Chapter 15: Master (Part 7)

He Tingtong lit the rhinoceros horn lamp. In the greenish firelight, several pale faces were illuminated.

“Reporting to Immortal Lord Qin Tan, we… still cannot find our bearings.” The white-faced, long-bearded middle-aged man was covered in cold sweat, looking awkwardly at that proud, stern face across the table—difficult to read joy or anger—his voice dropping even lower, weakly saying: “Moreover, the divination master’s hexagrams have also failed.”

“The warehouse still stores over three thousand jin of spirit stones, but if we keep the lower deck’s protective array open, the spirit boat’s spiritual energy will be depleted within ten days. If the wings don’t move, sooner or later we’ll fall into the water!”

A dozen of them sat around the spirit boat’s core. This place was at the front. To ensure an open view, three sides used smooth white glazed glass for doors and windows—excellent visibility. Because of this, they could clearly see half a foot above the boat, countless corpses illuminated by the rhinoceros horn lamp—bloody, bloated and swollen twisted limbs piled and pressed against it, limbs flying wildly as they crawled past, densely packed blood-red palm prints pressing and clawing, then scorched by the boat-protecting spiritual energy, burning out pitch-black charcoal colors.

All were ghosts—tens of thousands of evil souls rising with the mist, wrapping the entire spirit boat, unable to see sky or sun.

Three days ago, the spirit boat flew over Yimeng Marsh. The nine-hundred-li great marsh was located at the junction of Xing Province, Yu Province, and Hua Province—magnificent waves, vast and boundless. According to legend, lantern-carrying dragon maidens often appeared here, manifesting to guide mortal vessels when they lost their way.

Unfortunately, they didn’t encounter dragon maidens—they encountered ghost swarms.

Initially, only a patch of white fog appeared ahead on the route. The captain didn’t care.

Yimeng Marsh was too large. Now in winter, much water and fog on the great marsh was common. This route was an old road the Xiangli clan had traveled countless times. Any troublesome things had long been cleared away. Moreover, the main family equipped every spirit boat with ten sixth-realm sword cultivators plus one divination master for escort—enough to handle over ninety percent of accidents.

In just an instant, the spirit boat lost control. The mist grew so dense one couldn’t see their hand before their face. The thick water vapor made them feel as if they’d fallen to the lake bottom. One breath felt like directly pouring a bowl of water into the lungs—ice-cold, wet and sticky, seemingly able to smell the rotten stench of underwater silt. Some physically weak mortals in the lower hold nearly choked to death in the water mist.

Fortunately, the captain promptly activated the spirit boat’s restrictions, expelling the invading water vapor. When the rhinoceros lamp illuminated, they discovered densely packed water ghosts all around, hand in hand rising from the lake bottom with the mist, clinging to the spirit boat’s bottom, using teeth to gnaw ship wood, attempting to drag this behemoth into the water.

Among the nine provinces were many strange and treacherous places, but most gathered in desolate, sparsely populated areas. The Immortal Alliance would regularly dispatch disciples to travel and investigate the four directions, clearing away anomalies—let alone routes like this heading to Central Province.

At first the captain thought they just needed to pass through this water area. But after sailing one day, two days, three days later, the mist remained. Compasses failed, communication spirit tools couldn’t send messages, the divination master exhausted all means but couldn’t divine anything. They were like small insects caught in a spider web—the more they struggled, the faster spirit stones depleted. And when spirit stones were exhausted, falling onto the water surface, they’d be devoured completely by these countless evil souls.

Unable to ascend to heaven or enter earth, calling for help to no avail.

The captain realized things were very wrong and sent people out of the spirit boat to investigate. But of the seven-person team that left the spirit boat, only one returned, pointing at the water surface in extreme terror, as if having seen some enormous monster.

Their boat had been captured by something.

The captain didn’t dare act rashly anymore. He could only truthfully inform the immortal guests on the upper three floors of the current situation to discuss countermeasures together. If there was no solution, he could only write a final letter, then fight desperately to the death.

