Of Weddings and Wakes | Chapter 68 | The Birth of a Rakshasa | Novela.app

He plummeted for an indeterminate time. Faint, chaotic noises began to drift up from below, rapidly swelling into a cacophony of clashing blades, tearing flesh, and unintelligible shrieks. Mu Gesheng tried to distinguish the sounds; it seemed a battlefield lay beneath him. Finally, he landed with a heavy thud, rolled with the momentum, and scrambled to his feet. Logically, a fall from such a height should have been fatal, but aside from a flare of agonizing pain, he appeared uninjured. In this place, health was proportional to pain—this illusion was truly unreasonable. Mu Gesheng surveyed his surroundings and found the situation at the bottom of the Yin-Yang Ladder far worse and more volatile than on the stairs. The ghosts he had encountered on the steps were merely troublesome "little ghosts," but it seemed the truly lethal, malevolent entities were gathered here at the base. If he could wipe out a crowd above, here he could only hope to take them on one by one. Furthermore, the malevolent spirits here were clearly more intelligent, forming factions. Mu Gesheng looked to either side; groups of spirits had gathered on both flanks, glaring at each other with murderous intent, resembling two armies poised for battle. Wait. Mu Gesheng suddenly realized something was wrong. His current position placed him right in the middle of the two sides. If these two groups were facing off, he was like a delicate Sister Lin falling from the heavens, landing right on the Chu-Han border of a chessboard. Those howling, weeping spirits weren't posturing at each other; they were intimidating him, the audacious interloper. Great. The joke was on him. Running was a poor choice; it would only unite the opposing sides to hunt the intruder. But charging forward with bravado wasn't a wise strategy either; he couldn't possibly defeat this many spirits unless he used the Mountain Ghost Coin. However, this was an illusion, and he wasn't sure what the consequences of using the coin would be. Unable to run and unable to fight, Mu Gesheng decisively flopped onto the ground, pulled his military coat over his face, closed his eyes, and played dead. After all these years, Young Commander Mu’s city-wall-thick skin once again proved useful on the battlefield—as long as he couldn't see anything, he wasn't the one who was troubled. Though these spirits had the intelligence to form factions, they lacked the observational skills to judge the enemy. Seeing Mu Gesheng lie still, they seemingly assumed he was dead and promptly ignored him. Soon, the shrieks resumed as the two sides clashed. Curled under his coat, Mu Gesheng used the sounds to track their positions and slowly wormed his way out of the battlefield. The last time he had used this trick was over a century ago. It was his first time following Old Commander Mu into battle, and the old man had been overconfident, suffering a stinging defeat. Adhering to the principle that he had to survive just to go back and mock his father, Mu Gesheng had literally crawled out of a pile of corpses. It was an undignified posture, arching and wriggling along the ground like a pebble with a dream or an indomitable maggot. When the surroundings finally quieted down, Mu Gesheng felt he had put enough distance between himself and the battlefield. He lifted the coat, intending to survey the situation, only to be instantly stunned by the scene in the distance. Those malevolent spirits weren't slaughtering each other. Quite the opposite—their goals were perfectly aligned. They weren't in a standoff; they were forming two lines, attacking a single point from two directions. It was a place shimmering with blue light, like a transparent glass dome rippling with watery waves. Yet, in stark contrast to its delicate appearance, the dome was incredibly sturdy. Every spirit roared as it charged, hacking, hewing, even tearing with its teeth and slamming its entire body against the barrier until it was a bloody mess. But in the end, they all failed; the blue light remained unshaken. The failures would then be devoured by the next spirit in line, who would continue the assault. Mu Gesheng watched as the number of spirits dwindled, though their strength increased with each successor, until the final spirit smashed itself to death against the blue light. He was utterly bewildered. What kind of disciplined, organized suicide was this? However, as he drew closer, Mu Gesheng instantly understood why these spirits were so desperate to die—because within that blue light sat a Mountain Ghost Coin. This was the Mountain Ghost Seal he had left behind all those years ago, a seal that had cost him nearly half his lifespan. As long as the seal remained, the Yin-Yang Ladder would not open. Chai Shuxin’s ability to open the Ladder was an exception; someone possessing the blood of the Taisui Wu Nie was a rarity in this world. As long as the Mountain Ghost Seal remained intact, the malevolent spirits would never see the light of day, ensuring