Chapter 2043: The Strange Ghost Mountain

Under the cover of night, Guishan was shrouded in total darkness, with no light to be seen. The entire mountain was enveloped by the night, and if you listened closely, you could hear the wails of fierce ghosts. This place truly lived up to its name as Guishan.

Yechen and his two companions continued venturing deeper.

After the incident with the ancient well, Yangxuan and Shangguanjiu had become much more cautious. They strictly avoided looking at anything Yechen told them not to, and they wouldn't touch anything he forbade. In this eerie place, Yechen, with his knowledge of mystical arts, had far more experience than they did. To stay alive, they had to follow his lead.

As they walked, they suddenly heard the sound of flowing water.

Upon closer inspection, they discovered a river blocking their path. Fortunately, there was a wooden bridge spanning it.

What was strange was that the river water was black and emitted a foul, fishy odor.

Only then did Yechen open his eyes. He paused for a couple of seconds before stepping onto the bridge first, calmly glancing at the water. He could clearly see evil spirits lurking in the river, baring their fangs at him with grotesque grins. One wrong move, and he would be dragged under.

"This river is even more sinister than that well!" Yangxuan exclaimed.

"How about I send you down for a bath?" Shangguanjiu teased.

"You go first—I wouldn't dare," Yangxuan replied, then followed Yechen onto the bridge. He couldn't help but shiver as he walked, for the water felt incredibly cold. Even with his deep inner energy, he found it chillingly ominous, as if a pair of eyes in the river were staring at him, cold and desolate.

Thankfully, they crossed the bridge without any mishaps.

"Hey? Why is the river water black?" A voice of surprise came from behind.

Turning back, they saw a group of people who had come to explore Guishan as a team. They had arrived a bit later and were now catching up. Seeing the color of the water, they were all astonished. One particularly curious person stepped forward, squatted by the riverbank, and scooped up some water with his hand.

In the next instant, tragedy struck. As the person tried to stand and leave, a hand shot out from the river, grabbing his ankle. He toppled over and was instantly pulled into the water.

"This..." The others turned pale at the sight.

"Save me!" the person screamed in terror, his eyes wide with fear as he thrashed in the river, begging his companions for help.

But everyone else was too frightened to act and started backing away.

The person despaired, thrashing for a while before sinking to the bottom. He never resurfaced—not even his body or bones remained.

On the other side of the bridge, Yangxuan and Shangguanjiu both cleared their throats.

If they hadn't seen it with their own eyes, they wouldn't have believed such a sinister thing could happen. A martial arts expert had been swallowed up just like that. It was a good thing they hadn't gone down for a bath earlier, or they would have met a gruesome end.

Yechen didn't even turn his head, his expression unchanged.

As for the people behind, a few had already been scared off. The ones who remained had some courage and, after hesitating, hurried onto the bridge, avoiding any glance at the river.

Once they crossed, they all ran faster than rabbits, hoping to catch up with Yechen and his group for safety. But Yechen and the others were already out of sight.

With no other choice, the group steeled themselves and pressed on into the depths.

Meanwhile, Yechen and his companions had entered a winding path that led into the shadows.

"There's a bloody scent," Yangxuan warned at some point.

Sure enough, before long, they came upon a corpse lying diagonally beside the path. The body showed no visible wounds, but blood streamed from all seven orifices, and the face was twisted in agony. The eyes were still wide open, bulging with lingering terror.

"That's the Sixth Elder of Tianshan Sect," Shangguanjiu said, recognizing the identity.

"Most likely killed by a fierce ghost," Yangxuan murmured.

Yechen said nothing, just glanced at the body and continued walking.

The rest of the way grew even more gruesome.

Along the mountain path, they encountered corpses every so often, strewn about in various positions. Each one had died horribly, with blood from the seven orifices and eyes frozen in death.

Yangxuan and Shangguanjiu couldn't help but gasp as they looked. Most of the dead were renowned martial arts experts, people they recognized, all once famous figures in the martial world. They hadn't fallen in battles among humans but had met their end in Guishan.

They began to understand that a place like Guishan wasn't somewhere brute strength alone could survive. These martial arts masters were grim examples. Even they themselves could end up the same if they weren't careful.

This proved just how crucial knowledge of mystical arts was—more useful than martial skills in a pinch.

That night, Guishan was far from quiet. Screams echoed from all directions, accompanied by the cackling of evil spirits and the wails of fierce ghosts, like a scene straight from hell.

Yechen remained composed, but Yangxuan and the others grew uneasy.

They hadn't realized until coming here just how deadly Guishan was—who knew how many had perished.

Quietly, dawn approached.

Yet, deep in Guishan, it remained eerily dim, as if shrouded by a dark veil. Even in daylight, it felt like dusk, oppressively heavy.

As they went along, the three entered a small village.

Yes, a small village nestled in Guishan.

