The Invincible Female Ghost Is A Bit Of A Hopeless Romantic

The shadowy man stood before the gate of Northern Guan Righteous Manor.

He did not turn around, only raised one hand, pointing toward the depths of the manor.

"You've finally come."

His voice was not loud, yet it seemed to emerge from the deepest heart of the mountain, carrying the dull rumble of stone grinding against stone.

Meng An trembled all over.

"This is a gate-guarding form pieced together by the head altar using Daoist Lu's shadow."

Lu Yuan did not answer.

He stared at the red mark on the man's brow.

The red mark was not cinnabar, but a "knot" twisted from seven red cords.

The other four cords ran along the man's neck, chest, and legs, extending backward until they vanished into the manor's threshold.

"It turned my shadow into a person standing here."

Lin Zhaoxuan lowered his voice:

"There's a door-line inside the shadow."

"It's not that there's a door-line inside the shadow," Lu Yuan said.

"It's that the door-line borrowed the shadow to take form."

He raised his right hand, pressing his thumb against the first joint of his middle finger, his index finger slanting toward the ground, his ring and little fingers tucked into his palm, forming the "Shadow-Viewing Form-Discernment Seal."

"Shadow follows the body, form follows the name."

"He who borrows a shadow may not borrow the heart."

"He who borrows a form may not borrow the soul."

"If the one before us is not the true owner's form—"

"Shadow, retreat!"

As the incantation fell, the bronze lamp's flame abruptly leaped upward.

The man's face began to ripple.

Eyebrows, eyes, nose bridge, the corners of his mouth—layer by layer they peeled away, until what remained was a pale face soaked and bloated by water.

The pale face had no features, only a single thin, long slit.

"Didn't you already know?"

"Knowing you're fake isn't the same as knowing where you came from."

Lu Yuan drove his broken blade into the snow.

"Northern Guan Righteous Manor isn't your root."

"Neither is the mountain-belly master."

"The righteous well of Ma family gully is just a place where you re-condensed your form."

"Your true feeding ground is here, isn't it?"

The faceless shadow let out a low laugh.

"You've already reached the door. Why still ask?"

"I ask so you'll admit it yourself."

"You've never admitted anything."

"You only borrow the names of the dead, the wishes of the living, and the shell of the Malevolent Deity."

"If you were truly a god, why would you need to borrow an altar at every single stop?"

Inside the manor, all seven white lamps shook at once.

The wooden tablets beneath the lamps turned toward Lu Yuan one after another.

"Mountain-belly Main Cave."

"Xiaoman Stockade."

"Ma family gully."

"Northern Guan Righteous Manor."

One by one, spirit tablets floated out from the darkness, each inscribed with the same seven characters:

"Name, Wish, Life, Death, Home, Shadow, Offering."

But on every tablet, only the character "Offering" was bright red like blood.

Lu Yuan stared at those tablets, then suddenly said:

"You are not the master of the seven offering lines."

"You are the offering lines themselves."

"People's names were taken by you, their wishes rewritten by you, their life and death inverted by you, their homes forged by you, their shadows dragged into the well by you."

"In the end, all the offering lines tangled together, and a face grew out of them."

"The 'god' you speak of is a disease that the offering system grew on its own."

The faceless shadow's slit slowly stretched into a grin.

"Disease?"

"If people want to live, they must offer."

"If people want peace, they must fear."

"If people have family, they have attachments."

"If people have attachments, they make wishes."

"I only keep their wishes safe for them."

"You turned their wishes into debts."

Lu Yuan stepped forward.

"They wished for grain, and you took their children."

"They wished for roads, and you took their names."

"They wished for their families' safety, and you stuffed the voices of the dead back into the well."

"You don't collect wishes."

"You teach people to feed you with themselves."

The faceless shadow abruptly raised its hand.

Seven red cords shot out from beneath the threshold, wrapping around Lu Yuan's feet, wrists, throat, and chest.

Song Qinghe immediately lowered the bronze lamp, its flame skimming the snow as it burned a ring of green fire.

