Chapter 4

The night was silent, the lamplight faint, and Ning Changjiu gazed at her with a blank expression, his already pale eyes almost transparent.

It was a moment of confusion.

He quickly returned to calmness, just like the firework that flickered and vanished in an instant between the sleeves of his green robe.

"Rest well, and don't think too much," he said. "I will always be your senior brother."

Ning Xiaoling looked at him fearfully.

Ning Changjiu looked at her face, and the young girl instinctively shrank back, her body bumping into the wall, causing her to shudder.

Amidst the chaotic thoughts, Ning Changjiu turned and left, the lamplight extinguishing with him. Ning Xiaoling cowered in the corner, staring in terror at the pitch-black darkness ahead, as if all her courage had been used up. She collapsed onto the bed, her hands covering her face, and tears overflowed between her pale, dry fingers.

Plop.

Ning Changjiu closed the door.

Outside, the autumn rain continued, and Ning Changjiu moved a chair to sit by the door. The sixteen-year-old boy sat there, displaying a mature and composed demeanor.

"Who am I, exactly?" Ning Changjiu repeated the question.

He had been pondering this question for the entire afternoon, the rain varying in intensity, but it never gave him an answer.

Five days ago, on that terrifying night, Ning Qinshui struck the top of his head, opening the Heavenly Gate, and countless evil spirits poured in. Just as his soul was about to be devoured, something deep within his body seemed to awaken.

It was a foreign consciousness, seemingly from a bleak and desolate "prison."

Then, the myriad ghosts were repelled, and he awoke from his coma, feeling the world clear. Countless unfathomable Daoist techniques appeared in his memory as if they were innate.

He lightly pointed a finger, watching the zombie disintegrate, and two completely different sets of memories collided in his mind.

In the other set of memories, his original name was Zhang Jiu. After joining the sect with his second senior brother, the master, who disliked his surname, changed it to Changjiu, meaning "long-lasting." He chose the surname "Ning" himself because the character "Ning" resembled a sword.

Twenty-four years of Daoist cultivation flashed through his mind, fleeting and ephemeral.

The last memory brought him back to the question Ning Xiaoling asked him two days ago.

"What did you remember?"

"I remembered that the master killed me."

This brief dialogue marked the end of his previous life and the beginning of this one.

So, which Ning Changjiu was he?

"Senior Sister, you once said that beyond the Hidden Kingdom, the dead cannot be revived." Ning Changjiu asked himself softly, "Then what am I?"

...

...

Deep within the imperial city, a series of pavilions stood along a long staircase. The place that should have been a grand hall was now nothing but charred ruins.

The road to this wasteland was sealed off, and guards with lanterns patrolled it even at night.

"Who's there?"

One of the guards suddenly shouted.

The weak lamplight illuminated the rain, and in the night rain, a vague figure holding an umbrella could be seen.

It was an old red umbrella, with fine, neat ribs supporting a dark red canopy. Raindrops fell, leaped, and shattered, turning into a mist.

The night was as still as water.

The umbrella slowly approached, the tip of the shoe under the hem of the dress stepping over the water flowing down the stone steps, making a light, crisp sound.

The guard's lantern suddenly swayed, and he looked at the girl holding the umbrella, his hand already on the hilt of his sword.

The girl stopped, unfastened a jade token from her waist, and calmly handed it over.

The guard uncertainly took the token, examining it carefully, while another guard, after a quick glance, hurriedly knelt in the rain, bowing respectfully and humbly, "Welcome... welcome, Your Highness, back to the palace!"

The guard holding the token instantly understood, and the immense fear forced him to kneel as well, "Your Highness, you... have returned."

The girl softly nodded, took back the token, and stepped over the cracked stone steps, walking towards the palace that had been reduced to ruins.

Before the ruins, the umbrella tilted slightly, and a bolt of lightning tore through the sky, the fleeting light revealing her face.

The girl had delicate features, her black hair damp, brushing against her snow-white cheeks, and her pitch-black eyes reflecting the lightning.

After a while, the sound of autumn thunder rolled through her ears.

The girl suddenly placed the umbrella beside her, and her slender body knelt before the ruins.

"Daughter has wronged Mother, student has wronged teacher, subject has wronged the people."

The autumn rain soaked her long hair and drenched her dress. The girl's voice was light, like the fine rain that drifted with the wind:

"Xiang'er... why did I live in vain?"