The village wasn't large, with houses built from stacked stones, many of them collapsed. The stone paths underfoot were cracked, and there were millstones and water jars scattered about. Under the eaves, hoes and iron shovels stood, but the village was deserted, silent and empty.

"Did people used to live here?" Shangguanjiu asked as they walked, taking in the surroundings.

"Living in Guishan— who'd be able to sleep?" Yangxuan sighed, then shivered involuntarily.

Yechen stayed calm as ever. Looking at the ruined village, he could guess a thing or two. In ancient times, this Guishan hadn't been so sinister. It must have been the arrival of some mysterious force that changed everything, draining the vegetation dry and dooming the local villagers.

Thinking of that mysterious force, he tilted his head up to the sky, tracing the flow of spiritual energy being drawn in.

All along, he had been using those faint traces of spiritual energy to guide their direction. The source of the energy gathering had to be where Guiyu Cheng was located, and finding Guiyu Cheng would lead them to the mysterious village.

At that moment, he felt a bit uncertain.

It was just too mysterious—Guishan could leave hundreds of miles barren and steal spiritual energy from thousands of miles away. How terrifying must Guiyu Cheng be? As a mere mortal, he had to be wary, especially without any powers.

"Are you crazy? Why are you pulling me?" Shangguanjiu suddenly snapped at Yangxuan.

"Are you blind? Who the hell is pulling you?" Yangxuan shot back, just as irritated.

Yechen glanced over and smiled without a word, then passed through the village and continued deeper.

Behind him, Yangxuan and Shangguanjiu grew restless, one with a dark expression, the other equally grim, constantly on the verge of fighting. If they weren't in Guishan, they might have already come to blows.

"You jerk, did you just kick me?"

"Are you nuts? Which eye saw me kick you?"

"Come on, walk in front of me."

As they went, the two bickered nonstop, and along the way, they kept getting kicked for no reason.

They eventually reached a pond, and Yechen could no longer tolerate it. After listening to their squabbling, his ears were buzzing. He flicked his hand, dabbing a few drops of cow tears into Yangxuan and Shangguanjiu's eyes.

The two rubbed their eyes and, when they opened them again, both recoiled as if they'd seen a ghost.

In fact, they had. The cow tears had lifted the veil between yin and yang, allowing them to see spirits.

Right in front of them floated a mischievous ghost with a pointed face and beady eyes, cackling away.

The two exchanged glances and instantly understood. It was this little ghost causing all the trouble, following them and kicking them out of nowhere, trying to stir up conflict. They had nearly fought because of it. Without the cow tears from Yechen, they would still be clueless.

"You little troublemaking ghost, you're asking for it!" they both shouted, one drawing a knife and the other a sword, lunging at the ghost.

The ghost wasn't afraid at first, but seeing their weapons glinting with black dog blood, it panicked and fled in an instant.

Yangxuan and Shangguanjiu didn't chase it, but they were furious. As top martial arts experts, ranked second and third, to be toyed with by a mere ghost was humiliating.

When they returned, both glared at Yechen, their faces dark. "You knew all along?"

"Of course," Yechen replied casually, pulling out his wine flask and sipping leisurely. As a cultivator, even stripped of his powers, his insight remained sharp— no demon or ghost could escape his notice.

The two fell silent, taking deep breaths to suppress their urge to curse. You sneaky bastard, you did that on purpose.

"Enough fooling around—let's get back to business," Yechen said, tossing aside the flask and drawing his peach wood sword.

With that, he stepped into the pond.

The moment he entered, the water grew turbulent. Hideous evil spirits crawled out, clawing and snarling, intent on devouring him.

Yechen swung his sword, cutting down a swarm of them.

But more emerged, their numbers enough to make one's scalp tingle.

Seeing this, Yangxuan and Shangguanjiu jumped in as well, knowing they had to fight through to reach the depths. Their weapons, coated in black dog blood, were ineffective against humans but deadly to evil spirits, felling them in droves.

"One sword saint down, two sword saints down!"

Amusingly, as they battled, the two kept shouting. Every time they struck down an evil spirit, they yelled as if avenging themselves on Yechen, clearly taking out their frustrations.

Yechen couldn't help but twitch at their words. What a grudge—they were even counting by the head now.

Ignoring his reaction, Yangxuan and Shangguanjiu focused on the fight, their pent-up anger fueling an impressive performance.

The three worked together seamlessly, with Yechen leading the charge and the other two guarding his flanks, forcefully breaking through to the other side.

Once on the bank, the pond returned to calm, as if nothing had happened.

Yangxuan and Shangguanjiu sighed again. Who would have thought such an ordinary-looking pond could be so dangerous? Any martial arts expert venturing in without guidance from a mystical expert would meet their end here.

Though they sighed, they had enjoyed the fight immensely.

Compared to them, Yechen was silent, gripping his peach wood sword, his eyes narrowed as he gazed into the depths, his brows furrowed as if peering through the mountains at some dreadful presence.

"Tianmo," he muttered, his voice laced with coldness.