Chapter 58 Mortal Bones Binding Gods, Reversing Fate Item ① The half-baked one has truly arrived. ...
With a click, a stone door slowly slid open. A stronger, more intense smell, a mixture of blood and strange herbs, wafted out.
Inside the door was a not-so-spacious stone chamber, with several dim, yellowish animal-shaped lamps casting flickering, eerie shadows over everything. In the very center sat an unusually large, jet-black coffin, its lid held up by a specially made support. Scattered around the chamber were oddly shaped jade vessels of unknown purpose, as well as medicinal herbs soaking in an unidentified liquid.
Approaching the coffin, by the flickering lamplight, one can clearly see a human figure lying quietly inside.
Her eyes were tightly closed, her face a near-transparent pale white, as if all the color had been drained away. Her body was completely bound and fixed inside the coffin by a specially made dark cloth, especially around the waist and abdomen, where the outline beneath the cloth appeared extremely unnatural, presenting a strange depression, as if... something was missing.
"Ah Xue is almost ready." Feng Zhishan's voice suddenly rang out in the deathly silent stone chamber.
"Prepare what?" Her voice trembled slightly with suppressed anger and fear.
"Preparing to welcome the Yin God." He turned to look at her, a hint of almost fanaticism flickering in his eyes. "In the Yin year, Yin month, and Yin hour... my Fengzhi clan will welcome the first true form of the Yin God to descend into the world!"
He paused, his gaze falling on her as if examining a sacrifice nearing completion. "The sacred object A-Yuan brought you, you saw it, didn't you? That is the Soul-Guiding Ring, carefully nurtured with secret medicines and runes using the essence of your sister's Yin body. After forty-nine days of perfect cultivation, the artifact will be formed, and the essence of her body will return to its rightful place. After this tempering, your sister will no longer be a mere vessel of the mortal world, but the sole vessel through which her Yin spirit walks in the mortal realm!"
"You...you're a complete madman!" Feng Zhizhao felt an overwhelming surge of nausea and rage rush to her head, her stomach churning.
She could no longer restrain herself. The short knife she had been hiding in her sleeve slid to her palm, flashed with cold light, and she stabbed it fiercely at Feng Zhishan!
However, before the blade even reached her, her wrist was already clamped!
She didn't even see how Feng Zhishanyi made her move; she only felt a numbness in her acupoint, and the short sword fell to the ground with a thud. Immediately afterward, a heavy blow came from the back of her neck, her vision went black, and she lost consciousness.
When she awoke again, Feng Zhizhaoyin lay on the cold ground beside the dark black coffin, her hands bound by a specially made pair of shackles. Inside the coffin, Feng Zhizhaoxue had already slowly awakened and was turning her head to look at her with empty, lifeless eyes.
“Sister…” Zhaoxue’s voice was weak and hoarse, “You shouldn’t have come back.”
Feng Zhizhao struggled to sit up, the shackles clanking. Looking at her sister's bloodless face and the glaring indentation in her abdomen, her heart ached.
"You're not the one in the wrong!" Her voice was hoarse, filled with barely suppressed anger. "It's that madman! It's this cannibalistic Feng Zhi family!"
Zhaoxue slowly shook her head, a single, clear tear sliding from the corner of her eye and disappearing into her temple. "No... Sister, it's my fault. If I hadn't been born at the same time as you, bearing this 'twin Yin' destiny, Father might not have become so obstinate. He just... wanted to revitalize the Fengzhi Clan too much; the burden on his shoulders was too heavy..."
Hearing her sister's words, Feng Zhizhao felt a tightness in her chest, wishing she could pry open her sister's head to see what was inside! She was in hell, enduring excruciating pain, yet she was still trying to exonerate the person who had pushed her into the abyss?
"He did this for the Feng Zhi clan?" Feng Zhi Zhaoyin practically spat out the words through gritted teeth. "He turned you into this inhuman, ghost-like creature, took your organs, and used them to make magical artifacts. Is this what you call doing this for the Feng Zhi clan?! Ah Xue, wake up!"
She hated their lack of resistance and was furious at their ignorance! This submissive kindness made her feel more powerless and desperate than any sword.
