Chapter 62 – Shattered Jade

Accompanying the figure that lunged forward was a brilliant, silvery flash of light. Zhang Xiuqi swung the short blade in his hand. This sword, named Suihou, was said to have been enshrined alongside several other divine weapons in the Weiyang Palace. Later, due to the chaos caused by Dong Zhuo, it was taken out of the palace and acquired by Zhang Sheng, a descendant of the Celestial Master lineage. Even within the deeply rooted Longhu Mountain, this sword was considered a rare and precious treasure, a coveted ritual instrument. However, Zhang Xiuqi seemed to have forgotten the proper way to wield this artifact. Without channeling spiritual energy, without incantations or talismans, he swung it as if it were an ordinary piece of iron.

Even without the support of spells, the Suihou Sword remained incredibly sharp. The blade’s light flashed like lightning, striking the bloated, rotting head of the Corpse Puppet. The head, already oozing yellow fluid, couldn’t withstand the sword’s sharp edge. The force of the blow tore off half of its skull, and the monster let out a shrill, agonized scream. Instead of attacking, it abandoned its prey, who had collapsed on the ground, and turned to flee. In such a situation, using formations or talismans would have been more effective, but Zhang Xiuqi didn’t resort to these methods. Instead, he struck out with his fist, the one holding the yellow talisman.

His knuckles cracked, and the talisman erupted with a silvery-white light. Zhang Xiuqi’s eyes had turned completely red, devoid of anything else, focused solely on the monstrous creature before him. One punch landed, followed by a second, then a third! Even with the talisman’s power, physical attacks had limited effect on the Corpse Puppet. The creature staggered back, struggling as its twisted, withered arm swung wildly, aiming to strike its attacker. But a jet of blood was faster. With a sizzling sound, the blood pierced the monster’s face, and two copper coins, carried by the wind, embedded themselves into the Corpse Puppet’s bulging eye sockets.

With a soft pop, the white, lifeless eyeball burst, and black blood gushed out, filling the air with a heavy stench of decay. As the Corpse Puppet howled in fury, Zhang Xiuqi sidestepped, his fingers sliding along the sword’s edge, smearing it with his own blood. The Suihou Sword let out a faint hum as it plunged into the creature’s abdomen.

There was one thing Wei Yang had always been right about. The Corpse Puppet was originally just a wet corpse, controlled by a malevolent soul. But if that soul mutated, it could indeed give birth to a Ghost Fetus. Having coexisted with the Three Corpses and been nurtured in an evil site for over a thousand years, this soul had developed a deeply sinister nature, allowing it to reincarnate by possessing a living body. Thus, the controller of this Corpse Puppet wasn’t in its heart or brain but in its abdomen!

A deafening Heaven-Breaking Sound erupted as the Suihou Sword pierced the Ghost Fetus. The shadowy figure hidden within the abdomen let out a piercing scream, and the Corpse Puppet’s entire body began to tremble, as if the evil soul within was in its death throes. At that moment, another punch landed, striking the creature’s Heavenly Yang acupoint. The human body has seven key acupoints—Yunken, Shangmao, Zichen, Shangyang, Tianyang, Yusu, and Taiyou—each corresponding to the stars of the Big Dipper, governing the flow of Yang energy within the body and serving as the foundation of the Yin-Yang balance. Stimulating these acupoints from the outside could stir the body’s true Yang energy and expel evil forces. Now, Zhang Xiuqi’s fists rained down like a storm, each blow striking one of the Corpse Puppet’s seven acupoints. The infant-like soul, already severely wounded, couldn’t withstand such an assault.

The dull thuds of punches echoed in the room, mixing with the yellow and black fluids that now formed a thick, muddy mess. Sun Muhua stood dumbfounded, staring at the scene before him. This was nothing like what he had imagined. Where was the calm and composed demeanor? The profound and mysterious aura? The kind of cool, movie-like presence he had expected? The scene before him no longer resembled a Celestial Master exorcising evil; it was more like two wounded beasts locked in a savage, bloody brawl.

The candlelight flickered, and Sun Muhua shivered, suddenly snapping out of his daze. He scrambled toward the figure lying on the floor, grabbing Wei Yang by the shoulders. “Brother Yang! Brother Yang, are you okay?!”

Wei Yang was far from okay. The violent shaking jolted him awake, his head spinning and his wounds throbbing with pain. The attack had been too vicious, and the Corpse Puppet was half a creature of death. The bruises around his neck had already swollen, forming a red, constricting ring that made it hard to breathe.

Despite his physical discomfort, Wei Yang’s mind remained clear. His heart raced as he weakly reached out to steady himself on Sun Muhua’s arm, forcing out two words through his constricted throat: “Brother Qi…”

Tears welled up in Sun Muhua’s eyes. “Brother Qi… he seems a bit off. He suddenly woke up and went berserk. He’s fighting the monster now. Brother Yang, you need to see this…”

Wei Yang didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. Brother Qi was awake? Was it already the fourth watch? A chill shot through him, piercing the fog in his mind. He struggled to sit up. “How could…”

As he moved, something slipped from his chest, landing on the floor with a crisp ding. Wei Yang froze, staring in disbelief at the shattered pieces of white jade. It was the jade pendant his parents—whom he had no memory of—had left him, the one he had worn for twenty years without ever taking it off. It was also the reason Master Zeng had entrusted the soul-deficient Little Celestial Master to him.