"Lu Yuan, the red lines have entered the formation!"

"Zhaoxuan, seal the seven lines, don't seal the gate!"

Lin Zhaoxuan took out his ink-line, bit the tip of his finger, and smeared blood onto the cord.

Holding the line in his right hand, he formed the "Heavenly Firmament Line-Locking Seal" with his left.

Index and middle fingers extended straight, thumb pressing down on the ring finger, fingertips pointing downward, touching the ground seven times in succession.

"Ink is the boundary, cinnabar is the proof."

"The line does not pull the living, the line does not pull the soul."

"It only pulls evil contracts, not the original life-thread."

"Seven lines return to their positions, each seeking its own master."

"Lock!"

The ink-line shot out, catching all seven red cords precisely.

Where the red cords met the ink line, wisps of black smoke rose.

But one of the lines had already looped around Lu Yuan's wrist and burrowed into his flesh.

The wooden tablet on that line read:

"Lu Yuan, return home."

The shadow's voice sounded low:

"You refuse to acknowledge a home."

"So I'll build a home for you."

"You refuse to acknowledge a father."

"So I'll establish a father for you."

"You refuse to acknowledge a hometown."

"So I'll find a village road for you."

Suddenly, a dim yellow lamplight flickered to life inside the manor.

In the light, a courtyard appeared that Lu Yuan had never seen before.

In the courtyard stood an old locust tree, and beneath the tree was a dining table.

Several people sat around the table.

A middle-aged man sat with his back to him, a bowl of wine in his hand.

A woman was scooping rice by the stove.

And a child of ten or so crouched on the threshold, looking up and calling:

"Big brother, you're back."

Lu Yuan stood motionless in the snow.

The woman turned around, her face wearing a gentle expression that was completely unfamiliar to his memory, yet inexplicably familiar.

"Yuan'er, it's cold out there. Come inside and eat."

Xu Erxiao couldn't see the courtyard, but he heard Lu Yuan's breathing grow heavy.

"Senior brother?"

"Don't come over."

Lu Yuan closed his eyes, his fingers digging into his palm.

"This isn't an illusion."

"It stole an empty space from my shadow, then filled it with voices gathered from the mountains."

"It can't create a home out of nothing."

"It can only piece together the unfinished thoughts in a person's heart."

The shadow laughed.

"Don't you want to know who they are?"

"I do."

Lu Yuan opened his eyes.

"But wanting to know doesn't mean I have to acknowledge them."

He raised his hand, forming the "Illusion-Breaking Truth-Returning Seal."

His left palm faced inward, thumb pressing the middle finger; his right index and middle fingers lay horizontally before his brow, then both hands crossed, one above the other.

"See a house but not acknowledge the house, see kin but not acknowledge the kin."

"Whatever uses things that never happened to impersonate the family of old years."

"Whatever uses voices without proof to impersonate blood kin."

"Where the illusion arose, there let it return."

"Disperse!"

The dining table, the old locust tree, and those people in the courtyard split apart all at once.

What split apart was not a scene, but sheets of red paper.

The red paper was covered in strangers' wishes:

"Wish for a house where I can eat."

"Wish for someone to call me home."

"Wish for someone to remember me after death."

"Wish to no longer walk the snowy road alone."

These wishes were stacked upon one another, precisely the material the Malevolent Deity used to piece together a "home."

Lu Yuan raised his blade and flicked the red papers off one by one.

"Wishes return to their owners."

"Homes return to their original places."

"False kin, step aside."

"Return!"

The red papers turned to white smoke and scattered toward the mountains beyond.

The red cord wrapped around his wrist loosened at once.

But the manor's great gate suddenly burst inward.

Behind the gate was not a building, but a colossal mountain-belly cavern.

From the cavern's ceiling hung hundreds of wooden tablets, each with a red cord dangling below, and at the end of the cords lay a black stone platform.

On the platform was enshrined a fist-sized black stone.

The black stone had no eyes, no mouth.

Only one character carved upon it:

"Wish."

Mister Meng stared at the black stone, his expression shifting drastically.

