Red Line

Wan Ronggui watched him stab his buttocks with a dagger, then casually threw Yu Xiu aside and walked over to him. He tapped his fingertips on the top of his head and teased, "Oh my, you're so cruel to yourself. You'd rather do this than touch me?"

She squatted down and lifted his chin with her delicate hand. "Those who came before couldn't even think of it. I want to have a taste of you, a delicate monk."

"Get out of here." The two words were almost squeezed out from between his teeth, so fierce and ruthless.

Wan Rong Gui was not annoyed, and curled his lips, "Could it be that you don't like my appearance? Then what do you like?"

Wan Rong Gui flicked his sleeves and suddenly changed into another face.

Xiao Yuan.

Wanrong Ghost transformed into Xiao Yuan's face. Yin Heng looked at the person in front of him and felt nauseous.

He could secretly kiss him in his dreams, but he couldn't stand others using his lover's face to ask for sex with him.

Wan Ronggui didn't hold back at all. He grabbed Yin Heng's hand and placed it on her cheek. "Do you like this skin? Isn't this what you want most in your heart? What are you still struggling for?"

Yin Heng raised his head, looking at the Wanrong Ghost, who looked exactly like Xiao Yuan. He caressed her cheek, caressing her pale red lips, his hot fingertips sliding across her jaw. With passion, he gently caressed the ridge of her neck with his thumb, his rough fingerprints caressing the smooth skin.

Wan Ronggui enjoyed it very much. He climbed onto the back of his neck, leaned back slightly, and pressed his whole body against him.

Yin Heng's hand stopped at her neck, his eyes filled with murderous intent. He suddenly grasped her neck, tightening his grip. He said sinisterly, "Are you worthy of using his face?"

Yin Heng grabbed her neck with his backhand and pushed her into the warm pool, splashing water everywhere.

Wan Ronggui broke free from him and turned back into her original female form. She cursed, "You lunatic!"

Yin Heng sheathed the dagger, supported himself on the ground and stood up, and Yu Xiu, who had been thrown aside, returned to his hands.

Wan Ronggui transformed into silver threads and wrapped them around her fingertips, "You are so loyal, Immortal." She used the silver threads as weapons, and thousands of silver threads swept towards Yin Heng.

Yin Heng stood with a sword in his hand, avoiding the silver thread's approach. The sharp sword energy cut through the mist and could cut her in half in an instant.

Wan Ronggui almost dodged the attack. Yin Si could attack from a distance or in close combat. Now Yin Heng was only one person away from her.

She hooked the silver thread in her hands, swooped down, and got behind Yin Heng, intending to strangle him with the silver thread from behind.

When she flashed behind Yin Heng, the sword energy cut off the silver thread invisibly.

Yin Heng summoned a gust of wind, dispersing most of the mist. Wan Rong Gui, propelled by the immense force of the wind, lunged uncontrollably at Yin Heng. Just as she was about to reach him, Yin Heng shifted his body, allowing her to miss, and grabbed her by the collar with his right hand.

With the cold sword blade against her neck, Yin Heng cut her artery without hesitation, and blood immediately splattered on the back of his hand and face.

The Wanrong ghost turned into dust and dissipated completely with the fog in the sky, and the overwhelming desire also faded away.

Yin Heng shook off the blood drops on the sword, wiped the blood off his face with disgust, and put his hands into the pool to wash them.

Jiang Yun and Ye Qingci fell into the ghost realm of the Wujie together. Below the ghost realm of the Liangjie was a plum blossom forest, with bright red fallen petals covering the ground.

Plum blossoms shouldn't be blooming at this time of year, but this realm of ghosts is a fabricated illusion, and only the ghosts inside are real.

Ye Qingci held Jiang Yun's hand. The ghost was sitting on a branch of a plum tree, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Little monk, don't look for me anymore. I'm here."

The red-line ghost looked at them leisurely.

