For thirty years, he has roamed the Northeast, his divine might overwhelming all immortals under hea

Uncle Chen showed no sign of stopping, seemingly with a clear purpose.

And me.

They followed closely behind.

My eyes never left Uncle Chen.

They were afraid that if they weren't careful, they would lose track of Uncle Chen.

I don't know how much time passed, but I felt that the air around me had dropped a few degrees.

What shocked me even more was that Uncle Chen was standing at the entrance of a cave.

You know, as a native of this place, I've never heard of any caves on this western mountain.

I crouched behind a few loose rocks near the cave entrance. The rocks were covered with a layer of slippery, cold moss, like saliva left by something licking them.

It's early winter now, but the moss looks exactly the same as it did in the height of summer.

My heart was pounding wildly inside my chest.

A gust of wind swirled out from inside, not like a natural wind, but more like the cave breathing.

"Go...inside?"

My throat was parched and burning, and I kept my voice down even lower than my breathing, as if afraid of disturbing something inside the cave.

"Having followed us all this way, are you really going to turn back?"

"Besides, Thirteen, we're upright people, do you think we'd be scared by crooked ways?"

Huang Dalang's voice echoed in my mind. Although it sounded relaxed, I could tell that Huang Dalang's nerves were also taut.

"I still can't figure out how deep the guy inside is, but he's definitely not the type to sunbathe. Walk as lightly as a cat and breathe as thin as a thread. I'll try my best to hide that 'living energy' on you, but you also have to be strong and not act like a calf that's panting heavily."

I swallowed hard, the saliva sliding down my throat like sandpaper.

I took a deep breath, and the cold, foul air cut into my trachea like a knife, making my lungs feel constricted.

I groped my way into the cave entrance, stretching out my hands and feeling around like a blind man along the wet, slippery cave walls. The touch was cold and sticky, as if I were touching the cavity of some huge creature.

My feet sank unevenly, sometimes stepping on sharp pebbles, sometimes sinking into soft, wet silt with a soft "plop" sound.

I was on tenterhooks with every step, afraid that I might stumble or touch something I shouldn't have.

The darkness amplified all the senses; my ears were filled with the amplified sounds of my own heartbeat and the rushing of blood, and... the faint, rhythmic dripping of water coming from somewhere in the cave.

I walked for an unknown amount of time, time stretched out distorted and endlessly in the darkness and fear. Just when I felt I was about to be driven mad by this pure darkness, a glimmer of light appeared ahead.

The light wasn't natural light from the exit, but a faint, cold light emanating from within, a bluish-green hue, like will-o'-the-wisps flickering on a deserted grave on a summer night. It was still, yet seemed to breathe, its light and shadow subtly shifting.

As I got closer, the cave passage suddenly opened up, and a colder wind, carrying a strong smell of water and decay, rushed towards me. I quickly turned to the side and pressed myself against the cold stone wall at the corner, held my breath, and slowly poked my head out.

With just one glance, a chill shot up my spine to the top of my head, and my blood seemed to freeze.

Before me lay the heart of a vast, despair-inducing cave, like the hollowed-out entrails of a mountain god.

The cave ceiling was so high that it was impossible to see clearly. Only countless black stones hanging upside down could be vaguely seen, like the jagged teeth of a giant beast, with cold water droplets gathered at their tips. Occasionally, a "plop" sound would fall down, stirring up a long echo in the deathly silence.

The eerie blue light originated from a small pool of water, no bigger than the mouth of a well, in the center of the cave.

The pool water was so thick it didn't resemble water at all, but rather a solidified, translucent, dark blue amber. Light seemed to emanate from the depths of this "amber," not illuminating the surroundings, but instead tinging everything with a false blue-green hue. Rocks, the ground, and the air were all immersed in this ghostly, cold light, casting distorted and twisted shadows that seemed to come alive, writhing silently.

Less than ten steps from the pool, a crooked thatched hut stands out starkly against the enormous stone cave, adding to the eeriness of the place.

The thatched roof of the house had long since rotted and turned black, hanging down wetly. The walls were plastered with mud, but they were mottled and covered with dark stains that looked like water stains or something else that had dried out.

At the entrance of the house, three large water vats, waist-high, sat silently, their rough, earthenware bodies appearing a ghastly blue under the pale blue light of the water.

The heavy wooden lid was tightly sealed, and there seemed to be something on top of it, but it was not clear what it was.

What's most unsettling is that behind the torn paper window of the only small window in thatched hut, a dim, flickering firelight shines through!

Firelight!