Feng Zhizhaoxue flinched at her outburst, her eyes tightly shut, more tears silently welling up. She no longer argued, only murmuring, "It's all fate... Sister, this is all our fate..."
“Fate?” Feng Zhizhao sneered. “I don’t believe in fate, I only believe in myself.”
Ignoring her sister's submissive wails, she forced herself to sit up and began to carefully examine the cage that imprisoned them. The stone walls were sturdy, the stone door tightly shut, but the faint sounds of guards outside could be heard. Forcing their way out was impossible.
Suddenly, Feng Zhishan's words echoed in her mind—she was a sacrifice, and she needed to live before the ritual was completed.
A thought flashed through my mind in an instant.
She took a deep breath, then curled up, letting out a heart-wrenching scream before collapsing heavily to the ground, her limbs beginning to twitch.
"Sister?! Sister, what's wrong?!" Zhaoxue, inside the coffin, was startled by the sound and tried to get up, but was firmly bound by the cloth straps.
The guards outside had clearly heard the commotion. After a brief hesitation, the stone door was carefully pushed open a crack, and one of the guards cautiously peeked in. When he saw Feng Zhizhaoyin lying on the ground, her face bluish-purple, seemingly already dead, his expression changed drastically!
The guard dared not hesitate any longer. He rushed to her side, knelt down, and was about to check her breath.
Just as he bent down...
Feng Zhi Zhaoyin opened her eyes, and taking advantage of the guard's unpreparedness, her shackled hands quickly reached for the guard's neck, while simultaneously using her waist and legs to tighten the grip!
Caught off guard, the guard was pinned to the ground by her skillful strength and weight. His struggles gradually weakened, and he soon stopped moving.
Feng Zhi Zhaoyin then loosened the chains, quickly searched the guard's body, found the key, and freed him from his restraints.
"Let's go!" She turned to untie the bandages binding her younger sister. Feng Zhizhaoxue remained silent, only gazing tenderly at her with eyes brimming with tears.
However, when the last strip of cloth was untied and Feng Zhizhao reached out to help her sister up from the coffin, the younger sister let out an extremely weak and pitiful groan. Her body was incredibly limp, as if it had lost all support. Even more chillingly, as she moved, the cloth around her waist and abdomen, which had initially only slightly bled, was quickly soaked with a dark red liquid, and the heavy smell of blood instantly overwhelmed the aroma of the herbs.
Feng Zhi Zhaoyin then realized that her younger sister's body had long been damaged and broken due to years of tempering and organ loss, and that the slightest movement would cause it to shatter completely. She was simply... unable to straighten up.
A chill ran through her heart.
Just then, she suddenly caught a glimpse of a shadow moving outside the stone door, which wasn't completely closed. It was another guard outside!
He had clearly been standing guard outside the door, and had heard what was happening inside, and may even have seen what she was doing, but he didn't rush in.
A daring and adventurous plan took shape in Feng Zhizhaoyin's mind.
She took a deep breath, pressed the captured dagger against her neck, and said to the stone door, "I know you're outside. Come in and talk, or I'll kill myself right now. You should know that if I die, none of you will be able to explain yourselves."
After a moment of silence outside the door, the stone door was slowly pushed open. A young guard stood in the doorway, his expression complex, his hand tightly gripping the hilt of his sword.
What do you want?
"Help us get out of here."
The guard was silent for a moment, then said, "The West Courtyard is handling the Third Elder's funeral. There is a coffin that will be buried tonight. The funeral procession will depart from the side gate at 5 PM. I can place the Second Miss in the inner compartment of the coffin."
His gaze shifted to his unconscious companion. "You can wear his clothes. I guarantee he won't wake up and cause any trouble before tomorrow."
His decisive reaction surprised Feng Zhizhaoyin slightly. But this doubt was quickly suppressed by the urgency of reality. "Fine," she said, staring intently at him, "from this moment on, you have no way out."
In this desperate situation, she preferred to believe that it was the remaining humanity and undying conscience that prompted him to make this desperate choice.
Without further hesitation, Feng Zhizhao quickly stripped off the clothes of the unconscious guard, put them on herself, and tightly tied her long hair into a slightly oversized hat to try her best to conceal her figure.
