My Demon Husband Is a Snake Chapter 1119: Corpse Sturgeon
Previously on My Demon Husband Is a Snake...
"Circle of Heaven and Earth, Nine Sections of the Decree, one talisman released, ten thousand ghosts to hide away, urgently like a decree." Instead of risking damage to the raft with a fire charm, I opted for the Three Purities Edict to expel evil.
The talisman, infused with potent Spiritual Power, was flung out, adhering to the back of a pale human hand and igniting spontaneously.
The hand, along with the arm and the corpse it belonged to, dissolved into a putrid sludge that sank beneath the waves.
However, this action seemed to agitate the other corpses lurking below, making them even more frenzied.
They swarmed towards the raft, forcing me to reach into my bag for more talisman paper.
Just as I was about to retrieve it, Qing Li intervened, saying, "Don't exhaust yourself. Do you have any idea how many Yin Corpses inhabit this river?"
"There can't be too many, can there?" My legs trembled uncontrollably, resembling jelly; the current number was already a horrifying spectacle.
If more were to appear, wouldn't I be scared half to death?
While I've never been afraid of corpses, nor have I ever feared zombie demons, the sight of so many pallid Yin Corpses emerging from the water was undeniably chilling.
Qing Li smirked, unleashing an array of Spider Silk threads. "Far more than you can fathom. Don't provoke them; pacify them gently."
The Gossamer threads pierced the foreheads of the Yin Corpses, quelching their aggression.
They ceased their attempts to damage the bamboo raft and instead began propelling it forward.
"Grandmother, you're incredible," I exclaimed, filled with awe.
Qing Li raised an eyebrow, inquiring, "Care to learn?"
"Would that be possible?" I was surprised that Qing Li would consider teaching me the Forbidden Woman Witchcraft.
Before Qing Li could respond, the melodious strumming of a zither echoed through the cave, and her demeanor immediately grew tense. "Su Wan, have you angered someone?"
"Who could I have possibly offended?" It wasn't that I couldn't recall any enemies; rather, upon reflection, the sheer number of people I had displeased was staggering.
Qing Li gestured towards the cave ceiling, where a particularly lecherous human face materialized. "A Soft-shelled Turtle Spirit. He possesses the ability of musical manipulation."
"Oh no, isn't that Piao Changji? Why is he playing music now?" I listened intently but couldn't discern anything unusual about the melody.
Yet, a sinking feeling told me that after his clone was dispatched by Yu Longting and myself, he had likely been pursuing us relentlessly.
Otherwise, his presence in this cave would be inexplicable.
Qing Li let out a sudden laugh. "Piao Changji? What a ludicrous name! Is that a moniker you and Yu Longting bestowed upon him?"
"No, that's his actual name. But Grandmother, look! Is that a sturgeon? Damn it all." Of all the curses I had uttered in my life, they could be counted on a single hand, yet in this moment of dire straits, profanity became my only recourse.
A colossal sturgeon, dwarfing a whale, breached the water's surface. Its flesh was marred by festering wounds, reminiscent of the diseased fish observed in King Yu's Tomb.
It gaped open its maw, exhaling a putrid stench that was utterly repulsive.
Even more alarmingly, its inhalation of water seemed powerful enough to drain the entire river.
The Yin Corpses in the water were obliterated in an instant, forming a vortex of churning water.
"I'll attempt to vanquish it with heavenly fire," I declared, recognizing the critical juncture and resolutely preparing talismans and hand seals.
A horrifying spectacle ensued.
The talisman paper, defying gravity, plummeted into the churning river below.
Qing Li's brow furrowed. "Its Corpse Qi is overpowering, suppressing our Spiritual Power. This is a ten-thousand-year-old Corpse Sturgeon. It merely guarded this waterway initially, but this scoundrel spirit is manipulating it."
"Then what are we to do? With waves this colossal, are we destined to be tossed into the water along with the raft?" I leaned over the railing as the raft buckled, my voice laced with despair.
My gaze then fell upon the man steering the raft, his composure unnervingly steady amidst the chaos. A disquieting thought surfaced in my mind. "Grandmother, the boatman's behavior is peculiar. Do you suspect he's colluding with the Soft-shelled Turtle Spirit? Given the immense waves and the appearance of a Corpse Sturgeon, his placidity is quite unnatural."