Jiang Youyue thought further than Qu Duanyun and quickly saw through Ku Mountain Sect's trick.

This whole thing had been a trap from the beginning.

Monk Juehui and Protector Hua were just bait to lure them into lowering their guard. It's likely that before confirming "Immortal Gathering killed several great heroes," Ku Mountain Sect had used other means to persuade various sects to ambush nearby. Coincidentally, rumors of rebellion were spreading, and bandits and refugees had all gathered nearby, making the auras extremely mixed. As long as the martial artists hid far enough away, they really had no way to detect them.

After that, Ku Mountain Sect only needed to hold their attention. The reinforcements could quietly prepare their battle formations without being exposed prematurely.

To achieve this goal, the Desire Child had actually thrown himself to the front lines.

Jiang Youyue's ears were ringing, feeling as if thousands of tiny needles were pricking inside his head. His heart was torn in two, half relieved at the Desire Child's cunning and strength, half anxious about the bizarre situation.

The Twin Roots was used skillfully, and with Red Hook Sect as a backing, it wasn't surprising that Ku Mountain Sect had obtained the Twin Roots. What was strange was their behavior.

Shi Jingzhi's meridians had clearly reached their limit. The flesh statues from various places were continuously providing essence, and suddenly adding such external force would only cause his body to deteriorate faster. Yin Ci was connected to the Suspended Tree, sharing life and death, and there was no way he could have a good end.

What did they mean by "won't die"?

Unfortunately, he couldn't continue to think clearly.

Like rising from the quiet bottom of water to the surface, vivid colors crashed into his eyes, and chaotic sounds filled his ears. The wilderness, originally desolate and vast, was now crowded with martial artists who had rushed here specifically. Loud shouts could be heard everywhere, weapons clashed with clanging sounds, like spring grass, first scattered, then spreading into a continuous patch. For a time, sword winds rose and cold blades flew in all directions. People poured in from all sides, converging into a torrent full of fighting spirit.

Heaven and earth rumbled together, as if about to collapse into a heap.

The number of immortal puppets summoned by the True Immortal was limited and no match for the martial artists eager for revenge. The jade-like puppets were torn to pieces, twitching as they fell to the ground. Taiheng Sect surrounded Qu Duanyun and Jiang Youyue, forcibly separating them from the True Immortal. Shi Zhongyu directed the elders, and behind Shi Jingzhi, the energy gathered into a mass, swelling almost to the point of bursting.

The True Immortal focused on the Suspended Tree, not caring about face. The poisonous fire burned long and unquenchable, and Shi Jingzhi had replenished his true energy. Seeing the situation turn unfavorable, it intended to transform into a flesh slurry and leave this place first—

A hand directly pierced through the flesh slurry.

Yin Ci used all his strength to crash into the shapeless flesh slurry with his broken body. The True Immortal's movements were half a beat slow, and the chanting of the "Woodless Sutra" from all around was getting closer. Jianchen Temple's lineage was particularly good at dealing with evil spells, and its spells were repeatedly interfered with, unable to escape.

Yin Ci thus embraced the shapeless flesh slurry, a smile on his face that was burned beyond recognition.

Monk Juehui had also returned. The old monk looked up at the writhing flesh slurry in the air, his expression extremely complex. Monk Zhixing followed behind him as usual, now wide-eyed and tongue-tied.

"Ma-Master, what is that thing?"

"Just an evil spirit."

The True Immortal finally realized the situation was dire. It no longer tried to escape or summon wind and rain. The flesh slurry contracted, and countless hard tendrils shot out in all directions. A dozen or so Red Hook Sect disciples couldn't dodge in time and were instantly skewered. Six or seven chanting monks had their brows pierced, and the originally tight encirclement had several gaps.

As the chanting weakened, the True Immortal resorted to its old tricks, intending to harm people with spells again. Dark clouds rolled and fierce winds rose once more. Monk Juehui sighed softly, uttering Buddha's name, and with a wave of his arm—

The Infinite Prayer Beads were thrown towards the fierce wind, landing perfectly in Shi Jingzhi's hand. Shi Jingzhi stared intently at the deformed True Immortal, activating the long-accumulated torrent of energy.