This jade talisman, which could ward off evil and seemed indestructible, had… shattered?

Wei Yang’s teeth clenched with a soft click. He raised his head, looking forward. The figure that had been furiously punching the Corpse Puppet suddenly stiffened, as if sensing something. Zhang Xiuqi turned his head stiffly, but his gaze didn’t land on Wei Yang as it usually did. Instead, it dropped downward, fixating on the shattered jade talisman. As if entranced, he stopped attacking the now motionless Corpse Puppet and shakily stood up, walking toward the shattered pieces.

Perhaps the fight with the Corpse Puppet had drained his strength, or perhaps the two remaining souls within him were still unstable as the sun had yet to rise. Zhang Xiuqi walked slowly, his steps unsteady, his body swaying. Drops of blood trickled down his arms and between his fingers, mixing with the yellow and black fluids, making him look utterly disheveled. Yet he paid no attention to this, simply walking step by step until he reached the shattered jade. His knees gave way, and he knelt beside the broken pieces. A blood-stained finger reached out, gently touching the fractured talisman.

“The talisman. Father…” Zhang Xiuqi blinked, his eyes, once red with rage, now brimming with tears that gathered and rolled down his cheeks. The tears, tinged with blood, left faint marks on the white jade.

Seeing the Little Celestial Master’s blank expression and his tears, Wei Yang felt a sharp, unbearable pain in his heart. He wasn’t afraid of getting hurt, nor would he hesitate to die for the man before him. But he had never imagined that the jade talisman, which had been with him for most of his life, would fail to withstand the evil and shatter.

This talisman was probably even more important to Brother Qi than it was to him. Without it, could he still hold onto this Little Celestial Master, who shouldn’t even exist in this world?

Wei Yang’s face turned as pale as paper. His lips trembled for a long moment before he finally reached out, his blood-stained hand gripping Zhang Xiuqi’s arm. “Brother Qi, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”

His voice was shaky and full of fear, but he didn’t get to finish. Zhang Xiuqi’s body swayed, and he collapsed forward. Wei Yang, still recovering from his own injuries and suffering from mild concussion, nonetheless caught the falling figure, staggering as they both tumbled to the ground.

“Brother Yang!” Sun Muhua cried out in alarm. “What’s wrong with Brother Qi? Are you two okay?”

Wei Yang ignored Sun Muhua’s exclamation, gritting his teeth as he struggled to sit up. He dragged Zhang Xiuqi’s unconscious body closer, checking his neck, pulse, and heartbeat before whispering, “Call an ambulance.”

“What? But we’re still trapped by those bad guys…” Sun Muhua’s words trailed off as he suddenly noticed the change in the sounds outside. At some point, the commotion downstairs had ceased, leaving only sporadic shouts and groans. In the distance, the wail of police sirens grew louder, signaling the approach of multiple police cars.

Right! In the middle of the night, with all the fighting, explosions, and Heaven-Breaking Sounds, the neighbors would have long since called the police. With the cops here, what was there to fear from those tomb raiders? Sun Muhua’s face lit up with relief, but then he froze. Wait, if the police had been called, how would the three of them explain the Corpse Puppet in the room and the dead bodies downstairs? None of this was something they could easily justify…

As if reading Sun Muhua’s thoughts, Wei Yang took a deep breath, forcing his voice to remain steady. “Call Director Sun. Let him handle this. First, find a hospital to treat our injuries!”

Though his voice was hoarse, there was a calm authority in his words that immediately steadied Sun Muhua’s panicked heart. Feeling as if he had found a lifeline, Sun Muhua scrambled to find a phone. Watching the young man’s frantic movements, Wei Yang remained still, his eyes lowering slightly.

Beside him, Zhang Xiuqi lay unconscious, his eyes closed, his forehead resting weakly on Wei Yang’s thigh. The wounds on his arms were a patchwork of blood and yellow or black fluids, a gruesome sight. Yet none of this was as painful as the faint red tear streak at the corner of Zhang Xiuqi’s eye. Wei Yang’s throat tightened, and he reached out, covering the closed eyes with his hand, hiding the tear.

The jade talisman was shattered. When Brother Qi woke up, would he forget him? Would he leave? Without this bond and “karmic connection,” what would remain between them? Wei Yang had always known that Zhang Xiuqi didn’t belong to the world he knew and was familiar with. He was more like a legendary figure from a novel, someone who would eventually leave, a “stranger from another world.”

Yet Wei Yang couldn’t bear to let him go, foolishly hoping to keep him by his side and walk together. But now, the jade talisman was shattered. What reason was there left to keep him?

The dampness on his palm burned, almost breaking his heart. Wei Yang blinked hard, bending down to press his forehead against the cold back of his hand.