Wen Ning’s head was slightly bowed, his arms hanging limp, like a marionette awaiting its master’s commands.

His face, pale and delicate, could be considered handsome in a melancholic way. However, his eyes held no pupils, only a flat expanse of white, crisscrossed by numerous black, cracking lines that climbed his face from his neck, transforming the melancholy into a terrifying gloom. The lower hem and sleeves of his robe were ragged and torn, revealing wrists the same ashen shade as his face, with black cuffs and chains binding both wrists and ankles. A faint tinkling sound echoed as the iron chains scraped against the ground. If he stopped moving, silence returned.

It was easy to see why the cultivators were terrified. Wei WuXian was no less calm. In fact, a storm raged within his chest, already threatening to burst forth.

It wasn’t that Wen Ning *should* be here, but that he *shouldn’t* be in this world at all. He had been reduced to ashes even before the siege of Luanzang Hill.

Hearing the others call Wen Ning’s name, Jin Ling’s blade, originally aimed at the Soul-Devouring Goddess, instinctively shifted direction. Taking advantage of the distraction, the Soul-Devouring Goddess readily extended her arm and scooped him up.

As Wei WuXian saw her open mouth approaching Jin Ling, he had no time for surprise. He raised his wooden flute again, his hands trembling slightly, and the notes that escaped were equally unsteady. Beyond this, the flute, roughly crafted, produced a harsh, unpleasant sound. With two notes, Wen Ning began to move.

In the blink of an eye, he was before the Soul-Devouring Goddess. Wen Ning struck her with the side of his palm. A crack echoed from her neck, and though her body remained still, her head twisted violently, turning to face the direction of her back, yet still maintaining a smile. Wen Ning struck again, cleanly severing her right hand, which held Jin Ling.

She bowed her head, gazing at the severed wrist. Instead of turning her head, her entire body rotated, so that she faced Wen Ning with both her front and back. Wei WuXian dared not relax. He took a deep breath and commanded Wen Ning to fight. But soon, he was even more shocked.

Low-level corpses were incapable of independent thought, requiring his commands to act. Powerful fierce corpses were usually delirious or unconscious. But Wen Ning was different—created by Wei WuXian, he was arguably the strongest fierce corpse in the world. He alone possessed the capacity for thought. He feared neither injury, fire, cold, poison, nor anything that living humans feared.

Yet, at that moment, Wen Ning was clearly not conscious!

He was both shocked and doubtful as cries of alarm erupted from the crowd. Using both arms and legs, Wen Ning pinned the Soul-Devouring Goddess to the ground. He picked up a rock, taller than a man, and brought it down with immense force upon the Soul-Devouring Goddess. Each blow echoed like thunder, shattering the stone body of the Soul-Devouring Goddess into pieces!

Amidst the scattered rocks, a marble-sized sphere rolled out, radiating a circle of snowy light. It was the core condensed within the Soul-Devouring Goddess after devouring the souls of ten or so living people. If carefully retrieved, it could potentially restore the souls of those recently devoured. However, no one dared to approach the sphere. The blades that had been aimed at the Soul-Devouring Goddess all turned away.

One cultivator roared, “Close in on him!”

Some hesitantly replied, but more remained indecisive, slowly backing away. The cultivator shouted again, “Fellow cultivators, we must block him from escaping! This is Wen Ning we face!”

These words convinced the crowd. What was a mere Soul-Devouring monster compared to the Ghost General? Though the reason for his appearance was unknown, it was clear that killing a thousand Soul-Devouring spirits was nothing compared to capturing a single Wen Ning. After all, this was the YiLing Patriarch’s most obedient mad dog, biting without a sound. If captured, they would surely become famous in the cultivation world and rise quickly! Their original goal in attending the Dafan Mountain night hunt was to gain experience fighting fairies, beasts, and evil spirits. With the shouts, it was clear that some were interested. Yet, the older cultivators, who had witnessed Wen Ning’s ferocity firsthand, remained cautious. Thus, the cultivator shouted once more, “What are you afraid of? The YiLing Patriarch isn’t here now!”

