Chương 21: The Truth

Boom! An explosion sounded overhead. Fang Cheng vaguely saw the image of a silver spear growing larger before his eyes.

"Hang on, Fang!" It was Han Bingxuan's voice. Fang Cheng felt himself being pulled, and suddenly he was in the air. The wind roared past his ears, tousling his hair and jolting him back to his senses. He saw Han Bingxuan gripping his shoulder, flying through the air, heading toward the eastern district. Below them, countless maddened people stretched out their hands, crying and struggling.

"My lord, don't go! So hungry... wuwuwu... so hungry..." Han Bingxuan's face was grim. He turned to Fang Cheng.

"We have to hurry. We need to stop this tragedy."

"What the hell is going on?" Fang Cheng asked. Han Bingxuan explained as they flew.

"I've been watching from the shadows. When I saw Yuan Min dead this morning, I suspected someone was silencing witnesses. So I went to the coffin maker's shop early and took him away. The coffin maker, whether out of gratitude or fear, hurried to redraw the plans. By evening, I had the complete design. I sent the plans by flying sword to a colleague skilled in formations. He confirmed my suspicion. It's a ritual to summon a Heavenly Demon. Zhang Ruilin's spirit was destroyed to make room for that demon's body.

The Heavenly Demon will descend using Zhang Ruilin's body. If the ritual succeeds, it will bring disaster. White Flower City could become a living hell. Fang, we have to destroy Zhang Ruilin's coffin and his body. We must stop the demon from descending!" Listening to Han Bingxuan, Fang Cheng could feel his blood pumping. Time to save the world once more. Awesome! But wait – why did I say "once more"? That's weird.

And what's even weirder is that I should be thrilled right now, but Demon Sword, why aren't you feeling the same? Fang Cheng was puzzled. The sword had been dead all night. When had it started? Around the time he'd been watching Chen Yalan undress? Seriously? A bare shoulder and you're out of commission? While Fang Cheng silently scolded his sword, Han Bingxuan raced to the crabapple pear forest. Below, the ground writhed with people, dense as maggots on a corpse.

They clung to each other, piled layer upon layer like ants, forming a massive mound of human flesh that surrounded and buried Zhang Ruilin's grave. The mound grew higher and higher.

"Lord Zhang, our City God, our great benefactor! You died so cruelly, and we can't avenge you!"

"City God, open your eyes! My parents are dead! Wuwuwu... take me with you!"

"City God, please! Let us die together! We'll serve you forever in the underworld!" Wails of despair rose from the crowd, so mournful that even heaven seemed to weep tears of blood. Fang Cheng opened his hands to catch the rain. It was crabapple pear blossoms, dripping with crimson sap. Blood rain fell on the human mound, splashing into tiny red flowers that gleamed eerily in the moonlight. Han Bingxuan looked at the people below. They were ordinary mortals, their minds seized by the ritual's pull.

If they could destroy the formation on the coffin, the people would regain their senses. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. But these people protected the grave with their own bodies. To reach the formation, Han Bingxuan would have to cut through them. How? Han Bingxuan sighed, his eyes hardening.

"Fang, we'll have to kill. Are you afraid?"

"You mean... we kill all of them?" Fang Cheng's excitement was barely contained.

"Sometimes, sacrifices are necessary." Han Bingxuan's voice was heavy, but his gaze grew firmer. He raised his silver spear. Seeing Fang Cheng frozen, he urged, "I know you're chivalrous. You don't want to see so many die. But Fang, if you don't act, they'll devour you. Don't forget, back at the temple, it was a mob just like this that overwhelmed you." Fang Cheng grimaced.

"I want to fight, but my sword... it won't cooperate. Without it, I'm useless." Han Bingxuan didn't fully understand, but time was short. He charged alone at the human mound. His spear struck and was repelled by a powerful force.

