Chapter 2714: The Psycho City Lord's Love-and-Kill Rule 38

Jin Chen fully understood the principle of eradicating the root.

Although the National Teacher was defeated, his followers and potential threats remained, leaving endless future troubles.

He was not a soft-hearted person; with the National Teacher still wounded and unhealed, it was the perfect time to eliminate future troubles forever.

Meanwhile, Fu Lingjing was still racking his brains over how to rejoin the National Teacher's remnants and contend with Jin Chen, unaware that Jin Chen acted even faster.

The National Teacher, already gravely injured in his vital energy, was found by Jin Chen that very night.

Jin Chen lingered outside the window of the National Teacher's Hall; through the gauze, he could see the National Teacher slumped on a soft couch, breath faint, while several close disciples fed him Spiritual Power and pills, but to little effect.

"Master, that Jin Chen…" a disciple trembled as he spoke, but before he could finish, the National Teacher's fierce glare cut him off.

"Trash! All trash!" the National Teacher's hoarse voice shouted as he coughed violently, spitting out several mouthfuls of black blood: "If not for that variable… how could my grand plan…"

Madness flashed in her eyes as she seized the wrist of the disciple beside her, "Even if I must give everything…"

Her words were cut short.

Jin Chen stood in the center of the inner hall, his moon-white long robe glowing coldly in the candlelight.

"You…!"

The National Teacher's pupils shrank sharply, horrified to the point of nearly falling from the couch.

The disciples beside her were even more terrified, their souls fleeing; the clatter of weapons being drawn rang out, yet none dared step forward.

Jin Chen kindly asked, "Guess what I'm here to do."

National Teacher: "……"

Those disciples stood like wooden chickens, watching the Master perish in an instant, with no chance to resist.

And Jin Chen snatched… from Bai Ze…

The long-awaited welfare storehouse finally saw use.

【This, this can be used.】 Ling Gun Gun rummaged through various treasures, pulling out a bead, 【Clang! Myriad Phenomena Tracing Shadow Pearl!】

That night, all cultivators and extraordinary individuals in the capital, regardless of sect or skill level, fell into the same suffocating dream while asleep.

In the dream, Ghost City was forcibly razed, and countless ghosts broke free to pour into the human realm.

The sky was dyed ink‑black by resentment, the earth cracked, living beings suffered, the capital instantly turned into a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, wails filled the wilds— the living were either devoured or twisted and mutated in extreme terror…

That was exactly the horrifying scene from the original plot where the human realm fell into purgatory.

At dawn, the fear brought by the dream had not yet faded, and the news of the National Teacher's death and disappearance of his Dao had already spread.

This time, no one dared to step forward and blame Jin Chen; even in private, many muttered that the National Teacher deserved to die.

All blamed her for inciting the crowd, which nearly caused a great disaster, stepping into the aftermath of the dream.

Fu Lingjing stood outside the now owner‑less National Teacher's Hall, his face ashen, cursing the reduced‑to‑ashes National Teacher a thousand times as trash in his heart.

Reluctantly, he saw several of the National Teacher's original close disciples panicking, whispering furtively in hurried conversation.

"Is this true?" one asked urgently.

"Absolutely certain! Hurry, hurry to the Hall of Nurturing Heart!" another said in a rushed tone.

Not long after, an even more shocking piece of news spread throughout the palace.

The old emperor had passed away, but within half an hour he actually opened his eyes again, his body, previously exhausted like a burnt‑out lamp, seeming to have just recovered from a serious illness.

When the news reached Jin Chen, he only allowed Chu Jiu Shan to wait outside, forbidding anyone from disturbing him.

Inside the room, Jin Chen tightly held Yin Chaosheng, who had been fine just moments before, his expression grave.

He probed Yin Chaosheng's interior with Primordial Spiritual Power, discovering that the ghostly energy was vanishing at breakneck speed, and along with it his soul had become extraordinarily fragile— a slight mishap would cause it to scatter completely.

Jin Chen's eyes darkened as he firmly guarded Yin Chaosheng's soul from scattering.

