Chapter 122: The Mortal Path

“A concealment technique like yours is indeed profound—it completely escaped my perception,” the ghost cultivator said in a calm tone.

For someone like him, a ghost cultivator who had committed countless atrocities, meeting a cultivator of the immortal path would usually result in an immediate fight without a word exchanged.

But now, his composure suggested he had a method to counter Gu Ning’an, leaving him unshaken.

Seeing Gu Ning’an remain silent, the ghost cultivator stood up, clasped his hands, and said, “We’ve no past grievances nor recent conflicts. Why not keep out of each other’s way?

“Why meddle in my affairs?”

Gu Ning’an shook his head. “If you were merely gathering yin energy to cultivate, I might not interfere. But using deceitful means, killing people, and devouring their souls—if I ignore that, what’s the point of cultivating the Dao?”

“Then let me learn from you,” the ghost cultivator said. At his words, the bronze coffin beside him burst open with a deafening roar, releasing a barrage of ghostly swords shaped like malevolent spirits, all hurtling toward Gu Ning’an.

“Crafting disposable spells from human souls?” Gu Ning’an frowned deeply.

Buzz!

A resonant sword hum, like a dragon’s roar, echoed through the chamber!

Behind Gu Ning’an, the Hongchen Sword partially unsheathed itself, radiating a blazing white light!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Explosions erupted in rapid succession as nearly a thousand ghostly swords forged from wandering souls shattered one after another!

“An immortal sword!” the ghost cultivator shouted in shock before transforming into a cloud of black mist, slipping through the mountain’s crevices in an attempt to escape.

However, to his horror, he soon realized that every time he thought he had fled the mountain, he was inexplicably transported back to the tomb, standing before Gu Ning’an once again.

Without hesitation, the ghost cultivator tried escaping repeatedly, fleeing in every direction.

But on the 18th attempt, when he saw Gu Ning’an’s smiling face once more, despair set in.

“Immortal, could you not spare me a path of life?” Before the ghost cultivator could finish pleading, Gu Ning’an waved his sleeve, and the ghostly figure vanished into nothingness.

“Mr. Gu! You’ve finally rid us of this great calamity!”

“That despicable Sovereign caused me so much suffering!”

As Qiu Qianren spoke, he prepared to kneel before Gu Ning’an in gratitude.

But Gu Ning’an gave no response. He cast a glance at Qiu Qianren, and with a flash, he vanished from the tomb.

…

“Ying Du!”

Liu Feixue suddenly sat upright, her cold, elegant face filled with urgency. She glanced around before spotting Ying Du on the first platform and quickly ran toward him.

At the same time, the other sword cultivators lying unconscious on the ground began to wake up. When they saw Liu Feixue helping their savior, Ying Du, they gathered around him.

Earlier, after Ying Du returned to the “Nightmare Realm,” he revealed to everyone that they were in a dream. To him, offering help along the way was no trouble at all.

Learning that Ying Du had already left but came back to save them, everyone was deeply grateful. Liu Feixue, in particular, insisted on staying with Ying Du until they left the “Nightmare Realm” together.

What Ying Du hadn’t expected, however, was that despite knowing the place was a dream, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape.

Realizing there might only be one chance to leave, Ying Du tricked Liu Feixue, telling her that Mr. Gu still had tasks for him to complete and that she should leave first.

Trusting Ying Du completely, Liu Feixue believed him. Just before she broke through the dream, she heard Ying Du say:

“Please tell the little beggar in Lingwu County that I won’t be able to join him for the sesame flatbread he bought…”

These near-final words left the awakened Liu Feixue on the verge of collapse.

“Ying Du! Ying Du!”

“Why can’t you go tell him yourself? I won’t pass on your message!”

“What’s that little beggar’s name? You didn’t even tell me!”  

Liu Feixue gently shook Ying Du repeatedly, hoping to wake him up this way.  