"That's the black stone core from Root Temple?"

"It's not the same one," Lu Yuan said.

"That one at Root Temple is the heart."

"This one is the wish."

"The Malevolent Deity split its offering system into seven locations."

"Name is on the tablets."

"Wish is in the stone."

"Life is in the lamps."

"Death is in the well."

"Home is in the temple."

"Shadow is in the gate."

"Offering is at the altar."

"As long as the seven locations aren't united, it can't truly condense into a god."

Wang Cheng'an said: "But now all seven are connected."

"It's borrowing my shadow to assemble the altar."

Lu Yuan stepped into the manor gate.

"So I'll sever the shadow first."

Outside the gate, everyone shouted their names in unison.

One by one, the voices pierced through the threshold like invisible nails, pinning themselves behind Lu Yuan.

With every step Lu Yuan took, a white footprint appeared beneath his foot.

Meanwhile, the shadow behind him was left outside the gate, slamming against the threshold in a frenzy.

"Don't come in!"

"If you come in, you enter the altar!"

"Entering the altar means becoming the offering master!"

"The offering master must receive offerings!"

Lu Yuan did not turn around.

"I'm entering your root."

"Not your altar."

Around the stone platform stood seven wooden pillars.

Each pillar was pasted with a yellow talisman, inscribed respectively:

"Collecting Names."

"Collecting Wishes."

"Collecting Life."

"Collecting Death."

"Collecting Homes."

"Collecting Shadows."

"Collecting Offerings."

Among them, the pillar marked "Collecting Shadows" had already begun to glow with black light.

Lu Yuan walked to the pillar, took out his ink-line, and wrapped it around the pillar three times.

His right hand formed the "Shadow-Severing Seal."

Index and middle fingers extended straight, thumb pressing against the base of the index finger, left hand supporting the right elbow, blade pointing downward.

"The shadow is born from the body, not from evil."

"The shadow may follow the form, but it cannot be separated from its master."

"You borrowed my shadow to make your gate."

"Today, it returns to me."

"Sever!"

The broken blade fell, and the wooden pillar's outer layer split open, but it did not topple.

Inside the pillar was revealed a black humanoid figure.

The figure was identical to Lu Yuan, even holding a broken blade in its hand.

It looked up, its voice exactly Lu Yuan's own:

"If you cut me down, you admit that I am you."

Lu Yuan did not strike again.

He sheathed his blade and instead pressed a copper coin against the figure's brow.

"Same form does not mean same name."

"Same voice does not mean same heart."

"Same shadow does not mean same body."

"You are only a stolen fragment of my origin."

"Now, I recognize you."

The black figure froze.

Lu Yuan raised his left hand, forming the "Shadow-Recognition Seal."

"I acknowledge that you were once my shadow."

"But you no longer walk in my place."

"I acknowledge that you once shared my fears."

"But you no longer make wishes for me."

"I acknowledge that you stand behind me."

"But you are not within me."

"Return!"

The black figure's brow split open.

A wisp of shadow slipped out of the wooden pillar, following the ink-line back out through the gate.

The shadow outside was no longer towering. It gradually shrank into a normal pool of shadow at Lu Yuan's feet.

The wooden tablet inscribed "Lu Yuan, return home" snapped in half on its own.

The shadow pillar lost its black light and crashed to the ground.

Only six of the seven wooden pillars remained.

The "Wish" character on the black stone platform suddenly turned red.

Countless voices echoed from the cavern's ceiling:

"I wish my family peace."

"I wish to escape the calamity of war."

"I wish for grain."

"I wish for someone to claim my body after death."

"I wish my child doesn't die young."

Every wish was real.

And precisely because they were real, the black stone only grew brighter.

Song Qinghe shouted from outside the gate:

"Lu Yuan, there are too many wishes. You can't suppress them by force!"

"I know."

Lu Yuan took a bowl of clear water from his ink-line box.

It was well water drawn from the old well at Xiaoman Stockade before they set out, purified with cinnabar.

He poured the clear water before the black stone, forming the "Wish-Returning Flow-Dividing Seal" with both hands.

