Inner Demons

Chapter 15: My Head

The two weren't the scattered Taoist priests they claimed to be. Those two were also from the Lingxu Sword Sect - the Sect Master's third and fourth direct disciples.

Li Yunxin had no mind to weigh whether "the Sect Master's direct disciples were too weak" or "the formation left by my parents was too strong." He only knew that what he thought was already over now had complications arising.

Their junior brother was still alive and sounded quite powerful. If that person realized his two senior brothers were missing and decided to investigate, would he really trace it back to him?

He didn't quite understand the methods of "Immortal beings" yet, so he dared not make presumptions. But he was already wondering if the reason that person couldn't come here tonight to kill people for "Transcending Tribulation" was because he was investigating that matter.

What a pity. He had originally intended to escape after learning the details. But now that he knew these things - it was possible that the master behind these six swordsmen, "Huainanzi," would sense something amiss.

His life was at stake... One couldn't be too careful.

So...

These six people couldn't be left alive.

The effect of the "Brocade Robes at Night Journey Painting" had reached its peak. Old Daoist Liu, who was guiding the Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi, felt increasingly alarmed - he was considered a "master" who could paint Intent Realm works, but his creations compared to what was happening now...

It was like trash.The six people within the formation had completely lost themselves, controlled by some powerful emotion.

But Li Yunxin still felt it wasn't enough. After all, he had hastily put it together. According to his father, once this "Brocade Robes at Night Journey Painting" formation was complete, it should make those within it lose their true selves, so much so that even if one were to stab them, they would still be immersed in the illusory glory, unable to extricate themselves - certainly not like this.

So he still had to think of something else.

If he were to kill them.

Qiao Duanhong pushed aside the people around him and walked to Li Yunxin and Old Daoist Liu.

He first bowed deeply to Old Daoist Liu, then solemnly nodded to Li Yunxin, and then said: "I was blind and did not recognize Mount Tai, and I have been disrespectful to the Immortal along the way, please do not blame me."

He didn't even look at the six people who were talking excitedly and voluminously, his expression calm and composed, as if he had already entrusted his life to these two "masters."

The people from the security agency exchanged glances, but soon even the most obtuse person realized why their leader was doing this - the old man and the young man whom they had previously underestimated and mocked, were actually truly deeply hidden, and everything they did had profound meaning.

"May I ask the Immortal, what should we do now? Have those six people been subdued?" Qiao Duanhong was speaking to Old Daoist Liu.

Old Daoist Liu certainly couldn't answer that question. But fortunately, his acting skills were excellent. He simply raised his eyes slightly, stroked his beard, and said, "This humble Daoist is currently casting a spell and cannot speak much. Ask my apprentice. I have already told him all the key points of this formation."

"Not at all," Li Yunxin said.

He spoke quickly, his brow slightly furrowed, as if thinking about something. More so, he didn't want to give Qiao Duanhong a chance to dig deeper - for example, why a young man he met by chance on the road could now assist an "Immortal" in casting spells.

"Don't act rashly right now. You can talk and move a little, but don't think about running. Once you make big movements, these six people will be stimulated and regain consciousness. Right now, they think everything is under control, so they're showing off." Li Yunxin turned to look at Qiao Duanhong, and then at the few people behind him, "So, Mr. Qiao, what are the chances of you people launching a surprise attack and killing these six people the moment they regain consciousness?"

Qiao Duanhong was slightly startled. The young man's tone was so familiar.

It wasn't that it sounded like a specific person, but rather like... the kind of tone of someone accustomed to giving orders, to directing others to do things.

He realized that his previous speculation about the young man's identity was completely wrong. This was probably... not a simple child from a merchant family. Perhaps he was the young master of some noble household. But what was his relationship with Old Daoist Liu? From the current situation... the two seemed to have an unspoken understanding already.

He quickly cupped his hands: "I don't deserve the title, I am a coarse man, dare not be called 'mister'. As for a sneak attack..."

Qiao Duanhong's face flushed slightly: "I'm afraid... not a single one would succeed. Maybe two or three people could be injured. But perhaps the young master doesn't quite understand these things - these six people are all considered second-rate masters in the martial arts world. They are truly one in a thousand. Although we people..."

"Hmm, I see." Li Yunxin interrupted him, "Then we'll have to find another way."

