Chapter Fifty-Eight: Broken Promise

The Dragon King lowered his arm, his vertical pupils reflecting a strange, unsettling light. They shifted restlessly, betraying thoughts he kept hidden. Never could he have imagined that Jieshen, barely stepping into the ninth rank, would unleash such a world-shattering technique.

Ghost Valley!

He suddenly recalled the place Jieshen had mentioned, vague memories surfacing from the depths of his mind. Abruptly, he raised his head, locking eyes with Jieshen’s resolute gaze. In that instant, he understood the meaning in Jieshen’s eyes.

Fight—if you must!
Kill me—if you can!
But you shall not pass!

The two stood motionless, neither speaking nor moving. After a long silence, a bizarre smile twisted across the Dragon King’s face. He turned away, retracing his steps. After only a few paces, he suddenly reached for his ruined right arm, wrenched it from his shoulder, and, gripping it with his left hand, shoved it into his mouth. The crunch of muscle and bone echoed as he chewed, swallowing mouthful after mouthful.

Gnawing on his own flesh and bone, walking his own path—long and unending, uncertain of right or wrong, yet forced to stumble onward, never to reach the end!

Jieshen stood with his halberd planted in the earth, eyes fixed ahead, unmoving even long after the Dragon King’s departure. Only when a sudden gust swept through did he collapse backwards, his body spraying blood mist that mingled with the scattered earth. He moved no more.

Yet his grotesque face was filled with joy.

At that same moment, hundreds of miles away, a sharp crack resounded as the bronze goblet in Yinsha’s hand caved in, its pointed tip piercing her pale palm. She seemed oblivious, consumed instead by a sudden, overwhelming sense of dread. Yinsha looked around in panic, finding nothing to grasp, urging her subordinates to hurry, faster—still faster!

What happened in Western Settlement?

Sadly, this cloud vessel was borrowed from the Upper Four Armies and far slower than her own Bat Cloud Vessel.

Moments later, her transmission basin connected to Tianku, who appeared lazily in the darkness, unharmed: “Sister, I was just about to find you. Why hasn’t Brother Jieshen arrived yet?”

“Not arrived?” Yinsha’s face turned deathly pale. She trembled as she withdrew the crystal that connected her to Tianku, plunging the basin into darkness. As she reached for another crystal, it slipped and shattered in her shaking fingers.

At last, she connected to her own cloud vessel, which revealed the helmsman left aboard. Facing his mistress, he dared not hide anything, and quickly explained the situation.

Yinsha’s unease grew. She paced the vessel restlessly, her worry mounting until a retainer’s suggestion finally prompted her to send Tianku’s men to check nearby.

Two hours later, when Yinsha reached Western Settlement and found Tianku collapsed in tears, her hands and feet went numb. An eighth rank cultivator, she had to cling to the wall to keep from falling. After several deep breaths, she forced herself forward, following Xiaojiu into the chamber.

Though she had braced herself, seeing Jieshen sent the world spinning; she nearly fainted, caught only by her retainer’s foresight.

The man she had loved for thirteen years, her husband for less than seven days, lay on his back, eyes unfocused, his body smeared with medicine and blood. The physician applied powder again and again, only for it to be washed away by fresh blood, pooling on the bed.

Yinsha’s mouth hung open, her eyes wide. The sobs stuck in her throat, unable to escape.

As if sensing her presence, Jieshen’s eyes regained a glimmer of life. His gaze shifted to Yinsha, standing by his bedside with her mouth and nose covered. He managed a faint smile, lips barely moving.

Yinsha immediately leaned in, her tears streaming uncontrollably.

“I—I am so sorry. I had hoped to grow old with you, to never let you down. It seems I must break my word. This is my fault…”

Yinsha’s heart quaked, her tears flowing like a curtain. She clutched Jieshen’s hand, her fingers pale with effort, desperate to hold onto this happiness but afraid to squeeze too tightly. Silent tears fell; no matter her strength, she was powerless now.

Yanghu, Hui Xiaolin, and Lu Yu, his three disciples, knelt on the floor, kowtowing with tears choking their voices. They dared not disturb their master and mistress’s final moments. The joy of being found by their master had morphed into an unspeakable hatred, growing deep within their hearts.

Jieshen’s hand squeezed Yinsha’s one last time before his breathing grew rapid, life ebbing away. He gazed at Yinsha, his eyes beginning to lose focus, and finally, in broken whispers, said:

“Don’t… don’t hold the Ghost Banquet. Live well… In the next life… I… I’ll come… come back to be with you…”

His weakened hand fell limp.

The room erupted in cries and wails of grief, heartbreaking and sorrowful. Retainers and disciples wept bitterly, but Yinsha’s face grew cold and frozen, her remaining tears crystallizing on her cheeks. Her spine was straight, the chill reaching everyone in the room, piercing their hearts. She stood there, listening to the sobs around her, then suddenly turned and walked out.

Startled by the cries, Tianku rushed over and met Yinsha face-to-face, his eyes filled with sorrow. “Sister, Brother Jieshen… he…” he choked on his words.