"What?" Han Bingxuan looked down. In the darkness, a shadow rose from the mound, forming a pale face, Zhang Ruilin's. He stared coldly at Han Bingxuan, a sinister smile on his lips. Destroying the mound wouldn't be easy. Han Bingxuan's eyes sharpened. He channeled all his Divine Energy, manifesting a towering Dharma Manifestation of the Everlasting Emperor behind him. The Dharma Manifestation held a massive silver spear and thrust it at the black mist. Fang Cheng was secretly stunned.

A Heaven-and-Earth Dharma Manifestation! Han Bingxuan was actually a Sixth Realm cultivator. Meanwhile, without his demon sword, he was just a pathetic Second Level weakling. Boom! Boom! Boom! Three strikes. Each was deflected. The shockwaves shook the Dharma Manifestation, making it tremble as if about to collapse. Han Bingxuan's face flushed red, blood trickling from his mouth. The backlash had wounded him. He roared at Zhang Ruilin's face in the mist:"Why?!"

"Why would you trade your life for a Heavenly Demon? Does your years of cultivation mean nothing?"

"Look at these people! Look at their suffering! Zhang Ruilin, how can you bear this?!" Under Han Bingxuan's fury, Zhang Ruilin seemed to turn. He looked at the people, men and women, young and old, their faces filled with despair and pleading. And he laughed. Hahaha. Good. They all died well. Die with me. Hahaha. His laughter was infectious. Everyone laughed. The City God laughed, so they laughed too. Their mouths opened wide, blooming like flowers, their smiles hideous and bright.

"Zhang Ruilin, your sins are beyond counting!" Han Bingxuan roared again, swinging his spear with increasing fury. But the mound stood firm.

"Ahhh!" Han Bingxuan knelt, his fists clenched, nails digging into his palms. His body trembled with rage. He spat a mouthful of blood. He'd given everything. His Divine Energy was nearly spent. Still, it wasn't enough.

"Even if you bear resentment toward the Hall of Eternal Life, you shouldn't take it out on these people. How are you any different from them?" Han Bingxuan shook his head, his voice filled with regret. If he'd come to White Flower City sooner, if he'd discovered the formation earlier, he could have stopped this.

"Zhang Ruilin, this wasn't worth it. You shouldn't have killed yourself..."

"Exactly! Zhang Ruilin shouldn't have killed himself!" Fang Cheng shouted excitedly, running to Han Bingxuan and shaking his shoulders.

"But he already did. It's too late." Han Bingxuan said.

"No! He's not dead!" Fang Cheng argued. He'd finally pieced it together.

"Chen Yalan is Zhang Ruilin! He took over his wife's body, just like the Heavenly Demon was supposed to take over his. That has to be it! No cultivator would willingly commit suicide!"

"Fang, are you sure?" Han Bingxuan was skeptical.

"Positive." Fang Cheng explained.

"I read Chen Yalan's journal. Her entries don't show any signs of obsessive-compulsive disorder. But her room is arranged exactly like an obsessive's would be. Bedding, teacups, everything on her vanity, all perfectly aligned. If anything is off, she fixes it immediately. That's not her. It's her husband. The noodle shop owner said Zhang Ruilin counted out every coin when paying. He's the obsessive one! Yes, that's it! And that journal. Chen Yalan wrote it for Zhang Ruilin.

She knew he'd take over her body, so she recorded all her habits to help him blend in." Han Bingxuan replied, "Fang, even if Zhang Ruilin is alive in some form, what can we do? The formation has already started. Everyone in White Flower City, including us, is going to die."

"Zhang Ruilin doesn't want to die. He must have a way out. Let's find him. Maybe we can get him to tell us how to destroy the formation." Fang Cheng continued, "And if he knows nothing, you can just run him through. At least we'll take someone with us." Han Bingxuan hesitated, then agreed. They raced back to Zhang Ruilin's home. They passed through the main hall, crossed the courtyard, and hurried to the last room at the end of the corridor, where Chen Yalan rested. Creak. The door opened.

Chen Yalan stood there in red robes, two bright red flowers pinned in her hair. She leaned against the tea table, taking a leisurely sip of tea. She looked up at Fang Cheng and Han Bingxuan outside the door, a mocking smile curling her lips.

"You two idiots. You came to die after all."