Chapter 6: Soul-Fixing Pearl

According to ancient records, the human body possesses three souls and seven physical portals, known collectively as the souls and spirits. The first of the three souls is named Tai-guang, the breath of the Supreme Purity and harmony, which belongs to the heavens; the second is named Shuang-ling, the mutation of Yin energy, which belongs to the five elements; and the third is named You-jing, the mixture of Yin energy, which belongs to the earth.

As for the names of the seven physical aspects, they are respectively Corpse Dog, Prostrate Arrow, Sparrow Yin, Sluggish Stench, Non-venomous, Excrement Remover, and Stinking Lungs. These seven aspects are the turbid ghosts within the human body, wandering and drifting about within the mortal frame on the eves of the new moon, the full moon, and the last day of the lunar month, inviting malevolence and bringing forth evil.

When a person is about to die, the seven aspects scatter first, and then the three souls take their leave.

Most beings across the five realms take this as the standard. Whenever the topic of souls and spirits is brought up, these three souls and seven physical aspects are the immediate recollection.

Yet, the world is so vast, and the entities and objects drifting beyond the five realms are countless beyond measure. Naturally, certain matters cannot be judged by conventional reasoning.

The Ghost Lord is an entity existing beyond the five realms, and his circumstances certainly cannot be discussed through conventional logic. When the Ghost Lord first appeared, and from whence he came—within the five realms, almost no one knows the answers to these questions.

The unfathomable Ghost Lord holds many secrets, the most crucial of which is the composition of his soul. His soul is different from that of ordinary people. While most possess the standard three souls and seven physical aspects, he is not among them; he bears four extra souls and two extra physical aspects beyond ordinary beings.

The four additional souls are collectively referred to as the void souls, governing Yin, while the two physical aspects are tangible aspects, governing Yang.

Should the Ghost Lord lose any single one of these extra souls or physical aspects, the minor consequence would be a decline in his cultivation and power, while the major consequence would be a mortal threat to his life. If, by some coincidence, the Ghost Lord were left with only the ordinary three souls and seven physical aspects while still remaining in this world, he would suffer complete memory loss, becoming no different from an ordinary mortal.

Crafting a magic artifact to anchor the soul defies the natural laws of the universe. However, in the eyes of the Ghost Lord, this was of little consequence, as most of his other artifacts had come into being through similarly unorthodox means.

The cycle of the heavenly Dao operates through quiet, hidden rules within the world: one must lose in order to gain. If you wish to acquire something, you must naturally pay an equivalent price.

From the outside, the artifact-forging chamber appeared majestic and grand, yet practically no one knew that inside the chamber, there was fundamentally nothing at all—it was merely an ordinary empty room. When the Ghost Lord entered this forging chamber, it was merely to deceive prying eyes while he actually forged items or concocted pills within his storage ring.

Within the storage ring, there was a chamber specifically designated for storing lifeless objects, as well as a miniature world meticulously crafted and arranged by him over a long period, equipped with everything one could possibly desire.

In this miniature world, having casually selected an open plot of land, he gently traced his fingertip, using a bead of blood as a catalyst to ignite the Samadhi True Fire. He placed the materials to be smelted into the flames, each item positioned with strict limitations and precise orientation; the slightest deviation would render the entire forging process a complete failure.

Gathering his utmost focus, the Ghost Lord stared unblinkingly at the pale blue flames, successively casting phoenix feathers, dragon scales, heavenly fox tears, the sword qi of the Soul-Suppressing Sword, and a scattering of powder from the Soul-Imprisoning Cable into the fire. The moment these items entered the true fire, they emitted a variety of faint glows, dazzling and enchanting like a rainbow after the rain. Yet the Ghost Lord had no leisure to admire them. The color of the pale blue true fire slowly deepened, faded, and then transformed into a brilliant, vivid red.

The Ghost Lord's garments were soaked entirely through, and water droplets hung from the ends of his hair, making him look as though he had just fallen into a lake. His complexion grew increasingly pale, while the color of the true fire became ever redder. Finally, reaching a certain limit, the Ghost Lord used one hand to extract a soul and a physical aspect from his own body—the very final ingredient for forging the artifact—and cast them into the fire. The true fire flared as if massive quantities of fuel had been violently added, bursting forth with a dazzling, blinding brilliance.

Outside the storage ring, the sky above the desolate artifact-forging chamber was shrouded in dense, gathering dark clouds. Almost simultaneously with the burst of light from within the true fire, a bolt of pure black lightning struck down from the clouds, and the forging chamber was reduced to nothingness in an instant.