“He’s fine. He’s gone,” Yinsha replied, her expression and tone eerily calm. This tranquility unnerved everyone. She gently stroked Tianku’s head, her voice soft: “Xiaotian, help me take Brother Jieshen somewhere, give him a proper burial.”

“Alright. But Sister, why won’t you send him off yourself?”

“I need to kill some people. Otherwise, how can there be a proper memorial?” Yinsha withdrew her hand, her voice icy.

Tianku was shocked. “Sister, you’re mad! You’re no match for the Dragon King and his lot. You’ll die!”

Yinsha’s gaze was steady. “I won’t go after them. There are plenty of other wandering monks elsewhere. If I can’t kill them, there are other bald thieves to slay. I’ll just kill a few more, that’s all.”

“Are we not going back to Dog Hill?” Tianku, unable to stop her, offered Dog Hill as a last hope, but Yinsha shook her head. “Let it be.”

With that, she strode toward the cloud vessel outside.

“Sister…” Tianku called, wanting to chase after her, but Yinsha didn’t look back. “Take care of sending him off. I leave it to you!”

“Sister… alright!” Tianku stopped, wiped his tears, and nodded heavily. “I’ll do it. But you must come back!”

Yinsha nodded, moving like the wind. At the same time, her retainers and three disciples seemed to understand, rushing out to board the vessel with her. Amidst the roaring winds, the Bat Cloud Vessel, battered and weary, struggled westward toward the Buddhist kingdoms.

Tianku gazed at the sky, tears streaming down his face, not knowing this was his last farewell to his sister. From then until his death, he never saw her again, only hearing rumors of monks slain in the west. Whenever he searched, she vanished anew…

It went on for years, persisting even as Tianku grew old and gray. Long after his death, several countries in the west were decimated of monks, one ruled by three celestial masters who had ascended.

That nation was called Chechi.

And Yinsha, transformed into something else, endured—never ceasing…

※

During his remaining days in Liyang, Six Ugly did not idle. He tried every method, and finally understood—if only roughly—the use and purpose of the new Jiawu Pot Divine Armament Cauldron found in the Demon Refining Pot.

Divine Armament Cauldron: as its name suggests, it forges divine armor and weapons.

Unlike the previous layers, which refined body-tempering elixirs and cultivation pills, the Divine Armament Cauldron did not create weapons from nothing. Instead, existing weapons were placed inside for refinement—what later generations would call evolution or upgrading—transforming them into sharper weapons and armor of the same type.

To illustrate: placing an original firelock into the cauldron, with demon cores and various materials, could evolve it into a muzzle-loading matchlock, then a flintlock, followed by percussion cap guns, fire cap guns, breechloaders, Martini single-shot rifles, Mausers… progressing step by step to modern rifles.

This is the cauldron’s power.

Six Ugly tried placing his weapons inside. The iron pole weapon was already of top grade and could not be refined further; the cauldron declared it could not evolve. But when he put in a regular hand crossbow, it required demon cores and materials to proceed.

Demon cores and materials are essential for the cauldron to upgrade weapons.

Six Ugly was intrigued. Perhaps due to differences between ancient and modern times, though he was skilled with clubs, he wanted a ranged weapon—like a strong bow or crossbow—so he had stored the Eight Bull Crossbow and hand crossbow in the pot’s realm. But as his opponents grew stronger, these weapons became inadequate in speed and power. The cauldron’s arrival was the perfect solution.

All he needed was to upgrade the hand crossbow—what could be easier?

By his reckoning, demon cores were easy to acquire, as those used for cloud vessels could be bought at the market. But refined steel was hard to find; standard weapon materials were too ordinary for the cauldron, which was his biggest hurdle.

To use the cauldron, he needed elite weapons and armor to smelt, but knew little about Liyang and its hidden caches.

While Six Ugly pondered this, the city’s case finally reached a conclusion.

Old Cat’s corpse was handed over to the county bailiff by Zuogeng, who reported the case. No one knew how the bailiff judged its truth, but after two days, someone summoned Zuogeng. When he returned, he brought a wagonload of rewards: hemp cloth coins, pork, wine—enough to fill a small cart.

Whether on the bailiff’s orders or Zuogeng’s own wisdom, he handed everything to Six Ugly, declaring, “Friends, for solving the case, the bailiff has rewarded us. Seek-thieves will decide all, distribute the rewards!”

Six Ugly accepted, dividing cloth and food among the constables, and money too, but also prepared shares for Zuogeng and the watch chief Ji Xiang. The two refused at first, but eventually accepted, their respect for Dupu rising.

Finally, Dupu pointed to the pork and wine, asking Ji Xiang to prepare a feast for everyone, drawing much praise.

That night, though the food was simple boiled pork and cloudy wine, it was a rare treat for the watchhouse. The guests were merry, and Six Ugly, half drunk, probed for information about city weapons. Zuogeng and Renfu knew the armory well.

Zuogeng had once been a patrolman guarding the armory; Renfu, even better, had moved weapons in and out several times, and knew more, though his drunken boasts were not entirely reliable.

Liyang was not a frontier city, with few regular troops, but, like other cities, it kept a sizable armory. Besides spears, swords, and shields, it stored special items for dealing with monsters, though what exactly the watchmen did not know.

But as long as it existed, it was excellent news.