There was no emotional fluctuation on his face, which made Qiao Duanhong feel hurt. Of course, he didn't expect such a young gentleman to understand what a "second-rate master" meant.

In legends and strange tales, swordsmen are often described as flying high and leaping over rooftops, and a "first-rate master" is merely a supporting character in stories circulating in the streets and alleys. As for "second-rate masters," in the eyes of laymen, it was a genuinely derogatory term.

But the reality was that an ordinary person with mediocre talent, who started practicing martial arts from a young age, with dedicated personnel managing their herbs and diet, learning from a "famous master," and studying excellent techniques, might only barely touch the edge of "third-rate master" by adulthood.

To become a second-rate master, one needed not only a privileged environment and opportunities but also talent.

As for a first-rate master... that was truly a rare phoenix among ten thousand.

Qiao Duanhong felt that his own talent was decent, he had been diligent in his youth, and his family was well-off - at his age, barely touching the edge of a second-rate master, he was quite content.

At least among the several security agencies in Luocheng, his skill ranked high.

But he felt that this young man probably didn't know these things. Perhaps the young man was of noble birth, cultivated magic spells from a young age, and wouldn't be interested in practicing martial arts.

Most noble families in the city were like this - admiring immortals and following the Dao, they were very fond of learning "meditation and breath regulation" from cultivators. Although they didn't get the proper methods and merely followed the trend, they were always uninterested in the art of physical exertion.

He could only cup his hands again, keeping an eye on Old Daoist Liu's reaction, and tentatively asked: "Then... is there anything else we can help with?"

Old Daoist Liu remained silent and enigmatic, Li Yunxin thought for a moment: "I do have a plan—"

He broke off mid-sentence.

The wind in the forest suddenly grew stronger.

There had already been wind. Spring winds are strong, and even in such a dense forest, there was still a breeze.

But this wind was strange - it carried a chilling coldness.

The wind swept close to the ground, circling everyone. The two bonfires dimmed simultaneously, and the leaves rustled loudly.

Old Daoist Liu's beard was blown upward, but he had no time to worry about it. Because at the moment the wind rose, he suddenly discovered that the spiritual energy flow within the formation was chaotic.

So the six swordsmen, who had been speaking voluminously, hesitated, slowed their speech, then looked at each other and awkwardly fell silent.

The next moment, these six killers, freed from the formation's control, finally realized something was wrong. The high-cheekboned, narrow-eyed swordsman frowned: "There's a master - kill them first!"

Almost simultaneously, a shrill, eerie, yet ethereal voice, accompanied by that sinister wind, echoed in everyone's ears—

"I died such a tragic death—"

The swordsman's impending attack halted again due to this sound.

Old Daoist Liu's eyes widened, his lips trembling slightly.

Qiao Duanhong and the security agency crew looked around blankly, trying to figure out if they had misheard.

Li Yunxin sighed.

Classic ghost movie opening.

So the next line would probably be...

"Give me back my head..."

When this second sound echoed in the night and the dense forest, even the blade of the most ruthless swordsman's sword began to tremble slightly.

In such a world, even the most knowledgeable people - not including true cultivators, of course - couldn't be bombarded with as much information as in Li Yunxin's era. Li Yunxin knew the typical three-step routine of a female ghost's appearance, knew the legends of water monsters in rivers, dragon kings in the sea, Yama in the underworld, and golden immortals in the heavens, knew what the emperor's life was like, what high officials' lives were like, and what wealthy families' lives were like.

He could even experience aesthetic fatigue, for example, after hearing the female ghost's two sentences, he thought to himself—

Oh, this routine again.

So even though he was surprised by "I'm finally going to see a real ghost for the first time in this world," his fear was far less than that of others.

And then...

The female ghost appeared in a very classic manner—

A woman in white, with her arms held out, walked lightly from behind a clump of low bushes. There were large patches of blood on her body, constantly dripping onto the ground. But her head wasn't on her body - a bowl-sized wound on her neck, revealing bone fragments, trachea, and blood vessels.

Her head was on the ground. It rolled four or five steps in front of her, clattering. Both eyes were still open, skewed, looking back at her body.

So the body followed the rolling head, swaying forward, walking and emitting a sharp, mournful cry—

"Give me back my head..."