I Failed to Reform the Protagonist [Transmigration] - Chapter 19

The Ghost Realm lay at the northern tip of the Canghua Continent, bordering Yunxiao. Flying on a sword, it was a journey of ten thousand miles, but a round trip within a single day was still feasible.

Traveling north, one crossed the deathly stillness of the Samsara Mountains to find a great river cutting off the path. The river was named Wangchuan, and its waters were a glassy green. Unlike the legends, the waters of the Ghost Realm’s Wangchuan didn’t wash away past memories; it was just ordinary water tainted by a hint of corpse energy, smelling of a strange, cloying fragrance that wasn’t quite a perfume.

Pei Jing had been to the Ghost Realm once before.

He had come with Ji Wuduan, Yu Qinglian, and the others. Back then, they had just emerged from the Jingtian Academy, ending five years of inhumanly rigorous cultivation. After escaping the “old ancestor’s” demonic clutches, they practically wanted to set off firecrackers to celebrate their freedom. Having suppressed their natures for so long, they were itching for action upon returning to the world, so the dozen or so of them made a six-month pact—to travel together and slay demons. To put it bluntly, they were just looking for small monsters to hit to blow off some steam.

The ghosts and demons that fell into their hands during that time were truly unlucky for eight lifetimes. In half a year, a cultivator could step across ten thousand miles of rivers and mountains.

On one of those occasions, they passed through the Ghost Realm.

Seeing the bizarre peaks of the Samsara Mountains and the murky green waters of the Wangchuan for the first time, Pei Jing was quite interested. After asking the names of the mountain and the river, he couldn’t stop laughing and pointing.

“Why don’t you build a bridge? Then plant some flowers by the river. You wouldn’t even have to think of names—call the bridge ‘Naihe’ and the flowers ‘Equinox.’ You live in a city of the living, yet you mimic the underworld in every way. Have you stayed with the dead so long that you think you’re dead too?”

As the Young Lord of the Ghost Realm, Ji Wuduan wasn’t particularly provoked; a few years in the Jingtian Academy had allowed him to figure Pei Jing out. Without even changing his expression, he countered coldly, “You wear white from head to toe every single day, yet I don’t see anyone dying around you.”

Pei Jing only smiled and said, “Isn’t it because I’ve foreseen that you’ll definitely lose to me in the Heaven-Asking Trial fifty years from now? I’m just wearing mourning clothes for your failure in advance.”

Ji Wuduan ground his teeth. “You just wait.”

“I’m waiting.”

Yu Qinglian, who was busy admiring her own reflection in the Wangchuan water, simply rolled her eyes. “That’s not how you use the term ‘wearing mourning clothes.’ How uncultured.”

In his youth, Pei Jing was truly the king of contrarians. He said radiantly, “You have the nerve to use ‘沉鱼落雁’ (sinking fish and dropping geese) to describe yourself, yet you’re lecturing me on idioms?”

Beside him, Chen Xu rushed forward to cover his mouth. “Alright, alright, stop talking.”

Yu Qinglian’s beautiful face instantly distorted. She stood up abruptly, her vivid pomegranate-red skirt brushing the green water, and drew her whip.

She roared, “Pei Yuzhi! Say that one more time!”

The moment the red whip hit the ground, the Wangchuan water erupted in massive waves.

Pei Jing swiped Chen Xu’s hand away, wanting to help her face reality, but someone beat him to it. The “good man” Wu Sheng stepped out as the usual peacemaker. “Stop fighting. Let’s cross the Wangchuan first. We haven’t even entered the Ghost City yet.”

Pei Jing gave Wu Sheng a smiling glance and said lazily, “Fine, I have to give you some face.” After all, Wu Sheng wasn’t like the other three, who constantly looked for ways to provoke him.

They crossed the Wangchuan through the air.

While flying, Feng Jin, who had been silent, suddenly said, “Are you really that confident about the Heaven-Asking Trial?”

Pei Jing tilted his head. The young Phoenix Emperor was looking at him with raised eyebrows, a hint of wariness in his dark gold eyes. Feng Jin had been competitive for a long time, always wanting to challenge him. Pei Jing blinked and smiled slightly. “It’s alright. Taking first place shouldn’t be a problem.”

Feng Jin gave a contemptuous laugh. “Talk is cheap.”

Pei Jing: “After all, I still have confidence in your strength.”

Feng Jin ground his teeth. “…What do you mean by that?”

