Daoist Master, I'm really not an evil cultivator.

In the City of the Unjustly Dead, Xu Changqing looked up at the night sky, his brows furrowed: "Hmm? They're not coming? Or has something else happened?"

The moon is still the same big moon, seemingly existing since time immemorial, witnessing all the vicissitudes of human life.

The Purple Star Chart in his pupils slowly rotated, and he muttered to himself, "I don't know if I'm just imagining things, but I feel like everything is going too smoothly. Something's definitely fishy here, this is going so smoothly it's like a dream."

Within the city, Song Qingchuan and the figure of Huanxi Corpse had long since vanished. The entire City of the Wrongfully Dead was eerily quiet, clean and tidy, as if nothing had happened.

Only one Taiyuan Demon Dragon roamed freely in the city, sometimes burrowing underground, sometimes soaring into the air, stirring up the yin energy, like a dragon playing in the water, never tiring of it.

Xu Changqing said with regret and heartache, "I even prepared other methods in advance, but it's like cutting off my own flesh to feed the eagle, what a waste."

He then shook his head, thinking to himself.

"Forget it, I'd better not think about it too much. It's better to break through as soon as possible than to prolong the night. After all, the third realm is worth more than the second realm. A man can't get rich without windfall gains, and a horse can't get fat without night grazing."

Taking a deep breath and looking around, Xu Changqing sat cross-legged in the center of the square.

"Phew~"

The exhalation was like a surging river, and a strong wind suddenly rose in the city, making the bricks and tiles rattle. The eerie will-o'-the-wisps flickered, like candlelight illuminating ghostly shadows.

"Heave-ho!"

Inhale, as if swallowing a whale, and the primordial energy of the entire ghost land transforms into a swirling vortex, continuously surging towards the City of the Wrongfully Dead, like hundreds of rivers flowing into the sea, unstoppable.

Blood-red moonlight hung down over the gauze curtain, and amidst the endless, surging swamp, the City of the Wrongfully Dead floated like a small boat, drifting ethereally between heaven and earth.

The Taoist priest with a face as white as jade sat quietly in the square, facing the blood moon, breathing in and out primordial energy that gushed into his throat. From a distance, he looked like an old ghost worshipping the moon.

In Feng Shui, this is called "cultivating Yang in Yin land," which means using the Yin of a ghostly place to nourish the Yang of the human body, like a lotus emerging from the mud, going against the current.

Xu Changqing mentally reviewed the cultivation system: "The three realms are divided into three elements: essence, qi, and spirit. These three elements are not ranked in any order; as long as one makes a breakthrough in any one of them, one can directly enter the three realms of cultivation. Taoists call it the Golden Elixir, Buddhists call it the Relic, and Taoists call it the Life Elixir... It's like three roads, all leading to Rome, but there's only one Rome. Which road you take depends on your strength."

He analyzed the inferior methods for forming the Golden Elixir one by one.

"The Qi Gathering Method requires constantly collecting and refining external Qi, fusing it with one's own essence, Qi, and spirit, and condensing it into a Qi Elixir."

"Once this method is mastered, it requires a continuous supply of external energy to maintain, which comes at a great cost. It's like using a hen to lay eggs; once the hen is gone, the eggs are gone."

"The external alchemy method requires the use of special materials as a medium to enhance one's own essence, qi, and spirit, thereby creating a hard elixir."

However, once this elixir is completed, it must not be damaged, otherwise disaster will surely follow. It is like tying one's life to a stone; if the stone breaks, the person will also perish.

"There is also the [Medicinal Elixir Method], which requires the help of external elixirs to break through the major barriers in the body and achieve the [Medicinal Elixir].

However, once this method is mastered, one needs to take medicine frequently, and there is no potential for further development. This is called "medicine-dependent cultivation"—without medicine, one can hardly move an inch.

While constantly adjusting his mind, Xu Changqing absorbed and exhaled massive amounts of primordial energy.