The two looked up and saw the Red Thread Ghost beckoning its hand, and a long red thread emerged from around them. The red thread, red as blood, wrapped around Jiang Yun's waist like a spirit, hooking him towards the Red Thread Ghost.

He flew into the air, and Ye Qingci quickly grabbed his hand. A sudden pain made him loosen his grip, and the red thread led him to the plum tree.

The red line extended endlessly, wrapping around his waist, hands, and legs, binding him up like a pupa.

The red ghost voice was sharp, "Do you want him? Exchange him with your heart's blood."

Jiang Yun rolled his eyes and said, "Sister, are you sick?"

Ye Qingci drew his sword and sneered, "Childish."

Jiang Yun mobilized his spiritual power and summoned spiritual fire, trying to burn away these tangled red lines.

The Red Thread Ghost reminded him, "Little monk, I'm reminding you. This red thread is between you and him. If this red thread is broken, your fate will be broken too."

Besides, the spiritual fire cannot burn them at all.

Hearing this, Jiang Yun paused, the spiritual fire in his hand erratic. Ye Qingci had already taken off into the air with his sword. The red ghost grabbed Jiang Yun's clothes and took him to the nearby plum tree.

Ye Qingci was a sword cultivator, and one strike of his sword could counter a hundred different spells. He didn't want to play a game of catch-up with her, so he put his fingers together and transformed his single strike into dozens.

The sword itself was suspended in the air, with dozens of identical swords beside it, translucent and faintly glowing.

At his command, dozens of swords swiftly pierced through the dense blossoms. Sword energy, carrying the fragrance of plum blossoms, approached, and the Red Thread Ghost led Jiang Yun to dodge the swarm of swords.

Sword energy is different from spiritual fire. Jiang Yun's spiritual fire is summoned purely by spiritual power and cannot burn the red line, but Ye Qingci's sword energy can cut them off immediately.

Even if the Red Thread Ghost was agile, it couldn't dodge all the swords with a single person. The red threads wrapped around Jiang Yun were completely cut, and he immediately drew his sword and stabbed the Red Thread Ghost.

The Red Thread Ghost gripped the tip of the sword with two fingers, making a buzzing sound, and then flexed his fingers to shake him away. Jiang Yun landed beside Ye Qingci and gave him a bright smile, not caring at all that the red thread was cut.

If the red thread is broken, the fate is broken. Their love is stronger than gold, and there is no need for her to stir up trouble.

Ye Qingci nodded, and Jiang Yun understood, tossing the brocade bag to him. The talisman paper was held between his fingers, floating in the wind. Ye Qingci bit his fingertip, and a bead of blood condensed into a ball, hanging in the air.

Jiang Yun plunged his sword into the earth, muttering a spell. In a moment, the sword glowed. The Red Line Ghost, unable to withstand the bright light, shielded its sight with its hands.

Jiang Yun released the hilt of the sword, "Sword formation, start!"

A huge formation rose up under his feet, and Ye Qingci's sword group reappeared, rushing towards the red line ghost in greater numbers.

She leaped forward, but crashed into an invisible barrier.

The sword formation had already been activated, leaving her with no escape. Countless agitated swords surrounded her, confining her within a certain range, preventing her from moving.

"Kill." Ye Qingci's extremely cold voice sounded, and thousands of spiritual swords suddenly rose up and converged. The sharp swords strangled the red line ghost in the sword formation.

After the Red Thread Ghost died, the sword formation naturally withdrew. Jiang Yun bumped into Ye Qingci and asked for credit, "Qingci, how about it, did I cooperate well?"

Ye Qingci suppressed the murderous intent on his face and curled his lips towards him. He hummed softly and leaned over to kiss his lips.

Xiao Yuan was not so lucky. Hades did some tricks and threw him into the ghost realm of the Liang class.

Just to keep him and make him his blood slave.

Xiao Yuan walked alone in the ghostland. It was pitch black, nothing in sight. He walked for a long time, seeing no obstacles. He was too lazy to light a spiritual fire, so he just kept walking forward in the dark.

"A Yuan." A familiar female voice called his name.