The colors of lightning carry their unique heavenly mandates, yet black lightning is the most terrifying and universally abhorred. Black lightning is known by the moniker "Heavenly Punishment." Wherever "Heavenly Punishment" manifests, the location is almost invariably branded a "Devil's Den."

The "Devil's Den" is a place abandoned by the heavenly Dao; to step within the "Devil's Den" is to court misfortune.

The residents of the underworld looked out in terror at the distant strike of the "Heavenly Punishment." Though unaware of precisely what had occurred, nearly all of them fled back into their dwellings to avoid being implicated in the turmoil.

Naturally, the Ghost Lamp had also witnessed it. He quietly made his way toward the site of the "Heavenly Punishment" to investigate the matter. The underworld simply could not afford any bizarre disturbances at a time like this; otherwise, utter chaos would ensue.

Within the miniature world of the storage ring, unaffected in the slightest by the "Heavenly Punishment," the Ghost Lord chuckled softly, wiping away the residual blood at the corner of his mouth. He looked with satisfaction at the blood-red bead suspended in mid-air, within which shadowy figures faintly flowed, while pearly-white mist swirled about its exterior.

The Ghost Lord parted his lips slightly, and the bead drifted toward him. Swallowing the bead, the Ghost Lord instantly felt the damage inflicted upon his body by the recent extraction of his soul vanish away, and his previously scattered soul steadily anchored itself.

Dropping his gaze, the Ghost Lord moved his intent and stepped out of the storage ring. The "Heavenly Punishment" struck down without mercy. Ghost Lamp, who had just arrived, watched this scene with a heart that leapt violently into his throat. How could this be? This "Heavenly Punishment" had actually been summoned by the Ghost Lord?

The "Heavenly Punishment" landed, stirring up dust and debris from the ground. For a moment, Ghost Lamp could not clearly discern the situation within. After a short while, as the dust settled, Ghost Lamp stared in utter astonishment at the Ghost Lord. He had actually absorbed the "Heavenly Punishment" into himself! Surrounded by crackling black lightning, the Ghost Lord stood amidst the pitted ruins, quietly sweeping his gaze across the surroundings before finally letting out a helpless sigh. He had accounted for every contingency, yet he had uniquely overlooked this "Heavenly Punishment."

A large portion of the barriers and prohibitions of the Asura Hall had been destroyed by the "Heavenly Punishment." Tsk, what a nuisance. Catching sight of a certain spot outside the forging chamber, the Ghost Lord's expression suddenly darkened. He reached out his hand, and a figure was instantly hoisted into the air by an invisible force. Raising an eyebrow and recognizing the face of the prying intruder, the Ghost Lord slowly lowered his hand and asked aloud, "Where is Yunqing?"

Clutching his neck, Ghost Lamp coughed violently several times before rasped, "He has already set off for the mortal realm."

Dispelling the "Heavenly Punishment" crackling around him, the Ghost Lord lowered his gaze and said, "Look after Nian'er well for me. I am making a trip to the mortal realm."

Although he had already dispatched the Four Monstrosities and the Black Slave to the mortal realm as guards, the involvement of the Demonic Domain introduced too many volatile variables. If he were the least bit careless, Yunqing's life would be in mortal peril; he had to proceed to the mortal realm immediately.

Ghost Lamp's breathing gradually leveled out, and he asked no further questions. With the Ghost Lord present, Yunqing's safety would be far more secure. This equated to a favorable outcome for the underworld, so he had no reason to refuse—nor could he refuse. Bowing respectfully, Ghost Lamp replied, "Ghost Lamp obeys your command."

When Ghost Lamp raised his head once more, nothing remained before his eyes save a vast expanse of ruins; the Ghost Lord had long since departed.

The mortal realm, a mutated kingdom.

The discordant flute music slowly transformed into a graceful melody, resembling the enchanting song of merfolk luring fishermen upon the sea. That lingering flute tune gradually guided people toward the gates of the underworld.

Above this mutated kingdom, faint dark swirls of mist hovered, obscuring the view of passing Daoist practitioners.

The moment Yan Yunqing arrived in the mortal realm, he almost immediately located the mutated kingdom. Wherever he passed, the vegetation was utterly withered, and skeletal remains littered the fields. He searched meticulously, yet failed to find a single living soul.

