Chapter 293: Chapter Thirty-Six: The Land of Tianlu, the Tai Lao Sacrifice to the Dragon, the Wuhe Jian Wind Poison

The white bone tree beneath their feet was deeply eerie, its trunk twisted like several bone dragons coiled together. Following the dragon's spine, one could spiral upward; at the branching point, by traversing the branch stretching straight across the gorge, they could cross the air above the chasm.

Xiao Yu had climbed halfway when he suddenly drew his head back and asked the old Daoist solemnly, "Did you see anything just now?"

The old Daoist, absorbed in examining the feng shui, replied, "I've been watching the surroundings closely—there was no disturbance just now."

Xiao Yu frowned. "Then why did I just feel a cold draft behind my neck, like someone was blowing icy breath onto it?"

"Though I lack the Yin-Yang Eyes, if a ghost were truly clinging to your back, I'd surely sense it. Moreover, haven't you noticed how strange the feng shui of this white bone tree is?" the old Daoist changed the subject.

"This should be one of the six feng shui treasure sites…" Xiao Yu mused. "But treasure sites receive the celestial qi of sun, moon, and stars above, and draw forth the earth's vital energy below—places like this always leave traces!"

The old Daoist nodded. "Wind gathers qi, water rises from wind—hence the name 'feng shui treasure site.'"

"But look at this place…"

Xiao Yu looked down: the cliff's edge behind them was razor-sharp, dark and gloomy, radiating a sharp, menacing aura. Below, the gorge's branches were chaotic, brimming with malevolent energy—utterly lacking the solid, grounded mountain form one expects.

The white bone tree stood at the cliff's edge, giving the impression of imminent collapse.

"This terrain is a cliff formation—high and perilous, half of it hanging empty. Earth qi and dragon veins thrive on weight and depth! Here, the earth qi simply cannot be retained. Moreover, this place is swept by bitter yin winds, howling like ghostly wails—no celestial qi can linger. As for water veins, that blood river below looks utterly vicious; even Master wouldn't dare lead us across it."

Though Xiao Yu was only half-versed in yin-yang qi observation, he could plainly see this place's feng shui was abysmal.

"Then why is this place ranked alongside Yin Yang Pond, Golden Mountain Lotus Pool, and Fishing Toad Ground? How could a terrestrial immortal be buried here?" the old Daoist wondered aloud, as if asking Xiao Yu—or himself.

Brother Qian Chen, walking ahead, spoke softly: "Perhaps this terrestrial immortal was of unusual status?"

At that moment, a flash of insight struck the old Daoist: "Ghost King! Ghost King! Of course—this isn't a corpse buried here, but a soul…" The old Daoist suddenly looked up, staring at the human skins hanging from the branches, fluttering in the yin wind.

Each skin was covered in dark red, ancient vermilion talismans.

They drifted in the air, flapping in the wind like limbs waving. Then the old Daoist noticed something chilling: they had walked so far, nearly reaching the gorge's exact center, yet the human skins all around still faced them.

As if they had been watching their group all along.

"This isn't a tomb!" the old Daoist warned Xiao Yu and the others. "This is an altar!"

He turned to look back at the cliff—and indeed, the precipice was steep, resembling a towering altar, its peak crowned by the white bone tree.

"That cliff is the altar. This white bone tree is the shrine—the 'She' tree."

"An altar? But wasn't this said to be the burial site of a terrestrial immortal?" Xiao Yu asked, bewildered.

The old Daoist trembled. "A terrestrial immortal… only those with physical corpses buried are called terrestrial immortals. A Ghost King is born from a soul after death—how could a Ghost King cultivate into a terrestrial immortal? Unless…"

Xiao Yu, seeing the old Daoist's caution, lowered his voice: "Unless what?"

"Unless that Ghost King has already become a spirit-god, possessing a physical form. Here, they buried its Golden Body. A Ghost King's Golden Body is equivalent to Buddhist relics. This place interred a dead god—earth qi alone cannot refine a Golden Body into a terrestrial immortal."

"Such a terrestrial immortal body walks simultaneously on the path of the spirit and the path of the divine—it cultivates to become a terrestrial immortal."

"The white bone dragon tree is the Ghost King's coffin. It used the tree as its sarcophagus, burying its Golden Body within the wood. Those human skins…" the old Daoist shuddered. "They are offerings. In ancient times, emperors were buried with loyal servants who volunteered as sacrifices; in the middle ages, feudal lords used humans as figurines, refining their enemies and subordinates into clay effigies. Today, even noble families can only use straw men and dog effigies; emperors use clay figurines; common folk burn paper men!"

