Chapter 123: The Human Cage

The stench of rot filled the air, pus and blood smeared the ground…

In the cramped stone cage, barely enough space remained for two adults to crouch sideways; the thin, colorless filthy blanket beneath was riddled with holes large and small.

Perhaps due to years of accumulated blood soaking into it, even the original grayish stones were now completely covered in thick, furry dark-red moss, two fingers long and densely lush.

When brushed by the wind, it rustled softly.

It looked like hundreds of dark-red worms writhing desperately, and merely glancing at it sent a chill crawling through the bones.

A narrow opening was carved in the center of the stone cage, just wide enough for the captive humans to reach out one hand and pull in their food basin.

Chen Hang looked inside—the basin held only wild grass and some strange, unidentifiable sludge, mixed haphazardly with fragments of human limbs left behind by the ghosts.

The thick, foul stench rose in waves, mingling with the cage’s horrific scene, causing Chen Hang to frown slightly and shake his head inwardly.

“Chen Sect Brother…”

Inside the cage, Yu Wanrou’s face twisted, tears streaming down continuously.

Her arms were gone; from the stumps, white bone shards and gray, decayed flesh were clearly visible—grotesque and terrifying.

“Wang Ying has been eaten alive, and Guan Jing and Zhou Erzhi too—my hands…”

She struggled to rise, but the movement tore open her arm wounds; searing pain ripped through her, making her grunt in her throat, her temples throbbing with veins, sweat pouring down.

When she trembled and looked at her tattered sleeves, they were now empty; raising her gaze further, she caught sight of several dead, plump white maggots stiffly lying on the wounds, motionless.

“I’ve lost my hands… my foundation is ruined…”

Yu Wanrou’s grief surged uncontrollably; she clenched her eyes shut, forcing back her tears.

She wanted to scream and weep.

But she suddenly remembered she was still inside the Human Cage—she forced herself to stifle her sobs, letting only low, muffled whimpers escape her throat.

After a long while, she finally managed to regain her composure.

She looked up silently at Chen Hang standing outside the cage, stunned into silence.

One was trapped in chains, limbs incomplete, life hanging by a thread; the other was clad in clean, orderly robes.

She had just awakened from a daze.

In her hazy mind…

Yu Wanrou had thought Chen Hang too had been captured by ghosts, imprisoned in this same Human Cage to keep her company—and despair had seized her.

Now, with her mind clearing slightly, she realized her mistake.

In that moment, besides self-derision, a surge of desperate, near-miraculous hope flooded her heart—she prayed this man could help her escape this earthly hell, to live again.

“Sect Brother, I…”

Yu Wanrou spoke, but before she could finish, another wave of tears choked her voice.

“Sect Sister Yu, please bear up.”

Chen Hang sighed.

He and Yu Wanrou were at least distant acquaintances.

Long ago, when Chen Hang had just been released from the water dungeon and had not yet achieved embryonic breathing, Yu Wanrou had once briefly helped him—she’d even carried him partway.

That time, Ai Jian was distributing White Yang Pills at Return-Moon Peak, handing out the life-or-death payment to disciples descending into the Abyss.

At that time, Chen Hang was still a mortal, his blood and qi weaker than an ordinary commoner’s.

With his strength then, walking from Sunset Peak to Return-Moon Peak would have taken him from noon until nightfall, if he made it at all.

Yu Wanrou had simply lent him a hand, carrying him to Return-Moon Peak.

Back then, she had just achieved Foundation Establishment, brimming with vigor and ambition.

Who could have foreseen their next meeting?

Yu Wanrou was now imprisoned in the Human Cage, her arms severed, her foundation shattered, forever cut off from the true Immortal Path.

The capriciousness of fate…

Truly beyond comprehension…

“I wonder what happened to you after you boarded the ‘Luo Xian Lead Boat,’ and how you came to this state.”

After Yu Wanrou slowly quieted her sobs, Chen Hang spoke gently:

“The nearby ghost sentinels have been temporarily distracted—I needn’t worry you.”

“It was because of the Human-Faced Fungus… we overestimated ourselves…”

Yu Wanrou’s heart ached again, her eyes red as she spoke:

“Human-Faced Fungus?”

Chen Hang frowned.

…

Yu Wanrou’s “Luo Xian Lead Boat” was not the same as Chen Hang’s.

She was not alone in the sect; she had close female companions, and after some discussion, they decided to travel together to gather external herbs.

That way, if trouble arose, they’d have each other’s backs.

And Yu Wanrou’s group was fortunate—after days of searching, they actually found an immature Human-Faced Fungus hidden in a secluded valley.

Ai Jian’s reward was indeed generous.

Even one fungus would have been enough for Yu Wanrou’s group to benefit from.

But as they prepared to harvest it, the disturbance stirred the yin energy, disrupting the subterranean spiritual currents over several miles, creating a chilling, mist-shrouded spectacle.