Pei Jing looked back before the Ghost City gates, his black hair flying and his white robes elegant. The youth’s smile was full of confidence and spirit. He said, quite obnoxiously, “I’m saying, is it really meaningful for you to compare yourself to me all day? Can you recognize the gap already, little brother? Cultivate hard and strive for second place under heaven.”

Having said his piece, he bolted, fearing that the narrow-minded Feng Jin would explode like Yu Qinglian and start a fight. Pei Jing wasn’t afraid of a duel, but there were too many people here who found him annoying; if it turned into a group brawl, where would he go to seek justice?

Running to catch up with Chen Xu, Pei Jing peeked back. Feng Jin was indeed pale with rage, and the little red bird on his shoulder had its feathers puffed out. Luckily, he ran fast.

Chen Xu was truly exasperated and said sarcastically, “You’re so reckless. Aren’t you afraid the three of them will team up to beat you?”

Pei Jing was very confident. “Not afraid. I can take all three at once.”

Chen Xu sighed. “Feng Jin really had bad luck meeting you.”

Pei Jing twitched his lips. “As if I’m the one who provokes him first.”

Chen Xu: “He’s the new Emperor of the Demon Clan, pampered since childhood. It’s normal for him to be a bit arrogant.”

Pei Jing: “Is that his excuse for picking on me every day?”

Chen Xu was worried sick. “Haven’t you already taken your revenge? Let people off when you can.”

Pei Jing laughed lazily. “Why are you always speaking up for him? I think this kid Feng Jin just lacks hardship; his life has been too smooth. Helping the Demon Clan train their new Emperor is a good deed. Besides, with that arrogant and conceited temper, he really doesn’t look like an Emperor.”

Chen Xu: “Then what does he look like?”

Pei Jing: “Like a little brother.”

Chen Xu: “…” Although he didn’t quite understand, he knew it definitely wasn’t a compliment.

Revisiting the old place, the scenery remained, and the memories of crossing the river together were vivid.

Wu Sheng, in his golden monk robes with white silk covering his eyes, spent most of his time with a smile, holding his staff and listening to them squabble. Yu Qinglian wore her whip wrapped around her smooth, white arm, gold bells on her feet making her a tinkling red wind as she walked. Ji Wuduan was wrapped in grey robes, emitting a gloomy aura like a frustrated mortal scholar. Feng Jin was like a wealthy idler, lazy and dressed flamboyantly, the bird on his shoulder always half-asleep. And Chen Xu was by his side, face full of worry, though no one knew what he was worrying about.

Flying over the Wangchuan on his sword, Pei Jing looked down thoughtfully. The green water flowed like time itself.

He couldn’t help but laugh. “I wonder if what those people in the Heaven Pavilion say is true. Have those guys really been cultivating in secret while I was in seclusion, improving by leaps and bounds?”

He suddenly recalled the setting of the original book, Slaying the Sword. This book wasn’t finished, and many subplots hadn’t been revealed. Because it was from the perspective of the protagonist Ji Wuyou, there wasn’t much description of Pei Yuzhi. But in the book, Pei Yuzhi seemed to have no connection with the other four of the “Five Legends,” and even Jingtian Academy wasn’t mentioned. In the end, when Pei Yuzhi fell to such a miserable and lowly state, no one came to his aid.

Pei Jing thought, If I fail to save the protagonist and Ji Wuyou still blackens and comes to kill me, I bet only Wu Sheng would come to save me. After thinking for a bit, he added, No, Yu Qinglian owes me a favor. That woman is very clear about her debts; she would come too. Ji Wuduan has something on him that I know about. If I threaten him a bit, I could get him to come. As for Feng Jin, though he’s a “little brother,” I don’t think he’d want me to die. After all, I am his life mentor.

After shamelessly analyzing it, Pei Jing counted on his fingers. “Not bad. With so many people there, maybe I won’t have to die so miserably.”

Wait.

Recalling the contents of the original book, Pei Jing shook his head, stuck between laughing and crying. “If things follow the plot, Ji Wuyou will have the cultivation of the Spirit Severing stage. Calling them over would be a literal delivery for a pentakill. Better not.”

Pei Jing’s smile faded. “It seems influencing the protagonist is more reasonable.” He would just wait for the protagonist to appear.

Crossing the Wangchuan River, he walked toward the Ghost City.