peace in the mortal realm. No wonder they were desperate to shatter the blue light, Mu Gesheng thought. They wanted to destroy the Mountain Ghost Coin. But as a Tiansuan-zi, Mu Gesheng knew exactly how impossible that was. In this world without sun or sky, Mu Gesheng lost track of how long he stayed within the Yin-Yang Ladder. He searched constantly for Chai Shuxin, but the light was too dim and the area too vast; he lost his way several times. Eventually, he decided to camp near the blue light. This was where the spirits were most concentrated; Chai Shuxin was bound to show up sooner or later. He rarely fought the spirits unless it was for self-defense. For one, the spirits here were significantly more powerful than those on the stairs, and he might not win. For another, these spirits were indeed becoming more like Yin Soldiers. The Yin-Yang Ladder needed Yin Soldiers; their presence represented a form of order. Mu Gesheng couldn't stay in this illusion forever. After he left, the balance of the Ladder would need Yin Soldiers to maintain it while they awaited their chance for reincarnation a century later. After several days of observation, Mu Gesheng realized that the "suicide squad" he had first encountered was an anomaly. The main theme at the bottom of the Ladder remained the law of the jungle, with countless spirits slaughtering each other daily. Eventually, the aesthetic fatigue set in, and Mu Gesheng began looking for things to do. He gathered what remains he could find, dug a pit, and created a makeshift communal grave. He even recalled the Rebirth Mantra his master had taught him years ago. Though the Buddha might be incensed by his patchy recitation, it was better than nothing. One day, as Mu Gesheng sat at the bottom of the pit chanting, he heard the ground shake. He stood on his tiptoes and peeked out to see two malevolent spirits locked in a world-shaking duel. He watched for a while, sensing that a Yin Soldier was about to be born; both were incredibly strong, pushing toward a certain limit. After a long time, one side fell with a thunderous crash. According to the habits of these spirits, the victor would devour the loser to become even stronger. *Dinner time,* Mu Gesheng thought, resting his chin on his hand. *This fellow will probably level up after this meal.* But the reality was the exact opposite. He heard the victor emit a strange whistling sound, and then many little ghosts came scurrying out. Mu Gesheng was stunned. He thought the bottom of the Ladder was reserved for the most horrific entities; where did all these little ghosts come from? What shocked him even more followed: the little ghosts swarmed forward and began to feast on the fallen spirit, while the victor stood by, indifferent. This completely violated the survival laws of the Yin-Yang Ladder. Even if he were "farming" these little ghosts, he wouldn't give away such a prime piece of meat; the collective malice of all those little ghosts didn't even add up to that one spirit. Rather than saying he was "farming" them, it was more like he was *raising* them. This wasn't the behavior of a malevolent spirit; it was a form of nurturing that aligned with human understanding. Damn it, there was no doubt. Mu Gesheng thought, *This guy is almost certainly Chai Shuxin.* He was just wondering how to get closer to confirm it when he heard a loud *clack*. The victor suddenly collapsed—he seemed to be wearing something on the outside that could no longer support him, and he fell to the ground. Mu Gesheng jumped in fright, scrambled out of the pit, and ran as fast as he could. He felt he had never run this fast, even when chasing enemies on the battlefield. Seeing the figure fall, the little ghosts began to converge, clearly intending to tear him apart and share the feast. Chai Shuxin, that unlucky bastard, must have had a screw loose. Raising vipers in his bosom—even in the depths of the Avici Hell, he was still trying to be a benevolent healer. Mu Gesheng rushed forward, kicking away the surrounding little ghosts, and looked at the person on the ground. It was indeed Chai Shuxin. Despite the blood and filth, Mu Gesheng recognized that face instantly. He didn't know what Chai Shuxin had endured here, but he recognized the bronze armor the man was wearing—it was the armor of a Yin Soldier. He might have scavenged it somewhere; after all, thousands of troops had once been stationed in the Yin-Yang Ladder. But only a Lingshu-zi like him would realize what it could be used for. The spirits only knew the stuff was hard on the teeth and tasted bad, but the successors of the Great Houses knew that Yin Soldier armor was no ordinary object. Wearing it could even allow one to be assimilated by the environment. No wonder he was so good at fighting just now; he was using this thing to borrow the prestige of a ghost general. Mu Gesheng didn't dare make a sound, so he tentatively patted Chai Shuxin’s face, only to find he couldn't touch him. Where he reached, the image became a blur of shadows. He realized Chai Shuxin