Chapter 114: When a Man Dies, He Becomes a Ghost

Xi Yi Xian Sheng Zhen Jun? What is that?

Ning Zhe didn’t understand why his grandmother had reacted so strongly after hearing Ji Taimei’s story, so he first reached out to steady her trembling body, one hand pressing against her back to feel her heartbeat through his palm.

“Grandma, what’s wrong?” Ning Zhe asked with concern.

Ji Taimei’s grandmother was small and frail; her advanced age had caused her bones to show signs of atrophy, and her physique was not strong—such an elderly person, if shocked beyond a certain point, could die outright from fright.

The evidence proved Ning Zhe’s fears were justified.

He didn’t know what “Xi Yi Xian Sheng Zhen Jun” meant to his grandmother, but from her shaking shoulders, Ning Zhe could sense she was terrified beyond measure—her back convulsed, her throat gurgled with a hoarse, rasping sound, like food stuck in her throat.

The hand resting on her back felt no further heartbeat.

The old woman’s heart had stopped.

“...Grandma?” Ning Zhe’s expression turned grave. One hand supported her frail shoulder, the other pressed his fingers against her neck vein, checking again and again. The body was still warm, but her chest held no pulse, no heartbeat.

She was truly dead.

“What happened to Grandma?” Ji Taimei’s younger sister, Yin Li, asked softly, her voice trembling.

Ning Zhe turned his head and saw Yin Li’s face, covered in red blotches and acne, her dull eyes still timidly fixed on him, her pupils unfocused, curious. “Can’t you see?” Ning Zhe asked.

Yin Li shook her head: “My eyes are bad—I can’t see clearly. Brother, what happened to Grandma?”

“She’s dead,” Ning Zhe said casually. “Do you know what ‘Xi Yi Xian Sheng Zhen Jun’ is? She reacted strongly to it.”

“That’s the Land God’s name,” Yin Li replied, her unfocused eyes puzzled as she looked at Ning Zhe. “Don’t you remember? The Land God’s full title is [Taiwei Xi Yi Xian Sheng Zhen Jun Wei Wu Zhen Ling Da Di].”

“What the hell kind of name… I really don’t remember.” Ning Zhe closed his eyes, took a slow breath, then opened them again. “Let’s take Grandma home first.”

“Okay,” Yin Li nodded obediently, reaching out to tug at Ning Zhe’s sleeve.

Her vision was terrible—she had to hold someone’s hand to avoid losing them, but Ning Zhe now held his grandmother’s body with both arms, so she could only grip his clothing.

Ning Zhe bent down, lifted his grandmother’s corpse into his arms, and turned to retrace their steps. As he walked, he whispered in a voice only he could hear: “Nianjun.”

Before the words had fully left his lips, a figure in red makeup appeared directly before him. He Nianjun raised her delicate, milky-white hand and held out a yellow almanac before Ning Zhe:

[Lunar May 29]

[Auspicious: Nothing is auspicious]

[Inauspicious: Planting, Sacrifice, Trade, Burial]

“Damn.” Ning Zhe was startled. From the moment he gained the rules of She Shen Zhao You, this was the first time he’d encountered “Nothing is auspicious.” He had called He Nianjun to see what was favorable today, hoping to improve his luck—but this almanac crushed any illusion of boosting fortune through Zhao You. This time, opening the almanac gave him nothing but a few restrictive taboos.

“Huh?” Yin Li widened her eyes in confusion, loosening her grip on Ning Zhe’s sleeve to rub them hard.

Just as Ning Zhe was grappling with the “Nothing is auspicious” entry, a pale, paper-white hue suddenly entered his vision—a lifeless, elderly face appearing abruptly at He Nianjun’s feet.

Ning Zhe instinctively stepped back. A skull, hair wild and tangled, emerged from nowhere, its neck trailing blood vessels and lymph tissue, attached to a spine of pure white bone and twelve complete pairs of human ribs.

It was a serpent of white bone, streaked with crimson veins, its wrinkled face twisted with malice, coiling upward along He Nianjun’s legs, its sharp ribs—like spider’s pincers—biting into her body wrapped in a bridal gown, crackling, crackling.

The bone serpent climbed onto He Nianjun’s shoulder, its venomous gaze brimming with hatred for the whole. It opened a black mouth, its few remaining teeth sinking toward her tender neck.

Without hesitation, without pause, Ji Taimei’s tall, slender teenage form seamlessly shifted into that of a mature woman clad in a deep purple dress. Ning Zhe lifted one foot and lightly pressed it to the ground.

More precisely—he stepped on the shadow of the bone serpent.

As Ning Zhe’s shadow touched the serpent’s shadow, the rule of “Te Rang” activated. The pale face’s black mouth, moments from gnashing into He Nianjun’s neck, dissolved into a wisp of smoke.

As the instant-death rule of Te Rang triggered, Ning Zhe heard a mournful, venomous, furious wail—echoing faintly from beyond distant mountains. The bone serpent writhed, spasmed, its white joints cracking, then vanished entirely.

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At the same time, Feng Yushu’s body reverted to Ji Taimei’s form.

A long description—but all of this happened in the blink of an eye, too fast for Yin Li beside him to notice her brother had changed form and changed back. Ning Zhe held his grandmother’s corpse, heart still pounding.

“What was that just now?”

Ning Zhe had seen clearly—the bone serpent’s face bore no scars, its eyes were not gouged out with nails, its ears were not stuffed with clay, its lips were not sewn shut with thread. It was not a Land God.

Where had the serpent come from? Why had no one noticed it before?

Besides the Land God in the village’s temple, were there other bone serpents in the village?

How could this strange creature directly touch a ghost—“Zhao You”—that existed only in his own vision?

A flood of questions, overwhelming in volume, crashed upon him. Even Ning Zhe, for a moment, felt lost and bewildered—but something even more shocking was yet to come.

For after Te Rang killed the bone serpent, the corpse in his arms suddenly moved.

Thump. Thump. A strong, steady heartbeat pulsed from the old woman’s chest. Ji Taimei’s grandmother struggled to open her eyes, murmuring: “Good grandson… you’ve angered Xi Yi Xian Sheng Zhen Jun…”

Yes, yes—this village was the domain of [Taiwei Xi Yi Xian Sheng Zhen Jun Wei Wu Zhen Ling Da Di].

Here, there is no “death.”

(End of Chapter)