"Wishes rise from the heart, they do not enter the stone's heart."

"Those seeking grain return to the stove, those seeking clothing return to the body."

"Those seeking kin return to kin, those seeking roads return to roads."

"The dead return to earth, the living return to the sun."

"Whatever is not an evil wish shall not feed the black stone."

"Divide!"

The clear water spread along the stone platform's grain.

Every trail of water carried away a wisp of black qi.

The wishes in the cavern began to scatter.

"Peace" fell onto each household's threshold.

"Grain" fell onto the stoves.

"Claiming the dead" fell into the communal graves.

"Reunion" fell into the memories of the living.

The red light on the black stone gradually dimmed.

But one final wisp of black qi refused to disperse.

It was an extremely faint wish:

"Wish for Lu Yuan to stay."

Lu Yuan stood before the stone platform, silent for a long time.

This one was not made by anyone else.

It was drawn out from his own shadow.

He had never been willing to admit that he did, in fact, harbor the thought of staying.

Not because of the Malevolent Deity, not because of any spell, and not because he wanted to be anyone's god.

It was simply that, on this unfamiliar land, there were finally people who would call his name when he walked too far away.

The black qi crept up over his shoe.

"You see."

"Even your wish is here."

"Admit it."

"You want to stay."

Lu Yuan looked down at that wisp of black qi.

"I admit it."

The black qi brightened instantly.

"I admit I want to stay."

"Then it belongs to you."

"Yes."

Lu Yuan raised his hand and pressed that wisp of black qi back into his own chest.

"My wish, I'll collect it myself."

"You don't need to offer it for me."

"Wish returns to the original heart!"

The black qi sank into his chest, and beside the green character "Life," an extremely fine white mark floated up.

It was not an evil seal, but a new line.

Lu Yuan wrote in cinnabar on his own palm:

"Wish, self-held."

Then he pressed his palm against the black stone.

"Wishes shall not be offerings."

"The heart shall not be a lamp."

"If I wish to stay, I stay."

"If I wish to leave, I leave."

"You have no right to act for me."

"Disperse!"

The black stone exploded.

No fragments flew out, only a mass of black flame rushing toward the cavern's ceiling.

The seven offering lines all materialized at once, each connecting to a different offering ground deep within the mountain.

Six of them had already gone dark.

Only the "Offering" line still glowed, its end leading deeper still.

Lu Yuan saw a spirit tablet hanging at the end of that line.

The tablet read:

"Old Altar Master."

Mister Meng's body trembled violently.

"Who is the Old Altar Master?"

"He's the first person to bring the offering methods beyond the Great Wall."

"He wasn't the mountain god?"

"No."

Mister Meng stared at the tablet, then spoke slowly:

"My father once said, in the winter of the ninth year of the Republic, those thirty-seven nameless corpses were not naturally frozen to death."

"Someone led them into the mountains, saying there was a god within who could protect life."

"The one who led the way was the Old Altar Master."

"What was his name?"

"No one ever saw his face."

"Then did he have a name at all?"

Mister Meng raised his head, fear surfacing in his eyes.

"My father only remembered one sentence."

"The Old Altar Master said he had no name."

Lu Yuan looked at that spirit tablet.

"Nameless again."

"But this time, it's different."

He walked to the offering line and examined the fine patterns on it closely.

"The Malevolent Deity before had no name of its own, so it could only borrow people's names."

"But the Old Altar Master might have been the earliest living person."

"He hid his own name, so the offering system that came after could never be held accountable."

"He wasn't nameless."

"He abandoned his name of his own accord."

From the depths of the darkness, footsteps suddenly echoed.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

An old man in a worn long robe emerged from behind the cavern.

His face was covered by white cloth, and in his hand he held a black wooden staff.

At the top of the staff was not a head, but an upturned copper bowl.

The old man stopped at the center of the seven offering lines.

"Lu Yuan."

"You arrived faster than the previous times."

Lu Yuan raised his blade.

"Old Altar Master."

The old man smiled.

"That title sounds decent enough."

