Chapter Forty-Seven: The Grudge is Set

The great procession moved forward in grand, sweeping strides, taking in every scene within the Valley Phantom Sect along the way. Cries of astonishment and exclamations echoed from the crowd, mostly from disciples of smaller sects, including Shen Wan himself.

To Shen Wan, the architecture of the Owe Profound Sect was already extravagant, but compared to the Valley Phantom Sect, it was like a child’s play. The Ten Prisons Tower, the tallest structure in Owe Profound Sect, paled in comparison to the towering edifices here.

On the left, a colossal tree bore hundreds of pavilions hanging from its branches. On the right, a tower spanning a hundred acres seemed sculpted from a single enormous piece of jade. Ahead, tiered courtyards exuded ancient charm, wrapped in clouds and mist, radiating an ethereal aura. Behind lay a vast collection of skulls…

Shen Wan, mingling within the crowd, bobbed his little head about like a rattle, scanning eagerly left and right, as if missing even a single sight would leave him with lifelong regret.

Finally, a young man to his right could no longer contain himself. “Hey, little brother, which sect are you from? How did you slip into our group?” With that, all eyes turned to Shen Wan. Until now, everyone had been admiring the scenery; suddenly reminded, they realized an outsider had infiltrated their ranks.

Among the ethereal-robed disciples of the Empty Spirit Sect, Shen Wan’s black attire stood out conspicuously. Naturally, he wouldn’t admit to sneaking in; to avoid being discovered by his own, he had deliberately kept several dozen meters away from his fellow Owe Profound Sect disciples.

Facing the unfriendly stares, Shen Wan simply cleared his throat. “Mind your own business.”

“I…” The disciples of the Empty Spirit Sect blushed with indignation at this blatant provocation.

The road was the Valley Phantom Sect’s, the sect was the Valley Phantom Sect’s, and Shen Wan marched with head held high, as if these people were the intruders in his own group.

Yet, just as Shen Wan looked down his nose at everyone, a disciple at the front of the Empty Spirit Sect squinted, slowing his pace. This was Zhang Haoyun, senior brother and leader of the group.

Noticing the commotion behind him, he realized an outsider had slipped into their midst. As the senior brother, his actions were far more cautious than ordinary disciples, so instead of acting rashly, he observed Shen Wan carefully.

Upon discovering Shen Wan had no cultivation whatsoever, Zhang Haoyun decided it was time to teach him a lesson.

He retreated until he was beside Shen Wan, then subtly signaled to the disciples behind. They moved aside, creating a gap behind Shen Wan.

Zhang Haoyun gathered his spiritual energy, bent his arm, and jabbed Shen Wan hard in the chest. “Get out!” His voice was low but full of menace. He expected this blow to knock Shen Wan out of the group.

To his surprise, Shen Wan didn’t budge, while Zhang Haoyun, caught off guard by the rebound, stumbled and lost his footing, falling outwards.

“Hey? Hey? Hey?” Zhang Haoyun hadn’t realized he was the one about to fall, so he was totally unprepared.

And just as Shen Wan looked on in bafflement, a certain direction saw a group of people topple over like stalks of wheat pressed down in a field, forming a gaping hole amid the crowd.

“Damn, who’s pulling me?”

——

“Ah! You scoundrel!”

“Why are you grabbing me? Get off!”

“Who is it? Give me back my belt!”

“No! No! Stay away from me!”

A burst of chaotic shouting spread through the crowd. Disciples managing order for the Valley Phantom Sect noticed the disturbance and hurried over.

“What are you all doing? What’s going on here?” The Valley Phantom Sect disciple was bewildered, expecting a brawl, only to find a group sprawled on the ground.

The fallen disciples quickly scrambled up, barely dusting themselves off, apologizing profusely before returning to their places. If they were seen as causing trouble, they could be thrown out.

The Empty Spirit Sect disciples did the same; though seething inside, none dared act out.

Seeing it was just an accident, order was swiftly restored. After a brief warning, the Valley Phantom Sect disciple left.

Shen Wan felt a chill run down his spine. Looking around, dozens of eyes were fixed fiercely on him, especially Zhang Haoyun, whose face twisted like a crooked eggplant, eyes flashing coldly and full of rage.

“Uh…” If looks could kill, Shen Wan wouldn’t survive another breath.

This feud was set.

After the commotion, calm returned; the Empty Spirit Sect side was even quieter than before.