After a moment’s thought, the words resonated. What was there to fear? His master was already shattered!

With these words, the ring of swords surrounding Wen Ning suddenly shrank. Wen Ning waved his arm, and the black iron chains swept past, deflecting the swords. Then, he took a step forward and grasped the neck of the cultivator nearest him. With a slight tug, he lifted him from the ground. Seeing this, Wei WuXian knew that the flute’s previous notes had been too hasty and abrupt, stirring a killing intent within him. To quell it, Wei WuXian calmed his feelings and played another melody.

The melody drifted over his mind naturally. It was relaxed and tranquil, a stark contrast to the previous bizarre and piercing sound. Hearing it, Wen Ning froze, slowly turning towards the source of the melody. Wei WuXian stood still, gazing into his empty eyes.

After a moment, Wen Ning released his grip, tossing the cultivator to the ground. He lowered his arms and walked slowly towards Wei WuXian.

His head bowed, dragging the heavy chains, he seemed dejected. Wei WuXian retreated, playing the flute, guiding him forward. Walking a short distance, they entered the forest, where Wei WuXian suddenly caught the cool scent of sandalwood.

Immediately after, his back bumped against someone. A sharp pain shot through his wrist, and the flute melody ceased. Wei WuXian thought, “Oh no,” and turned to see Lan WangJi’s eyes, light-colored to the point of seeming physically cold.

The situation looked bleak. Lan WangJi had witnessed him controlling corpses with the flute.

Lan WangJi steadily grasped Wei WuXian’s arm. Wen Ning stood still about two zhang away, slowly surveying the surroundings as if searching for the suddenly vanished flute melody. From deep within the forest, the glow of flames and the sounds of human voices spread. Wei WuXian quickly made his decision—so what if Lan WangJi had seen him do this before? Tens of thousands knew how to play the flute, and those who imitated the YiLing Patriarch’s method of controlling corpses could form their own sect. He wouldn’t confess, no matter what!

He resolutely ignored Lan WangJi’s grip and raised his arm to play again. This time, the tempo was faster, as if urging or scolding. His breath was unsteady, and each note cracked at the end, sounding shrill and harsh. Suddenly, Lan WangJi’s grip tightened, almost breaking his wrist. Wei WuXian’s fingers loosened from the pain, and the wooden flute fell to the ground.

Fortunately, his orders were clear enough. Wen Ning retreated swiftly, disappearing into the dark and gloomy forest without a sound. Wei WuXian feared that Lan WangJi would pursue Wen Ning, so he grabbed Lan WangJi instead. Surprisingly, Lan WangJi never even looked at Wen Ning, but fixated on Wei WuXian. The two stood face to face, gripping each other’s arms, locked in a stare.

At the same time, Jiang Cheng arrived.

He patiently awaited the outcome at Buddha’s Feet, but before finishing a single cup of tea, a disciple rushed down the mountain, reporting the monstrous power and cruelty of the creature at Dafan Mountain. His heart pounding, he rushed back. He shouted, “A-Ling!”

Jin Ling, who had almost been taken by the Soul-Devouring Goddess moments before, stood unharmed, “Uncle!”

Seeing Jin Ling safe, Jiang Cheng finally calmed down. He quickly scolded, “Didn’t you bring signal fires? Don’t you know to use them when facing something like this? Why pretend to be strong? Come here!”

Jin Ling, angered by not capturing the Soul-Devouring Goddess, retorted, “Wasn’t it you who told me I had to catch it? And if I didn’t catch it, I shouldn’t come see you?”

Jiang Cheng seriously considered slapping the brat so hard he’d return to his mother’s womb. But he had said it himself, and couldn’t back down. He could only sarcastically address the fallen cultivators, “What in the world could have happened to beat you up so gracefully?”

Among the cultivators in various robes, a number were disguised disciples of the YunmengJiang Sect, secretly assisting Jin Ling in case he faltered. A responsible elder, indeed. One cultivator, still reeling from shock, stammered, “Sect… Sect Leader, it’s… it’s Wen Ning…”

Jiang Cheng thought he’d misheard, “What did you say?”

