release them…" Fan Wuchang ordered the lackeys all around who had turned into insect-raised corpses.

Pangzi and I involuntarily exhaled, thinking we had finally escaped the tiger's jaws and had saved Chen Mo's life.

But soon, our hearts, which had just relaxed, clenched again. Not only me, even the usually cold-hearted Fan Wuchang was stunned.

Because the lackeys who used to obey his orders obediently now ignored his commands, and moreover many insect-raised corpses had already moved to attack us.

"I told you to let them go—didn't you hear me?" Fan Wuchang flew into a rage, shoving the nearest lackey hard. Yet that lackey remained like a wooden puppet, ignoring Fan Wuchang's words. The snake infant hovering beside Fan Wuchang began to bewilder Chen Mo, attempting to seize her soul.

Fan Wuchang is no fool; he instantly sensed something was wrong. He hastily blew the jade flute, intending to stop the soul‑snatching snake infant.

Fan Wuchang's flute worked well; after just a brief blow, the snake infant immediately retreated. But soon the snake infant clutched its head and writhed in agony on the ground. This shows that besides Fan Wuchang, someone else is controlling the snake infant, and they are vying for dominance over it.

Suddenly, as I wearied from fending off the insect-raised corpses, I caught sight of a black‑clad figure swiftly flashing behind Fan Wuchang, drawing a glinting cold‑light object and stabbing it into his waist.

"Be careful…" Pangzi and I involuntarily cried out.

With a puff, the blade entered flesh. Fan Wuchang's eyes widened, he lowered his head, and in disbelief stared at his abdomen; right in the center of his belly a dagger had pierced in, its blade still dripping bright, vivid red blood.