Chapter 219
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Chapter 219: Title
The Ghost in Red pondered whether she’d regress to an ordinary ghostly existence—bound to darkness, shackled by fears, and active only from midnight until dawn.
Midnight: the hour when ghostly energy thickens to its peak.
Dawn: the fleeting moment before sunlight pierces the horizon.
She glanced at her phone—nearly midnight. Stripped of signal and network, the device now only useful for telling time, its glow faint against the gloom.
The huddled group occupied the lone dry patch beneath the temple’s crumbling roof. Though not pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, space stretched thin, breaths mingling in the damp air.
Outside, thunder’s fury had dulled to a grumble, rain persisting in relentless whispers. An unseasonal chill seeped through cracks, turning June’s warmth to autumn’s bite—a shift masked by the fire’s dying flicker.
Or so they thought.
The Ghost in Red smiled thinly. Forced into this spectral half-life yet ever the ghost cultivator, she felt the cold’s creeping tendrils—her own doing.
Beneath smoke-stained beams, the middle-aged man stirred. His blade, previously propped like a staff, now gleamed in a tightened grip as his gaze swept the shadows.
Martial artists brimming with vigor could sense such disturbances. Lesser spirits shunned their blazing vitality, those three fiery auras atop shoulders and crown scorching what dared near.
Her smile sharpened. This world’s mysteries would unveil themselves soon enough—through him.
The swordsman’s voice cut the haze. “Awaken, all.”
Midnight loomed. The temple’s ghostly energy swirled thicker now, laced with something darker—a presence unbothered by mortal flames.
Grumbles rose. “Why rouse us now?” the woodcutter barked, rubbing sleep-crusted eyes.
Ji Yutong shivered, arms clasped. Xiaomei edged closer, breath visible. Women always sensed it first—the gnawing cold, the weight behind shadows.
“Sir, this sudden chill—”
“A ghost haunts these walls,” the man interrupted, blade raised. “Its aura reeks of malice. Leave. Now.”
He vanished into the storm, leaving stunned silence.
“A ghost? Here?”
“Lies! I’ve sheltered here for years—never seen spirits!”
“But why deceive us? That outsider…”
“Bandit trickery! Remember Heishui Mountain’s rumors?”
Voices overlapped as Su Ning turned to Ji Yutong. “Your thoughts?”
“He’s no liar.” The scholar’s face paled. “I’ve seen… things. Ghosts rise at midnight—we’ve minutes left. Go. Now.”
The tales of gods and ghosts Ji Yutong had read often featured fox spirits, scholars, and romantic entanglements. Though curious by nature, she found genuine spectral encounters far more intimidating.
"Then we’ll follow Su Ning’s advice," she declared as the group prepared to depart.
The nearby hunter overheard and urgently interjected, "You trust that stranger’s words? With this torrential rain and unnatural darkness, any misfortune beyond these walls would leave you abandoned by heaven and earth!"
Perched atop the wooden beam, the Ghost in Red observed the debate below with detached indifference, pale fingers drumming rhythmically against the weathered timber.
Adjusting his travel pack, Su Ning finished his explanations before gesturing for Ji Yutong to follow. Though accompanied by her maid Xiaomei, the young woman couldn’t resist glancing backward, wondering if spectral entities truly haunted this crumbling sanctuary.
A frigid gust sent the temple’s tattered cloth banners billowing. For an instant, Ji Yutong glimpsed crimson fabric swirling near the beams – yet upon closer inspection, only shadows remained.
Had it been a trick of the light? The question lingered as she stepped into the storm.
Within the hollowed temple, the remaining occupants exchanged uneasy glances. The departure of three companions amplified the emptiness, while the dying embers and approaching midnight deepened their uncertainty.
…52, 53, 54…58, 59. Midnight struck.
As the Ghost in Red’s gaze met that of a man below, lightning arced across the heavens. The electric glare illuminated her spectral features, reducing the mortal to trembling terror.
"A ghost! Crimson-clad demon on the beam!" His shriek drew all eyes upward.
Pale-skinned and clad in a vibrant crimson dress reminiscent of a bridal gown, the spirit’s glacial countenance required neither movement nor speech to send the mortals scrambling into the night with panicked cries.
"Pathetic."
Her whispered judgment dissolved unheard in the charged air.
With the midnight hour’s passing, the Ghost in Red felt her constraints dissipate. Though vexed, she materialized at the temple entrance and strode into the deluge.
Prior commitments resurfaced in her thoughts – the planned journey to Moon Lake Wonderland with Leng Xingwen after their exchange meeting, postponed for months since the celestial calamity. Yet this unexpected teleportation, while potentially fortuitous, failed to ease her restless spirit.
Rain cascaded around her form as she glided through the forest, crimson skirts untouched by moisture, feet barely grazing the sodden earth. Lightning fractured the sky above, nature’s warning ignored by the undaunted specter. If this world offered opportunities, she’d claim them decisively.
Perhaps salvation’s key lay hidden here.
When thunderbolts descended, she deflected them with a sleeve’s casual flick. Normally lethal to spirits, these weakened strikes suggested fundamental world differences – like wielding antiquated laws against modern officials.
Returning to her initial quarry proved futile; the martial artist’s swift escape left no trail. Instead, her attention shifted to the fleeing scholar and disguised women still within reach.
The warrior mattered little now – fresh prey awaited.
Earlier, in the capital of the Sheng Dynasty.
Within the palace walls.
On a 4-5 meters tall tree, a palm-sized squirrel clung to the branch with utter bewilderment, its beady eyes scanning the surrounding archaic architecture.
"Where is this? Weren’t we at Ao Lan’s residence moments ago?"
"Where’s Ao Lan? Where’s Xiaoye? Why am I alone?"
…
Beyond Sheng Dynasty’s borders.
A human figure crashed onto the grassland, then abruptly shifted form – becoming a sleek black wolf that tore across the plains with primal fury.
…
At the southern seas of Sheng Dynasty.
A figure in white ceremonial robes and tall eboshi hat stood coastal, gently fanning himself while surveying the horizon. "Fascinating. Another World… This might prove advantageous for advancing our Yin-Yang Path."
"Amaterasu shall surely bless our triumph."
"Kōyō, let us explore this realm’s peculiarities."
…
Hancheng City, Sheng Dynasty.
A golden-haired foreigner with azure eyes sprinted through crowded streets, pursued by a dozen martial artists. His prototype combat suit from America’s premier laboratory cleverly mimicked formal Western attire.
…
In the World Tree’s apex chamber, Ye Linlang chuckled while observing thirty fragmented screens.
"Even Blue Star’s most formidable extraordinary individuals falter against linguistic barriers and alien environments post-teleportation."
"System: comprehensively log all experimental parameters for later analysis."
【Affirmative.】
The silver-haired researcher leaned back, satisfied. This preliminary trial had exposed critical adaptation flaws – had this been actual invasion warfare, Blue Star’s defenders would’ve collapsed into chaos.
"Status update on Another World’s visitors to our planet?"
"Activate surveillance feeds."
【Compliance.】
Her crimson nails tapped the console. After witnessing the Heavenly Inquiry temple incident and Outlets shopping district debacle, she harbored no illusions about interdimensional guests blending in seamlessly.
As starfields shimmered across holographic displays, she snapped her fingers. "System: transmit the ‘farming plan’ progress report to my phone immediately."
【Data packet dispatched.】