Just like at the Ghost Tomb, the Infinite Prayer Beads grew frantically. Like a spider's thread, they entangled the wildly stabbing True Immortal into a ball. Yin Ci had made several bloody holes in its body, conveniently allowing the prayer beads to pass through.

However, the torrent of energy hadn't been exhausted and continued to wash through Shi Jingzhi's meridians.

Shi Jingzhi's eyes were a bright red, blood flowing from his seven apertures. The wound on his throat burst open again, oozing pink bloody foam. He walked step by step towards the frantically struggling True Immortal, his figure swaying unsteadily, lightning from the spell striking the ground near his feet from time to time.

"Zizhu," he murmured with a smile, stretching out his arms towards Yin Ci as if to embrace him. In the distance, the mist dispersed, revealing the outline of Ku Mountain, no different from twenty-four years ago.

"I've come to take you away," Shi Jingzhi said softly, blood continuously dripping from the corners of his mouth. He tried to stab the True Immortal with the Shadow Hanging Sword, but barely had the strength left to hold the sword.

A hand supported him.

Yin Ci stumbled to the ground, barely leaning against Shi Jingzhi. He raised his hand, still showing white bone, and covered Shi Jingzhi's right hand holding the sword.

"Alright," Yin Ci's voice was steady and relaxed, just like when they first met in the maple forest.

As soon as he finished speaking, he suddenly exerted force with his hand. The Shadow Hanging Sword, pushed by Yin Ci, plunged deep into the True Immortal's body.

With a tremendous boom, the earth shook even more violently.

Taiheng was a renowned righteous sect, each member with profound internal strength. The torrent of energy from the crowd found an outlet, and the black fire burned like an explosion. The shapeless flesh slurry trembled and was once again covered in black fire.

This time the fire was fierce, and its regeneration visibly slowed. The flesh slurry changed into a human-shaped chunk of meat, then burned and shattered. Rolling black smoke shot straight into the sky, and the gathered dark clouds dispersed again.

People approached from all directions, seeing the Taiheng elders all red-faced as they transmitted their internal energy. They followed suit and began transmitting as well. Jiang Youyue was horrified, his throat almost hoarse.

"Stop!" he shouted hoarsely, "You're destroying the foundation of Dayun!!!"

No one paid him any attention.

"If you keep burning, natural disasters will come, and illnesses won't heal! It's just a few mortals who died, you—"

Still, no one paid him any attention.

His voice was drowned out by people's excited conversations. Most of the martial arts world was immersed in the joy of defeating their enemy and slaying the evil spirit. Jiang Youyue shouted until his voice was gone, so angry that he vomited several mouthfuls of blood on the spot. Mortals were so foolish, they didn't even know what they were burning.

Mortals were indeed so foolish...

Finally, no more tiny roots grew from the True Immortal's body. The flames crackled and burned, gradually turning the flesh into charred black powder. Whether it was everyone's imagination or not, as a gentle breeze passed, a sigh of relief seemed to emanate from the ashes.

Yin Ci collapsed along with it.

His body was already in tatters, and now it disintegrated rapidly. Under everyone's watchful eyes, his legs were the first to turn to dust, followed by his chest and abdomen, then his arms and shoulders. He fell beside Shi Jingzhi, leaving only a still-burning head and a charred spine. The blood-red tendrils writhed half-dead, quickly withering and drying up.

Shi Jingzhi cradled that head in his arms, his eyes unblinking as he gazed ahead—

Not far away, those ball-like bare branches broke off at the roots. They became visible to everyone, twitching and struggling incessantly, then shriveling up with no signs of regeneration.

As the Suspended Tree perished, the outermost root system naturally "disconnected" first. In Shi Jingzhi's arms, Yin Ci's head went still, and like the bare branches, only a few dying blood-red root filaments remained on its surface.

"Amitabha, my condolences, benefactor," Zhixing cautiously approached. He didn't know what was going on, but seeing Yin Ci burned down to just a head, he felt a deep sense of sorrow. The two had a master-disciple relationship after all, and Shi Jingzhi tightly hugging that head, unwilling to let go, must be grief-stricken.

"Benefactor Yin, he..."

The little monk's latter half of the sentence was scared back into his stomach by Sect Leader Shi.