“Has Master Ying failed to come out?” Lu Ming asked, rubbing his aching cheeks.  

Liu Feixue shook her head. “I don’t know…”  

“Damn it! I swear I’ll kill that scoundrel Qiu Qianren!” Lu Ming shouted furiously, and the other swordfighters who had just woken up echoed his anger.  

Creak—  

The main doors of the square Sword Pavilion were slowly pushed open. Standing outside was a lone figure carrying a sword.  

As the figure approached, the gathered swordsmen immediately raised their swords, their eyes filled with vigilance.  

“Liu Zhi! Just in time!”  

“You’re here to kill us on behalf of that scoundrel Qiu Qianren, aren’t you?”  

“Come on, then! I, Lu Ming, will face you today!”  

Lu Ming stepped out from the crowd, holding his heavy sword horizontally in front of him, ready to strike.  

Liu Zhi glanced at everyone, then clasped his hands in salute. “Everyone, I was deceived by Old Dog Qiu’s ghostly tricks earlier, but I’ve only just come to my senses.  

“I owe all of you an apology.”  

Hearing this, Lu Ming frowned and said, “What kind of childish trickery is that? Do you think we’ll believe you—”  

Before he could finish, a round object rolled to the feet of the gathered swordsmen.  

Looking closely, they realized it was Qiu Qianren’s severed head!  

No further explanation was needed—this was evidence enough!  

Just as Lu Ming was about to say something, Liu Zhi turned his gaze toward his daughter and paused before saying, “Mr. Gu said this young man isn’t waking up yet because he drank too much. He’ll come around once he sobers up.”  

Hearing this, Liu Feixue burst into tears of relief, streams of joy rolling down her cheeks as she murmured, “That’s wonderful, truly wonderful…”  

“You carried sandbags for two days, and the foreman only gave you twenty copper coins?  

“That won’t do—I’m going to find him and demand justice!”  

Ying Du stuffed the sesame flatbread back into the little beggar’s hands, rolling up his sleeves in righteous indignation.  

“Brother Ying, that foreman’s as strong as an ox—you…” The little beggar tugged at Ying Du’s sleeve, glancing nervously at Liu Feixue nearby. Hastily, he said, “Sister Feixue, please talk Brother Ying out of this! If he goes over, he’ll definitely get beaten up!”  

Clang!  

Liu Feixue drew her sword in one swift motion and said coldly, “Ying Du, lead the way. If he doesn’t hand over the money today, I’ll take his arm.”  

“Ha!” Ying Du laughed heartily. “Let’s go, let’s go! With Sister Feixue here, dealing with a mere foreman will be a piece of cake!”  

…

“This flatbread is actually quite tasty, though it’s a bit pricey,” Liu Feixue remarked, taking small bites of the crispy flatbread with a smile.  

“It’s not expensive at all,” Ying Du replied with a nod. “For someone like Hero Liu, what’s a little money? That foreman handed over more than fifty taels earlier—why didn’t you take it?”  

“Hmph, I was helping Xiao Cheng get the wages he rightfully deserved, not robbing anyone!” Liu Feixue shot Ying Du a glare.  

Looking into her gentle, watery eyes, Ying Du suddenly found the flatbread in his hand much less appetizing.  

“By the way, would you say you won or lost that bet with Mr. Gu?” Liu Feixue asked out of the blue.  

Ying Du chuckled. “Winning or losing doesn’t matter. What’s important is that this grudge has been settled. From now on, I’m done with the Jianghu. I’ll wash my hands of it for good.”  

“Done with the Jianghu? What do you plan to do next?” Liu Feixue asked curiously.  

Ying Du gave her a sidelong glance and grinned. “What else? Settle down, get married, and have kids!”  

“How mundane…” Liu Feixue turned her head away, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.  

Ying Du stuffed the last bite of flatbread into his mouth and mumbled, “Eh, I’m just a simple man. Simple folks, simple joys—no worries at all…”