"But this Ghost King used the skins of fierce ghosts!"

"These ghosts were terrifyingly violent. Humans are buried with clay effigies; ghosts require demonic skins. The ferocity, resentment, cultivation, and malevolence of these demons are sealed within their skins. There are thousands of these skins here—how many demons were skinned alive? Even ghosts would be terrified to see this!"

"Could this be the burial site of the Ghost King of the Black Mountain Ghost Nation beyond the seas—or the Yin Mountain Ghost Nation?"

Xiao Yu turned to gaze at the fluttering 'human skins' and whispered, "You mean… these skins were peeled from demons?"

Lei Yu and others nearby heard this. He immediately turned to examine the nearest skin: it fluttered in the wind, gray-white and wrinkled, utterly poreless, its substance clearly not flesh.

It did carry a faint ghostly aura.

Lei Yu had always assumed these skins were magically refined from living humans—but now he realized they were not taken from living people at all.

To these cultivators, mortals were as ants. If needed, they could easily manufacture thousands of human skins and hang them on trees. Even if they hesitated, it was only because they feared the skins might come from cultivators who had intruded here.

But no one had imagined the true origin of these skins was so horrifying.

Humans and ghosts are separate paths. Human skin is already a demonic artifact; ghost skin is a taboo.

Among noble families and even solitary cultivators, a legend circulates widely: it is said that wearing ghost skin can deceive fate, replacing one's yang lifespan with a ghost's yin lifespan. By continually changing skins, one can live eternally as a ghost.

Yet despite how long this legend has endured, few have ever seen true ghost skin—and none can verify it.

How can one peel the skin from a spirit, which has no physical form?

Even Tao Kan was stunned by this discovery. He glanced secretly at the green ox, who shook his massive head and whispered, "These ghost skins—the cuts aren't from the Moon Demon's handiwork; they're not forbidden by demonic arts. But they must originate from the underworld, from the hands of the God of Punishment…"

"Only the Yin Bureau's gods, who inflict cruel tortures upon evil ghosts, understand the art of flaying. Only the punishments of the Eighteen Levels of Hell can be applied to a ghost's form. Only the judges of yin and yang know these methods."

The old Daoist whispered: "Earlier on the path, I saw three hills with exquisite formations. One sat at Jia-Chou, its shape gentle and soft, radiating verdant qi like a reclining ox. Another stood at Ji-Wei, its terrain elegant, though small, its earth qi dense and heavy, resembling a horned yellow goat. The last stood at Xin-Hai, its form broad and fat, like a granary."

"I was puzzled—these three small hills each had perfect formations: Ox Sleep Ground, Three Yang Spot, and Tian Peng Position—each governing fortune, longevity, and talent. Ox Sleep Ground grants enduring blessings; Three Yang Spot extends yin lifespan; Tian Peng Position grants heavenly talent, accelerating cultivation."

Seeing the solitary cultivators half-understanding, the old Daoist explained: "Simply put: if ancestors are buried in Ox Sleep Ground, descendants gain abundant fortune and sudden luck. Buried in Three Yang Spot, the tomb owner gains extended yin lifespan, and descendants gain extended yang lifespan. Buried in Tian Peng Position, heavenly talent—the very quality for cultivation—is enhanced, accelerating progress!"

Fortune, lifespan, talent!

Everyone's eyes instantly glowed with faint green light. Some even turned to head back and bury themselves in those three hills.

Even Ma Laohei couldn't resist stepping forward to whisper: "Master, is this true?"

The old Daoist frowned. "I never lie."

Ma Laohei slapped his thigh in regret. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? I'd have given you half my wealth! Now, just quietly tell me where those three feng shui treasure sites are…"

Brother Qian Chen frowned. "You still have at least sixty years left—why bury yourself now?"

Ma Laohei sighed. "I have no hope of achieving the Dao in this life—why not secure a future for my descendants? My youngest son has decent talent, but poor fortune. If I'm buried in Ox Sleep Ground, perhaps he'll have a chance at Core Formation!"

Ma Laohei pointed to the other solitary cultivators and smiled bitterly. "Don't think it's just me—look, how many are tempted? We solitary cultivators have no path forward. Burying ourselves in a feng shui treasure site to leave our descendants ancestral blessings is the only way out."

