Chapter 36
Chapter 36: Good Union
This was something Juan Bu did without telling Hu Qing. He knew Xuan Xue could hear him.
As a spirit entity himself, he understood too well what a conscious, awakened Xuan Xue would face—soon, or someday far in the future.
Could an extreme yin land stay hidden forever?
Could Xuan Xue remain unseen forever?
Or would it step into the world and crush heaven, earth, and everyone in between the moment it appeared?
The immortal realm had living beings. Living beings had endless malice. Malice could kill people—and it could ruin realms. Xuan Xue was a spirit entity, an extreme yin body, and unless it was powerful enough to suppress every immortal clan, its fate was easy to guess.
Juan Bu had seen brilliant stars fall. More than enough.
So he left that line behind. He didn’t even know why. Maybe it was the thin bond between them. Maybe it was to give Hu Qing a future ally. Maybe it was nothing more than the instinct to huddle together for warmth.
Juan Bu thought too much.
Hu Qing thought nothing at all.
When she reached the surface, her eyes were swollen red. She climbed onto the spirit skiff and cried the whole way toward heaven’s grace continent. People stared at her like she was transporting a corpse.
“Bad luck.”
“Stay away. Don’t ruin our fortune.”
They scattered. Even those who’d been quietly sizing her up decided it wasn’t worth the bad omen.
Juan Bu, watching the sudden clear space around them, muttered, “Well. That’s an unexpected bonus.”
He tried, one last time, to talk sense into her. “Xuan Xue is going home. You’re crying like—”
“Like it died?” Hu Qing wiped her face with her sleeve, voice hoarse. “You only appreciate something after you lose it. Xuan Xue was so thoughtful, so cute—the only one who never made me angry. And I neglected it, and now I’ve lost it. I’m the worst.”
A cultivator who didn’t believe in “omens” drifted closer, clearly intending to make conversation. He caught the last part—“I’m the worst”—and his face turned an ugly green. He shot away as if burned.
Someone who cursed herself like that wouldn’t live three days. Better to stay far, far away.
Juan Bu wanted to shout after him and explain, but no one could hear him. He could only say to Hu Qing, “You can visit it later.”
Hu Qing’s chin trembled. “Is that the same? If I go to its door, I’m a guest. Wuwu… we’re not family anymore.”
She broke down again.
Juan Bu gave up and fell silent.
The crying didn’t stop until they reached heaven’s grace continent.
Hu Qing had no interest in treasure hunting. She only wanted to cross the continent as fast as possible and get back to little li realm.
But the others were nothing like her. heaven’s grace continent was a blessed land. People came here to dig for fortune.
Treasure hunters, thieves, vendettas old and new—chaos everywhere. And canyon realm’s local forces had arrived early, fighting over ore veins and territory, tearing at each other like cats in a sack.
Hu Qing detoured again and again, looping so many times her grief started to fade from sheer exhaustion.
Then, at last, someone appeared directly in front of her spirit skiff, blocking the way.
All the leftover sorrow evaporated.
Hu Qing snapped, “Even a poor ghost like me gets robbed? How picky are you not?”
Six cultivators stood across from her. All of them froze.
Poor… fine. They were poor too. That was why they were robbing her. Robbing the poor to help the poor—how noble. How embarrassing.
One of them cleared his throat and said, “Our spirit skiff broke. Hand yours over.”
No threats. No “and we’ll spare your life.”
Because this was the immortal realm. No one cared about leaving a way out. If you offended someone, they killed you. Then they erased your soul, just to be sure.
Everyone understood what came next.
Hu Qing drew Bai Wen. “Enough talking.”
They moved at once—front, back, left, right, above, below—sealing every direction, cutting off every escape.
Killing intent burst in her chest like fire.
These people… these people were here to suck little li realm dry. If little li realm collapsed, they’d all be executioners.
Bai Wen hummed. Her gaze flashed.
All of you can die.
A wet crack sounded.
Hu Qing froze mid-strike, still holding Bai Wen, staring straight ahead with eyes wide and mouth open.
The man in front had been pierced through the chest by a chain. It punched through his heart and whipped upward, the far end looping into an almost playful flourish.
Blood clung to it.
And somehow—somehow—Hu Qing still managed to see a shy, almost cute air in the movement.
Her throat tightened.
Xuan Xue.
And then she cried again.
Juan Bu’s voice came out rough. “Stop crying. Look—Xuan Xue left you the soul-locking chain. It’s thinking of you.”
Hu Qing cried harder.
Juan Bu, on the verge of losing it, barked, “Stop! Look at them—good union is draining everything. Spiritual power, life force, soul power. All of it!”
From the wounds, visible streams of spiritual power and invisible torrents of vitality and soul essence poured into the chain. In only a few breaths, all six cultivators collapsed into dried husks.
No rebirth. No reincarnation. Nothing left.
Hu Qing sniffled and gathered the corpses. Then she carefully wiped the chain clean—gentle, almost reverent.
And then, without hesitation, she started looting.
Juan Bu fell silent.
When she finished, Hu Qing spat, “Tch. All six together aren’t even as rich as one masked bandit.”
Juan Bu decided he wasn’t speaking for a while.
Hu Qing burned the corpses to ash with a single fire. She cast cleansing spell after cleansing spell, then rubbed fragrant oil into her hands until she felt clean all the way through.
Only then did she summon the soul-locking chain again.
“Xuan Xue really left it for me.” She stared at it, stunned. “I didn’t even know.”
It must have been at the very end, when that leaf curled around her finger—quietly, secretly.
What a good Xuan Xue.
Her nose burned again.
Juan Bu groaned, “Here we go.”
Hu Qing hugged the chain for a moment, then forced herself to breathe.
This wasn’t death. This wasn’t separation forever. Xuan Xue going home was a good thing.
Its origins were extraordinary. It could never truly belong to her.
All that blood and divine sense she’d poured into forcing a bond back then probably looked like childish foolishness to it.
Xuan Xue had only tolerated her because it was gentle.
Hu Qing let out a long sigh and held the chain up to her eyes. “You probably don’t deserve it either.”
The chain was silent. It had no consciousness to answer her.
Hu Qing sighed again. “You’re a yin thing. Do I keep you in my dantian, or my sea of consciousness?”
“Bind it,” Juan Bu urged. “Hurry up and bind it before it runs away too.”
Hu Qing shook her head after a brief probe. “No need. Xuan Xue already dealt with it. This chain is mine.”
Then she hesitated, frowning.
She had a metal fire spirit root. How was she supposed to nourish a yin chain?
Juan Bu sounded offended by her slowness. “You have merit. There’s nothing merit can’t handle.”
Or she could change cultivation methods—but her spirit roots didn’t match. If she forced herself into yin-path techniques, what then? Swinging a giant hammer, hauling coffin lids for the rest of her life?
No thanks.
Merit.
Hu Qing went still.
She’d earned plenty, but she hardly used it. Once, to open the ghost gate. Once, to soothe Scorching Sun Blaze. After that, she had only a pitiful little scrap left.
But her merit had come from guiding ghosts into the Underworld Court. In a way, it belonged to the same road as a soul-locking chain.
And wasn’t the ghost gate itself able to come and go freely in her sea of consciousness? Where did it even hide?
At least she had something to do now.
Hu Qing peeled off a thread of merit and fed it into the chain. The rest of the journey, she spent refining it, turning it over again and again in her spiritual sense.
The deeper she refined, the more shocked she became.
This chain had been forged by someone terrifyingly powerful, using materials that were equally terrifying.
No wonder Xuan Xue had accepted it and kept it in its basin.
And it had a name.
Good union.