Xiao Yuan's pupils suddenly shrank, his breathing stagnated for a moment, and he suddenly turned around to look.

In the dim light, she smiled at him with gentle and familiar eyes.

Mother.

He wanted to go forward and hug the person he hadn't seen in years, but he came to his senses.

My mother died a long time ago, died in that winter, died in the cold lake.

Seeing that Xiao Yuan was not fooled, the ghost put away the illusion and turned into a ball of black mist, attacking him. Its ghostly aura was very weak, so Xiao Yuan just raised his hand to strangle it, and with a little force, he crushed it.

Xiao Yuan frowned, not understanding the meaning of this at all.

After that, Xiao Yuan didn't know how many times he encountered such ghosts.

He saw the same illusion again, and the woman called him Ayuan again, but there was some difference.

She...actually ran towards him and wanted to hug him.

Xiao Yuan subconsciously tried to dodge, but something behind him struck him from mid-air. The force of the blow was so great that it nearly shattered his internal organs, and a fishy-sweet taste surged in his throat.

He staggered a step and the woman hugged him.

Her arms were warm, like every hug he had given her before.

So warm.

Xiao Yuan's heart was subtly touched, and the ghosts noticed it, and the warm embrace disappeared. Thousands of ghosts swarmed over him, enveloping him, and the black mist pressed down on his back, forcing him to kneel on the ground.

He wanted to stand up, but his knees were so painful that he felt like all the bones in his body were about to be crushed.

The black fog quietly penetrated into his chest, and the scene before his eyes changed in an instant.

He grew up in Shuangfeng City. As its name suggests, the city has two peaks: Lingcang Peak and Lilin Peak, with the Cangjing Sect and Chiqing Sect on either side.

The perspective became lower, and the people walking around me seemed to be half a person's height shorter than me.

The warmth in her palms was blazing as she held his hand and handed him a string of candied haws. She stuffed the hawthorn into his mouth and asked, "A Yuan, is it sweet?"

The woman's smile suddenly disappeared, and turned into a passerby's words: "I don't know why the woman jumped into the lake and died tragically."

Before he could grab her hand, it was gone. "Mother!"

There was a raging fire in front of him. He burned down the small thatched hut where he and his mother lived with his own hands, holding his mother's suicide note tightly in his hand.

He struggled in the illusion, breaking it open, but the countless ghosts still weighed on him. He pulled out his black hair and stuck it into the ground, his five fingers tightly gripping the hilt of his sword, forcing himself to hold back.

The cold air from the fingertips continuously overflowed along the hilt of the sword, covering the entire ground with an overwhelming force.

The air also became stagnant.

The ghost's illusion could be anyone, but it definitely couldn't be his mother. His mother was his untouchable reverse scale, his unhealable scar, and his inescapable swamp.

His mother should not be used as a blade to kill him.

But it is his hope of life.

He wants to go out.

go out.

Xiao Yuan raised his hand to wipe the blood from the corner of his lips. The cold air surged out with even greater force, like a flood. The ice enveloped all the ghosts, and any nearby ghosts were crushed by the ice, turning into dust and being chased under his feet.

The black hair followed the movement of his wrist, and spiritual energy was poured into the sword. He swung the sword in the air. The ice instantly shattered, shattering into thousands of pieces, and the entire ghost domain shook.

The only ghost that hadn't died was not the black fog. It stood in human form not far away, staring at him intently. Xiao Yuan couldn't see clearly, but he could sense the cold gaze.

He swooped down, intending to kill it. Seeing this, it remained motionless, and when the sword energy approached, it disappeared without a trace.

Xiao Yuan was exhausted, clutching his chest and kneeling on the ground. The palm strike from behind just now was extremely fierce, almost aimed at killing him. Now it was like an evil spirit piercing through his body, tightly grasping his heart.

After a long time, so long that his legs began to go numb, he finally stood up and walked forward. He walked slowly, one man with a sword, the only sound being the tip of the sword scraping across the ground.