Two reliefs stood before the city—the Ox-Head and Horse-Face. Guarding the gate beneath the reliefs were two mortals, dressed in black and looking bored out of their minds. Guarding this place, they didn’t see a new face for months; they couldn’t muster any interest. The two youths were chatting idly.

The one on the right said, “I heard some news recently. It seems the City Lord is putting all his effort into arranging a marriage for the Young Lord.”

The one on the left widened his eyes. “What? A marriage?”

The one on the right sighed. “Yeah. It’s really strange. Are the thoughts of Nascent Soul big shots always this bizarre? The Young Lord just broke through to the Great Perfection of the Golden Core stage, just a step away from Nascent Soul. Shouldn’t he be prioritizing cultivation right now? Why is the City Lord meddling with his marriage?”

The one on the left hesitated for a moment and said quietly, “Have you… have you heard of a certain heterodox cultivation method?”

The one on the right froze and made eye contact; both saw a hint of weirdness in the other’s gaze.

They exclaimed in unison: “Dual Cultivation?!”

The one on the left rubbed his chin and said slowly, “I think it’s very likely. Moving from Golden Core to Nascent Soul is a watershed; who knows how many cultivators have died there. The Young Lord must have hit a bottleneck that only dual cultivation can resolve.”

The more they thought about it, the more it made sense. They swept away their previous fatigue and began to worry on behalf of their master. They went through the list of female cultivators in the world to see who would be lucky enough to become the Young Lady of the Ghost Realm.

“I think the eldest daughter of Elder Yin in our Ghost Realm isn’t bad.”

“Can you look a bit further? Regarding female cultivators, there are plenty of beauties in Yingzhou. Do you know Fairy Fusang? She and our Young Lord are a match made in heaven—rank five and rank four on the Heaven List, equal in strength, a handsome man and a beautiful woman!”

This cultivator was clearly an admirer of Yu Qinglian. Mentioning Fairy Fusang made him eloquent: “I was once lucky enough to see Fairy Fusang. She walked from the Wangchuan, in light red gauze with gold bells, her lips red and teeth white, eyes full of emotion. There is no one more beautiful in the world.”

“If she could become the Young Lady of the Ghost Realm, I’d be willing to die.”

At that moment, a clear, smiling voice of a young man came through: “If you say that to your Young Lord, he might actually let you die once.” If Ji Wuduan and Yu Qinglian were together, both Yingzhou and the Ghost Realm would probably never know peace again.

“Who’s there?” The two disciples jumped and turned around.

They saw a person walking out from the grey shadows of the Ghost Realm, where the sun never shone. Snow-white clothes without a speck of dust, a cold and handsome posture. With a jade crown on black hair and pupils like black lacquer, he had a trace of a faint, cold smile. Standing straight like a sword drawn from its scabbard, he stood between heaven and earth, bright and striking.

The cultivator on the left, who had just said there was no one more beautiful in the world, felt a bit of a sting in his face. He stared at the white-clad sword cultivator for a long time, only snapping out of it when his companion pinched him. He said dutifully, “Immortal, you need a pass to enter the Ghost City.”

Pei Jing smiled. “I know.” He held up the jade pendant he had tricked out of Ji Wuduan for the two to see. “Can I enter now?”

The two only felt the jade pendant was a bit strange, not like a normal pass. But the characters and the aura on it were definitely from the Ghost Realm. Scratching their heads, they let Pei Jing in. After watching his back disappear, the two were still puzzled.

“Don’t you feel that jade pendant was a bit familiar?”

“I think so too.”

Suddenly, a light bulb went off. The two turned to each other simultaneously, eyes full of shock, and shouted: “The Young Lord?!”

That jade pendant was exactly the same as the one the Young Lord wore year-round! And to be connected to the Young Lord—white-clad, carrying a sword, elegant and refined…

The two couldn’t speak, but a name flashed through their minds. A legendary person.

Yunxiao.

Pei Yuzhi.

He entered the main hall of the Ghost City without any obstacles. Ji Wuduan’s tastes were very strange; he liked skeletons and darkness. The walls of the main hall were covered in green ghost fire, making the eyes of the youth standing in the center of the hall look even more gloomy. In grey brocade robes, dressed as a scholar, he was abnormally thin, and his gaze was cold. Descriptions of him by outsiders were mostly a mix of awe and fear. After all, a single command could turn bones to ash; such a scene was chilling to think about.

As soon as Pei Jing entered the hall, he looked around and couldn’t help but sigh. “Your bizarre taste hasn’t changed in a hundred years.”

