Chapter Fifteen: Mercy, Great Immortal

Jiang Lan looked closely at the ghostly woman. Though her complexion was so pale it was almost frightening, her brows were fine as distant ink strokes and her waist as slender as a willow in the breeze—a true beauty in the making.

“Picked her up from a friend,” Jiang Lan replied.

The Three-Eyed Daoist began to wail.

Yun Xiangxiang lowered her eyes and took a step back. “You sneaked into the Xing residence under cover of darkness—what wicked intentions do you harbor? I have no quarrel with you. Today, I’ll let you go. Whatever your designs, abandon them now. If you do not…” With a flick of her slender sleeve, the massive stone beside her crumbled instantly to powder. “Your fate will be as this rock’s.”

Though the words were a threat, paired with her timid and hesitant demeanor, Jiang Lan couldn’t help but let out a laugh, equal parts annoyed and amused.

“Little ghost, little ghost, with a disposition as timid as yours, how can you hope to survive in such a wicked world?”

Yun Xiangxiang hadn’t expected her bluff to be met with ridicule. The mocking glint in his eyes made her certain this must be the scoundrel White Aunt and Minglang had mentioned.

“You—you… you scoundrel!” Realizing she was outmatched, she tried to muster bravado. “Since you know some Daoist arts, you must be familiar with my White Aunt’s reputation. If you intend harm to me or the Xing family, just you wait.”

Jiang Lan cocked her head. “White Aunt? Never heard of her.” She took another step forward. “You don’t seem accustomed to harsh words, miss. A proper threat ought to be more forceful.”

Yun Xiangxiang was startled by the man’s insolence and retreated several steps, until her back pressed against the cold, artificial rockery.

“You—you—you! What do you want?”

With a sigh, Jiang Lan drew a triangular yellow talisman from her robes. The ghostly woman shrank back, terrified.

“I don’t mean you harm.” Seeing her hesitate, Jiang Lan seized the opportunity and pressed the talisman into her hand.

Xiangxiang, frightened out of her wits, braced for pain, but none came. Looking up, she saw only a gentle smile on the ordinary man’s face, free of malice, and found herself asking, “What is this?”

“I don’t know your aunt, but I feel we are fated to meet. With a temperament like yours, trouble may find you easily. If anything happens, burn it and call for me.”

“Thank you.” Looking at the talisman in her hand, Xiangxiang’s eyes welled with tears. In more than twenty years, aside from her aunt, only this stranger had shown her any concern. She was about to apologize for her earlier rudeness when a sudden splash startled her, and she dropped the talisman. “Minglang!”

Jiang Lan saw a white figure dart away and frowned deeply, sensing trouble. He followed.

His body was but mortal, and he only managed to keep up by using a teleportation charm. He was curious what matter could be so urgent that the ghostly woman would burn her very soul to rush toward it. It must have something to do with this “Minglang” she had cried out for.

When he arrived, Jiang Lan’s eyes widened in shock at the sight by the lake. Countless water-spirits were swarming toward a man and a ghost at the shore. The ghostly woman, no longer proud or lovely, was disheveled and ragged, barely able to protect herself, yet still clutching the figure of a man who was sinking into the water.

The man’s face was that of the sleepwalking youth from before.

“Ah, yet another tragic entanglement…”

The water-spirits in the lake noticed Jiang Lan standing on shore and some immediately turned toward him. They were mostly evil ghosts, transformed from villains who had died violently in water—broad-shouldered, thick-waisted, with grotesque scars slashing across their faces and chests, hair drifting in the water, concealing festering sores.

The sores were shocking, swollen and pus-filled, nearly translucent, the infected fluid inside a toxic green rather than the usual yellow.

Seeing that this mortal could perceive them, the water-spirits grew calculating. Noticing that he lacked the aura of a Daoist immortal or a shaven monk, they deemed him merely a second-rate sorcerer.

“Get lost, or we’ll drag you down and devour you as well.”

They bared their fangs, faces twisted with murderous intent.

“Let the girl go—no, the ghost,” Jiang Lan said, seating himself at the water’s edge, occasionally dipping a foot in the lake, perfectly at ease.

“Brothers, we’ve got a cheeky one here. Forget the ghost, let’s get him!” barked the largest spirit.

At his command, the other spirits surged toward Jiang Lan.

“Yes, just like that.” Jiang Lan rose with a sly smile, his presence at once eerie and intimidating. “If you have demands, speak them—I promise not to hit your face.”

“Hmph, boy, you talk big for someone so young!”

Three breaths later, Jiang Lan dusted off his hands—though no dust remained—glancing at the crater beside him, where the water-spirits now lay battered and bruised, sporting enormous lumps.

“Mercy, great immortal, mercy!” they begged.

Jiang Lan paid no heed to the wailing lackeys and hurried to the shore, pulling the young man up with the help of the ghostly woman.

“Immortal master, please, save Minglang.” Seeing the man unconscious, Yun Xiangxiang’s tears fell freely as she knelt before Jiang Lan. “I beg you, save him.”

Jiang Lan had little patience for women weeping over men. He helped her up and glanced at the drenched, limp youth. “Where did this brat come from? Hmph.”

He crouched down, pressing two fingers to the young man’s nose and neck. “He’s fine, just swallowed too much water and fainted. Use your magic to press his Tianshu acupoint—he’ll wake.”

Grateful, Yun Xiangxiang followed his instructions, but the youth remained unresponsive.

“Immortal master, why isn’t Minglang waking?”

“Strange…” Jiang Lan rolled up the man’s sleeve, his fingers resting on the pulse. Frowning, he tore open the man’s collar. “Just as I thought.”

Faint, black Daoist symbols shimmered on the young man’s chest, seeping malevolent energy. The aura of resentment that oozed from it was immense and formidable.

Jiang Lan quickly pulled the little ghost girl behind him, shielding her from the malice.

The powerful resentment surged forth, devouring all living things and spirits alike. The cluster of water-spirits became its ideal prey.

Terrified by the monstrous apparition, the water-spirits scrambled to beg Jiang Lan for help. “Great immortal, save us! Please, save us!”

With a sigh, Jiang Lan handed another triangular yellow talisman to the ghostly woman, then swaggered leisurely toward the demon coalescing from resentment.

“Wait, don’t eat just yet!”

The demon, startled from the young man’s body, was still mindless, driven only by hunger. It turned to Jiang Lan, then to the mass of water-spirits, as if deciding which would provide a tastier, more filling meal.

Not being entirely witless, it naturally chose the latter.

The water-spirits leapt from the crater and scattered, but as water-dwellers they could not stray far from the lake, so some cowered behind Jiang Lan.

Following the example, soon a huddle of water-spirits crowded behind him.

“Great immortal, let me hide here.”

“Of course, of course.”

“Great immortal, let me lean on you.”

“Certainly, certainly.”

“Great immortal—”

“Enough! All of you, just get behind me and keep quiet!”