“Hold on, Xue.” She bent down and carefully lifted her sister’s frighteningly light body, placing her in the inner lining of the coffin that the guard had indicated beforehand, and carefully padding it with the soft cloth she had found. She squeezed her sister’s cold hand tightly, her voice low and firm, “You’ll be free soon.”
As the bells tolled heavily at dusk, the funeral procession slowly set off into the twilight.
Feng Zhizhao lowered her hat brim and mingled at the back of the group, following behind the young guard, each step treading on a taut string of nerves.
However, the entire process went exceptionally smoothly. Passing through numerous courtyards and several heavily guarded gates, the guards merely glanced at them as a matter of routine before waving them away. Even the coffin with its hidden compartment was not opened for inspection.
Just as the group was about to pass through the last side gate and step into the winding mountain road outside, a figure stood quietly behind the railing atop a towering star-gazing pavilion in the distance, his clothes fluttering lightly in the evening breeze.
It was indeed a case of gentle breezes and tranquility.
He looked down at the tiny funeral procession from afar, as if it were an ant in the palm of his hand. Feng Zhiyuan stood beside him.
Feng Zhiyuan asked in a low voice, "Patriarch, are we really going to let them leave like this?"
Feng Zhishan said calmly, "It's just letting the caged birds think they've glimpsed the sky for now." A chilling smile appeared on his lips. "There's still a year until their coming-of-age ceremony. Forcibly imprisoning them now will only fuel their anger and resentment."
"Only by letting them taste freedom and allowing hope to sprout in their hearts will they develop a deeper attachment to this world. At that time, when they discover that all their struggles are in vain and all their hopes are illusions, the despair of falling from the clouds into the abyss will make them willingly dedicate everything to the underworld gods."
"Only in that way can we please the Yin God and bring true glory to my Fengzhi clan."
He glanced one last time at the petite "guard" in the group, who had deliberately lowered her head, then turned and disappeared into the deep shadows of the attic. "Until then, let them fly for a while."
...
With the help of the young guards, Feng Zhizhaoyin and her younger sister settled down temporarily at an inn dozens of miles away.
Although she was far from that cannibalistic mansion, she remained uneasy. The Feng family's influence was deeply entrenched, and their methods were unpredictable; it was only a matter of time before they tracked her down. Moreover, in this remote border town, the medical skills of the doctors were limited, and they had absolutely no chance of treating the strange injuries on Ah Xue's body that involved Yin energy.
She stuffed a heavy bag of gold leaves into the guard's hand, her tone grave, "Think of a way, at all costs, to find a doctor with superb medical skills, especially skilled in treating difficult and complicated diseases, or... who has treated injuries caused by evil spirits."
But after watching him leave, Feng Zhizhao looked back at her sister, who was lying on the bed barely breathing, and the string in her heart tightened even more.
The guard was, after all, a member of Feng Zhi's family. His willingness to risk his life to help was already commendable. But people's hearts are unpredictable. Should we really entrust our sister's life entirely to this act of kindness? What if it was another insidious test and trap set by the family?
"We can't wait, and we can't rely entirely on him." Feng Zhizhao made a decision in her heart. She quietly left the inn and went to the only carriage shop in town that was still open. She took a liking to a middle-aged driver who was waiting for fares on the street corner. He had a kind and taciturn appearance.
"Master, take my sister and me to the capital as soon as possible." She stuffed a gold leaf into the coachman's hand, her voice extremely low. "My sister is seriously ill and needs to rest. Do not let anyone disturb us on the journey. Once we arrive outside the capital, you may leave on your own without making a sound." To be on the safe side, she also hired two burly men who looked quite strong.
Back at the inn, Feng Zhizhao quickly packed her meager belongings, carefully covered her unconscious sister with a thick cloak, and had the two strong men gently lift her onto the carriage.
As night deepened, an inconspicuous green-canopied carriage drove out of the town, rolled over the deserted cobblestone road, and sped towards the capital, soon disappearing into the deep twilight.
Having arrived in the capital for over three months, Feng Zhizhaoyin had visited almost every renowned physician in the city in her quest to save her sister, sparing no expense to invite famous doctors from all over. This ostentatious search for medical help quickly spread throughout the capital, and everyone knew that a young woman with exceptionally generous spending and an urgent need for medical treatment had arrived.