Ji Wuduan’s lips were pale, and he looked sickly. He mocked, “And your annoying personality hasn’t changed either.”

Pei Jing said, “That’s uncalled for. I came to bring you something good.”

Ji Wuduan wouldn’t believe him for a second. His pale, thin hand held a green lamp, his robes trailing on the floor as he walked into the palace.

Pei Jing remembered the conversation between the two disciples at the gate and felt a bit of gloating. “I heard your father is looking for a marriage partner for you?”

Ji Wuduan’s footsteps paused, his expression stiffening. “What does that have to do with you?”

Pei Jing said, “How does it not? On the day of your grand ceremony, you might even have to invite me.”

Ji Wuduan sneered. “Heh.”

Pei Jing knew he was probably a bit embarrassed. On the outside, Ji Wuduan looked gloomy and sickly, but at his core, he was as green and pure as a teenager.

They entered a room and sat opposite each other at a desk. A skull was used as a brush holder, filled with various precious brushes. Ji Wuduan looked like a mortal scholar, and his interests were similar—music, chess, calligraphy, painting, poetry, wine, and flowers; he had a scholarly air.

Following the topic of a Dao companion, Pei Jing teased, “Do you have a female cultivator in mind?”

Ji Wuduan looked a bit uncomfortable. “No.”

Pei Jing suddenly felt playful. “Then how about I introduce one to you? I just met her a few days ago.”

Ji Wuduan said, “Would you really be so kind?”

Pei Jing laughed. “Of course. We were classmates for five years, after all. It’s a female demon I found in the Yunlan Mountains. She has a graceful figure and is ever-changing.”

Ji Wuduan already had a bad feeling. “A demon?”

“Yes.” A demon with a thousand faces. Pei Jing changed his phrasing, adding meaningfully, “A thousand faces. She can be whatever look you like.”

“…” Ji Wuduan could guess Pei Jing wasn’t being serious. He flicked his sleeve, pulled a brush from the skull holder, and threw it directly at Pei Jing. Having been in the Ghost Realm, the brush had naturally attracted evil spirits over time. The bristles spread out, chirping in a small and quite cute way, pouncing toward Pei Jing’s face.

Pei Jing reached out to catch the brush and placed it on the table, stopping the jokes. “I won’t tease you anymore. I found some strange things in the Yunlan Mountains. I brought them here today to ask you about them.”

He opened his spatial ring and took out the blood Lingzhi, the infant head, and the mask. The three items were placed on the table; without looking closely, the bloody and eerie aura was already very apparent. As the Young Lord of the Ghost Realm, Ji Wuduan’s face showed a trace of surprise, letting out a soft “Eh?” His fingers toyed with the mask; the face was a sharp-chinned beauty with long lashes, her aura dignified. It felt icy to the touch.

Ji Wuduan held it up and stared at it for a long time, his face slowly darkening.

Pei Jing said, “You know it?”

Ji Wuduan put down the mask and said three words: “Thousand-Face Woman.”

Pei Jing said, “That’s a fitting name.”

Ji Wuduan said, “But this is only a part of the Thousand-Face Woman. Twenty years ago, she suddenly appeared in Tianya City, eating living people and committing all sorts of evils, making the surrounding sects feel endangered. Several Nascent Soul masters of the time teamed up to defeat her. After she died, her body split and her faces shrieked and fled. Although most were destroyed, a few escaped. I don’t know where they fled to cause trouble; this must be one of the faces that escaped back then.”

Pei Jing froze. “Tianya City?”

Tianya City was a city where villains gathered. Many desperate criminals in the cultivation world wandered there, including Nascent Soul powerhouses. It wasn’t as terrifying before, but in the last hundred years, it had become increasingly mysterious and dangerous. Even his Master had warned him not to provoke it lightly. This Thousand-Face Woman actually came from Tianya City?

A complex expression appeared on Ji Wuduan’s sickly face. “I only found out about this from my father. But she doesn’t exactly come from Tianya City. No one knows where she came from; she appeared out of thin air… and was very strong.”

True—it took several Nascent Soul masters to subdue her; she must have had at least half-Spirit Severing strength. In the current era, people who had reached the Spirit Severing stage were few and far between; within Jingtian Academy, there was still only one.