At first, this only drew a few wandering minor ghosts to spy—Yu Wanrou’s group wasn’t afraid and easily drove them off.

They took the fungus, hastily covered the traces, and left.

But only half a day later, a swarm of green-faced, ferocious ghosts descended upon them, relentlessly hunting them down.

Yu Wanrou’s group fought and retreated; though they killed many, they were vastly outnumbered—seven of them were all captured.

To this day, among the seven…

Only Yu Wanrou and another Foundation Establishment cultivator named Shi E remained alive, imprisoned in the Human Cage, destined to be served as a dish for Lady Yue’s wedding feast.

The other five Qi Condensation cultivators had long since been devoured alive by the ghosts as rewards.

…

“We underestimated these ghosts’ intelligence—we didn’t kill all the initial spying ghosts, thinking they were no different from beasts, only drawn to blood.”

Yu Wanrou lowered her head silently, her voice heavy with regret, each word dripping with blood:

“One little ghost escaped—we ignored it… now I realize, it must have gone to warn the others… that’s how the ferocious ghosts came.”

The distinction between spiritual ghosts and turbid ghosts—

Though recorded in Daoist texts…

Yu Wanrou and her group had never entered the Abyss, never witnessed ghosts firsthand; they still held some disdain, never regarding them as sentient beings with equal intelligence.

And it was precisely this arrogance that led Yu Wanrou’s group to their tragic end.

In fact, after being imprisoned in the Human Cage, Yu Wanrou had once used a secret technique to send a plea for help to her sect.

But those who received her message…

Either clung to their lives, refusing to risk themselves, pretending they heard nothing—

Or, bewitched by Yu Wanrou’s beauty, flushed with bloodlust, summoned courage and came to rescue her.

But their strength was insufficient—they came only to die uselessly.

Not only did they fail to save her or win her favor, they became food for the ghosts themselves, watching helplessly as the creatures tore them apart limb by limb, dying with eyes wide open…

“Sect Sister, you greatly underestimated them. Even ordinary turbid ghosts are no easy foe, let alone spiritual ones.”

After hearing Yu Wanrou’s account, Chen Hang’s eyes flickered, then he spoke slowly:

“But today, I came here with one question—I need your help.”

Yu Wanrou froze.

“Today, I heard a spiritual ghost named Zi Ying say that this Human Cage holds many of our sect’s cultivators—among them, you, Wang Ying, and Sect Brother Xu Zhi…”

Chen Hang’s gaze darkened:

“But when I walked through this cage just now, I counted hundreds of stone cages—I couldn’t find Sect Brother Xu Zhi…”

“May I ask, Sect Sister Yu—is he still alive?”

“Xu?”

Yu Wanrou thought a moment, then slowly shook her head:

“This sect brother also received my message—he cared for our brotherhood and came alone into the Human Cage two days ago to rescue us—but there were too many ghosts, and the odds were too great.”

Yu Wanrou bowed her head apologetically, silent:

“An hour ago, Lady Yue ordered night snacks—Sect Brother Xu was seized by several large ghosts, his limbs twisted off. He’s probably—”

“What are you saying?!”

Chen Hang was stunned.

For once, he lost his composure, his eyes brimming with murderous intent.

“Sect Brother Xu…”

Yu Wanrou was startled, her voice hesitant:

“Sect Brother Xu…”

“No.”

Chen Hang suddenly realized—he lowered his eyelids, suppressing the killing intent within, and spoke slowly:

“That’s not him. He doesn’t have this kind of courage.”

Yu Wanrou was confused.

“Xu Zhi might feel pity, but no one would dare risk their life to enter the horde of ghosts and rescue someone—not that I underestimate my senior brother, he…”

Chen Hang shook his head and continued:

“Moreover, Sister Yu previously always called him ‘senior brother’—how did he suddenly become ‘junior brother’? It seems we’re not referring to the same person?”

“Xu Zhi? Wait… you mean the Xu Zhi who once studied under Elder Gu Jun?”

Yu Wanchou’s expression turned strange; after a moment, she shook her head and said:

“The Xu junior brother I mean is the one from the Service Hall. The two of them share the same name—so clearly, they’re not the same person.”

Upon hearing this, Chen Hang felt a slight easing in his chest.

And at that moment,

Yu Wanchou, who had long been holding back, lifted her head, her eyes brimming with tears, and finally spoke:

“Brother Chen, since Xu Zhi is unharmed, can you save my life? I simply cannot endure this torment any longer! Every day I watch people being devoured alive before my eyes—I’m terrified!”

Her arms had been chewed off, and all her talismanic tools had been stripped away.

Moreover, the thick turbid yin in the abyss was inherently unsuitable for cultivators to remain in for long.

Even before her Dao foundation was shattered, she had needed to take White Yang Pills daily to protect her internal organs from the encroaching cold, which would otherwise kill her brain spirit.

Now that her Dao foundation was ruined and her blood qi withered, she was only slightly better off than ordinary mortals.

