Yellow Skinned Taoist Master

Chapter 74: Life-Slaying Sword Formula!

"Elder Brother!!!"

Silver-Horn's eyes looked ready to shatter, and it let out a howl of shattering grief.

It watched its elder brother's head roll across the ground. Watched that skin-and-bone frame lose all life in it. It felt a pain in its chest so severe it nearly drove it mad.

"Wuuuuu..."

Silver-Horn howled toward the sky: "Elder Brother, you died so wretchedly! Chen Huangpi — every evil you've done will come back to you!"

"Right — Chen Huangpi!"

Silver-Horn seemed to think of something and swung its head to fix Chen Huangpi with a stare from all eight beast-eyes, every single one brimming with red. As if blood tears might drip from them at any moment.

But — both it and Golden-Horn were unusual creatures now. They were no longer the flesh-and-blood Sons of Diting from before. How could they shed blood tears?

Chen Huangpi cocked his head: "What are you going to do?"

"Your oath just now still counts, right?""Of course it counts. I never voluntarily break agreements."

"Good. I believe you. You're a good person."

Silver-Horn said in all seriousness: "You've killed my elder brother — but that means you can't kill me now."

Besides — Elder Brother was already dead. May as well think of it as him going back to the Yellow Springs and the Yin Lands.

Chen Huangpi was momentarily stumped.

This Silver-Horn's brain. Was a little bit wrong.

He was clearly the master, and they were supposed to be the hounds. Their minds were connected — but what came off Silver-Horn's mind was too erratic and too out-of-nowhere.

The brass oil lamp said in disbelief: "Silver-Horn — if your elder brother heard what you just said, he probably couldn't die peacefully."

"Doesn't matter. I don't care."

Silver-Horn said matter-of-factly: "If I were in Elder Brother's position, it would do the same. We have different fathers and different mothers, but we are still blood brothers. I could see through it from the womb."

Saying that, it looked down at Golden-Horn's massive beast-head, which had rolled over beside it. All eight eyes were glaring furiously — looking very much like it had not died with any peace. It was genuinely pitiful to see.

"Elder Brother — you've had it rough. You know I have a small heart — I can't look at things like this. It'll give me nightmares."

Silver-Horn said that, and then slapped Golden-Horn's head and sent it flying.

But — the chains of mountain-top copper threaded through Golden-Horn's horn pulled taut the instant it flew, and yanked it straight back.

In a remarkable coincidence — it landed directly on Silver-Horn's head.

Silver-Horn exploded in fury: "You old dog — how dare you humiliate me like this! I, Second Elder, am going to eat you alive!"

But just as it said that — Golden-Horn's head began to tremble.

And then a head trailing ghostly energy pushed its way out from inside.

Golden-Horn opened its fang-filled mouth and roared: "SILVER-HORN!!!!"

"AUGH — the dead are walking!!!"

Silver-Horn screamed, leaping like a cat whose tail had been stepped on — except it had no tail, so its phantom limb gave a sympathetic throb, and in pain it immediately leapt onto the foundation stones, transformed back into a statue, and went completely still.

"A pity."

Chen Huangpi shook his head.

The Dog Rearing Scripture was truly something twisted. After killing Golden-Horn with a single sword strike — it could even keep enslaving its dead soul.

Alive, you are my hound. Dead, you are still my hound.

The brass oil lamp was confused: "A pity? Didn't this work out? We've got a pathfinder for the Yellow Springs and the Yin Lands now."

Hearing that, Golden-Horn's soul immediately understood the implications.

It felt like it had died and come back — though in such a strange state — but its mind was clearer than before. No longer the haze it had felt as an unusual creature. In an instant all eight eyes went sweeping around, and it quietly pricked up its ears.

Chen Huangpi said: "Whether it succeeded or failed was fifty-fifty — and since Golden-Horn succeeded, that means Silver-Horn is the one that had to fail. Hence — a pity."

Golden-Horn suddenly understood, and felt overwhelmed with relief.

Silver-Horn's expression caved in, its heart a sea of pain.

"Elder brother..."

"Younger brother..."

The two of them looked at each other. Said nothing. And yet it felt like everything had been said.

Golden-Horn said in the depths of its heart: "Silver-Horn — don't worry. I will definitely enjoy your share of everything in the Yellow Springs and the Yin Lands. You rest easy here in the mortal world as a hostage, and don't think of me."

After all — they were brothers. No real grudge. Their bickering and jabs had always been surface-level at most.

Golden-Horn bellowed at its headless body, producing a sound just like the Life-reaping Ghost — a sound that shared an origin with the nether script, both rooted in the Yellow Springs and Yin Lands. The body shuddered a few times, and the remaining half of its soul climbed out from within. Golden-Horn's head pressed up against the soul — and that ghost-like body became vivid and animate once more.

"Let's go, let's go!"

"Wait a moment."

Chen Huangpi shook his head, and looked toward the doors of the Scripture Pavilion.

Coming here this time — beyond his aim of taking one of Golden-Horn and Silver-Horn — he had other things on his mind.

With that thought, Chen Huangpi glanced at the brass oil lamp.

Just that one look. The brass oil lamp quietly prepared the Divine Flash.

"Go on in — don't worry. I'm here."

"Right."

Chen Huangpi nodded and pushed open the doors of the Scripture Pavilion.

A wave of musty, bone-cold air immediately swept over him.

Looking inside — the first floor of the Scripture Pavilion was unchanged from before. Scattered bookshelves. Daoist scriptures and wordless technique scrolls strewn across the floor.

The Scripture Pavilion was large. But only half of it remained now — the other half had been cleaved away by a sword strike, leaving only this much.

Chen Huangpi looked at the dark void at the wound. In the darkness, something seemed to sense his arrival — and was gradually encroaching toward him.

