Chapter 40
Chapter 40
After Fang Lin’an’s frantic explanation, Daoist Chu finally understood what had happened. Although he had some trouble accepting Lu Changxue, an A-rank malicious ghost, he still did his best to appear magnanimous (if one ignored the fact that he never once loosened his death grip on his peachwood sword).
“So, what now? Are we heading down the mountain?” Zhou Benxin asked.
Fang Lin’an looked at Yun Jianyue. “Before we do, shouldn’t you explain why that Evil God kept calling you his Little Bride-and why you called him your husband?”
Yun Jianyue had never intended to keep it a secret. Since Fang Lin’an had asked, she told them about the ghost marriage she had entered into with Mo Chen in Xianyin Village.
By the time she finished, Daoist Chu’s expression was grave, while Fang Lin’an had resorted to pinching the spot beneath his nose to keep himself from passing out.
“Why didn’t you tell the Paranormal Bureau about something this important?” Fang Lin’an demanded, nearly beside himself.
Imitating Cai Zeyu’s tone, Yun Jianyue said, “We’re already too busy catching demons and evil spirits that hurt people. Who has time to hunt down an Evil God who lives in an underground palace far from civilization?”
It had to be said, the imitation was spot-on.
Fang Lin’an nearly choked on the mouthful of blood lodged in his throat.
It would have been fine if Mo Chen had stayed in his underground palace. The problem was, he had now appeared in a populated area and even strolled straight into the territory of the metaphysics community. Worse, right in front of Fang Lin’an, a member of Xuanmen, he had killed Zhou Benxin twice in a row!
“Should I report it to the Paranormal Bureau when I get back?” Yun Jianyue asked.
“Why not let this old man take a look and see whether your ghost marriage can be dissolved?” Daoist Chu offered warmly.
Yun Jianyue nodded as eagerly as a chick pecking at grain. Nothing could be better than getting rid of it.
Daoist Chu and several other Daoists crowded around Yun Jianyue’s wrist. Each opened his Heavenly Eye and tried all kinds of ritual implements, but none of them could see the Red Thread of Fate around her wrist.
After a long while, Daoist Chu said hesitantly, “You have indeed entered into a contract, but it seems only you and that Evil God can see the Red Thread of Fate.”
With an ordinary ghost marriage contract, all they needed to do was open the Heavenly Eye to see the victim’s Red Thread of Fate. They could then sever it with peachwood and black dog’s blood before performing a ritual for the victim, thus dissolving the ghost marriage.
But they couldn’t even see the Red Thread of Fate binding Yun Jianyue. How were they supposed to sever it?
“If it can’t be done, then forget it.” Yun Jianyue wasn’t going to force the issue. She had already prepared herself to remain entangled with Mo Chen.
“What can’t be done?”
A familiar male voice came from the doorway. Before Yun Jianyue could even react with excitement, Fang Lin’an had already launched himself forward like a mad dog off its leash.
Tears of joy streamed down Fang Lin’an’s face. “Junior Martial Uncle!”
Travel-worn and dusty, Si Wuming stepped neatly aside, perfectly evading Fang Lin’an’s bear hug, then walked straight toward Yun Jianyue.
Abandoned where he stood, Fang Lin’an fell apart inside. How many times had Junior Martial Uncle dodged his hugs now? Was he no longer Junior Martial Uncle’s favorite martial nephew? Had Junior Martial Uncle found himself a new puppy?
Looking after Si Wuming as he walked away, Fang Lin’an suddenly understood.
The puppy was Yun Jianyue!
“Can you see this?” Yun Jianyue held out her wrist and waved it in front of Si Wuming.
“An accessory?” Si Wuming ventured uncertainly, sounding somewhat confused.
“I knew you couldn’t… Wait. You can see it?” Yun Jianyue finally realized what he had said.
Si Wuming blinked his clear black-and-white eyes at her, looking utterly innocent. “You’ve been wearing it for ages.”
Damn it! She had always assumed Si Wuming couldn’t see the Red Thread of Fate either, but it turned out he had mistaken it for an accessory? Yun Jianyue’s mind was in chaos.