Fortunately, while seeking help he discovered they had a sword immortal on this journey.

Upon seeing the Sword Sect insignia, the captain nearly knelt down, wishing he could embrace Qin Tan’s thigh and weep bitterly.

A tenth-realm sword cultivator!

Wonderful—it’s Immortal Lord Qin Tan! We’re saved!

Su Tan’s gaze was dazed, legs trembling, face deathly pale. The corner of his eye caught a glimpse of a bloated water corpse pressed against the window crawling past. His whole body stiffened, screaming internally, nearly fainting.

Only the warmth of He Tingtong’s palm pressed on his shoulder could help him regain a bit of rationality, working hard to maintain Qin Tan’s external persona.

Su Tan was afraid of ghosts.

Very, very afraid.

The kind of afraid where watching “The Ring” as a child left him with psychological trauma about TVs for years.

If not for the two companions behind him, he’d probably have already collapsed and fainted seven or eight times.

Yet the middle-aged man before him stared at him deadly, as if he were some savior.

“May I ask if you, Immortal Lord, have thought of any method to escape?” The captain looked anxiously at Su Tan and the two tall youths behind him, carefully saying: “It’s truly this minor cultivator’s incompetence—cannot see through these ghost swarms’ cause. Moreover… spirit stones on the boat are limited, cannot support much longer. This concerns an entire boat of lives. Please, Immortal Lord, give some guidance. Whatever is needed, we’ll certainly cooperate fully!”

Su Tan’s expression was blank, looking down half-dead. Eyes pitch-black and empty, staring made one’s heart tighten.

Those who cultivate the killing path bear heavy karma. Sword Sect members historically tend to go mad easily. Qin Tan was a leader among them, reputation far-reaching, but his name wasn’t considered too good.

The captain had heard rumors long ago. Fearful and uneasy, he quickly explained: “This minor cultivator has no other meaning. This journey can entirely be considered employment. If you can resolve this difficulty, the main family will certainly present generous gifts, visiting your door to express thanks!”

Su Tan remained dazedly silent.

Even more frightening.

“Captain, don’t worry. This place is strange—my family’s immortal lord also needs time to think of countermeasures.” He Tingtong looked at the middle-aged man, attitude gentle and polite. “Please trouble you to bring a copy of Yimeng Marsh’s maps.”

The captain rose as if saved, quickly presenting the maps with both hands. He Tingtong received them, thanked him, then invited everyone out.

The door gently closed. Once everyone left, the youth originally leaning on the chair suddenly sprang up, covering eyes with both hands, nearly fainting backward.

“Prosperity, civilization, democracy, harmony!”

“Equality, freedom, justice, rule of law!”

“Patriotism, dedication, integrity, friendship!”

“Ahhhhhhhh ghosts!”

Fu Fengyan cracked melon seeds beside him. Recently the cabin was too damp—the seeds weren’t crisp anymore. He pinched them open one by one with his hand, piling the kernels on a small dish, then roasting them once with spirit fire before handing them to He Tingtong.

Probably bored, lately he especially liked using seed-cracking to pass time, and was very enthusiastic about feeding his companions.

He Tingtong pushed the kernels back. “Not eating. Eating too much causes internal heat.”

Fu Fengyan: “…”

So he picked them up one by one to eat himself.

He Tingtong lightly patted Su Tan’s shoulder. “Stop shouting. Even if you shout your throat raw, these things won’t disappear.”

He raised his hand to spread the map. “Brother Tan, the situation is urgent. We may need to figure out how to save ourselves.”

Su Tan: “…”

Actually, He Tingtong had discovered something wrong a day ago. This mist came suddenly, the aura also gloomy and uncomfortable.

The first night after encountering the mist, after Qin Tan came out at night, He Tingtong consulted him about this matter. The other only looked once through the window at the lake bottom, then snorted disdainfully before saying: “This is the Xiangli clan’s boat. They naturally have their own raised guards. Where would they need me, a Sword Sect disciple, to act?”