At last, after more than an hour’s journey, the group reached their final destination—the rear mountain of the Valley Phantom Sect, at the front gates of the ancient ruins.

When the Yun Clan ancestor discovered the burial grounds of the Giant God Tribe, he founded the Valley Phantom Sect on the spot, much like Tian Xuanzi had done elsewhere.

Two massive mountains flanked either side, adorned with dozens of enormous skulls.

The skulls, long since petrified, gave off an air of majesty.

Between these skull-laden peaks lay the entrance to the ancient ruins.

Shen Wan pounded his legs, having no time to marvel at the skulls; his mind grumbled on for hundreds of thousands of words.

A lousy sect—just walking from the grand plaza to the rear mountain took over two hours. Think of the tourist attractions on Earth; they’d at least provide a sightseeing cart. So humane.

But here? These people were anything but humane!

Above, clouds shimmered in vibrant hues, the auspicious aura of the Seven-colored Ancient Luck Bird still lingering.

Now, the great group halted, all falling silent.

Perhaps awed by the sight, their eyes glittered, each preparing for action.

Ahead, the entrance was shrouded by a massive curtain of light—said to be the work of the Valley’s foremost master of forbidden arts, Grandmaster Lun Ye. The Valley Phantom Sect had paid dearly for this.

Disciples from the Valley’s four major sects stood at the front, directed by Valley Phantom Sect disciples to produce jade tokens, then entered the light curtain one by one.

The procession moved again.

Shen Wan lingered among the Empty Spirit Sect disciples, bored.

He rose on tiptoe, trying to peer ahead, but saw nothing but a sea of heads.

“Hey, what’s going on up front? Why aren’t we moving?” He nudged a nearby disciple with his elbow, asking offhandedly.

——

He expected the person to answer, but instead received only a cold snort.

“Hmph!” Zhang Haoyun scowled, shooting a disdainful glance at Shen Wan, full of contempt.

Shen Wan was taken aback, turning to realize he was standing next to that fierce, twisted eggplant.

Awkward…

He shut his mouth again, feeling utterly out of place.

And so, time flowed like water, passing swiftly as the snail-paced group crept forward.

At last, as the main group halted, they reached the entrance of the ruins.

From afar, Shen Wan hadn’t seen clearly, but now, standing beneath the skulls, he could finally observe these enormous craniums.

Dozens hung in staggered rows on the cliffs. Though mere skulls, they seemed to express emotion—anger, sorrow, excitement, indifference.

Shen Wan stared, a sense of emptiness rising in his mind.

Perhaps an illusion, but the skulls seemed to slowly turn. When their faces all aligned toward him, a chill surged through his body.

The pitch-black eye sockets bore into him, sudden and unbidden.

His neck shrank, back prickling with cold sweat, which trickled out unguarded.

He felt exposed, like a naked white mouse before these skulls, with no secrets left.

His greatest secret was being “spiritless,” yet why did he feel so transparent?

Instinctively, he stepped back half a pace, his back drenched in sweat, hair on end. He looked between the peaks, where a murky darkness lingered.

Vaguely, he sensed a giant hand beckoning him with a crooked finger.

Behind the finger, a gaping maw with jagged fangs dripped foul slime, waiting sinisterly for his entry.

Clack, clack, clack…

His teeth chattered reflexively.

Shen Wan swallowed hard; he no longer wanted to enter.

With retreat on his mind, he considered leaving.

There were fewer than a hundred people ahead, and the entrance was wide enough for dozens to enter at once; as groups vanished into the darkness, the Empty Spirit Sect disciples finally reached the entrance.

They produced their jade tokens and began merging into the light curtain.

Shen Wan tried to escape, but with thousands behind him, there was no way to squeeze out.

His unmoving steps blocked the disciples behind, who, frustrated to see their peers disappear into the light, impatiently shoved him forward.

Unprepared, Shen Wan stumbled, pitching headlong into the entrance like a dog eating dirt.

“Finished, finished!”

This must be the classic case of a lamb entering a tiger’s den.

To Shen Wan, the disgusting maw felt all too real; he imagined himself sprawled on its massive tongue.

Uh…

Speaking of tongues, it felt rather soft.

He cracked open his eyes; instead of darkness, he saw a delicate, handsome face.

Yun Yi stared blankly at Shen Wan, while his own chest was pressed by two mischievous hands.