Tao Kan tiptoed to look back and saw one unremarkable hill whose terrain clearly matched Ox Sleep Ground. He activated his qi observation technique, entered meditation for a long while, and indeed saw three streams of green, yellow, and golden qi rising ahead.

Lei Yu had quietly joined him, feigning casualness: "I've heard, Master Tao, that in your youth you once found an Ox Sleep Ground yourself. You must be more skilled in feng shui—could you discern any subtleties here?"

Tao Kan's expression was complex. He sighed. "It truly is Ox Sleep Ground."

Tao Kan shook his head repeatedly. "In feng shui, I'm far inferior to that old Daoist. He spotted the three treasure sites on the way; I passed right by them and didn't notice. How can I claim to understand feng shui?"

"Truly Ox Sleep Ground?" Lei Yu turned to the green ox. He knew Tao Kan's childhood tale: when young, Tao Kan's ox had lain down to sleep, and a master had revealed the hidden treasure site.

He also knew the legend was exaggerated—the green ox was a spirit beast raised by the Tao family, born with the innate ability to sense qi. Tao Kan merely herded a spirit beast—he didn't need anyone's guidance. But why, this time, didn't the ox lie down?

Tao Kan also turned to look at the green ox.

The green ox used its ears as a fan, swatting away the unpleasant aura around it. Seeing Tao Kan stare, it rolled its eyes and telepathed: "Tao kid, you're trying to sacrifice me!"

Tao Kan immediately bowed. "Why would you say that, Spirit Master? You're my elder—I'd never dare disrespect you!"

Meanwhile, the old Daoist shook his head at Ma Laohei. "Earlier, I might have dared to mark a spot for you. But now that I know the secret of the Dragon Tree, I dare not lead you to ruin."

He pointed. "Feng shui treasure sites are ruthless. A dragon spot or treasure spot drains all spiritual energy from its surroundings, leaving only ordinary land. Have you ever heard of two dragons sharing one pond?"

Ma Laohei blinked. "Master, you mean—"

The old Daoist bowed toward Brother Qian Chen's back and smiled wryly. "Master, your disciple showed off! Earlier, Master burned incense beneath the tree—his ritual was a sacrificial method. I assumed Master was offering to this strange white bone tree, especially since this place is one of the six feng shui marvels. But nearby, there were three other perfect treasure spots—which confused me."

"Then Master gave me a hint: the owner of this place is extraordinary. Connecting that with his sacrificial ritual, I realized—he wasn't offering to the tree, but to the Ghost King's Golden Body within it."

"This place is a unique spot—the Dragon-Forming Site!"

"The cliff is the altar. The bone tree is the shrine. Thousands of ghost skins serve as offerings. Before the altar, ten thousand zombies pay homage. Most crucially—the three offerings… This spot uses white bones as a coffin, refining them into a dragon. Then, it turns back to devour the three sacrificial animals beneath the altar!"

"The Jia-Chou Ox Sleep Ground, Ji-Wei Three Yang Spot, Xin-Hai Tian Peng Position—these are the ox, the goat, and the pig. Three sacrificial animals together form a Tai Lao offering—these are the gifts presented to the Dragon Bone Tree. All their vitality and spiritual energy are offered to the Ghost King's Golden Body."

"Thus, the earth qi here is strange—because the true earth qi and vitality are hidden within the three spiritual spots, channeled via sacrifice to the Ghost King."

"The mastermind behind this site artificially created a feng shui treasure spot. He noticed the three nearby spiritual spots, realized their combined energy far surpassed their individual effects, and understood ordinary earth qi was unfit to bury a spirit-god."

"So he carved an altar above the gorge, using countless white bones as a coffin, erecting the Dragon Bone Tree as a She altar. He used ghost skins as offerings, zombies as worshippers, creating a grand scene of ten thousand undead paying homage. Finally, he shaped the tree into a dragon, established the Tai Lao Dragon Sacrifice, drained all the earth qi from the three spiritual spots, and forged the Dragon Tree formation!"

The old Daoist trembled, his eyes filled with awe for the architect. "What kind of skill is this? To defy heaven and alter fate? No—this is stealing heaven's opportunity! Heaven has five thieves; those who see them prosper. If sages do not die, great thieves never cease! This is the method of sages stealing heaven's creation!"

At this, Brother Qian Chen's face held a faint, enigmatic smile. The old Daoist suddenly realized: "Of course—Master has seen through the mystery of this place. His mastery of feng shui and yin-yang arts must rival that man's!"