In this deep underground cave, by this eerie pool, there are actually "people" making a fire!

The "Uncle Chen" who led me here is now standing in front of the thatched hut.

With his back to me, his figure appeared thin and stiff in the interplay of blue-green and dim yellow light, not like a living thing, but more like a paper doll temporarily erected.

At that moment, without warning, he knelt down abruptly, the dull thud of his kneecaps hitting the stone floor striking my heart.

"Thump!"

After kneeling down, he fell silent, his head bowed low, his arms hanging stiffly at his sides, becoming a lifeless sculpture, blending into the jagged rocks around him.

I clenched my back teeth tightly to keep from letting out a scream.

My palms and back were covered in cold sweat, clinging to my undershirt and feeling damp and sticky.

My mind was buzzing, half with fear, and the other half with a chilling mix of anger aroused by the bizarre sight.

If Xiulian had brought that lucky bean, she might have been lured here too!

"Thirteen."

Huang Dalang's voice was more solemn than ever before, even carrying a hint of tension that was barely perceptible.

"That water... is 'yin marrow,' which can only be condensed in the utmost yin and deathly places, where yin energy has accumulated for a hundred years. This entire pool... how much life force must have been wasted, how much grievance must have been accumulated! If a single drop touches the flesh of a living person, it will immediately fester and expose the bone; a weaker soul, if exposed to this light, would probably be disfigured! I could clearly smell the stench seeping from the cracks in the lids of those three vats, even from this distance. The stench of boiled corpse oil, the yin fragrance of soul-guiding grass, and the desperate 'resentment' and 'suffering' of a living soul being forcibly extracted, all mixed together, utterly filthy! The one lighting the lamps inside is refining 'evil energy,' using the most immoral and evil methods!"

I heard my teeth chatter involuntarily; it wasn't from the cold, but from a chill that rose from the depths of my soul.

But Huang Dalang's words were like a needle, piercing through my fear and making me more clearly aware of the true nature of the crisis before me.

"What do we do now? He doesn't seem to have noticed us."

I asked, my voice trembling.

"The enemy is in the dark while we are in the light; let's observe their movements first."

"Hide well, don't move, don't make a sound, and regulate your breathing to the slowest and softest. I'll use my spiritual sense to see if I can hear anything coming from inside. Remember, no matter what you see or hear, stay calm!"

I nodded vigorously, even though it couldn't see me.

I shrank deeper into the crevice of the stone wall; the stone was icy cold, and moisture seeped in through my clothes.

I stared wide-eyed at the thatched hut and the eerie blue pool of water, my ears perked up as if trying to catch every breath.

All that remained was the "drip...drip..." sound of water droplets falling.

The occasional "glug" of a bubble rising from the azure water and slowly bursting is monotonous and hollow, echoing in this vast space and tormenting one's nerves.

Time passed second by second, each second feeling like an eternity.

The firelight behind the paper windows of the thatched hut flickered at times and remained steady at others, as if it were breathing with life.

I don't know how much time passed, maybe only a few minutes, but it felt like I had stayed up half the night.

Finally, the crooked, dilapidated wooden door, which looked like it might fall apart at any moment, creaked open with a sickening sound.

A withered hand, like a thousand-year-old vine, with a dark, bluish-black skin like the wax from a tomb, stretched out first, its five fingers curled, its nails long, sharp, and dirty, resting on the door frame.

Then, a hunched figure, almost folded in half, slowly and gradually emerged, exposed to the mixed light.

That was an old man.

He was wearing a tattered jacket whose original color was no longer discernible, patched upon patched, and covered with all sorts of questionable stains.

His hair was sparse and gray, like withered grass in late autumn, haphazardly draped over his thin shoulders.

His face...

I can't describe that face.

The skin clung tightly to the bone, the wrinkles so deep they looked as if they had been carved by a knife and axe, crisscrossing and making the whole face resemble a shriveled walnut that had been clenched tightly and could no longer be stretched out.

What's most chilling is his eyes.

Deeply sunken in his dark circles, his pupils seemed larger than normal, yet they were devoid of any spirit, except for two pinpoint-like, eerie green lights, like the coldest and most poisonous will-o'-the-wisps in a desolate tomb at night. Wherever his gaze swept, even the air seemed to freeze.

He came out and ignored the silent "Uncle Chen" kneeling at the door, as if he were just an eyesore.

He walked with a hunched back and unsteady steps, but with a clear goal in mind, heading straight for the three large water vats.

He stopped in front of the middle jar, stretched out his claw-like hands, and laboriously lifted the heavy wooden lid.