"It hurts…"

Yin Chaosheng curled up in his embrace, trembling all over, as if being burned by an invisible hellfire.

His skin burned hot; touching anything provoked a piercing, heart‑rending pain, and even stripping off his clothes only eased it slightly.

Only in Jin Chen's embrace could he obtain a mere drop of comfort in a burning cart.

Jin Chen held him tighter until Spiritual Power and ghostly energy gradually balanced, after which the bone‑deep pain in Yin Chaosheng's body eased somewhat.

Yin Chaosheng understood why this was so; after the spasms, he rubbed his cheek against Jin Chen's neck, blood‑tinged tears seeping from the corners of his eyes, his voice broken.

"I am truly unfortunate, Jin Chen…"

Yin Chaosheng lifted his head, trembling as he kissed Jin Chen's lip corner, "I have squandered several hundred years of merit to gain this mortal life, yet I only get to meet you for such a brief time…"

Each word he spoke carried a bloody scent, the more he spoke the worse he felt, yet upon reflection, if the previous decade or so of inhuman torment could be exchanged for meeting and loving Jin Chen, it seemed… not entirely a loss.

But…

"Too short." he murmured, tears soaking Jin Chen's collar.

Yin Chaosheng was terrified, fearing that if he loosened Jin Chen's hand, he would completely dissipate between heaven and earth.

Jin Chen felt heartbroken beyond measure, gently wiping the blood‑tinged tears from the corner of his eye with his fingertip, "Your merit is exhausted, forcibly lingering in the mortal realm, your soul will gradually fade… isn't that so?"

Regret welled up in his heart; had he known this, he would never have allowed Yin Chaosheng to come to the mortal realm.

Yet Yin Chaosheng chuckled, still as unpredictable as ever, a thread of blood seeping from the corner of his lips.

"But in the mortal realm… I can actually feel your warmth, and that's good."

"I originally wanted… to kill you." Yin Chaosheng rasped, then pecked his lip, "But I can't bear to see you die."

Jin Chen leaned down, kissed away the blood at his lip corner, and gently stroked his back, "Don't be afraid, I won't let you dissipate."

Over the next three days, Jin Chen never left his side, using Primordial Spiritual Power to stabilize Yin Chaosheng's soul, and laying layer upon layer of barriers around his residence to shut out outside interference.

Only after confirming that Yin Chaosheng's condition had temporarily stabilized did he relax slightly and step out of the room.

Liu Shuoyue, waiting outside, saw Jin Chen's expression bland yet his brows furrowed with coldness, vaguely guessing what had happened, and did not press further.

Just as they would feel unwell from lingering yin energy after staying too long in Ghost City, Yin Chaosheng, as a Ghost King lingering in the mortal realm, would likely pay an even heavier price.

Zang Huaian informed Jin Chen in detail of the changes that had occurred in the palace over those three days.

After the old emperor died and was resurrected, his temperament changed drastically; he swept away his former stupidity and corruption, becoming decisive and vigorous, and secretly summoned the remaining disciples of the former National Master's Hall, unknown what he was plotting.

Ling Gun Gun also reminded in the sea of consciousness: 【Host, the Subduing Ice Mirror has defected to the resurrected emperor; strange, does he have some mission?】

Jin Chen's eyes flashed with a cold light, he said no more, flicked his sleeve and rushed straight to the Hall of Mental Cultivation where the emperor was.

Outside the Hall of Mental Cultivation, guards stood in rows, the atmosphere stern and lethal.

Moreover, dozens of disciples dressed in the robes of the National Master's Hall stood guard, eyes wary; seeing Jin Chen approach directly, they stepped forward to block him.

"Halt! His Majesty is resting; no idle persons may enter!"

Jin Chen had not drawn his sword; relying solely on his fierce palm wind, he struck down the three disciples charging at the front.

Fresh blood spattered onto the vermilion palace wall.

The remaining people were cowed by his killing intent, their faces showing fear, and none dared to step forward again.

Jin Chen stepped through the blood pool, under the fearful gazes of the crowd, step by step advancing like a life‑taking asura straight into the Hall of Mental Cultivation.