“Moreover,” the youth raised a long eyebrow, sneering coldly, “didn’t your Brother Tan say he’d protect you two? Why ask me? If there’s anything, ask him.”

The following nights, Qin Tan indeed didn’t say a word at night.

What happened to the spirit boat they rode was indeed strange. Yimeng Marsh was extremely wide, extremely deep, thus had many strange undercurrents. Having water ghosts here wasn’t unusual, but strange was—so many water ghosts gathered in one place.

Water ghosts who died by drowning would indeed seek substitutes, dragging living people into water to exchange for their own liberation. Because of this, they often wouldn’t cluster together. Even when gathering, it was by area—absolutely wouldn’t be like now, densely packed, thousands upon thousands squeezed together.

Moreover, this Yimeng Marsh water area was famously stable, blessed within, for many years almost no water ghosts appeared. Though in recent years strange phenomena occurred, they were all minor disturbances—how could it be like now, this scene resembling Asura hell?

“The spirit boat stopped here three days ago. According to the captain, if we flew forward three days, then we should approximately be stopped here now.” He Tingtong’s fingertip lightly tapped, landing on a small point on the map. “A hundred meters away, there should be a small island.”

Su Tan’s gaze was blank. “Then what?”

“Water ghosts are unborn, will instinctively grab living people to drag underwater. But I once studied at the sect and learned a life-concealing talisman that can mask aura, preventing water ghosts from detecting my existence.” He Tingtong pulled out a talisman from his chest. “This afternoon, I’ll descend from the spirit boat, following water ghost tracks downward to investigate. If I see that island, it proves we’re moving forward. If not… then we’re not on Yimeng Marsh anymore.”

“No.” Su Tan rejected outright. “Didn’t you hear the captain say? The team of sixth-realm cultivators the boat sent out before—only one came back alive. You’re only second realm! Moreover, whatever can attract so many ghost souls here must be even more terrifying. You leaving the boat—isn’t that equivalent to sending yourself to die?”

“But we can’t just sit here waiting for death. This boat has over six hundred people—more than half are mortals. If the boat sinks, we cultivators have ways to fly up, sinking in water we have water-repelling pearls. But if they die, they’ll truly be dragged down by water ghosts. At that time there’ll only be even more water ghosts.” He Tingtong looked at Su Tan seriously. “I’ll just go look, guarantee nothing will happen.”

Su Tan quickly covered his mouth. “Don’t raise death flags!”

He glared viciously once at outside the window, then was scared into shuddering by bloody palm prints, quickly withdrawing his gaze. Then gritting teeth, he tore off a piece of cloth to blindfold his eyes. “This damn fantasy world view! Give me the talisman. Stay on the boat, don’t move. I’ll go down!”

He Tingtong raised an eyebrow. “Brother Tan, like this you can’t see anything. How will you investigate?”

Su Tan’s face showed wooden resignation as if facing death. “Directly jumping down should also arrive. Then I’ll secretly lift a crack…”

“No, I’m not reassured. You’re my only fellow townsman in this other world. I can’t let anything happen to you.” He Tingtong’s fingers twisted—one talisman rubbed open, immediately staggered into three sheets. He looked at Su Tan before him with tightly closed eyes, face showing slight triumphant smile. “If you go down, I go down too. Together. A’Fu and I will lead the way, be your eyes.”

“Brother Tan, you’re the most capable. I believe in your abilities. When the time comes, just cut whatever you see. If you’re not there, we’ll also worry.”

Su Tan: “…”

He couldn’t see anything before his eyes, palm gripping an ice-cold long sword. Not knowing where courage came from, gritting teeth, he extended his hand. “Good!”

He Tingtong covered his hand over Su Tan’s. “If we go, we go together.”

Su Tan faced death unflinchingly. “Go together. Anyway, if I can’t come up, you two will die anyway. Might as well die together!”

“What do you think, A’Fu?”

Two heads looked toward Fu Fengyan. He also learned He Tingtong’s posture, carefully pressing his palm on top, stacking hands, nodding, echoing: “Mm, die together.”