However, the reactions of the several doctors who were invited to examine Feng Zhizhaoxue's injuries were all similar, with expressions of shock and disbelief on their faces.
An elderly physician with white hair and beard shook his head repeatedly after only a moment of touching Zhaoxue's wrist pulse. "This pulse is dry and disordered, like hollow rotten wood! Furthermore, there is a cold and evil qi entrenched in the internal organs, as if the innate essence has been forcibly extracted, like a tree with its roots severed or a lamp with its wick burned... In my decades of medical practice, I have never seen such domineering and bizarre damage, which cannot be cured by medicine!"
Another healer, renowned for his acupuncture skills, had just brought his silver needles close to Zhao Xue's old injury in her waist and abdomen when the needle tip turned a strange bluish-black. He withdrew his hand in shock and solemnly bowed to Feng Zhi Zhao Yin, saying, "Miss, your sister's injury has penetrated to the bone marrow, and there is also a foul energy that cannot be removed. It is beyond the reach of ordinary medical skills. Please forgive me for being powerless to help."
The repeated setbacks caused Feng Zhizhaoyin's heart to sink deeper and deeper into despair. Watching her sister's increasingly weak breathing, she knew she could no longer place all her hopes on outsiders.
After settling into a secluded residence in the western market of the capital, she began a life-or-death struggle against death. Her study was filled with medical books she had collected at great expense, ranging from classic works such as the "Huangdi Neijing" and "Shanghan Lun" to numerous records of difficult and complicated diseases, and even notes from physicians considered to be unorthodox practices.
The candles often burned all night long.
She buried herself in books, her eyes bloodshot, her fingers raw and scabbed from turning pages. She tried to find a glimmer of hope in those ancient prescriptions and bizarre medical records that might save her sister's life.
She read extremely fast and intensively, often eating with her left hand while her right hand kept flipping through and copying, her mind rapidly deducing various medicinal combinations, acupuncture methods, and even some witch doctors' therapies.
However, the gentle tonifying and conditioning methods recorded in orthodox medical books were utterly ineffective against Feng Zhizhaoxue's injuries, which had been tempered by evil magic and resulted in organ loss. Her sister's body was like a jade bottle with a cracked bottom; even the most precious tonics would be futile. And while those bizarre folk remedies might seem to be effective, they often contained potent and dangerous drugs, and she dared not gamble with her sister's remaining life force for such a possibility.
That day happened to be the Ghost Festival.
Following ancient customs, a grand Ullambana Festival was held in the capital. That night, every household set up incense tables and burned paper clothes. Lotus lanterns dotted the river, drifting with the current, like sparks lighting up a ferry crossing to the underworld.
The chanting of Buddhist scriptures and the sounds of bells and chimes intertwined, never ceasing, as a solemn procession carried the golden statue of the Bodhisattva through the streets, with banners and canopies stretching like dragons. Believers prostrated themselves along the roadside, praying for the peace of their ancestors' spirits.
The long street was brightly lit, and the crowds thronged shoulder to shoulder. The solemn statue and the swirling incense smoke, however, only evoked an indescribable sense of absurdity and sorrow in Feng Zhi Zhaoyin's eyes.
People pray to the gods to protect the souls of the dead so they can be freed, but she was powerless to even save the life of her closest loved ones who were about to disappear.
However, at that very moment, a cold and insane thought entered her almost desperate mind.
She remembered the volume titled "The Compendium of Death and Servitude".
They bind and lock up the underworld, forcibly alter the Book of Fate, and command the God of Death to serve their purposes.
If... if we could really command that god who holds the power of life and death, we could definitely save Ah Xue!
Returning from a walk outside to clear her head, the smell of medicine in the room was still bitter and pungent. Feng Zhizhaoxue was still unconscious. These days, she was awake less and less, and her breathing was becoming weaker and weaker, so shallow that it seemed as if she would stop breathing at any moment.
Feng Zhizhao stood quietly by the bed, gazing at her younger sister's pale face. She did not shed tears, nor did she murmur softly. She simply reached out and gently tucked a few stray strands of hair that had fallen across her sister's forehead behind her ear, her movements delicate yet firm.
"I won't let you die like this." Her voice wasn't loud, but it was resolute. "Those quack doctors can't save you, so I'll use my own methods to snatch you from the clutches of the King of Hell."
