Chapter Fifteen: Cause of Death

In the short term, using the Great Shift of Heaven and Earth would be no problem, but over a longer period, that would change. Yang Wenhao’s speed increased, but the shadowy figure was no slouch either. Just as he was about to catch up, the shadow suddenly vanished.

Seeing this, Yang Wenhao immediately drew his sword from his item space, his eyes warily scanning the surroundings.

Suddenly, a cold wind swept by. In the darkness, a shadow came at him like a wraith. Yang Wenhao hastily sidestepped and slashed with his sword. The blade passed straight through the shadow’s waist—had it been a living person, they would have been cleaved in two. Yet the shadow remained unharmed, as if the sword had never touched it at all.

Yang Wenhao’s brows knitted. If he guessed correctly, this shadow was likely the “wraith” the system had mentioned. But in the next instant, the shadow vanished before his eyes as if it had never appeared. Moments earlier, the same thing had happened; had Yang Wenhao not reacted quickly, he would have been caught.

He stayed on high alert.

“System, is there any way to deal with this situation?” he asked inwardly.

“System prompt: The Supreme True Qi cultivated by the host can harm wraiths.”

“Good.” Yang Wenhao immediately gathered his true qi into his sword, waiting for the shadow to appear again.

Another cold wind blew. Yang Wenhao sensed an opportunity and struck out with his sword. This time, the shadow seemed to ignore the blade and came straight at him. Yang Wenhao snorted coldly—this was no ordinary sword now.

A shrill scream split the night. The shadow clutched its arm, glaring at him with venomous hatred. “You deserve to die!”

“Let’s see how you plan to kill me,” Yang Wenhao replied, surging forward in a flash with the Great Shift of Heaven and Earth. He appeared before the shadow and brought his sword down.

“You—” The shadow clearly hadn’t expected such ruthlessness and immediately turned invisible, fleeing.

“Trying to escape? Dream on.” Yang Wenhao’s attack suddenly shifted—he jabbed with a finger. The shadow, focused solely on dodging the sword, was caught off guard by the change.

Yet after being struck, the shadow seemed unaffected, slipping away once more.

“What did you do to me?” it demanded, reappearing several meters away, confusion in its eyes.

“What did I do? Try and see for yourself,” Yang Wenhao replied, a faint smile on his lips. With a thought, the shadow, already missing an arm, suddenly contorted in agony, its face twisted with unbearable pain.

“You—” The shadow’s whole body convulsed.

“I truly am a genius,” Yang Wenhao laughed. This was the Phantom Yin Finger, or more accurately, a variation of it. Knowing the shadow was a ghost, he’d injected pure yang energy instead of cold yin energy. When such pure yang true qi enters a ghost’s body, unless the ghost has a way to counter it, the pain is excruciating.

Once struck, the victim’s life becomes subject to the wielder’s will—a veritable death sentence.

“Enough!” came a deep voice.

Yang Wenhao looked over to see that, at some point, a middle-aged man had appeared beside the shadow.

He was a master, and his strength was by no means inferior to Yang Wenhao’s.

“You’re the one behind this shadow?” Yang Wenhao asked.

The man replied, “You could say that. Still, I ask that you show mercy.”

“Then tell me—what did you do with Zhuo Youxuan’s body?”

“Zhuo Youxuan’s body?” The man looked surprised. “You’re investigating that as well?”

Yang Wenhao eyed him suspiciously.

The man said, “I ask that you release my ghost.”

Yang Wenhao scoffed. “Why should I?”

The man cupped his hands and bowed. “If you do, I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Yang Wenhao’s gaze was cold. “I’ll trust you this once. If you deceive me, I have a hundred ways to kill you both.”

He hated being lied to—just as with Abbess Miejue before.

Yang Wenhao approached the shadow. Though it was a ghost, its body felt strangely tangible, which surprised him. He pressed his hand to the shadow’s chest and then stepped back.

“Alright. Now, you’d better start talking.”

Yang Wenhao watched the middle-aged man, his sword at the ready.

The man glanced at the blade, then spoke respectfully. “It’s a long story.”

“Then make it short.”

“Here’s what happened…”

It turned out that Zhuo Youxuan had been killed by the man’s junior apprentice. The man himself belonged to the Ghost-Rearing Sect—a name Yang Wenhao had never heard before. As the name implied, they specialized in raising ghosts to serve them.

Zhuo Youxuan had been turned into a ghost by the junior apprentice. According to the sect’s rules, disciples were forbidden to harm ordinary people, so this act was a grave taboo. Moreover, this wasn’t the first time the junior apprentice had done such a thing—he’d previously been punished for turning an ordinary person into a ghost, and, unwilling to accept his punishment, had fled the sect. The middle-aged man had been sent to track him down.

The reason for these crimes was that the junior apprentice had been seriously injured. Ghosts are inherently yin, while humans are yang. Prolonged exposure to ghosts would tip the balance toward yin, bringing death ever closer, and the effect worsened if one’s hands were already stained. So the junior apprentice set his sights on ordinary people.

Sun Wentao just happened to be an unfortunate victim. Yet Yang Wenhao remained puzzled by the man’s story.

“But if Zhuo Youxuan was already dead, how could she have continued to entertain guests?”

The man shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Ding… Congratulations, host. Task complete: The Death of Zhuo Youxuan. Fifty points awarded.”

Yang Wenhao’s lips twitched. Earning fifty points had been easier than expected.

The man asked, “Are you a practitioner of martial arts?”

Yang Wenhao shook his head. “I’m not.”

“If you’re not a martial artist, yet possess such skill, could you be from the Yin-Yang World?” the man mused aloud, then shook his head. “No, I know the Yin-Yang World, but I’ve never heard of anyone as powerful as you.”

With such power at so young an age, there was no way he was an obscure nobody.