Chapter 361: Buddha Amulet

I never imagined that Chen Ping would open his mouth and actually want to pawn his half-body Dragon Qi!

Chen Ping is a false emperor, yet his half-dragon body's destiny is genuine.

He truly has half-body Dragon Qi within him.

And at this moment, that half-body Dragon Qi is accumulated within his human-skin effigy.

If he pawns his half-body Dragon Qi to the pawn shop, that half-body Dragon Qi will be instantly sucked out of the human-skin effigy; then the ghost opera stage's ritual tonight will be undercut at its base, and all efforts will fail.

This is a huge temptation.

At this moment, I admit, I am shaken.

Without his half-body Dragon Qi, Chen Ping is just an ordinary blood corpse.

Even if he gets back the pawn ticket and redeems his freedom, with our all-out effort we should still be able to repress him again, shouldn't we?

At most he might still have some unknown trump card; it would take some effort, but surely it's far easier than the ghost opera side's god-making act.

I was hesitating when the blood corpse spoke again: "This half-body Dragon Qi, I will pawn it to Lord Liu the Seventh."

One must admit, Chen Ping is very adept at winning people's hearts.

Liu Junyan is the Bai Jiao; he possesses dragon-blood lineage.

If we infuse this half-body Dragon Qi into Liu Junyan's body, for him it would be like adding wings to a tiger.

He desperately needs this kind of power's backing.

I couldn't help but wonder: Liu Junyan had me watch the pawn shop tonight—could he also be after this half-body Dragon Qi?

After a brief inner struggle, I gritted my teeth, steeled my resolve, and opened my mouth to reply—when the blood corpse interjected: "What I want as pawn gold is my…… pfft……"

Before the word 'ticket' of the pawn ticket could even be spoken, a blood-streaked Qiankun Mandarin Duck Hook flew in from outside, piercing the blood corpse's back and transfixing its chest.

The blood corpse stiffened instantly, then slowly lowered its head to gaze at the hook claw piercing out of its chest, eyes filled with utter disbelief.

The next moment, the Qiankun Mandarin Duck Hook pulled taut, and the blood corpse's body was yanked flying away.

At the instant the blood corpse was being dragged away, something fell to the ground with a soft sound.

The change happened far too quickly.

By the time I picked it up and gave chase, I saw the Qiankun Mandarin Duck Hook hauling Chen Ping's blood corpse straight toward the ghost opera stage, finally hanging it on the high pole on the stage's west side.

Those seven or eight large azure hawks instantly caught the scent and rushed over, perching on the blood corpse and relentlessly tearing at it.

The blood corpse's anguished cries echoed throughout Wufu Town; within less than a minute, it had been torn apart by the hawks to a sorry state.

"This is what they call a voluntary sacrifice," Fu Wan sneered sarcastically. "What a voluntary sacrifice!"

I closed my eyes, never expecting things to have come to this point.

Chen Ping's blood corpse has survived to this day perhaps precisely for this very sacrifice; his fate was sealed over a hundred years ago.

Even if I hadn't interrupted him twice just now, he could never have successfully uttered the two words 'pawn ticket'.

I stepped back a few paces, retreating into the pawn shop.

My emotions haven't settled from that bloody, horrifying scene just now; I need to calm down and think carefully about what to do next.

I sat back in the chair, pinching the thing I had just picked up, and examined it closely.

It is a plaque of agarwood, its color antiquated, its material solid, its distinctive agarwood fragrance mixed with a rich sandalwood scent—this object must have been offered before a Buddha.

On the front of the plaque is carved a blooming six-petal lotus, atop which sits a Buddha figure; the back is engraved with a Sanskrit character I do not recognize.

As I held the plaque and looked at it, Fu Wan also looked and said: "This is a Buddha amulet, not some Southeast Asian evil object; it is genuinely from the Buddhist gate, likely a symbol of some Buddhist status."

I turned the Sanskrit character on the back toward Fu Wan and asked: "Do you recognize this character?"

I never expected Fu Wan to suddenly retreat several steps, fleeing to the funeral shop side; she was clearly frightened of this character, her voice trembling as she said: "I don't recognize it."

Although Fu Wan is a soul, her soul has been nourished by merit; she ought not to fear anything from the Buddhist gate.

But her reaction just now is thought-provoking.

Since she fears it, I put this Buddha amulet away.

Just then, outside there was suddenly thunder and lightning; I ran out to look, and there was movement coming from the ghost opera stage.

All I saw was a expanse of golden light flashing, shooting straight to the heavens, faintly showing signs that a true dragon was about to ascend.

Those few azure hawks soared and circled within the golden light.

Even from that distance, I could still see clearly within the golden light that the hawks' feathers were fluttering down.

It seems the human-skin effigy has already absorbed enough essence, making up for Chen Ping's half-dragon body's deficiency; and these azure hawks have devoured so much flesh and blood—now is exactly the time for them to be sacrificed.

Once the azure hawks' sacrifice is complete, next comes the tribulation crossing and ascension.

In my view, they are only one step away from succeeding in their god-making.

Li Qingying also ran out, almost simultaneously with Fu Wan asking: "Xiao Jiu, what should we do now? Just watch helplessly?"

I narrowed my eyes and gazed toward the Pearl Coil River.

At a glance I locked onto Liu Junyan's figure.

He was watching all this happen, yet showed no reaction; he seemed to be waiting for something.

I then said: "Hmm, let's not move for now, just wait."

No sooner had my words fallen than, beneath that expanse of golden light on the ghost opera stage, another ray of red light suddenly appeared, piercing the golden light and shooting straight to the heavens.

The red light projected onto the heavens, as if in midair beneath the dark, heavy clouds, it had created a full, round blood moon.

For a moment, the Yīnfēng howled.

Amidst that howling Yīnfēng, a mournful melody suddenly rang out.

The moment that opera tune sounded, it drowned out all sounds on the ghost opera stage.

Jiang Que ran over from behind, stumbling excitedly, and shouted: "It's the Wu Pen Record! It's here! It finally came!"

He stared excitedly at the blood moon in midair, his words somewhat garbled: "This is right, this is the correct one."

At the instant the 'Wu Pen Record' began to sing, the whole world seemed to fall into a deathly silence.

But this silence didn't last long; after just a dozen seconds, the entire Pearl Disc River, and even Wufu Town, boiled over.

On the Pearl Disc River, the water surged and black qi coiled.

In Wufu Town, it was a scene of ghostly wails and wolf howls.

Even inside the Bagua Well suppressed by the Hexagonal Palace Lamp came a faint, almost inaudible sobbing sound.

Finally, Fu Wan beside me raised her hand, extending her fingers to plug her own ears.

She kept shaking her head, murmuring, "No… no…"

She was affected by the Ghost Play, as if recalling something.

But she strongly rejected those memories she had deliberately sealed and hidden, not wanting to face the painful experience from a hundred years ago again.

She turned and ran into the pawn shop……