Even if these ghosts did not eat her flesh,

with the turbid yin continuously entering her body,

she likely had only a few days left to live…

“Sister, rest assured—I’m not the type to let someone die before my eyes.”

Chen Hang waved his hand and replied.

He looked around and saw hundreds of stone cages like Yu Wanchou’s, each crammed with living humans, their cramped space forcing them to curl up like dogs or pigs, eating filthy food.

Sometimes, even the flesh of their own kin was mixed in, forcibly fed to them by the ghosts for amusement…

This was still the so-called Class-A meat pens.

As for Class-B and Class-C, the horrors were beyond description.

And the lowest Class-D meat pens,

were nothing but scenes of earthly hell—blood-drenched and gruesome.

The yin energy in the abyss had grown so thick and overwhelming that, to ordinary mortals, it was a deadly poison—impossible to endure for long.

The ghosts often used sinister drugs to feed humans, shortening women’s pregnancies so they could give birth to many children at once.

These infants, though born, lacked complete spiritual essence and could not live long.

But to the ghosts, whether their blood food possessed intelligence was utterly irrelevant…

Skulls piled like hills, bones stood like forests.

Corpses formed mountains, blood flowed into rivers…

Even Chen Hang, upon seeing this, could not help but be moved; his killing intent surged.

“It is said that evil must be eradicated utterly—every single ghost in this mansion deserves to die.”

Chen Hang sighed and said:

“But if I strike now, I may not have the strength to eliminate them all—some will escape, and that would be undesirable.”

“What do you mean, Brother Chen?”

“When the so-called Miss Yue’s wedding day arrives, Ziying told me all the ghosts in the mansion will attend the banquet—perhaps even some guests will come to offer gifts.”

Chen Hang’s eyes flashed with sharp light:

“That day will be the perfect moment to strike!”

Yu Wanchou sat stunned. Seeing Chen Hang speak so casually, she grew anxious and couldn’t help warning:

“Brother, don’t be overconfident—those ghosts aren’t easy to deal with. You…”

Chen Hang smiled faintly, withdrew the “Floating Water Phantom Pearl” from his sleeve, and held it in his palm without speaking.

Upon seeing the pearl, Yu Wanchou’s pupils contracted; she seemed to recall something, froze, fell silent, and her face instantly lit up with joy.

“Sister, please endure a few more days.”

After giving Yu Wanchou several White Yang Pills,

Chen Hang bowed and took his leave, heading toward the quiet room where Ziying had lodged him.

The ghosts guarding the Class-A pens were all drowsy, ignoring him as if blind, their expressions dreamy, as if lost in visions.

Only after Chen Hang returned to the mansion to rest did they snap out of it, scratching their heads in confusion, but thinking nothing of it, soon forgetting entirely.

Chen Hang had already silently subdued these ghosts with the “Floating Jade Phantom Pearl.”

This time,

the talismanic artifact on Yan Jia’s person had proven useful…

…

Days passed swiftly.

Soon, it was the day of Miss Yue’s wedding.

During this time, Ziying had visited several times unexpectedly; seeing Chen Hang always staying quietly in his room, she finally relaxed and ceased suspecting anything.

“Today is quite lively—how many guests have arrived?”

Ziying led Chen Hang toward the mansion’s main hall; along the way, the sound of gongs and drums filled the air, festive and joyous.

“Not many—only a few neighboring elders were invited. Miss Yue isn’t particularly favored… I wonder if Lord Shanhu and Madam Feihua will even send servants to offer condolences today.”

Ziying sighed, her face filled with worry.

In these days, her fondness for Chen Hang had grown daily, especially after her doubts vanished; she longed to cling to him, even revealing secrets of the mansion.

Chen Hang listened thoughtfully, but before he could speak, after turning a small garden, he suddenly heard shouts and running footsteps.

The wind suddenly grew urgent.

Chen Hang sidestepped slightly.

The next instant, a dark shadow flew from afar, slammed past him, and crashed to the ground like a rolling gourd, rolling several zhang before stopping.

The shadow slowly groaned to its feet—it was a young man clad in black robes.

“Brother, are you alright?”

Seeing him gaze dazedly toward him, Chen Hang asked casually.

“A-all right?”

Song Rupu felt pain everywhere in his body.

He wiped his face numbly, turned to Chen Hang, and was about to bow in apology—when his expression froze, then burst into wild delight!

“How could she be so exquisitely beautiful? This is true beauty! What am I, Song Rupu? I’m nothing! Lord, you’ve finally opened your eyes! You’ve finally opened your eyes!”

Song Rupu wept and ran toward Chen Hang, shouting:

“No need to marry! I don’t have to marry! Someone finally came to take my place! Hahaha!

I’ve accumulated virtue all my life—today I’ve finally met you—”

“Brother, you’re joking.”

Chen Hang calmly kicked the rushing Song Rupu aside and said coolly:

“You are exceedingly handsome—how could I possibly compare?”