The green ox rolled its eyes. "Sucking up… But that man was ruthless! At first glance, I nearly died of fright… If I lay down here, I'd be the sacrifice!"

Ma Laohei sighed. "So… these three treasure spots are ruined?"

"Not just ruined—they're deadly." The old Daoist warned. "To be buried there is to offer yourself as a sacrifice to the Ghost King. Your fate depends entirely on how the Ghost King chooses to treat you."

"But judging by this…" the old Daoist turned to gaze at the thousands of fluttering ghost skins and sighed. "That Ghost King's nature…." He shuddered, refusing to say more.

"White bones as coffin, bronze as sarcophagus!" Brother Qian Chen stomped on the white bone tree and smiled. "Would you like to see the bronze divine tree beneath these bones?"

The old Daoist shuddered and hastily refused. "No, no!"

Xiao Yu glanced with his Yin-Yang Eyes at a crack high in the bone dragon tree—and saw something so terrifying his face twisted in horror. He frantically shook his head at Brother Qian Chen.

Brother Qian Chen smiled coldly and walked straight ahead. "Then hurry up!"

"Follow!" the old Daoist told Dage.

A solitary cultivator behind begged: "Please, fellow cultivator, guide me to a feng shui treasure site!"

The old Daoist halted, shook his head. "You're still young—why rush to die?"

The cultivator sighed. "Fate, luck, feng shui, merit, and study—these are the five ways to accumulate blessings for descendants. We solitary cultivators have shallow fate, our descendants' luck is ordinary. We've accumulated no merit, no ancestral scriptures, no inherited Dao lineage—only feng shui can give us a foundation."

"Though this place is perilous, its feng shui treasure sites are countless—that's the greatest advantage."

"I am at the Mid-Level of Foundation Establishment. My cultivation methods lack depth, and my path is blocked. For the sake of my descendants, I must do this." He removed his Qiankun bag from his waist and offered it to the old Daoist. "I know this wealth is far too meager to repay your guidance—but I vow to accumulate nine hundred merits in the netherworld for you. Please, guide me to a safe spot!"

The old Daoist turned to seek Brother Qian Chen's approval—but saw only his retreating back.

A distant voice floated back: "Three hundred is enough."

The old Daoist bowed slightly toward Brother Qian Chen's back, then turned. "Accumulate three hundred merits for me." The cultivator beamed, took the jade talisman offered, and immediately turned, walking without looking back into the white bone corpse land.

The group pressed forward, now directly above the gorge. Ahead lay a murky, yellow haze—even Brother Qian Chen's back was hard to see. Only then did they hear his message: "Ahead lies the Yu Jiuyou Yin Wind, mixed with earth yin poison. Being touched by the wind easily damages true qi and weakens the spirit. If the poison clings to you, your flesh melts instantly."

"One of those skins up there? That's your fate."

"I've already sacrificed to the Ghost King. Walking upon the bronze divine tree, the yin wind cannot harm your spirits. Just avoid the mixed poison—it's not hard to pass."

"Take care of yourselves."

Xiao Yu and the other two read the message and understood: this was Brother Qian Chen's test. He refused to accompany anyone—meaning this trial could not be survived by relying on others.

Xiao Yu stepped forward first…

Within the Yu Jiuyou Yin Wind, there were not only demonic holes, yin, death, extinction, and poison—each type damaged true qi, clouded the mind, shook the spirit, and poisoned the soul. The mixed earth yin poison was even more deadly.

Gang and sha qi were rare, precious elemental energies—only deep subterranean earth fissures could emit such vast quantities of poison.

But these deadly miasmas, mixed within the yin winds, were devastating—like countless waves of malevolent energy slashed from Seven Fiend Banners; even a slight contact equaled a full-force strike from one of those banners.

The most prevalent among these yin winds was a type of earth miasma known as Wuhe Jian Wind Miasma.

As they stepped into the Yu Jiuyou Yin Winds, countless whispers seemed to echo in their ears—curses, mutterings, wails, and curses. These chaotic sounds did not merely reverberate around them; they also took shape before their eyes as vivid, lifelike illusions.

A chilling coldness eroded their yang fire; a demonic toxin weakened their essence, qi, and spirit simultaneously. In but a moment, the Yu Jiuyou Yin Winds would rob them of all five senses and plunge them into madness.

It could stir their inner demons—or summon demonic entities from the yin winds to possess them, triggering uncontrollable rage and turning them against others!

At that moment, a faint warmth surged up from the white-bone tree beneath their feet, dispelling these delusions and snapping them back to clarity.