The closer he drew to the center of the kingdom, the gloomier the skies became. Yan Yunqing investigated all the way, and when the hue of the sky ceased to change, he stopped. Yet, for reasons unknown, this central area was pristine and clean, without even a single skeletal remain to be seen.

Soon enough, he discovered the reason.

In the silent, desolate outskirts, the melodious flute music eerily sounded once more, and the ground began to vibrate with heavy, rhythmic thuds. Not far away, a colossal entity seemed to be steadily approaching. At last, he perceived the true form of that giant creature.

The colossal entity was in fact a giant skeleton assembled from tens of thousands of skeletal remains. The towering skeleton stretched upward boundlessly, its summit lost to view, and Yan Yunqing fancied he could hear tens of thousands of mournful shrieks and wails—sounds that even drowned out the increasingly piercing flute music.

The dark mist blanketing the sky descended gradually. Sensing something hurtling toward him at blinding speed, Yan Yunqing instantly dodged aside.

A burst of laughter suddenly erupted beside him. A figure stood in the exact spot he had occupied a moment before, murmuring softly, "Ye Min, long time no see."

The Demonic Maple wore dark garments embroidered with the motifs of the four auspicious beasts, his hair cascading loose. The scars on his face had reappeared, and his dark red eyes were widened to their absolute limit. Bearing an expression of ecstatic, frenzied excitement, the Demonic Maple gazed with lingering attachment upon Yan Yunqing's face, the tip of his tongue sweeping across lips unnaturally crimson.

Frowning, Yan Yunqing gazed at the fiend before him who made no effort to conceal his demonic aura. Indeed, his internal suspicions were confirmed—it was undoubtedly those from the Demonic Domain who were stirring up trouble. White mist billowed from Yan Yunqing's hand, and the next moment, wielding a natural-born ice sword, he launched a direct assault.

The chilling aura of the ice sword was biting; wherever it passed, everything froze solid. Beholding this intimately familiar scene, the Demonic Maple grew even more excited. Without dodging or parrying, he allowed Yan Yunqing's ice sword to pierce straight through his chest. A mouthful of blood violently spewed from the Demonic Maple's lips, yet the curve of his smile grew wider still. "Ye Min, you are still just as naive!" Feeling the creeping frost gradually freezing his body, the Demonic Maple's inner elation deepened. Having discarded his heart when he ascended to demonhood, what use was an attack directed at his chest?

As the Demonic Maple became completely encased in ice, Yan Yunqing withdrew his sword and turned to leave. With a sharp crack, the Demonic Maple shattered the ice and burst outward. Fascination gleamed in his eyes as he looked upon the blood flowing from his own chest; reaching out to smear a portion onto his finger, he lightly tasted it. Indeed, the blood of the person before him tasted far superior! Clenching his fist, the Demonic Maple lunged straight ahead to attack. Yan Yunqing whirled around, intending to counterattack, but the Demonic Maple's onslaught was intercepted by the Black Slave. The Demonic Maple's expression instantly turned icy, and spitting out a mouthful of foul blood, he snarled, "Mere half-demon, get out of this lord's way!"

The Black Slave offered a polite smile. "Apologies, but duty dictates. Protecting Madam is my bounden obligation."

Glancing at the Demonic Maple, the Black Slave turned his attention to Yan Yunqing and advised, "People of the Demonic Domain are insidious and vicious. Madam would do well to exercise caution."

Yan Yunqing froze for a fraction of a second before understanding dawned upon him. That person had sent individuals to protect him. Given the perilous circumstances, Yan Yunqing could not offer a refutation. "Thank you for the trouble."

Astonishment was written plainly across Chi's face; usually sharp-tongued and eloquent, he stammered for once. Pointing straight at Yan Yunqing, he blurted out, "Th-th-this, this is Madam?"

Catching the Black Slave's helpless sideways glance and affirmative nod, Chi drew in a sharp breath, turned his head, and cast a flirtatious wink at Yan Yunqing. Pulling his already revealing red robes even lower, he smoothed a lock of hair by his ear, hooked his fingers into an affected orchid gesture, and drawled in a syrupy, affected tone, "Oh, my lord, you are so naughty! You knew all along and yet you refused to tell me! They say a single day of matrimony brings a hundred days of grace—how could you treat me this way!"

Paying no heed to the Black Slave's darkening expression and the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, Chi narrowed his alluring phoenix eyes and stepped in front of the Black Slave. "In front of Madam, I cannot let you steal all the glory! This half-human, half-demon bastard—leave him to me!"