Once she firmly grasped the mad idea of controlling Death, the last trace of hesitation in Feng Zhizhao's heart vanished. Even if this act defied heaven and reason, and the hope was slim, she was determined to give it a try.
In the days that followed, she began to prepare the necessary items according to the vague records in the tattered scroll. Every item on the list was extraordinary: the corpse soil, which had accumulated yin energy, had to be taken from the depths of an ancient tomb; the heartwood of peach wood, which had been tainted by resentment for over a hundred years and had turned dark red; the rootless night dew, which had to be collected at midnight in a specific extremely yin place; and most importantly—the blood of ultimate yin.
While the first few items were difficult to obtain, she had been traveling the world for years and had connections with all sorts of people. Through the black market and certain shady, clandestine channels, she spent a fortune and eventually managed to gather them all.
The most precious of these, the blood of ultimate yin that others might struggle to find even in their entire lives, was the easiest for her to obtain—she herself possessed the "four yin convergence" body, a rare find in the Fengzhi family, and her blood was this ultimate yin substance.
It was the middle of the month, the night of the full moon, when the yin energy was at its peak.
Alone in her quiet room, Feng Zhizhaoyin slashed her wrist with a dagger without hesitation. Crimson blood gushed into a copper basin that had been prepared beforehand, filling it halfway. Her face was pale from blood loss, but her eyes were unusually bright, burning with an unyielding resolve.
Then, she dipped her finger in blood and drew a huge and intricate runic array on the floor. The doors and windows were also covered with secret spells of obstruction and restraint drawn with her blood.
The seven sharpened, century-old peach wood cores were nailed into the seven key nodes of the array, and the dew collected at midnight was carefully sprinkled into the grooves of the array patterns.
She retreated to the edge of the formation, holding the scroll "The Book of Death and Servitude," and began to chant the ancient incantation recorded on it that blasphemed the gods.
At first, it was just low syllables, but as the incantation progressed—
"boom--!"
Suddenly, a fierce wind arose outside, and flying sand and stones violently battered the doors and windows, producing a terrifying crashing sound. If not for the blood array's protection, this mortal wood would have long since shattered into pieces. A muffled thunderous sound faintly echoed in the dark night sky, as if the entire world was enraged and trying to stop this outrageous act.
However, this terrifying pressure only stirred up the stubbornness in Feng Zhizhao's bones. A near-manic smile even appeared on her lips, and her chanting became increasingly high-pitched and sharp, almost piercing the suffocating night.
When the last eerie syllable burst from her lips, the entire courtyard trembled violently!
The blood-red light in the center of the magic circle suddenly collapsed, forming a bottomless dark vortex.
Almost at the same instant, a figure appeared out of thin air.
He was shrouded in a large black cloak, his face hidden in the shadow of his hat brim. Only a chilling, deathly stillness permeated the air with his appearance.
Even so, he seemed to stagger half a step when he appeared.
Beneath the cloak emanated a sense of near-bewildered stagnation, as if one were momentarily taken aback by one's own predicament.
Then, as if sensing something, the shadow of his cloak shifted to face the girl standing silently outside the formation.
The girl stared at him intently.
An eerie silence suddenly fell over the atmosphere.
It was a success?
Did she really... forcibly drag that level of existence into the formation?
The shock of reality left Feng Zhizhaoyin somewhat dazed, but after the initial excitement, reason returned.
She suddenly felt a little puzzled. The silhouette of this "black cloak" looked so much like the one she had glimpsed in Xiaowangzhuang back then.
She was secretly surprised, but didn't show it on her face. She walked to the table, picked up a still warm oil paper package, and said eagerly, "The most famous amber pastry from Fengyue Tower, would you like to try it? I queued for almost two hours to buy it."
She untied the rope, revealing several golden-yellow, crisp pastries inside.
The "Grim Reaper" within the magic circle seemed to have just come to his senses, raising his hand, but a chain was swirling around his wrist, as if it had invisibly bound his original intentions.
Seeing that he seemed inclined to take it, Feng Zhizhao quickly placed the pastries at his feet. She dared not offer them directly. Heaven knows what the consequences of touching such a thing would be.
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