The cultivator replied, “Wen Ning is back!”

Shock, disgust, anger, and disbelief flooded Jiang Cheng’s face.

After a long silence, he spoke bitterly, “That thing was reduced to dust before everyone’s eyes. How can it return?”

The disciple insisted, “It truly is Wen Ning! There’s no mistake! My eyes couldn’t have deceived me!” He pointed to the side, “… He was the one who summoned him!”

Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi were now the center of everyone’s attention, Jiang Cheng’s piercing gaze also falling upon them.

After a moment, a twisted smile touched Jiang Cheng’s lips. His left hand unconsciously traced the ring. He spoke softly, “… Well, well. So you’re back?”

He released his hand, and a long purple whip dangled from it.

The whip, slender and lightning-fast, crackled with the energy of a storm cloud. He held one end, and as he brandished it, rapid slashes of lightning seemed to erupt.

Before Wei WuXian moved, Lan WangJi had already placed his zither before him. With a confident stroke, it was as if a rock had created thousands of waves in water. The zither’s sound created countless ripples in the air, clashing with Zidian. The latter waned, and the former waxed.

Jiang Cheng’s considerations of “not rashly fighting him” and “not offending the Lan Clan” were forgotten. The night sky above Dafan Mountain’s forest pulsed with purple light, then blazed like day; deafening thunder clashed with the waves of zither notes. The rest of the cultivators retreated to a safe distance, watching in awe and fear. After all, few had the chance to witness two prominent cultivators from powerful families clash directly, and many hoped for a fierce fight. Some unspoken hopes for the Lan and Jiang clans to clash also arose. Wei WuXian, meanwhile, waited for his chance and suddenly sprinted away.

The crowd was astonished. He hadn’t been struck by the whip only because Lan WangJi had shielded him. Running like this was tantamount to seeking his own death!

Sure enough, as if eyes had sprouted on his back, Jiang Cheng saw him leave Lan WangJi’s protection and seized the opportunity. With a slicing crack of his whip, Zidian, like a venomous dragon, struck precisely at his back!

Wei WuXian was almost thrown from the whip’s attack. If not for the donkey blocking him, he would have crashed into a tree. However, after the blow, both Lan WangJi and Jiang Cheng seemed stunned.

Wei WuXian massaged his waist, using the donkey for support to rise. He hid behind it, angrily exclaiming, “Amazing! Powerful clans can do anything, can’t they? They can beat anyone! Tsk, tsk, tsk!”

Lan WangJi, “…”

Jiang Cheng, “…”

He was both shocked and enraged, “What’s happening?”

One unique power of Zidian was that if it struck someone who had seized another’s body, their soul and physical form would immediately separate. Without exception, the person’s soul would be ripped from their body. Yet, Wei WuXian was still moving and running after being struck. The only explanation was that he hadn’t seized this body.

Wei WuXian thought, “Of course, Zidian couldn’t whip out my soul. I didn’t seize anyone’s body, but was forcibly given one!”

Bewilderment crossed Jiang Cheng’s face as he prepared to strike again, when Lan JingYi suddenly shouted, “Sect Leader Jiang, this should be enough, right? It was Zidian!”

It was impossible for the first strike to fail and the second to succeed with a magical weapon like Zidian. If nothing was extracted, nothing would be extracted; if it wasn’t a seized body, it wouldn’t be a seized body. In fact, the shout prevented Jiang Cheng, who valued his reputation above all else, from striking again.

However, if it wasn’t Wei WuXian, who else could have summoned and controlled Wen Ning?

Even after much thought, Jiang Cheng couldn’t accept it. He pointed at Wei WuXian, scowling, “Who in the world are you?”

Finally, a meddling bystander added, “Sect Leader Jiang, you might not have noticed this. Mo XuanYu was the LanlingJin Sect’s… Ahem, he used to be a foreign disciple of the Jin Sect. But because his spiritual powers were weak, he didn’t study hard, and… he harassed a peer and was expelled from the LanlingJin Sect. I’ve also heard he lost his mind? In my opinion, he was probably bitter from being unable to cultivate correctly and took a wrong path. It might not be… the YiLing Patriarch seizing this body.”