Ji Wuduan’s hand moved to the rotting head, his expression disgusted. “Every face of the Thousand-Face Woman can regrow a body by devouring living people. The faces of those eaten will surface and grow on her body. The blood Lingzhi raised from living infants is likely to stabilize her physical form. Using living infants to grow Lingzhi is an evil technique, and the method is extremely cruel. Ancient books record that the success rate is very low. Usually, such infants are not normal; there is a corresponding ‘Mother Gu’ (insect poison). Pouring the Gu insects into a woman’s belly, the insects will continuously lay eggs. What crawls out of the belly, however, looks like a human infant.”

Pei Jing’s eyes turned cold, and he let out a long breath. “I understand.”

Ji Wuduan said, “The Thousand-Face Woman’s strength is unfathomable. It’s fortunate you were the one to investigate this, otherwise…”

Pei Jing understood what he meant. For any other Golden Core cultivator, there would likely be no return. A single face likely had only a thousandth of the original’s power. Yet even a thousandth could evade his divine sense and hide; one could imagine how terrifying the main body must be.

Pei Jing asked again, “Did those Nascent Soul cultivators who destroyed her find the whereabouts of her other faces?”

“They were almost all eliminated.” Ji Wuduan’s fingers tapped on the table, and a deep emotion flickered in his grey-brown eyes. “Actually, what I just said wasn’t entirely correct. Those five Nascent Soul cultivators struggled to the end and were still no match for the Thousand-Face Woman… In the end, it was the City Lord of Tianya who stepped in to subdue her.”

Pei Jing: “The City Lord of Tianya?”

“Yes. The Thousand-Face Woman grew stronger as the battle went on. Seeing the cultivators were about to lose, a wind suddenly swept through the streets of Tianya City—cold and biting, like a snowstorm. Then the Thousand-Face Woman let out an extremely piercing scream, as if someone was gripping her throat. Her whole body collapsed to the ground, twisting. Blood flowed from every face; she was in unbearable pain and eventually self-destructed to flee. That wind came from the deepest part of Tianya City. There are many theories, but most believe it was the City Lord of Tianya.”

Pei Jing asked, “When did Tianya City get a City Lord?”

Ji Wuduan had spoken a lot and looked even weaker. He leaned back. “He’s always been there, just too mysterious and unknown to most. Word only spread in the last hundred years. Even in Tianya City, very few people know of his existence.”

Pei Jing thought: No wonder Master told me not to approach Tianya City. That City Lord was at least a Spirit Severing cultivator. The only person in the world who could be his enemy was probably the ancestor in Jingtian Academy who had already withdrawn from the world. But he was puzzled. “Since Tianya City is a gathering place for villains, its City Lord shouldn’t be a kind person. Why would he step in to help?”

Ji Wuduan shook his head. “He didn’t. The wind almost crushed the divine sense of one of the Nascent Soul cultivators. The City Lord’s intervention was likely just to deal with the Thousand-Face Woman; there was no intent to help.”

Pei Jing nodded. No face seen, no body shown, no voice heard. A wind swept out from the depths of the city and suppressed the demon, shattering its soul. This City Lord was truly mysterious.

Before he left, Ji Wuduan’s gaze suddenly fell on him. “You haven’t broken through to Nascent Soul either?”

Pei Jing looked at him. “Haven’t you either?”

Those people in the Heaven Pavilion were indeed talking nonsense.

Ji Wuduan said, “I thought you would have.”

“I ran into some minor trouble.” Every time he tried to break through the barrier, a cold aura would slowly emerge from his dantian. Recalling it made Pei Jing a bit frustrated. But his Master told him not to be too hasty, so he didn’t dare to be too persistent.

Ji Wuduan’s pale lips curled into a smile. “Then in the next Heaven-Asking Trial, you might be surpassed by Feng Jin.”

Pei Jing only laughed, his handsome face as calm as the wind. “Him? Forget it.”

Ji Wuduan sneered, “Baseless confidence.”

Pei Jing smiled. “But having it is everything.”

Coming back from the Ghost Realm was only a night’s journey. He didn’t even have time to return to Tianqian Peak. At the gate of Yunxiao, he shrank his stature, turned into Zhang Yiming, went up to Yinghui Peak, and headed straight for the Xiuya Courtyard.

It was almost dawn; the mist was light and white, and the coolness seeped into his clothes. Pei Jing pushed open the door, thinking Chu Junyu might still be asleep.

Upon entering, he locked eyes with Chu Junyu. The youth stood amidst the light mountain mist, his robes as elegant as snow swept by the wind.

Pei Jing froze, then scratched his head and laughed. “You’re up early.”