Chapter Thirty-Nine: Slaying Demons with Branches

Shen Chang’an was both shocked and anxious. He never would have imagined that this fierce ghost would leap directly out of his own body.

A guttural roar rang out—not like Madam Li, who had become a cunning spirit, but this wandering, vicious specter possessed little intelligence. It couldn’t even speak, but let out a furious howl and lunged straight at Shen Chang’an.

Shen Chang’an had already thrown out a Talisman of Evil Suppression, but this malevolent ghost was no easy prey. Though the talisman restrained it for a fleeting moment, the specter soon broke free.

Panic rose in Shen Chang’an’s heart. He didn’t have a powerful Azure Peng Demon-Slaying Talisman at hand, and facing a ghost even stronger than Madam Li left him deeply uncertain. What’s more, Chen Mengchen was still beside him, further distracting his focus.

Thinking of this, he called out, “Mengchen, go!”

“But—”

“Don’t waste time. If you leave, I’ll have a better chance to escape!”

Seeing his resolve, Chen Mengchen bit her lip, not daring to argue further. Staying would only encumber Shen Chang’an in the face of these fiends.

As he watched her depart, Shen Chang’an felt the urge to flee as well, but quickly suppressed the thought. This ghost had come for him; if he simply ran away, wouldn’t he be leaving it to harm others? He was not one to abandon innocents to such a fate. If he was to leave, it would only be after slaying the specter. If escape proved impossible, then he’d risk his life to vanquish it.

With a flicker of resolve, several Ghost-Slaying Talismans appeared in his hand. He snatched up a fallen branch, pressed a talisman to its surface, and immediately a faint glow shimmered along the wood.

“Thank goodness it’s a ghost and not a demon, or I’d be doomed.” After all, a mere branch couldn’t harm a demon, but it might just suffice against an incorporeal ghost.

“Come on, let’s fight to the bitter end!”

With a furious roar, Shen Chang’an’s eyes blazed as if ignited by flames, radiating a fierce light. Spiritual power surged through his body, fueling a powerful burst of strength.

The branch whistled through the air, aiming straight for the specter’s head.

Though lacking intelligence, the ghost was not altogether witless. Sensing danger, it soared aloft, and Shen Chang’an’s branch only grazed its tattered robes, leaving a streak of ash.

“Damn it…” Ghosts could hover and fly, while Shen Chang’an could not. In agility, he was at a clear disadvantage.

The specter, having evaded his strike, whirled about and lunged at Shen Chang’an’s back, clawing for his heart.

With a cold snort, Shen Chang’an channeled his spiritual power to his back. The moment the ghost’s hand touched him, it recoiled as if scalded.

“Hah, the Supreme Purity Resonance Technique does have its uses…”

Outwardly calm, Shen Chang’an was in truth shaken. The ghost had nearly torn out his heart in that instant.

Fortunately, he had recently studied the Supreme Purity Resonance Technique. Though he couldn’t truly cultivate with it, following its methods allowed him to focus his energy effectively—unlike before, when he could only rely on passive spiritual flow.

“Roar—!”

Enraged by the pain in its hand, the ghost spun itself into a whirlwind, intent on lifting Shen Chang’an and dashing him to pieces.

A sense of foreboding seized him. Not only was this ghost powerful, but it also wielded no small number of tricks.

The talismans he had left were only those he’d crafted before—none of the truly formidable ones that required both advanced technique and rare materials.

“Get lost!” As the demonic wind swept in, Shen Chang’an flung another Talisman of Evil Suppression and leapt back, dodging the attack.

The talisman held the ghost for a second, freezing its form and dispersing its assault. Yet Shen Chang’an’s peril was far from over; his supply of usable talismans was running dangerously low.

“This thing must be here for a reason… The only explanation I can think of is that ancient beast-skin book… Hah, I buried it, and it still comes for me? Damn it all…”

Shen Chang’an watched the ghost’s furious rampage, and a sudden thought occurred to him.

“If it truly came because of that beast-skin book, its goal must be to kill me… That makes me the perfect bait, doesn’t it?”

A flurry of ideas flooded his mind. He pulled out a talisman and activated it.

At once, his form faded, his aura became faint, and he seemed to vanish into thin air.

A Concealment Talisman.

True to its name, this talisman could hide one’s presence. Yet it was only effective against ordinary people; those with spiritual power had many ways of seeing through it. Shen Chang’an himself could use the Jade Medallion of Zhonglong to easily locate hidden individuals, and other cultivators or demonic beings certainly had their own methods.

This ghost, too, had ways of tracking him, but Shen Chang’an’s sudden disappearance left it momentarily stunned. In a fit of rage, it began smashing everything nearby, desperately trying to force him out.

“Beast is as beast does…” Though its strength had grown, the ghost’s intelligence was still lacking. Losing track of Shen Chang’an, it didn’t immediately search for his trail, but instead wasted energy in wild destruction.

After venting for a while, it finally remembered it could pierce such tricks. At once, it released thick waves of yin energy, probing the area. The living’s yang energy clashed with the dead’s yin—Shen Chang’an was instantly exposed.