"Thump."

The moment the lid was slightly ajar, an even stronger and more complex odor burst forth! A strong, cloyingly sweet and nauseating fragrance rushed into the nostrils first, followed by the rancid smell of rotting oil that was masked by the fragrance, and an indescribable, strange smell that seemed to be a mixture of countless bitter herbs boiled together and then mixed with rust and blood.

The smell was so thick it was almost tangible, making my vision blur and my stomach churn. I bit my lip hard, and only when I tasted the salty, fishy smell on my tongue could I barely suppress the urge to vomit.

The old man rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a small, dark gourd. He uncorked it and poured some powdery substance into the jar; the color was indistinguishable in the darkness.

Then, he picked up a worn-out wooden ladle leaning against the edge of the vat, walked shakily to the edge of the deep blue "yin marrow" pool, bent down, and scooped up half a ladle of the blue, shimmering "water".

He carefully held the ladle of "water" as if it were a sacred object, then walked back to the vat and slowly poured the dark blue liquid from the ladle into the vat.

"Sizzle..."

A very faint but chilling sound came from inside the vat, like cold water dripping into boiling oil, or like something being corroded or activated.

A fainter, yet more pungent, blue smoke drifted from the mouth of the jar, mingling with the sweet, rotten smell in the air.

After doing all this, the old man put the lid on the vat and even pressed it down with his hand to make sure it was tight.

Then, he slowly turned around, and his ghostly eyes finally landed on "Uncle Chen" kneeling at the door.

He walked up to Uncle Chen and stood there.

Extending his right hand, that bluish-black, withered hand with sharp nails, he firmly pressed it onto Uncle Chen's Baihui acupoint on the top of his head.

His lips moved, emitting a very low, hoarse sound, like a broken bellows struggling to breathe. The syllables were strange and difficult to pronounce, not human speech at all, but more like an ancient incantation in some evil ritual, or the rubbing whispers of underground insects.

As this inhuman chanting began, a strange change suddenly occurred!

The kneeling "Uncle Chen" began to tremble slightly uncontrollably, the amplitude was very small, but it had a mechanical and unnatural frequency.

Even more terrifying, wisps of black, thread-like energy, thicker than the night and thinner than smoke, seemed to be alive as they were forcibly drawn from Chen Bo's head, nose, and even the pores of his entire body, drifting gently towards the palm of the old man's hand that was pressing on Chen Bo's head.

The moment the black energy touched the old man's palm, it was absorbed instantly, like water droplets seeping into a sponge.

Meanwhile, "Uncle Chen's" body, like a punctured air sac, visibly shrank and withered, and his already grayish skin became even darker, tightly wrapping around his bones, truly becoming a skeleton draped in human skin.

"He's using 'spirit extraction'!"

Huang Dalang's voice echoed in my mind, filled with suppressed anger.

"That old monster! Uncle Chen has long been turned into a 'corpse puppet,' with only a little imprisoned remnant soul and condensed earth yin death energy remaining in his body."

He's currently extracting this last bit of energy to feed that shady thing in the tank! This 'corpse puppet' is out there looking for suitable 'materials'.

For example, a girl like Xiulian with a special birth chart.

Then, by sending out this evil medium, the "lucky bean," it unknowingly absorbs the yang energy of the living and marks their souls, ultimately leading them here to be filled into that jar!

I felt a chill run through my body, yet a burning rage raged in my chest, stinging my eyes.

Targeting...

The old man seemed to have had enough, letting out a satisfied sigh, like that of a night owl, and released his grip.

Uncle Chen immediately stopped trembling and returned to his previous absolutely still kneeling posture, only becoming more and more like an empty shell.

The old man used his ghostly eyes to scan the cave with lingering interest, his gaze seemingly lingering slightly in the direction of the shadows where I was hiding.

My heart suddenly stopped beating, I held my breath completely, and even my blood seemed to freeze.

How could he see me? Didn't Huang Dalang cover for me?

Fortunately, his gaze merely swept across the room without focusing. He was probably just being habitually vigilant and didn't actually notice anything unusual.

He turned around, his hunched back facing me, and in his hoarse, broken voice, he muttered to himself. The sound echoed slightly in the empty cave, each word clear as a venomous snake's hiss, burrowing into my ears.

"...Just one more...just one more...a pure yin girl born in a yin year, yin month, yin day, and hai hour...her primordial yin has not been depleted, her soul is pure and clear...it'll be quick...once this last 'catalyst' arrives, the 'treasure' in the jar will be fully formed...then...hehe...hehehe..."