Chapter Fourteen: The Sorrows of the Mortal World

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In Jiulong Village, Longmen City, Qinxia Province, China, once a little mountain hamlet, its existence was largely unnoticed. Due to its remote location and poor transport, the villagers had little contact with the outside world; many had never seen anything beyond these mountains. After the catastrophic mudslide, the government abruptly halted reconstruction, relocating all villagers elsewhere. The elderly, reluctant to abandon their ancestral home, required much persuasion, but ultimately the resettlement was handled smoothly. Yet what puzzled provincial and municipal leaders was that this relocation was managed entirely by the central government, with unusual attention.

On the night all villagers departed, military helicopters began to circle low overhead, their purpose unclear.

Luo Longyu knew nothing of these events. He had no idea how long he had been dead before consciousness slowly returned. His head was foggy, his body prone in the earth, and in a haze he glimpsed a beautiful figure, surrounded by a gentle, celestial glow that brought comfort to his heart.

“Mother... is that you?” Luo Longyu asked.

The woman did not reply, only smiled at him. Though her features were indistinct, Luo Longyu sensed her smile—a strange intuition.

He tried to reach for her, but found himself unable to move.

She floated closer, gently pressing a finger to his brow. That touch fell like thunder from the heavens; his mind felt as though it had exploded. Apocalyptic visions seized his consciousness: a sky torn asunder, fallen warships, monstrous beings rampaging, godlike figures locked in battle with divine creatures, unleashing terrifying light, dragons roaring, phoenixes mourning, the earth ravaged, mountains of corpses, seas of blood—a sight too dreadful to bear.

In this boundless despair, Luo Longyu’s awareness seemed to traverse billions of years. He saw countless beings wielding immense power, some godlike, some demonic, their mere gestures able to destroy worlds. He witnessed one figure punch through a galaxy, crushing warships deep into the starry river. Another impaled a grotesque monster and cast it into a blazing star—merciless and fierce.

At last, all was stilled. Only a solitary figure remained in the universe. His eyes shone with silver light, his face streaked with blood, gazing up at the shattered night sky. His gaze pierced history and space, falling upon a grave, which slowly receded and vanished into the darkness of the cosmos, leaving no trace.

The next moment, Luo Longyu felt himself embraced in warmth. A gentle, doting voice whispered in his ear: “Longyu, my child, I have sent you on this path. I hope you will understand me. Calamity is near, the House of Xuanyuan is falling. If there were another way, I would not have restarted the Path of Corpses. The road ahead will be hard. Remember, you are my child, the sole proof I ever existed in this world. Do not lose your way. The Nine Styles of Heaven-Slaying—use them well. Whether with tenderness or iron resolve, whatever method you choose, I will support you...”

“Ah!” The words broke off. Luo Longyu felt himself plunging into a bottomless abyss, then abruptly awakened.

All around was darkness. He steadied himself as clarity returned to his mind, tried to move, but thick earth weighed him down.

The midnight forest was eerily silent. After the flood and mudslide, once-dense woods were now barren, the air heavy and oppressive. Thunder rumbled in the distance—a storm brewing.

“Crack!”

As blood-red lightning tore the night sky, a pale hand clawed up through the soil, its fingers curved, rendered terrifying by the flash of lightning.

A second hand emerged, earth heaving up. As the rain poured down, a figure sat up from the ground, mud washed away by the deluge. The figure stood, radiating a fierce aura; twin flashes of silver light flickered and vanished.

Standing amidst the storm, Luo Longyu’s gaze was chilling, sending a shiver down the spine. Only after a long moment did he regain his composure.

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“The Nine Styles of Heaven-Slaying...” Luo Longyu closed his eyes, recalling the visions—were they visions? They felt so real. He believed he had truly met his mother; though her face was unclear, the sense she gave was that of a mother. This feeling could not be described, perhaps an innate connection in the blood.

Thunder rolled across the heavens, as if countless troops were charging. Blood-red lightning cleaved the sky, exposing the barren land below.

Luo Longyu raised his head, closed his eyes, then slowly spread his arms, as if embracing the world. He sensed a mysterious power stirring within him. Though unfamiliar with its use, Luo Longyu believed he would soon master it, for his mother’s guidance lingered unseen.

“Hah...” Luo Longyu exhaled deeply, clenched his fist toward the sky. Instantly, the rain ceased, thunder fell silent. Following his mother’s guidance, he drew all fluctuations inward, the silver light in his eyes condensed into two silver seals and disappeared.

At that moment, Luo Longyu became like stone, like air—he did not exist. Yes, except for being visible, no one could sense him. He was as if absent from the world.

At the Xuan Yi Center, Elder Ge frowned as Luo Longyu’s presence vanished from the radar. He sensed Luo Longyu had successfully inherited the Path of Corpses. Previously, Luo Longyu’s aura had vanished for a long time, but just minutes ago it reappeared—now, it had disappeared again.

