Guide to the Rebirth of the Evil Woman in the Immortal Realm - Chapter 44

The wind whistled through the silver forest.

Within the Glazed Treasure Hall, a single figure clad in battle armor stood alone. No lamps were lit in this great hall; the reflected light from the crystalline vessels was enough to illuminate the entire palace. Even the floors were made of glazed glass, mirroring the High God’s face and casting his ruthless features in a deathly pallor, like a vengeful ghost that had been dead for ten million years.

Like Yan Dan, Jie Fanyin kept a small shrine in his temple. Inside the shrine, there was no divine statue, only a single candle.

Jie Fanyin loosened his grip, letting the items he had just gathered from the Lotus Pond fall to the floor. He ignored them, turning instead toward the candle flame that flickered slightly despite the lack of wind. His candle was exceptionally bright, nearly illuminating the entire palace with its warm glow as melted wax slid down the side of the candle.

Jie Fanyin reached out, shielding the swaying flame with his palm. It had never been like this before. A deathly gray hue filled his pupils. He remained silent, staring blankly at the dark shrine.

What was affecting his incense offerings?

The moment he realized something was wrong, his eyeballs began to roll frantically within their sockets. The Glazed Treasure Hall was usually empty of anyone but himself. He covered one eye that nearly burst from its socket as blood streamed down his face. His expression remained unchanged, as if he were long accustomed to this. He leaned down to pick up the fallen lotus leaves.

The lotus leaves released a blood-colored spiritual energy into his palm. Jie Fanyin’s hands trembled slightly as he absorbed the energy into his body. Once drained, the leaves were reduced to pale green skins in his hand before suddenly turning into a pool of warm blood.

The candlelight dimmed further. Jie Fanyin turned his head slowly, blood dripping from his palm and staining his armor.

Why? He lowered his hands, staring at his palms covered in his own blood and that of the Lotus Mother. Why did it not work this time?

He stumbled forward a few steps, cupping the flame in his bloody hands. He drew closer and closer until the eternal tongue of fire, destined to burn until his very soul dissipated, licked at his failing eyes. He widened his gaze, letting out a garbled sound from his throat as if someone were stirring his internal organs. He nearly fainted from the sensation.

“Tai Yin.”

The flame danced in his pupils. Jie Fanyin suddenly remembered something. He reached out and pressed a mechanism on the shrine, revealing a hidden compartment containing a mutilated, tortured statue.

He seemed to feel fear, yet he also displayed a secret sense of triumph. He gripped the statue, looking at the small line of text carved near the statue’s feet: Taiyin Wu Zhen.

So it was this place, Jie Fanyin thought. So it was you.

You have been dead for so many years. Why will you not rest? Why is there still someone who remembers you?

He reached toward the candle flame, extracting a wisp of divine sense. He let it drift with the wind, sinking into the flickering light.

“A wire?” Ji Ting asked. “What wire?”

Shen Fuxin gazed toward Chu Tian in the crowd. The wire hanging around his neck was a strange shade of red. If she had to describe it, it looked similar to the lines of spiritual power she had seen before her breakthrough. Moments ago, there had been nothing on Chu Tian, but after only a few breaths, a wire had truly appeared on his neck. The wire was slowly materializing.

Chu Tian’s head had been hanging low before, but now his toes were beginning to point downward.

Amidst the bustling divine festival, no one could see the slender silk thread tightening around the neck of the Fourth Prince of Taiyin. The thread extended upward, perhaps descending from the heavens themselves. Like a crimson spiderweb catching its prey, it strangled Chu Tian until he was immobilized. His eyes rolled dully, eventually fixing on Shen Fuxin and her companions.

His face was forward, but his eyes were locked onto them. He struggled to move his mouth, forming a silent plea.

Save… save…

Shen Fuxin said, “Chu Tian is being strangled to death.”

Despite her words, she made no move to help. Her face clearly signaled that his death was his own business and had nothing to do with her. Seeing this, a flicker of resentment and the dying fire of rage ignited in Chu Tian’s eyes. His lips twitched. The final flash of his life’s memories was not of Empress Ruwen, nor his titular sisters, nor his biological parents. It was the image of the War God statue being snatched and smashed by palace servants.

War God, show your spirit and save me, Chu Tian wailed silently in despair. It must be Empress Ruwen and the others who cannot tolerate me. They must have designed this hidden weapon to kill me in front of everyone! What a treacherous heart, what a wicked method. If the War God has a spirit in heaven, she will surely act.

Act… save… me…

Click.

The crimson silk thread vanished.

Chu Tian, who had appeared deathly a moment ago, suddenly stood up straight. His expression was blank. He reached out to hold his twisted neck and snapped it back into place with a sickening crack.

This mortal body was filled with filth; it was heavy, dirty, and nauseating. Jie Fanyin exhaled as he straightened Chu Tian’s head, which he had just strangled to the point of breaking with his spiritual intent.

I will use this for the time being.

He surveyed the surroundings. It seemed a festival was being held. He had heard that the mortal realm held ceremonies for the High Gods of the God Realm. Sensing a gaze, Jie Fanyin slowly turned his head. He saw a pair of pale eyes staring intently at him.

Black hair, green robes, and pupils as pale as the waters of a sunlit lotus pond, faintly reflecting the green of lotus leaves. Having spent a long time in the God Realm, Jie Fanyin had seen many immortals. Compared to them, this person’s appearance seemed ordinary. However, what caused a strange sensation in his heart was those very eyes.