In the night, the girl gently bowed.

...

In the early morning, the autumn rain had paused, the clouds had not dispersed, and the sky remained dim.

Ning Xiaoling had taken her medicine and eaten porridge. She was wearing a white single-layered robe, covered by a light-colored jacket, sitting on the bed, meditating quietly, a rare moment of calm.

Ning Changjiu was tidying up the stove, porcelain bowls, and sweeping away the medicinal residue, leaving the floor spotless and the table neatly arranged. He did all this with great familiarity.

Ning Xiaoling secretly observed him with narrowed eyes but did not speak.

Ning Changjiu pretended not to notice her gaze.

Both seemed to have forgotten their conversation from the night before, acting as if nothing had happened, each doing their own thing.

"Someone came yesterday to inform us that the master's body has been examined. To prevent it from turning into a zombie, it will be burned at the base of the Nine Spirits Platform today." Ning Changjiu broke the silence first. "Do you want to go see?"

Ning Xiaoling paused, then said softly, "That old... master, he almost killed us. What's there to see?"

Ning Changjiu asked, "Don't you want to know who the killer is?"

Ning Xiaoling glanced at him, feeling a chill in her heart, suppressing the thought hidden deep within her, and said without changing her expression, "I heard there's a big ghost called Quegui in the imperial city, who has already killed many people. Those people died in very gruesome ways."

Ning Changjiu asked, "What do you think of the master's Daoist skills?"

Ning Xiaoling thought for a moment and said, "Although I hate him, his Daoist skills are very profound. He went to many wealthy families to exorcise evil spirits and catch ghosts, and he never failed. This time... dying so inexplicably is strange."

Ning Changjiu nodded. From the perspective of the people in the mortal world, Ning Qinshui was indeed a high-level practitioner.

Ning Xiaoling sighed, "Let's just leave it at that. In the future, we should focus on living our own lives... right, Senior Brother?"

Ning Changjiu ignored her somewhat evasive gaze and said, "When the physical body perishes, the spiritual essence remains. It disperses into the universe and condenses into a soul. The more souls there are in the world, the less spiritual essence there is in the universe. Many Daoists believe this is not in accordance with the rules."

Ning Xiaoling listened, somewhat confused, "What does this have to do with us? Are you going to follow these rules?"

Ning Changjiu shook his head, "I need to stay here to find something, so I need a reason to do so."

Ning Xiaoling was even more puzzled.

As they were talking, the door was knocked three times, and a middle-aged man in official attire entered.

It was Song Ce.

He looked at the two of them and said, "Would you like to go pay your respects to your master?"

Ning Changjiu nodded, grabbed Ning Xiaoling's wrist, and pulled her off the bed. Ning Xiaoling looked at her senior brother fearfully, silently putting on her shoes and socks without a word.

Song Ce said, "Later, someone will give you both some money. Although it can't make up for the loss of your master, it should be enough for you to learn a trade and live well."

Song Ce thought that after that night, they probably wouldn't have the heart to continue being Daoists.

Ning Xiaoling bowed and said, "Xiaoling thanks Lord Song."

Ning Changjiu looked at him, "Why is Lord Song so haggard?"

Song Ce said, "The imperial city is in a state of panic. The palace has sent people to seek out hermits and high-level practitioners, but there has been no result after half a month..."

Ning Changjiu shook his head, interrupting, "It's because last night was not peaceful, and someone else died in the palace."

Song Ce looked at him in surprise, his expression uncertain.

Ning Changjiu looked at his face and said seriously, "Since there is no one to use, why not let me try?"

Song Ce thought he was joking and said angrily, "Your master couldn't do it, and you dare to take such a risk after learning only a fraction of the skills?"

Ning Changjiu said, "I have a basic understanding."

Song Ce couldn't help but laugh, "Later, follow me to see your master's remains. After that, I doubt you will still speak such reckless words."

Ning Changjiu said, "How will you know if you don't try?"

Song Ce became impatient, "That night, you entered the hall with your master. What happened inside, have you already forgotten? Young man, after surviving such a great disaster, you should value your life, do you understand?"

"We are Daoists, and we should take on the responsibility of slaying demons and eliminating evil." Ning Changjiu said calmly, "Now that the master is dead, I am still alive."