They saw Shi Jingzhi let out a long sigh, using his last bit of strength to bite through his still-intact right palm. Under the puzzled gazes of the crowd, Shi Jingzhi pressed his bloody hand onto the top of that human head, among the blood-red root filaments.

"Come."

Fresh blood flowed down the charred human head, and Shi Jingzhi's voice was soft and gentle. The Hanging Shadow Sword fell to the ground, finally shattering into several pieces after enduring too much energy.

"In terms of size and energy, I can't compare to the Suspended Tree. But since they created me based on the Suspended Tree... I can learn a thing or two from its abilities."

Those withered tendrils encountered fresh blood and were stunned for a moment. They paused briefly, then greedily began to absorb the energy, even burrowing into Shi Jingzhi's body through his wound.

As the wound was torn open and blood vessels were squeezed, Shi Jingzhi instantly broke out in a cold sweat from the pain. Yet he remained motionless, firmly kneeling in place, allowing those filaments to burrow throughout his entire body.

They seeped into his internal organs, taking root there, almost greedily seizing his energy. The pain was as if his internal organs were being ground by a stone mill. Shi Jingzhi couldn't help it for a moment, his face a mix of tears and sweat.

But he still didn't let go of that head.

The scene that followed made everyone take a step back in an instant.

Those tendrils, having absorbed their fill of energy, finally began to writhe actively again. They wove together to form bones and muscles, hair and skin. Starting from that head, Yin Ci's body gradually took shape. Correspondingly, Shi Jingzhi's face turned ashen, visibly wasting away, with small groans escaping from his throat.

As Yin Ci's complexion recovered, the blood-red tendrils connecting the two gradually became transparent, disappearing into thin air.

"Make way! Everyone make way for this lord!" Su Si shouted loudly, rushing through the crowd like an arrow, pressing both hands on Shi Jingzhi's back. "You're all scared by such a small scene, are you capable or not? If you're not helping, then get out of the way!"

The scene was extremely bizarre, even the demonic cult hadn't seen such a stimulating sight. Everyone was originally almost scared out of their wits, but after this person's shout, they somewhat regained their senses—Su Sect Leader's rebuke was so casual, as if this was some ordinary occurrence.

Was the Ku Mountain Sect even more unorthodox than the unorthodox?

"Everyone... ouch, come this way," Yan Qing leaned on the Compassion Stone Sword, grimacing as he cooperated. "That is... is a secret technique of the Mi Mountain Sect. There's no need for alarm! Venerable Juehui, you—"

Monk Juehui understood and coughed twice: "The Immortal Gathering has nurtured evil spirits and harmed the innocent, the evidence is conclusive. These evil spirits are powerful, and we can't guarantee there won't be some lingering harm. Everyone should..."

The old monk spoke these words with deep meaning, and everyone immediately retreated dozens of steps, letting the eminent monks deal with the strange remains on the ground. Monk Juehui shook his head, took off his robe, and draped it over the almost naked master and disciple. Then he also pressed his hand on Shi Jingzhi's shoulder, and deep, gentle energy once again surged into Shi Jingzhi's meridians.

Yin Ci's body had recovered seven or eight tenths, with no trace of injury or ash on his skin. He was in a deep sleep, like a bottomless pit devouring energy. Shi Jingzhi, already having lost a large amount of blood, was now completely drained and looked like he was about to faint. He struggled to keep his back straight, tears, sweat, and blood mixing together, dripping onto Yin Ci's hair.

"Now we've become... more intimate than... hair-binding."

He shakily grasped the tips of Yin Ci's hair and said with difficulty, smiling.

"You promised... a grand wedding procession, winter-end lanterns... don't think... you can get out of it..."

Shi Jingzhi's voice grew fainter and fainter. Just as he was about to close his eyes, scorching fingertips pressed against his lips.

"I remember it all."

Yin Ci opened his eyes, his pupils also showing a faint amber color. His fingertips moved up Shi Jingzhi's cheek, wiping away his tears. His features were full of vitality, with no trace of the previous state of decay. Those eyes swept towards the direction of the National Teacher, suddenly showing a sharp intent.

"However, Your Highness, this subject still has some defeated troops to clean up... may I ask for a few more days?"