was still alive. He leaned in to check Chai Shuxin’s breathing and his heart sank. The man had been at his wit's end when he jumped into the Ladder. The Yin-Yang Ladder was a place of near-certain death; if not for the bronze armor sustaining him, he would have been spent long ago. But now, his breath was as thin as silk, a lamp running out of oil. He was truly going to die. Mu Gesheng froze as the realization hit him. Sanjiutian, Chai Shuxin, the young master of the House of Medicine whose skills were peerless—his end had come. Even though he knew Chai Shuxin had died once in the Yin-Yang Ladder, seeing it with his own eyes was a different kind of agony. Now was not the time for sentimentality. Mu Gesheng steadied himself. The only reason Chai Shuxin still had a breath left was the bronze armor. Once the armor was removed, he would surely die. As far as he knew, Chai Shuxin hadn't spent his whole life encased in this armor. The key question was: after this man died, how did he come back to life? When Chai Shuxin had recounted his past, he had been vague about this experience. Mu Gesheng had assumed he’d had some miraculous encounter in the Ladder—but now the man was about to be eaten by little ghosts. Where the hell was the miracle? In the bellies of the ghosts? *Am I getting in the way?* Mu Gesheng thought he might be a variable and tried to leave the man there to see what happened. But he hadn't gone two steps before the little ghosts swarmed back. He had to turn around immediately. Damn it, he couldn't leave! Mu Gesheng was pacing in circles, but the situation became even more dramatic. A little ghost seized the chance while he was away to bite off a piece of the armor. When Mu Gesheng rushed back, he accidentally grabbed the man's wrist. He could touch him. Mu Gesheng froze in place. His mind was a mess. His first instinct was to kill all these little ghosts, but after one step, he remembered that Chai Shuxin had worked hard to raise them. He had to at least wait for the man to wake up and explain why he did it, to distinguish right from wrong before deciding their fate. The dead cannot return, and the living cannot die. It felt as if something had crashed down from above, snapping his nerves and crushing his spine. His internal organs felt displaced, and blood seemed to surge from his heart, flooding his throat and nose, nearly suffocating him. When Mu Gesheng came to his senses, he found himself clutching Chai Shuxin’s collar tightly. The surrounding little ghosts seemed terrified by him and had retreated far away. He didn't know what sound he had just made. His ears were ringing, his throat was raw, and his head felt like it was about to explode. He felt nauseous. Mu Gesheng sat there for an unknown amount of time, holding Chai Shuxin’s hand, feeling the man’s body grow colder and colder. He couldn't wait any longer. If he waited for that mysterious miracle to appear, the man would be cold as stone. He straightened the man's collar, then picked him up in a horizontal carry and walked toward the nearby blue light. Yin Soldiers had the ability to assimilate malice. Wearing the bronze armor, Chai Shuxin should have naturally transformed into a Yin Soldier after death. But there was a fatal contradiction—he was a Lingshu-zi. A Lingshu-zi spent their life healing the world and gathering merit. Their six senses were pure, and their five precepts were complete. After death, they should receive a blessed reward and a peaceful reincarnation. But he was dying in the Yin-Yang Ladder, suppressed by the Mountain Ghost Seal. No soul could leave. Combined with the corruption of the malice, his original roots of goodness were almost exhausted. He was already half a vengeful spirit. If left alone, his spirit would become just another part of the Ladder’s malice. Even if he became a Yin Soldier, he would be mindless, with no possibility of becoming a Rakshasa. To make the situation follow the path Mu Gesheng knew, there was only one way. Mu Gesheng carried Chai Shuxin into the blue light. Though all the malevolent spirits were helpless against the Mountain Ghost Seal, he was not. As someone who did not belong to this era, the Mountain Ghost Coin was originally his. He looked at the copper coin at the center of the blue light and reached out to grasp it, feeling a familiar warmth. The Mountain Ghost Coin contained a vast expanse. Having been immersed in the Yin-Yang Ladder for so long, it had stored a massive amount of malice. Mu Gesheng pressed the coin into Chai Shuxin’s mouth, then bit his finger and smeared his blood on the man’s lips. Only the Tiansuan lineage knew how to use the Mountain Ghost Coin. Mu Gesheng closed his eyes. His blood resonated with the coin. He carefully distinguished the stored malice, slowly organizing it, and finally channeled it into Chai Shuxin’s body, letting it circulate through his meridians. Fine blue and red lines appeared on Chai Shuxin’s neck, intertwining and coiling. After an indeterminate time, the malice in the Mountain Ghost Coin had almost