"What's your name?"

"You already know. I have no name."

"I'm asking for the name you had originally."

The old man did not answer.

Lu Yuan held three copper coins in his left hand, forming the "Name-Tracing Root-Inquiring Seal" with his right.

His index and middle fingers clamped the coins, his thumb pressing over each coin hole one by one.

"Names come from the mother's womb, surnames are set by the family gate."

"People have birth times, the earth has landing places."

"If you are a living person, you must have an origin."

"If you are a dead shadow, you must have a burial place."

"If the name has been stripped, use old belongings as a guide."

"If the root has been sealed, use a relative's words as proof."

"Inquire the root!"

The three copper coins landed one after another.

The first landed face-up, revealing a character: "Liang."

The second stood on its edge, revealing: "Cheng."

The third spun on the snow for a long time before finally coming to rest.

The back of the coin was covered in black blood writing, with only the final character still legible:

"Lin."

"Liang Chenglin," Lu Yuan said.

The old man's body jerked violently.

Meng An looked at him.

"You're the cart driver?"

The old man slowly raised his hand and peeled away the white cloth covering his face.

A withered face was revealed.

His right ear was missing a corner.

It was the same man from the bronze mirror.

"It was me."

"You sent thirty-seven nameless corpses into the mountains."

"I sent them to seek life."

"Did you know they would be offered up?"

"I only knew they had no road."

"You told them there was a god in the mountains."

"Back then, there was no god in those mountains."

"So you created one?"

Liang Chenglin looked at the place where the black stone had shattered.

"I didn't create it."

"They did."

"Some sought grain, some sought shelter, some sought kin, some sought burial after death."

"They put their wishes into a jar."

"A black stone grew out of the jar."

"The black stone needed more wishes."

"So I kept finding people for it."

"In the end, you fed yourself into it too."

"Because I owed them a road."

Lu Yuan said: "You're not repaying a debt."

"You're using more people's lives to prove that your choice back then wasn't wrong."

Liang Chenglin's face went pale.

"If I stop, all those people before will have died for nothing."

"That's the earliest offering phrase of the Malevolent Deity."

Lu Yuan raised his blade, pointing at him.

"Using the dead as an excuse to keep harming the living."

"Using old wishes as a warrant to forcibly renew the contract."

"You weren't guarding the altar."

"You are the first hand of the offering system."

The copper bowl in Liang Chenglin's hand began to tremble.

"Then how will you sever me?"

"I have no name."

"You do."

Lu Yuan walked up to him.

"Liang Chenglin."

"That is your name."

"And it is also the sin you must bear."

"If you acknowledge your name, the evil altar loses its first layer of concealment."

Liang Chenglin took a step back.

"I can't acknowledge it."

"If I do, I'll no longer be the altar-keeper."

"You never were."

"I am a life-protector!"

"Who exactly did you protect?"

Liang Chenglin opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Lu Yuan raised his left hand, forming the "Sin-Acknowledging Name-Returning Seal."

"Liang Chenglin, from Hebei."

"Entered beyond the Great Wall in the ninth year of the Republic."

"Escorted thirty-seven nameless corpses into Northern Guan."

"Established the first altar under the banner of protecting life."

"Used the masses' wishes as fuel to raise a nameless Malevolent Deity."

"All subsequent offerings passed through your hands."

"The sin is yours, and the name is yours."

"Today, I won't borrow divine judgment."

"I'll only make you acknowledge it yourself."

Liang Chenglin's body began to tremble.

At the cavern's ceiling, all seven offering lines tightened at once.

From the darkness, the Malevolent Deity's voice rang out:

"Don't acknowledge it."

"If you do, you'll die."

Liang Chenglin said in a low voice:

"I'm already dead."

"You're just afraid that after death, you'll have nowhere to go."

Liang Chenglin looked at the stone platform.

"I'm afraid that they'll have nowhere to go either."

Lu Yuan said:

"Then give the places back to them."

"Not an evil altar."

"But their own names, their own graves, and the human world they left behind."

Liang Chenglin gripped his black wooden staff tightly, and finally raised his head.