With a roar, the ghost lunged straight at him.

Shen Chang’an, for his part, ran headlong without a thought of fighting back.

Man and specter raced across the ground, covering dozens of meters in moments. Suddenly, Shen Chang’an twisted his body, shielding his face with his arms, and dashed down a low slope.

The ghost did not hesitate, flying after him, intent on seizing his head.

Shen Chang’an barreled down the slope at breakneck speed, the ghost in hot pursuit, heedless of obstacles—after all, as a spirit, nothing could impede it…

Crack!

A branch as sharp as a blade suddenly caught the ghost, wrenching away a mass of its yin energy and nearly severing its form.

The specter paused, barely reacting before a second branch stabbed straight through it, slicing open a gaping wound.

Then came a third, a fourth, a fifth…

By the time the ghost realized and tried to stop, it had already been impaled by seven or eight branches. Most of its form was dissipating, its aura fading rapidly.

Only then did Shen Chang’an halt and turn back to face the specter.

His own arms were bleeding, bruised and battered—there was no way he could charge down like that and emerge unscathed. Still, compared to the ghost’s injuries, his were mere scratches.

He exhaled heavily, a savage grin on his face. “Twenty-three talismans in all, and you only took seven or eight before stopping? That’s hardly showing your appreciation for my kindness.”

He strode back, snapping off a branch as he passed, brandishing it like a sword as he advanced on the wounded ghost.

The specter, sensing true danger at last, tried to flee, but its form was so tattered that it moved sluggishly, unable to escape.

For a human, these wounds would be like being slashed open and gutted—yet still being able to move, a testament to the resilience of a ghost’s incorporeal nature.

But though it was gravely wounded, Shen Chang’an himself still had plenty of fight left.

He stamped the ground and leapt, hurling a Talisman of Evil Suppression that exploded in the air and pinned the specter in place.

Then, a branch stabbed down from above.

A piercing shriek rang out as the ghost writhed in agony—only for a second branch to follow immediately after.

Again and again, Shen Chang’an drove branches through the specter’s body, until, with the last one thrust into the earth, the ghost had already been utterly destroyed. The final branch pierced only empty air.

Shen Chang’an finally straightened, letting out a long, exhausted breath. His face was ashen, his heart anxious.

“Damn thing… I got rid of you, but you still haunt me. Hell’s bells… You really won’t stop till I’m dead, will you…”

His good mood evaporated. Weary and battered, he trudged out of the woods.

Outside, he found Chen Mengchen waiting anxiously. Seeing him emerge, her face lit up and she ran to him, throwing her arms around him.

“Chang’an, you’re all right—thank heavens… I thought—”

“It’s nothing, just a petty ghost, can’t hurt me,” Shen Chang’an replied lightly. There was no point worrying her with the truth.

“I… I’m sorry. I knew there might be ghosts here. I shouldn’t have brought you…”

Chen Mengchen hung her head, deeply dispirited. She’d meant for a night of stargazing and confession, only for it to end in disaster.

Shen Chang’an ruffled her hair. “It’s not your fault. I’m just too irresistible—even the dead want a piece of me.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, her mood improving.

“Let’s go. This isn’t the place to talk.” Chen Mengchen nodded, quickly calling a car. She and Shen Chang’an left together.

On the way back, he comforted her as best he could. She rested her head on his chest, and by the time they arrived home, both had dozed off in the car.

The driver gently woke them, and Shen Chang’an took Chen Mengchen upstairs, seeing her to apartment 902 before returning to 901.

As soon as he entered, the ghosts in the room recoiled in terror, huddling near Old Qin in the corner.

“What’s going on?” he asked, puzzled.

Old Qin replied nervously, “Master Shen, the murderous aura on you is too strong… Did you just kill a ghost?”

Shen Chang’an paused, then closed his eyes, murmured a few words, and looked at the spirits again. “How about now?”

They exhaled in relief. “Much better…”

He shook his head. No wonder the people of Qingping Palace were so bloodthirsty—the Supreme Purity Resonance Technique made it all too easy to stir up killing intent. Under its influence, even ordinary people became dangerous; for ghosts, who were especially sensitive to such energy, it was unbearable.

Thankfully, the technique also offered ways to suppress this aura, or these spirits would have known no peace all night.

Shen Chang’an sighed, bone-tired.

This time, he’d been lucky—the incident happened in the wild. What about next time? What if it happened while he slept, or in a crowded city?

The consequences were unthinkable. If anything went wrong, he’d endanger far more than himself.

“Damn it! What a mess!”

He cursed, face dark with frustration. He realized now he could never escape. Even without the book by his side, the ghosts within would always find him.

“I’ll have to go home tomorrow and dig up that book,” he muttered, collapsing onto his pillow.

Suddenly, he noticed the pillow felt oddly high, something hard underneath.

Heart pounding, he reached under—and pulled out the beast-skin book.

“Damn it! You’ve got to be kidding me—!” Shen Chang’an couldn’t help but curse aloud.