Chapter Seventy-Seven: Layers of Mist (Fourth Update)

Following Xu Cheng, they journeyed to the outskirts, heading straight for the burial site. Yet they were still too late. Behind the grave, a hole had appeared, clearly indicating that the person buried there had transformed into a specter and escaped.

“Didn’t expect this fellow to get away! Cen Ningyue, Niu Dashuang, I fear this matter must be left to you. The Ghost Messenger Token is closely linked to my Netherworld Token—if anything unusual happens, inform me at once!” Xu Cheng gestured toward the hole behind the grave.

“Understood, Right Envoy!” Cen Ningyue replied respectfully.

“Very well. Mengdie, Chrysanthemum, let’s proceed to the next stop!” Xu Cheng was anxious; should the Xia Dynasty continue to create large numbers of Nascent Soul cultivators, the three of them alone might be unable to fulfill their mission.

In the blink of an eye, the three activated their movement techniques and traveled to the next town.

Their path led them to Wuta Town. As before, they settled nearby. Xu Cheng released the Netherworld Token, drawing in lingering spirits and specters from the vicinity.

In just a short while, dozens of ghosts arrived, though no specters appeared.

Chrysanthemum’s Book of Life and Death proved invaluable; five souls were sentenced to the Mountain of Blades, the Tongue-Pulling Hell, and the Sea of Fire, while the others proceeded to reincarnation.

Though the merit golden light was scant, Xu Cheng was still pleased—it was better than nothing. He now possessed three thousand strands of merit golden light.

Yet an unexpected development arose: from the ghosts, he learned that a formidable expert had appeared near Wuta. Even the six Nascent Soul experts of the Xia Dynasty, united, could not defeat this person; their combined assault could only result in a draw.

“Could it be that this mysterious figure is the same person who appeared in Qinghe Town?” Xu Cheng murmured after sending off the crowd.

“Right Envoy, the situation in Wuta is far less clear than in Qinghe. We’d best proceed cautiously!” Chrysanthemum quickly added. The sudden appearance of such an expert was beyond their expectations.

But what stance this expert might take, they did not know. Should he support Gunzhou City, all would be well. But if he resembled the tree demon from Tian Gui Daoist’s memories, he could be a tremendous threat.

Caution was indeed warranted.

The three disguised themselves. Xu Cheng used a spell to conceal the coffin on his back, making him appear as an ordinary man.

Yan Mengdie, however, struggled to hide herself. Having fused merit golden light into her body, she had undergone another transformation through her cultivation of the Jade Toad Nine Molts Immortal Technique. Her frame now weighed over a ton; every step she took caused the ground to rumble.

This worried them all—her size might expose them. But it was difficult to blame her, given the peculiarities of her magic.

“Never mind, ordinary folk shouldn’t notice anything amiss. But Mengdie, could you perhaps adjust your weight?”

Concerned about the critical nature of their task, Xu Cheng quickly asked.

“Of course!” Yan Mengdie cast a minor spell upon herself, one that rendered her body light and nimble.

Their group now consisted of a massive, three-meter-tall figure and two seemingly frail scholars, attracting the curious gaze of townsfolk as they entered the city.

Yan Mengdie, irritated, thought herself no strange beast—why were people staring? Her two enormous eyes glared back, frightening many into fleeing.

Still dissatisfied, she clenched her colossal fist—nearly the size of an adult’s head—and threatened, “Anyone who keeps staring at me, I’ll gouge your eyes out!”

The onlookers, glancing at her massive fist, dared not speak further, lowering their heads and hurrying on, fearful of being struck.

Witnessing this, Xu Cheng recalled a phrase from his previous life: “I’ll thump your chest with my little fists!” If Yan Mengdie were to do so, it would surely scare someone to death.

Amused, Xu Cheng led his companions to a roadside stall, craving fried dough sticks and steamed buns he hadn’t tasted in ages.

But as a Netherworld Messenger, he could not savor their flavors; the food tasted like bland wax.

Yan Mengdie, however, ate with gusto, devouring one large meat bun after another with terrifying appetite.

“Boss, bring me ten more bowls of noodles!” she declared, slapping the table with enough restraint to avoid breaking it.

“Yes…yes, miss!” The emaciated waiter trembled, clearly frightened by Yan Mengdie.

Lacking any taste, Xu Cheng cursed his current constitution—even a plateful of chili had no effect.

He waited until Yan Mengdie had eaten her fill, costing him thirty taels of silver.

Fortunately, he had ample funds; his Small Sleeve Universe Technique stored plenty of silver, all from the Xia Dynasty’s official treasury.

Were it not for this, Yan Mengdie’s appetite would have emptied his purse in a day.

Afterward, the three strolled through the streets. Xu Cheng asked, “Chrysanthemum, you can’t taste anything either, can you?”

“Right Envoy, our circumstances are unique; earthly food holds no flavor for us—unless…”

Chrysanthemum paused, leaving Xu Cheng hanging.

“Unless what?” Xu Cheng pressed, frustrated by his half-answer.

“Well, if you truly wish to taste earthly food, follow me!” Chrysanthemum replied with a mysterious smile.

He really loved to keep secrets. Xu Cheng felt an urge to punch him, but, eager for a good meal, hurried after him.

Yan Mengdie trailed behind, patting her belly and grinning in delight. They followed Chrysanthemum to the edge of town, finally entering a paper shop.

“Welcome, sirs. What would you like to buy?” An elderly man emerged, appearing to be over seventy years old.

“Make me two memorial tablets, and bring several sticks of incense. You’ll be well paid,” Chrysanthemum said.

“What surnames for the tablets?” the old man asked.

Chrysanthemum didn’t answer directly, instead turning to Xu Cheng, “Boss, what’s your full name?”

“Me? Xu Cheng!” Xu Cheng replied, a bit surprised.

“Chen Andao, Xu Cheng—two tablets!” Chrysanthemum nodded, addressing the old man.

The old man glanced at Chrysanthemum and Xu Cheng in surprise, and seemed to realize something. With a trace of fear, he hurried to the back room, from which came the sounds of carving wood.

The three waited in silence in the paper shop, as Xu Cheng wondered what Chrysanthemum was up to.

After a long while, the old man returned with two wooden tablets, handing them to Chrysanthemum, along with bundles of incense, respectfully placing them in his hands.

“Take care, sirs, safe travels,” the old man said, his voice trembling.

“Old man, you must be paid!” Chrysanthemum smiled, but to the old man, it seemed the smile of a fierce ghost.

He collapsed in fright. Xu Cheng, quick of hand, caught him; the old man was not in mortal danger, just fainted from shock. Xu Cheng used his magic to protect the man’s heart, ensuring he would recover.

“Am I that frightening?” Chrysanthemum asked, touching his face and looking at Xu Cheng.

“Not at all! Leave the money for him,” Xu Cheng replied. He calculated that the items cost ten taels of silver. Placing the coins on the table, the three left the paper shop.