"None of these methods can produce a perfect and flawless golden elixir; they are collectively called 'false elixirs,' which are inferior. No matter how high one cultivates, one is still a lame mule, unable to pull a heavy cart."

He recalled that he had accidentally cultivated his divine essence in the illusion of wrongful death, and could have broken through to the realm of the first element of the third realm, but he suppressed it at the last moment.

It's like putting food down right in front of your mouth; who wouldn't feel uncomfortable in that situation? But as uncomfortable as it may be, the Taoist priest is after a bigger picture.

A deep smile played on his lips: "But this time it's not that I don't want to break through, it's that I want to take this opportunity to do something big. After all, what's so great about being only at the third realm and first stage? If I'm going to break through, I should break through directly to the third stage, that would be more worthy of my identity as a transmigrator. As the saying goes, 'If you don't make a sound, you're good; if you do, you'll amaze everyone.'"

Looking down at the black bricks beneath him, his eyes were resolute: "Come on, isn't this just metamorphosis? Cicadas shed their shells, snakes shed their skin, but I'm shedding my life."

"The past is dead, like yesterday; the future is like today, like life."

"Amitabha Buddha..."

As soon as he finished speaking, Xu Changqing was engulfed in flames.

The flames were neither red nor yellow, but rather black and white, swirling and rising like yin and yang symbols. Within the flames, a figure could be vaguely seen sitting cross-legged, with a calm expression and a smile on his lips.

The Taoist scriptures say, "Lotus blossoms in fire, yin and yang complement each other." This fire is not a fire that burns the body, but a fire that refines the Tao. It burns the old self and refines the new body.

The will-o'-the-wisps in the city all paid homage, like ten thousand ministers paying homage to their emperor.

The feng shui of the ghost land was reversed; the yin energy receded and the yang energy rose. At this moment, the City of the Wrongfully Dead was like a solitary lamp, illuminating the entire swamp.

Above the blood moon, the hazy figure had vanished, leaving only a large moon hanging silently, as if it had never changed since time immemorial.

The dragon was frolicking in the city when it suddenly caught sight of the black and white flames rising in the square. Its scales exploded and its tail stood straight up.

The dragon paused, a rare look of astonishment appearing on its ferocious and domineering face. Its thick tail lashed out unconsciously, smashing several already crumbling buildings beside it into dust. Then, a thoughtful glint flashed in its vertical pupils, as if it had suddenly understood something.

"Hiss~"

It no longer looked at the raging fire, but instead suddenly shook its head, and thick, inky clouds rose from its four claws, its massive dragon body soaring upwards. As the clouds churned, the demonic dragon snaked its way up the central tower, its scales rubbing against the tower's surface, making a soft "rustling" sound, like the gentle flow of water over stone.

The ghostly bells on the tower jingled and tinkled as the dragon's body touched them. The demonic dragon coiled around and around, rising higher and higher until it completely enveloped the tower. It raised its head and let out a soft hiss towards the crescent moon—

"Hiss~~~~"

The voice was long and desolate, as if calling out something, or as if declaring something.

Below, in the four directions of the central square—south, north, west, and east—the Taoist priests who had been sitting cross-legged like clay statues suddenly rose slowly in unison. Their movements were perfectly synchronized, their stiffness exuding an indescribable solemnity, as if they were being guided by an invisible thread.

"By the Supreme Decree, your lonely soul is liberated. All ghosts and demons, all living beings, shall receive this grace..."

Reciting the "Save from Suffering Sutra" with sincere devotion, the charlatans prostrated themselves with each step as they marched toward the raging fire in the central square. Their foreheads struck the scorched ground with dull thuds, once, twice, three times... Blood seeped from their temples, yet none of them stopped.

From a distance, the scene didn't look like someone going to their death, but rather like a grand ascension ceremony. The blood moon served as lamps, the raging fire as an altar, bowing as a gesture of respect, and chanting as music.

Right in the heart of the fire, Xu Changqing was experiencing the longest torment of his life.