Chen Huangpi held the Demon Tree branch in sword-form and said coldly: "Stop where you are."

The darkness halted.

As if whatever evil spirits had been pushing that dark region forward had all immediately stood down. Chen Huangpi felt a small measure of relief. If it kept coming, he would have the brass oil lamp take him away without hesitation, just as last time.

Now, staring into that dense, impenetrable black fog, Chen Huangpi could vaguely make out silhouettes. Those figures — all of them were once Daoist priests of the Pure Immortal Temple. Dead and trapped here.

"Xu Qingshan!"

Chen Huangpi said coldly: "I have no old grudge or fresh enmity with you. You are a Daoist priest of the Pure Immortal Temple, and I am the Pure Immortal Temple's only heir. I will ask you plainly — was the Seven-Jeweled Esoteric Elixir Scripture tampered with?"

"Was it Third Master who had you do it?"

Last time he had come to the Scripture Pavilion, he had come looking for an alchemy scripture. But all the written text on cultivation had been erased from inside. Instead, the evil spirit Xu Qingshan had given him a copy of the Seven-Jeweled Esoteric Elixir Scripture. At the time, Chen Huangpi was not yet suspicious by nature. He had simply thought the world had more good people than bad. Now, having suffered for it, he had naturally learned from the lesson — and his view of things had grown considerably darker.

It was as if in response to his words — rustle, rustle, rustle — the sound of pages turning rose again, and a trace of ink-smell drifted out from the darkness.

Chen Huangpi held his breath.

Then he watched as Xu Qingshan's pale, bloodless hand reached out from the dark, holding a single sheet of paper.

On the paper were four characters.

Not my fault.

"Very well."

Chen Huangpi said calmly: "Nothing to do with you — then it was Third Master."

At those words, Xu Qingshan's hand extended another sheet of paper. This time, two sentences were written on it: Do not dare to comment on this. The elixir formula has no errors.

Chen Huangpi understood: these evil spirits — like everything else here — dared not comment on his master. Because the moment anyone spoke of him, the master would hear.

But the elixir formula having no errors — that was absolutely impossible. Otherwise, why would First Master and Second Master have ended up as they were?

Chen Huangpi said with disappointment: "If you refuse to tell the truth — I won't force you. Do as you see fit."

He turned and walked away. The presences behind him made no attempt to stop him.

Only after he had gone did the darkness slowly drift back to its original position.

……

Inside the Old Temple.

Cyan mist everywhere as before.

Chen Huangpi rode Golden-Horn with the brass oil lamp, searching for an exit.

He had grown considerably in recent times. No longer the eight or nine-year-old he had looked. He now looked like a boy of eleven or twelve.

Golden-Horn was all skin and bone — but its frame was enormous. Its head was monstrous and savage, all eight eyes blazing with killing energy, topped by a single towering horn that immediately made anyone who looked at it uneasy.

Chen Huangpi riding Golden-Horn actually cut a rather impressive and spirited figure.

"Chen Huangpi — comfortable ride?"

"Pretty comfortable."

"It gets even better!"

Golden-Horn said proudly: "I am a Son of Diting — naturally I have extraordinary qualities. Not only was I born able to ride clouds and mist, I also dissolve freely in water. When we return to the Yellow Springs and the Yin Lands, I'll be able to grow a new body — and then when you ride me, we'll be an unstoppable pair."

"Mm, mm."

Chen Huangpi smiled weakly and said nothing more, clearly with something weighing heavily on his mind.

At this point, the brass oil lamp hanging at his waist reached up and tugged at his robe.

"Master — don't torment yourself. That Xu Qingshan is a worthless creature. Treat everything it said as wind."

"I know. It's just..."

Chen Huangpi shook his head: "I keep feeling like something is wrong somewhere. I can't put it into words. But something is definitely not right."

"Then let it go for now."

The brass oil lamp said with genuine care: "You've grown a great deal already. Becoming too mature in spirit isn't good for you either. Other children your age are still just children. At your age... actually... you're still younger than me. There's no need to strive so hard to be old beyond your years."

"You have all the time you need to grow up. I'll be with you — until the day comes when you no longer need me."

At that, Chen Huangpi frowned immediately: "That won't happen, Huang Er. You're my family. I won't leave you behind."

"..."

The brass oil lamp went quiet. It had only been speaking from the heart. But Chen Huangpi had said "family" in response, and the lamp found itself struggling to hold it together.

Guanzhu was family too. Now he was stone cold, his corpse stiff.

Golden-Horn and Silver-Horn were family too. Now one was waiting pitifully in the Scripture Pavilion, and the other had just been beheaded.

So what kind of family did Chen Huangpi mean?

The brass oil lamp dared not think too carefully. All it could say was — hopefully at best.

At this moment, Chen Huangpi suddenly looked ahead and said: "I see the exit — Golden-Horn, fast! Through that courtyard gate and we'll leave the Old Temple."

"ROAR!!!"

Golden-Horn let out an excited howl and shot forward like a bolt of lightning, rushing straight for the gate.

Its head punched through the darkness, and its horn felt the outside air.

And just at this moment — Chen Huangpi felt an explosion of warning down his spine. His mind erupted with alarm.

Something is wrong.

The next second, without a moment's hesitation, he tightened his grip on the dried branch and unleashed a single sword strike into the cyan mist behind and to his right.

This one strike drained every last drop of the Demon Tree's power returned to him today.

The cyan mist was blasted apart by the sword qi.

Then — boom.

Chunks of bloodless pale flesh mixed with shattered bone fragments scattered in every direction.

And arm after arm — all the same pale, bloodless white — pushed through the mist.

Every single arm, at the same moment, formed a hand seal.

Life-Slaying Sword Formula — Soul-Slaying!