Fang Lin’an rushed over and roared at Si Wuming with flagrant disrespect, “Junior Martial Uncle, that’s the Red Thread of Fate left behind by her ghost marriage to the Evil God! Are your eyes failing you?!”
Si Wuming stared at Fang Lin’an in silence.
Once he was done shouting, Fang Lin’an shrank back. All his earlier brazenness vanished, and he spoke as meekly as a timid young bride. “Junior Martial Uncle, you know I’ve always respected you. Please take your hand off your sword, and we can talk this through.”
Without a word, Si Wuming released his grip on the hilt.
Fang Lin’an could have cried. Junior Martial Uncle’s gaze was terrifying, almost as terrifying as the Evil God’s!
“Can you sever this Red Thread of Fate?” Yun Jianyue asked.
“I can try,” Si Wuming replied, making no promises.
Si Wuming formed a hand seal. His long, fair fingers shifted through the gestures at a speed that seemed physically impossible.
“Gods of all the heavens, heed my command. Old Man Under the Moon, listen to my decree. Through three lives and three incarnations, let every bond of love be severed. Break!”
Fang Lin’an hurriedly pulled out his phone and began recording. Junior Martial Uncle usually overcame every obstacle with brute force. It was rare to see him perform a ritual, so Fang Lin’an had to record it and study the footage later!
Yet when Si Wuming finished forming the seal, the Red Thread of Fate around Yun Jianyue’s wrist remained completely motionless. It showed no sign of breaking whatsoever.
“Well? Did it work?” Unable to see the Red Thread of Fate, Fang Lin’an asked impatiently.
Yun Jianyue shook her head. “It seems even more indestructible now.”
It was difficult to say there wasn’t a trace of sarcasm in her voice.
Si Wuming’s shapely brows drew together slightly. This was clearly the first time he had encountered such a situation.
Without hesitation, he drew his Tang sword and brought it down with tremendous force.
The Tang sword could cleave through an entire building, yet it failed to leave so much as a mark on the Red Thread of Fate!
Perhaps it was only Yun Jianyue’s imagination, but she could have sworn the Red Thread of Fate was fluttering in the breeze as though mocking Si Wuming.
Si Wuming fell silent for a moment. A rare, sharp glint entered his eyes as he stared at the Red Thread of Fate.
“Why don’t we just forget it?” Yun Jianyue withdrew her wrist. By now, she had completely given up hope.
She could hardly imagine any supernatural problem in this world that could stump Si Wuming. If even he couldn’t do anything about it, then there was definitely something sinister about this Red Thread of Fate.
“Let me try again,” Si Wuming said sullenly.
He seemed to have taken the Red Thread of Fate as a personal challenge. He was determined to sever it for Yun Jianyue today, no matter what.
Holding the sword in one hand, Si Wuming drew its edge across his palm. Bright red blood instantly stained the blade.
“Holy crap, Junior Martial Uncle! You’re going to use a Blood Sacrifice?!” Fang Lin’an shrieked.
Zhou Benxin immediately asked, “What’s a Blood Sacrifice?”
“When practitioners of the metaphysical arts coat a magical artifact with their essence blood, it can amplify the artifact’s power severalfold. That’s the Blood Sacrifice method we commonly use. As far back as I can remember, Junior Martial Uncle has never used a Blood Sacrifice. He’s always relied on that one sword to annihilate every demon and ghost in his path.”
Fang Lin’an clenched his fists. “This is the first time Junior Martial Uncle has ever used a Blood Sacrifice.”
There was something else he left unsaid. If the Evil God was powerful enough to make Junior Martial Uncle get serious, then he was far stronger than Fang Lin’an had imagined.
Si Wuming raised his sword to sever the Red Thread of Fate. The instant his blade fell, a sinister wind erupted and the sky changed color.
Sand and stones flew through the small courtyard as the gale howled, as though the apocalypse had arrived.
Everyone instinctively raised their arms to shield their eyes from the windblown grit.
Only Lu Changxue, being a ghost, saw everything clearly. The Evil God stepped through a rift in the shattered fabric of space and caught Si Wuming’s blade with his bare hand.