There was no compassion or great love in those eyes. Instead, they held a hint of mockery, like someone watching a fire from the opposite shore, and a hidden, unexpressed hatred.

Jie Fanyin had seen another pair of eyes like this. They were also pale, but a light pink. They looked nothing like the person currently staring at him. Yet, Jie Fanyin recognized the identical hatred in their gaze: a malicious joy that wished for everyone to die.

He moved his body slightly, intending to approach Shen Fuxin, when he heard a commotion from the altar. In an instant, everyone looked up toward Empress Ruwen. A massive divine statue was being pushed out on a wooden cart. It was a goddess statue. Her left hand held a flower to her chest, while her right hand held a long divine sword. Her hair was tied up, and she wore a magnificent jade robe clearly meant for ritual. Strangely, however, her face had no features.

Jie Fanyin looked up at the statue, and a feeling of disgust surged from deep within his body. The joints of his borrowed form began to itch and ache as if they were about to break apart, forcing him to scratch his elbows incessantly.

“Her name is Wu Zhen,” Empress Ruwen addressed the people of Taiyin. “She is the true War God who has protected Taiyin throughout history.”

News had already spread across Taiyin like it had wings. Countless people had chosen to stop offering incense to Jie Fanyin, but because they lacked a statue of Wu Zhen, they had not known how to worship her. The citizens cheered beneath the altar, though some shouted, “Why does the War God Wu Zhen have no face?”

“The reference for this statue comes from the murals in the tomb of Empress Piaojing from thirty thousand years ago,” Chu Huaizhuang explained after receiving a nod from Empress Ruwen. “The War God Wu Zhen was born in Taiyin, grew up in Taiyin, and protected Taiyin for millions of years. For some reason, no statue preserving her true appearance was ever left behind.”

Ji Ting stood in the crowd, looking up at the newly carved statue like everyone else.

“We will leave this faceless image upon the altar. All citizens of Taiyin may come here to pay their respects,” Chu Huaizhuang continued. “Whatever image of the War God Wu Zhen we hold in our hearts, that is what she looks like. As long as the intent to revere her exists, her divine power exists.”

As they cheered, a voice suddenly rang out, sounding horribly out of place.

“Jie Fanyin is the true War God,” Chu Tian’s lips moved. “Where have you taken Jie Fanyin?”

Ji Ting blinked softly, looking at the Chu Tian who had stepped forward.

“The wire on his neck disappeared,” Shen Fuxin observed, studying him. “His complexion has returned to normal as well.”

“The wire is gone, but the strangulation mark remains,” Ji Ting said gently. “I cannot see the wire, but I can see the mark left by the wire you described. With a mark that deep, his head should have fallen off under normal circumstances, but it has not. Given that Chu Tian is an ordinary human and not a cultivator…”

Shen Sha added, “Then he should be dead. So why can he stand there perfectly fine now?”

The three of them looked up together. The original Chu Tian had been cautious and always kept his head lowered. Now, he dared to stand tall under the gaze of thousands and publicly challenge Empress Ruwen, the person he feared most.

Shen Fuxin said with disgust, “Could it be that some foul thing has possessed him?”

At that moment, the Chu Tian who should have been dead took another step forward. He said coldly, “You are violating the will of our ancestors!”

Jie Fanyin, hiding inside the skin of the corpse, heard everything clearly. After he spoke, the mortals behind him broke into a flurry of hushed discussions. He needed incense and the offerings of these mortals. If these ants could wake up, it would be for the best. If they could not, then he…

Empress Ruwen looked down at her nephew, who seemingly no longer knew his place. She still held the ritual War God sword. Seeing Chu Tian approaching step by step, a flash of disgust crossed her eyes. She did not retreat. Because he was the Fourth Prince, the guards did not draw their weapons to kill him in front of the citizens. They simply surrounded him, using their bodies to block his path.

“Let him come,” she said. “Whatever needs to be said, let it be said in full today.”

Jie Fanyin had only injected a wisp of divine sense into this body; his divine power was not present. But he did not care. He had lived in luxury and power for thirty thousand years. Even many High Gods in the God Realm dared not defy his will. Jie Fanyin pressed forward, walking toward Empress Ruwen. “Wu Zhen is the true false god. You…”

Amidst the gasps of the crowd, Empress Ruwen did not say another word. She simply raised the long sword high, just as she had at the start of the festival. The tip of the sword reached above her head and then suddenly fell, severing his neck!

The head flew through the air with an expression of shock, rolling until it came to a stop at the feet of the Wu Zhen statue.

The tip of Empress Ruwen’s sword was still dripping blood. This time, as she sat firmly upon her throne, there were no longer any whispers criticizing her for slaughtering her own kin. She calmly lowered the War God sword. “Taiyin is for women.”

Ji Ting was lost in thought amidst the deafening cheers. She carefully studied Chu Tian’s head, whose eyes remained open in death. She felt that this lingering sense of nausea was somewhat familiar. It seemed as if something had noticed the quiet changes occurring in the mortal realm. She recalled the words Chu Tian spoke before his death and pursed her lips.

Whose interests were threatened by the return of Wu Zhen? The answer was beyond doubt. Should I say he is perceptive or unperceptive? Ji Ting thought.

Jie Fanyin.