“Fifth Young Master,” Elder Ge said gravely.

Beside him, Tong Fifth Young Master nodded. “I understand.” He closed his eyes, then abruptly opened them; two strange vortices swirled in his gaze, his eyes becoming hollow and bottomless, as though absorbing all past and present.

The surrounding soldiers were already accustomed to such scenes.

After a moment, Tong Fifth Young Master’s eyes returned to normal. He shook his head in confusion. “Strange. I can’t find Brother Luo’s trace—not the slightest sign.”

“Is that so...” Elder Ge stroked his chin thoughtfully, then slowly smiled. It seemed Luo Longyu had indeed inherited the Path of Corpses.

The “Path of Corpses Manual” states: The Path of Corpses defies the Great Dao, thus heaven destroys and earth annihilates, survival is difficult. Therefore, it hides in a false body, preserves the corpse, becomes indistinguishable from ordinary people, sinks its aura like the sea, deceiving heaven and earth.

Tong Fifth Young Master, descendant of the ancient Tong clan, possesses the Reincarnation Heavenly Eyes, able to detect all movements in heaven and earth—yet even he cannot locate Luo Longyu. Luo Longyu, lacking cultivation, certainly knows no secret methods of concealment. There is only one possibility: he has succeeded!

Thinking this, Elder Ge quickly contacted Long Shaoxian outside. “The time is ripe. Bring Luo Longyu back. I’ve sent you the coordinates where his aura last vanished. Hurry.”

“Understood.” Deep in the mountains, Long Shaoxian sat atop a peak, gazing at the shifting sea of clouds, then leaped off toward the designated coordinates.

Soon after Long Shaoxian disappeared, an owl swiftly flew in the same direction.

Luo Longyu departed the desolate place. At a stream blocked by rocks, he washed his face and looked at his reflection in the water—bloodless, lips tinged blue, as if just recovered from grave illness. He suddenly felt he no longer recognized himself. Everything that had happened felt like a dream. This world was no longer the one he once knew.

A chill crept up behind him. In the water’s reflection, he saw a red paper umbrella adorned with exquisite landscape paintings.

Turning around, he saw the same female ghost as before, gazing at him with a hint of contentment in her eyes.

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Luo Longyu frowned. “Why are you still here? Do you intend to harm others again?”

The ghost shook her head repeatedly. “You misunderstand, Divine Child. I harmed people before, but only those from this village. Years ago, I was killed by bandits. After liberation, many of those bandits became villagers. Most of today’s villagers are their descendants. I want to kill them all!” As she spoke, her resentment intensified, her eyes glowing with ghostly energy.

“What does their ancestors’ deeds have to do with them?” Luo Longyu replied indifferently, shaking water off his hands as he rose.

The ghost, watching him pass by, turned and said, “But Divine Child, have you forgotten how they treated you when you were young? They are guilty as well!”

“If you were one of them, wouldn’t you be wary of me? No one wants to die; they just want to live.” Luo Longyu spoke calmly. Having witnessed apocalyptic devastation, these matters now seemed trivial.

“I...” The ghost hesitated, lost in thought. Yes, if she were still alive, would she not fear Luo Longyu?

As she bowed her head in contemplation, Luo Longyu continued, “Abandon vengeance. Go reincarnate, as you ought. At least now you exist as a ghost. If you kill the villagers and anger the state, they’ll make sure you cease to exist entirely.” Luo Longyu was not exaggerating; any member of the Xuan Yi Pavilion could utterly erase this ghost.

“And you say most villagers are descendants of bandits. Does that mean I am one as well?” Luo Longyu turned to ask.

The ghost shook her head. “You are not. I can sense it—your aura was never theirs.”

“Then why did you try to kill me when we first met?” Luo Longyu asked.

The ghost was stunned, silent for a long time.

Luo Longyu smiled. “It seems... it’s true. Too much killing leads to losing oneself. Perhaps you don’t even know how many innocent people you’ve slain. If not for my mother, I suspect you’d have killed the entire village before I was born.”

“I... I did not...” The ghost lifted her head, but her voice was barely audible, lacking any conviction.

Luo Longyu took two steps forward. “What difference is there now between you and the bandits who harmed you? The apocalypse is near, the world is about to end. What will vengeance accomplish?”

Seeing Luo Longyu’s demeanor, the ghost retreated in terror, as though unable to believe she had grown so evil. She strained to recall how many people she had harmed; in truth, she could not even remember why she tried to kill Luo Longyu—she simply wanted to slay any living soul she saw.

“No... I haven’t... I haven’t killed the innocent, I haven’t!” The ghost seemed to collapse, suddenly her once delicate face split with bloody cracks, her eyes became two gaping pits of blood, her white robes stained scarlet. At this hour, she was terrifying; even Luo Longyu felt his scalp crawl and involuntarily stepped back.

Though he had inherited the Path of Corpses, his mind was still that of an ordinary man, no different from others. The sudden transformation startled him deeply...