"My name is Liang Chenglin."

"I come from Hebei."

"On the twenty-third day of winter in the ninth year of the Republic, I escorted thirty-seven nameless corpses into the mountains."

"I tricked them into believing there was a god in the mountains."

"I tricked the living into lighting lamps, and tricked the dead into guarding gates."

"I used other people's wishes to raise a thing without a name."

"I was wrong."

As those final three words fell, the entire mountain belly fell into silence.

The "Offering" characters on the seven offering lines peeled off one by one.

Liang Chenglin's brow split open, revealing a black wooden tablet.

On the tablet were carved three characters:

"First Offering."

Lu Yuan used his broken blade to lift the tablet.

"The First Offering returns to its name."

"The First Wish returns to its owner."

"The First Altar returns to the earth."

"Liang Chenglin, do you return your wish?"

Liang Chenglin gazed into the depths of the cavern.

"I do."

"How?"

"Carve my name back onto the thirty-seven nameless tablets."

"Release them from the altar."

"Lastly, leave me at the gate."

Lu Yuan asked:

"You want to guard the gate?"

"Not guard the gate."

Liang Chenglin shook his head.

"I want to stand at the gate and tell everyone who comes after that there is no god here."

"Only a group of dead people who were tricked in here, and one living man who tricked them."

Lu Yuan looked at him for a moment, then pressed the "First Offering" tablet into the ground.

"Fine."

He turned and shouted toward the gate:

"Zhaoxuan, the ink-line!"

Lin Zhaoxuan tossed the ink-line into the cavern.

Lu Yuan caught it, pulled out the black cord, and, with Liang Chenglin at the center, laid out the "Reverse Offering Seven-Star Formation" on the ground.

Heavenly Pivot set the name, Heavenly Jade set the wish, Heavenly Mechanism set life, Heavenly Balance set death, Jade Scale set home, Opening Yang set shadow, Shaking Light set offering.

After the seven lines were set, Lu Yuan formed the "Reverse Offering Seal" with both hands.

"Name shall not be incense."

"Wish shall not be fire."

"Life shall not be collateral."

"Death shall not be a gate."

"Home shall not be a net."

"Shadow shall not be a road."

"Offering shall not be a god."

"Seven characters return to their roots, the evil altar returns to the earth."

"Break!"

All seven offering lines snapped at once.

A tremendous rumble echoed from deep within the mountain.

The wooden tablets on the stone walls fell one after another, and upon landing, they no longer read "Collect," "Sacrifice," or "Return," but full, complete names.

Thirty-seven nameless spirit tablets flew out of the darkness, circling slowly around Liang Chenglin.

Someone called for their father.

Someone called for their child.

Someone called out their own name.

Liang Chenglin knelt on the ground, his forehead pressed against the snowmelt.

"All of you, go home."

"I remember you."

The final spirit tablet landed before him.

Upon it was carved:

"Liang Chenglin, stands here as witness."

Liang Chenglin raised his hand and pressed it onto the tablet.

His black robe peeled away from his body, revealing a worn cotton coat beneath, frozen stiff long ago.

His body gradually turned transparent, yet it did not scatter into black smoke.

Pillar after pillar of white light rose behind him, passed over Lu Yuan, and flew out of the mountain belly.

Beyond the mountains, in the directions of Ma family gully, Xiaoman Stockade, and the Birch Forest, faint cooking smoke rose one after another.

Not offering lamps.

Hearth fires.

Lu Yuan knew that the Malevolent Deity's "Home" line had been separated once more.

But just as the final pillar of white light was about to leave, an extremely thin red line suddenly shot out from the shattered black stone fragments, coiling around Lu Yuan's ankle.

Dangling from that line was a wooden tablet the size of a fingernail.

On the tablet were written two characters:

"Remaining Altar."

Liang Chenglin saw it, and his expression changed drastically.

"There's one more place."

"Where?"

"The mountain hollow to the north."

"What place exactly?"

"The Old Logging Ground."

"What does it offer?"