Jiang Cheng asked, “That? Which one?”

“That… as in that…”

Someone couldn’t help but add, “The cut-sleeve penchant!”

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrows twitched. His gaze at Wei WuXian was more disgusted than before. More comments followed, but no one dared to speak openly in front of Jiang Cheng.

Though infamous, people acknowledged that before betraying the YunmengJiang Sect, the YiLing Patriarch Wei WuXian was known for his handsome appearance and refined cultivation in the six arts. He ranked fourth among the young masters of the cultivation world, described as lively and cheerful. On the other hand, the ill-tempered Sect Leader Jiang ranked fifth, surpassed by him. Most people weren’t bold enough to mention this. Wei Ying was a frivolous and wanton person who enjoyed the company of beautiful women. No one knew how many female cultivators he had charmed, but it was unheard of that he was also attracted to men. Even if he wanted to steal a body and seek revenge… according to Wei Ying’s tastes, he definitely wouldn’t have chosen a lunatic cut-sleeve who rode a donkey, ate fruit, and painted his face like a hanged ghost!

Someone else muttered, “It’s not him, no matter how you look at it… The flute was also played terribly… This is definitely a case of blind imitation, hearing how inferior it sounded.”

During the “Sunshot Campaign,” the YiLing Patriarch stood on the battlefield, playing his flute all night, controlling the ghost soldiers like a living army. He swept away all obstacles—human or god—who stood before him. His flute’s sound was like an immortal’s, utterly incomparable to the terrible moans of the abandoned son of the Jin Clan. No matter how bad Wei WuXian’s character was, it was too insulting to compare them like this.

Wei WuXian felt somewhat offended, “… Why don’t you try playing a few notes after ten years of not practicing, using a lousy flute made of a few slices and cuts? If it sounds pleasant, I’ll kneel before you!”

A moment ago, Jiang Cheng was certain this was Wei WuXian, and his blood boiled. Now, Zidian clearly indicated otherwise. Zidian wouldn’t deceive or make a mistake, so he quickly calmed himself and thought, “This doesn’t mean anything. I should first find an excuse to take him back and use every possible method to get information out of him. It’s impossible for him not to confess or give himself away. I’ve done things like this before.” After considering this, he gestured. The disciples understood and approached.

Wei WuXian hurriedly jumped behind Lan WangJi with the donkey, exclaiming, “Ah! What are you going to do to me?”

Lan WangJi gave him a look, tolerating his extremely rude, noisy, and exaggerated behavior.

Seeing he had no way to move, Jiang Cheng said, “Second Young Master Lan, are you purposely making it difficult for me?”

Everyone in the cultivation world knew that the young leader of the Jiang Clan obsessively watched out for Wei WuXian. He’d rather catch the wrong person than miss any possibility, taking anyone who resembled Wei WuXian to the YunmengJiang Sect for severe torture. If he wanted to take someone back, the opposition would surely suffer. Lan SiZhui spoke, “Sect Leader Jiang, the evidence is clear—Mo XuanYu’s body wasn’t taken. If so, why should you trouble such an insignificant person?”

Jiang Cheng replied coldly, “Then, why is Second Young Master Lan going to such lengths to protect such an insignificant person?”

Suddenly, Wei WuXian chuckled softly.

He said, “Sect Leader Jiang, umm, I’ll feel very troubled if you keep bothering me like this.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrow twitched again. His instincts told him this person would definitely not say anything pleasing.

Wei WuXian said, “Thank you for your enthusiasm. However, your assumptions are quite off. Even if I am attracted to men, I don’t like just any man, much less follow anyone who waves at me. For example, I’m not interested in someone like you.”

Wei WuXian was deliberately trying to provoke him. Jiang Cheng had always hated being outdone by others, no matter how trivial the comparison. If anyone said he wasn’t as good as someone else, he’d be angered and wouldn’t rest until he surpassed them. As expected, Jiang Cheng’s face darkened, “Oh, really? Then, may I ask which type you’re interested in?”

Wei WuX