Passerby: Secret Image of Ancient Scrolls

The blood-stained claws were only two meters away from Shen Xun's chest. The madman's roar was drawn out by the wind and snow, but in Shen Xun's perception, everything slowed down.

It was as if I had fallen into solidified amber, and time around me was stretched out infinitely.

The howling wind and snow froze into tiny ice crystals suspended in the air, and every roar turned into a slow, low-frequency sound wave. All the movements of everyone in his field of vision were slowed down dozens of times.

This was not a dazed or absent-minded state, but rather the extreme state in which his five senses were amplified infinitely when he was immersed in the origin of reincarnation.

He needed to gather enough power to suppress the entire scene, and he also saw everyone's desperate protection, word by word, frame by frame.

He had lived for hundreds of years, guarded the path of reincarnation for hundreds of years, and witnessed too many life-and-death battles and the turning of hearts. He had long been accustomed to bearing all the storms alone, but he never thought that there would be such a group of people who would use their flesh and blood to build an unbreakable defense for him.

He clearly saw two thick, dark shadow whips suddenly explode from his side, their bodies surging with fine, golden patterns linked by a blood pact.

Bai Wuchang's movements were already faster than normal, but in his perception, every detail of the shadow whip wrapping around the assassin's waist was clearly visible: the shadow energy tore apart the assassin's protective aura, and when the two were violently pulled back, the crazy expressions on their faces were still frozen. The moment their lumbar vertebrae were shattered, the broken lines of their bones were clearly visible in his vision.

His gaze passed over the wind and snow in front of him and landed on Ye Zhuo at the forefront of the defensive line.

She was rushing back like a madwoman, her boots pounding in the snow, the spray lingering in the air for a long time.

Blood was gushing out of the gaping wound on his hand, dripping down the wooden handle of the shovel. The trajectory of each drop of blood as it rolled down was stretched into a thin red line in his field of vision.

Her lips were pressed into a pale line, and the anxiety and ferocity in her eyes were magnified infinitely in slow motion. Even from several meters away, he could see the faint golden light reflected in the depths of her eyes, reflecting the faint golden light emanating from his own body.

She rushed too fast, her foot slipped on the ice, and she swiftly and decisively slapped an assassin who had bypassed the defenses to the ground.

As Shen Xun watched all this, a faint pang of sorrow welled up in his heart, yet it was also enveloped in a burning warmth.

This girl, who had traveled alongside him all the way from Hangzhou, always put her companion's safety first. Even when her hand was lacerated, her arm was weak, or she herself was on the verge of death, her first concern was always whether he would get hurt.

Over the centuries, he had witnessed countless people fleeing and cowardly in the face of evil, but in this young girl, he saw the most stubborn and purest courage.

He saw Old Gu, who was desperately guarding the gap in the front of the car.

Old Gu leaned against the cold body of the 2045, swinging his entrenching tool horizontally, the muscles in his arms taut, the veins bulging high beneath his frozen purple skin.

The blisters on his palms had long since frozen to the shovel handle, but he seemed oblivious to them, putting all his strength into each swing.

The moment the entrenching tool struck the assassin's knee, the deformity of the broken bone was clearly visible in slow motion.

He had several scratches on his cheeks, and his face was covered in blood, but he didn't even blink.

Shen Xun's gaze fell on Old Gu's tense back, and a deep feeling welled up in his heart.

This old man guarded her for thirty years, atoning for his sins for thirty years, turning his debt to Xiulian into care for them.

He should have been living a peaceful life by the Mohe River, but time and time again he followed them into life-or-death situations. Even though his body was no longer as strong as that of a young man, and even though every swing of the shovel exhausted him, he never uttered a word of retreat.

He saw Aoluya and Bailu guarding his flank.

The girl's cheeks were red from the cold, and her wrists, which were holding the copper bell, trembled uncontrollably. Every time she rang the bell, her whole body trembled.

The clear, melodious ringing of the bell transformed into visible ripples. Wherever it swept, the multicolored aura within the assassin's body would momentarily falter. That half-second delay was the time she could buy for Shen Xun.

Her deer bone knife had already chipped from its blade, and her slashing movements had slowed down. The white mist from her breath lingered in the air for a long time, but her footsteps remained firmly planted on the gap in the flank. Even when she was struggling to keep up with the assassin's charge, she never moved an inch.

The white deer's fur was stained with half-frozen blood, and its forehead, neck, and limbs were covered with scratches of varying depths.

As it rammed into an assassin, the muscles in its neck tensed violently, and drops of blood flew from the wound inflicted by its fingernails, dangling in the snow like tiny fragments of red agate.

It was tightly entangled by two assassins, its eyes always fixed on Shen Xun's direction, and it would rush back at the slightest movement.

Looking at the man and the deer, Shen Xun felt a silent surge of emotion.

At the tender age of twenty, a time when they should be most innocent and carefree, they followed them to confront the most ferocious evil spirits because of a promise to protect them. Even when they were covered in wounds and faced life and death, they never let go of the copper bell in their hands.

And then there's that white deer from the Greater Khingan Mountains, who should have been free in the forests, yet it accompanied them through countless perilous journeys, shielding them from all danger with its body. This is the purest inheritance and perseverance on this black soil, and it resonates with the cycle of reincarnation he has guarded for hundreds of years.

He saw Lin Jian huddled inside the car.