vanished, and the blue light grew dim. But immediately, a more domineering, ferocious malice expanded, sweeping through everything like a tidal wave. A surge of azure light erupted, nearly drowning the entire Yin-Yang Ladder. The rising and falling shrieks vanished, replaced by a deathly silence like the deep sea. The malice patrolled, and ten thousand ghosts bowed their heads. Mu Gesheng breathed a sigh of relief. He used the coin to nick the tip of Chai Shuxin’s tongue, then applied a drop of his own blood to the wound. When he had first created the Mountain Ghost Seal, he had wagered half of his lifespan. Now that the malice had been transferred to Chai Shuxin, the seal was practically void. He didn't have enough lifespan left to make another one, but fortunately, he had Chai Shuxin. The man’s entire body had been tempered by the Mountain Ghost Coin. Great malice weighed upon him, defying heaven to change his fate, allowing him to be reborn as a Rakshasa. A single drop of blood from the tip of a newly born Rakshasa’s tongue was enough to serve as a new Mountain Ghost Seal, ensuring the Yin-Yang Ladder remained secure for a century. Mu Gesheng looked at the lines on Chai Shuxin’s palm and recalculated the man’s fate. A Rakshasa was usually born in times of chaos, often in a pile of corpses—children born to refugees, wreathed in ghostly energy and violent by nature. But someone who had their fate forcibly changed by a Mountain Ghost Coin was a first among the Seven Houses. A Lingshu-zi in life, a Rakshasa in death. From saving lives to taking them—Mu Gesheng felt that what he had done was truly the act of a madman. But compared to Chai Shuxin’s courage in jumping down the Yin-Yang Ladder, they were two of a kind. "Trespassing into the West City Pass, suppressing Yin Soldiers, jumping into the Yin-Yang Ladder... we really have been crazy together from start to finish." Mu Gesheng recalled the past and couldn't help but sigh. "And now, we’re going to be crazy for another hundred years." You saved me, and I saved you. A century later, we remain as we were. The surroundings became very, very quiet. Tempering the heart and meridians with the Mountain Ghost Coin was exhausting. Fatigue washed over him. Mu Gesheng settled Chai Shuxin comfortably, then walked back to the grave pit he had dug. He lay down and drifted into sleep without realizing it. When he woke again, Mu Gesheng heard voices. The voice was hoarse, but he still recognized Chai Shuxin’s tone. The man was not far above him, seemingly talking to himself. "Defying heaven to change fate was a desperate gamble. I was prepared to go and accompany him. I didn't expect it to actually succeed." *I was the one who helped you change it, alright? If it were up to you, you’d have been a wandering ghost long ago. And who wants your company? Is the Naihe Bridge not crowded enough?* "Since I’ve survived, I still have unfinished business." *You unfilial son, what trouble are you going to cause now?* "But before that, I will stay here." *Stay here for what?* "The Yin-Yang Ladder needs new Yin Soldiers. I won't leave until then. I will take care of you all, just as we once promised." *What on earth is he talking about?* "You’ve grown very fast. I still remember when you came to visit your father, holding your sister’s hand, telling me he had returned." Mu Gesheng really couldn't understand. He peeked his head out and saw Chai Shuxin nearby, standing before two little ghosts. He was crouching, murmuring softly. "Back then, you refused to leave. You insisted on sneaking into the military camp and asked me to look after your sister." He fell silent for a moment, then said, "I shouldn't have promised you." Mu Gesheng looked at the two little ghosts. They weren't tall and were holding hands. Suddenly, he knew who Chai Shuxin was talking about. He remembered the boy who sold newspapers at the pier, calling out "Brother Mu" with such spirit. It was Xiao Fengzi and his sister. He also understood why Chai Shuxin was raising these little ghosts. Chai Shuxin didn't know what method he had used or how long he had spent, but in this boundless darkness, he had slowly found the familiar people from back then. Most souls became unrecognizable after entering the Yin-Yang Ladder, and after so many years, even Mu Gesheng would have found it difficult to recognize the old friends who had once lived in the ancient city. But Chai Shuxin had done it. The sound of chewing echoed nearby. Through the hazy darkness, he saw Chai Shuxin tear off a strip of his hem and wrap it around his arm. The air was filled with the faint scent of blood. Chai Shuxin was feeding them with his own flesh and blood. The flesh and blood of a Rakshasa could allow vengeful spirits to become Yin Soldiers at the fastest speed, awaiting their eventual reincarnation. Mu Gesheng watched for a while, then lay back down. Buried among the scattered remains, he continued to recite his fragmented Rebirth Mantra. The man’s murmurs continued to drift down from above, like a sutra chanted just for him. ***