Cultivating for a hundred lifetimes to ascension Chapter 1588 - 856: The Unpredictability of Human Nature (Part 2)

After a brief moment, he abruptly inquired, "What are you looking at? There’s no one in the yard."

Upon hearing his words, Zhao Jinhua let out a relieved breath and turned around to clarify, "We didn’t come at the right time. As night falls, those Wuchang Ghosts are about to appear."

Zhao Sheng understood that he feared those Wuchang Ghosts.

Having examined numerous records in the Secret Pavilion, Zhao Sheng knew the hidden truths of Wuchang City all too well.

Situated beside the river and hugging the mountains, this city’s inhabitants were all towering and burly. By day, they behaved like ordinary folks, but when night came, they morphed into Wuchang Ghosts, roaming the streets and preying on any outsiders they spotted.

Zhao Sheng and the Immortal Ruins Guests who had slipped into Wuchang City naturally turned into prime targets for these Wuchang Ghosts.

Despite the name Wuchang Ghosts, they were truly a kind of Living Dead much like zombies. They not only had the unyielding power of a Vajra Body but also infected anyone they bit, swiftly turning victims into their kind.

Of course,

if you refrained from going out at night and stayed concealed properly, the Wuchang Ghosts wouldn’t locate you.

In essence, within Wuchang City, so long as you didn’t seek out death, it wouldn’t claim you!

Zhao Jinhua meticulously described the many taboos and peculiarities of Wuchang City to Zhao Sheng.

Though he was already aware of everything, Zhao Sheng listened with utmost seriousness.

Soon enough, night descended, shrouding the area in total darkness so profound that one couldn’t even see their own fingers.

Not long after, rustling sounds echoed outside the courtyard, chilling winds howled, and colossal silhouettes taller than half the courtyard wall glided past the entrance.

Now and then, heavy thumps resounded from the courtyard walls, made by Wuchang Ghosts clumsily colliding into them.

Zhao Sheng and Zhao Jinhua hid inside a deliberately excavated underground cellar, silently enduring until dawn broke.

Before they knew it, the night slipped away, gloom dissipated, and daylight emerged precisely as anticipated.

With skies clearing up, cooking smoke rose once more across Wuchang City, and people started filling the streets gradually.

As shops by the roadside flung open their doors one by one, Zhao Sheng and Zhao Jinhua exited the modest courtyard and ventured onto the north-south street.

The avenue teemed with crowds, all wearing amiable faces with elongated dangling earlobes, standing exceptionally tall and sturdy. Even the women exceeded typical heights.

Blending amid the masses, Zhao Sheng and Zhao Jinhua appeared as two utterly distinct figures.

The north-south street wasn’t lengthy. Traversing over three hundred steps brought them to the doorway of a notably tranquil inn.

A prominent sign at the inn’s center displayed the bold characters "Yuelai Inn," accompanied by couplets adorning both door pillars: "Guests come from all directions, warmly welcoming guests from the Four Seas."

"This is the place." Zhao Jinhua murmured softly, then guided Zhao Sheng into the inn.

No sooner had they stepped in than a towering, hefty servant clad in red, with a simpleton’s expression, beamed at them and asked, "Are you two here for a meal or a stay?"

Zhao Jinhua replied, "We are here to see an old acquaintance in the Hidden Courtyard, who resides in Room A.

The red-clad servant’s smile dimmed a touch as he nodded faintly, "I see. Guests from ’out of town,’ please follow me."

"Thank you for guiding us," Zhao Jinhua said quietly, casting a discreet glance at Zhao Sheng.

The red-clad servant escorted them to a backyard wall, pressed a concealed spot, and the whole wall rapidly descended into the ground.

A pathway of green stones revealed itself ahead, lined with successive courtyards boasting high, robust walls that emanated an aura of ancient mystery.

The trio paused before the second courtyard, where the red-clad servant unlatched the gate and beckoned them inside.

Zhao Jinhua gave a nod before entering the courtyard, Zhao Sheng trailing in silence behind him.

The courtyard stretched deep, dominated by a Bodhi Tree that arched like an umbrella, releasing a soothing fragrance.

Right then, a striking young master featuring a vertical mark on his forehead stood waiting beneath the tree.

Sharing a close bond with this individual, Zhao Jinhua swapped a few courteous words before swiftly presenting him: "This is our clan’s Daoist Zhao Wuming."

Next, he turned to Zhao Sheng, "This is the Taoist friend Tong from the Taiching Spirit Realm,"

Zhao Sheng clasped his hands in salute and declared, "Taoist Tong, I am Zhao Wuming, nice to meet you."

"I am Tong Xin. You truly plan to return to the Taiching Spirit Realm with me?"

Tong Xin examined Zhao Sheng intently at that point, lingering in partial disbelief.

"We’ll know once we try," Zhao Sheng answered with composure.

"Good, let’s leave immediately," Tong Xin declared, his eyes narrowing just a bit.

Witnessing this, Zhao Jinhua’s countenance turned grave; he promptly drew a black Sumeru Ring from within his robes and offered it to Tong Xin.

That Sumeru Ring held the "compensation" they had settled on earlier, now delivered to Tong Xin to demonstrate their sincerity.

Tong Xin seized the Sumeru Ring, a subtle smile creeping back onto his face.

In short order, Tong Xin positioned himself under the Bodhi Tree, nodded first to Zhao Sheng and Zhao Jinhua, then vanished entirely.

Practically simultaneously, Zhao Sheng delicately brushed the invisible Silk Strings tied to the Taiching Spirit Realm, pursued his intuition, and blinked out of existence.

...

This was a vast valley hemmed in by mountains, its floor stark and glossy as a mirror, adorned with innumerable elaborate patterns.

Encircling the valley loomed enormous thirty-three-zhang-tall thick black iron pillars, each bearing a white-robed cultivator with a vertical mark upon the forehead.

A dense, suffocating atmosphere pervaded the valley, every white-robed cultivator standing grim and hushed, as though expecting some occurrence.

At that instant, right in the valley floor’s midst, Tong Xin materialized from void upon descending to the Lower Realm.

The moment Tong Xin emerged, exhilaration seized the cultivators; they invoked their Mysterious Skills, surging Mana wildly into the Array Pillar below their feet.