A young face pressed against the cold car window, her hands, frozen purple, gripped the Polaroid camera tightly. In slow motion, the action of pressing the shutter seemed to be paused. Her eyes were filled with anxiety that was about to overflow, but there was not a trace of hesitation or evasion. Even if she could only do this insignificant thing, she did it with all her might.

Shen Xun's gaze lingered on her for a moment. This young girl, who had just been drawn into this life-or-death crisis, was now determined to buy them a moment's respite in her own way, from the panic and helplessness she felt when she first encountered the ghosts in the old alleys of Hangzhou to this earth-shattering crisis.

The camera in her hand is a keepsake left by her grandfather, and also a lamp that pierces through evil spirits. The young man who originally only wanted to follow her to protect the souls of the dead has also transformed from a passerby who was passively drawn into the situation into a guardian who walks alongside her.

He could see more clearly the chaotic shadows surrounding him.

The shadow form of Bai Wuchang has become much thinner. Although it has become semi-transparent, every time the shadow whip is swung, it still uses all the remaining power.

Wherever her shadow energy swept, the murderous aura clinging to the assassin was instantly torn apart. Her shadow whip weaved around him, protecting every opening that was breached. The weariness and worry emanating from Shen Xun's soul on the other side of the blood pact clearly reached her senses, yet she did not stop for a moment, guarding the absolute safety zone around him.

Shen Xun was fighting, and she was watching him.

Although the shadow body has no eyes.

But he knew.

Xie Bi'an.

This shadow form, born from the realm of chaos, accompanied him year after year. No matter what he faced, she was always the first to stand in front of him.

Throughout his centuries-long, lonely journey, she was the only one who remained by his side. She was the bond bound by blood, and one of the few sources of warmth in his cold years.

Everyone was doing their utmost, using their own flesh and blood to build a defensive line for him, buying him even a second more time to cast his spell.

Shen Xun closed his eyes and engraved every single scene, frame by frame, into the depths of his soul.

In this stagnant moment, he saw himself clearly for the first time.

He saw that figure standing straight in the wind and snow, with splattered bloodstains on his sweater, and golden-red blood dripping down his jawline from his mouth and nose.

The intertwined gold and red hues are clear evidence that the source has been continuously depleted, a price that the guardians of reincarnation cannot escape.

His face was as pale as paper, but his hand holding the peach wood cane remained steady without the slightest tremor.

For hundreds of years, he has always stood in front of everyone, blocking all evil and storms, guarding the path of reincarnation, guarding the warmth of human life, and has long been accustomed to bearing everything alone.

He thought he had long been used to loneliness, but at this moment, he was struck by the fervent protection of the group of people behind him, and his heart trembled.

It turns out that after guarding the human world for hundreds of years, someone finally risked their life to protect him.

The tip of his tongue tasted the faint fishy flavor of the spiritual blood, and the depletion from the previous two attempts to activate the spiritual blood was still churning in his meridians.

The nourishing power of hawthorn preserves is barely enough to stabilize the source of the disease, which is on the verge of backlash.

But he had no way out, and he would never back down.

He must win.

Not only must we safeguard the peace of this land, but we must also protect those who risked their lives to protect him, and we must never let anything happen to them.

His hand holding the peach wood staff was as steady as a rock, the snake head at the top of the staff pressed firmly against the hourglass mark on his left chest, the cool metallic touch transmitted through his skin, echoing the boiling power of reincarnation in his blood.

The incantation, etched into his very bones and blood for centuries to protect the cycle of reincarnation, flowed slowly between his lips. With each syllable, the golden light around him intensified, and the hourglass mark on his left chest spun faster.

The slow-motion scenes around him continued. He watched Ye Zhuo use his body to knock aside an assassin who had slipped through the defenses, watched Old Gu being surrounded by three assassins but still refusing to retreat, watched Ao Luya stagger as her spiritual energy was exhausted but still tightly gripped the copper bell, watched Bai Wuchang's shadow form fade a bit more but still flicked out his shadow whip to stop an assassin who was rushing towards his face.

The last syllable of the incantation dissipated in the wind and snow, and Shen Xun suddenly opened his eyes.

Those eyes, now completely transformed into gilded gold, held no emotion whatsoever, only the golden power of reincarnation.

He tightened his grip on the peach wood staff, and the moment the staff collided with the Samsara Mark, a devastating golden light suddenly exploded!

"boom--"

The blinding golden light, like the sun falling to earth, instantly swept across the entire snowy cliff.

Golden waves of light surged outwards from Shen Xun like a tsunami, instantly crushing the suspended ice crystals in their path. The inky black aura hissed and melted away at a visible speed.

Ye Zhuo, Lao Gu, and the others only felt a bright white light before their eyes and subconsciously closed their eyes tightly, but they did not feel any heat or discomfort.

When the golden light swept across their bodies, it brought only a faint warmth, even easing the sharp pain from their wounds.

The black shadow that Bai Wuchang had transformed into instantly converged to Shen Xun's side through the blood pact as the golden light swept over. It was gently enveloped by the golden light and suffered no damage, but its form was completely engulfed by the dazzling light.

But just as the golden light was about to devour all the malevolent energy in the room, a sudden change occurred.

The multicolored halos within those assassins suddenly surged under the extreme pressure of the golden light.

The eerie aura that was originally scattered within each puppet was forcibly linked together at this moment, transforming into a thick, ink-like barrier of malevolent energy that firmly resisted the surging golden light waves. The golden light crashed into the barrier and shattered into countless specks of light.

Shen Xun's blood was still flowing, but the barrier remained unmoved.