Liang Chenglin opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

A black nail floated up in his throat.

Lu Yuan struck Liang Chenglin's brow with the back of his blade.

"Speak."

Liang Chenglin finally forced out two words:

"Offering shadows."

"Whose shadows?"

Liang Chenglin looked at Lu Yuan's feet.

The shadow that had already returned to its place suddenly extended one extra inch behind him.

"Everyone who has ever left the mountains."

"Their shadows all remain at the Old Logging Ground."

Lu Yuan picked up the "Remaining Altar" tablet, stored it in his ink-line box, and weighed it down with three copper coins.

"Of the Malevolent Deity's seven offering grounds, six are severed."

"This final one is not in the stockade, not in the well, not in the manor."

"It's hidden on the road by which the mountain people came."

Xu Erxiao gripped his short sword.

"How far is the Old Logging Ground from here?"

"Over the Northern Ridge, twenty li."

"Then let's go."

Mister Meng looked at Liang Chenglin, who was gradually fading.

"What about Meng An?"

"He's still here."

Lu Yuan turned around.

By the lamp stand, Meng An was still kneeling.

The black wound on his palm had closed, but in his hand there was now a small green lamp.

The lamp's flame was faint, and within the wick reflected a woman's name:

"Li Xiulan."

Meng An clutched the lamp and stood up.

"Can I come with you to the Old Logging Ground?"

Mister Meng said urgently: "An'er, come back to the stockade with me."

Meng An shook his head.

"My mother's name is still in this lamp."

"It only gave back half of her to me."

Lu Yuan looked at the lamp.

"What else is in it?"

Meng An lowered his head.

Deep within the flame, besides "Li Xiulan," another blurry character floated.

"Shadow."

Lu Yuan understood.

Li Xiulan's name had been returned, and her wish had been returned.

But her shadow was still being held at the Old Logging Ground.

"Bring the lamp."

"Your mother's shadow-line is on the Northern Ridge."

Mister Meng opened his mouth, but in the end, he did not stop them.

Lu Yuan had Song Qinghe put away the bronze lamp, and placed Meng An's small lamp in the center of the group.

As they walked out of Northern Guan Righteous Manor, Liang Chenglin was already gone.

On both sides of the manor gate stood thirty-seven new wooden tablets, facing outward, their inscriptions clear.

No incense, no offering table, no red cords.

Only an old tablet was nailed at the very top:

"This place does not enshrine gods. It only remembers the dead."

The wind and snow blew past, and the wooden tablets clattered softly.

Lu Yuan paused at the manor gate, raised his hand, and formed the "Name-Sealing Seal."

"The dead have names, evil cannot borrow them."

"The old altar is broken, but the remaining lines are not yet severed."

"Today I seal their names, tomorrow I will trace their roots."

"The gate is here, but the road is not."

"Seal!"

Cinnabar dripped down from the top of the gate, drawing a square frame around the five characters "Northern Guan Righteous Manor."

As the frame took shape, Lu Yuan suddenly heard someone behind him say:

"Lu Yuan."

He did not turn around.

It was his own voice.

But this time, the one calling him was not the Malevolent Deity.

It was his own shadow.

The shadow lay flat against the snow, slowly crawling toward the Northern Ridge.

Xu Erxiao asked: "It's moving again?"

"Yeah."

"What did it say?"

Lu Yuan looked toward the Old Logging Ground in the north, gripping his blade tightly.

"It said the last offering ground already knows we're coming."

Asheng carried the small lamp, its flame flickering.

Within the wick, beside Li Xiulan's name, a line of tiny black characters floated up:

"He who returns the shadow must first return to the mountain."

On the distant Northern Ridge, a row of dim yellow lights suddenly flickered to life.

Between the lights hung countless human silhouettes.

Those shadows had no bodies, only heads and limbs, hanging upside down from old tree branches.

They swayed back and forth with the wind and snow, like a banner the mountain forest had claimed.

Lu Yuan raised his hand, signaling everyone to stop.

"From now on, do not step on anyone else's shadow."

"If a shadow enters the forest, it will recognize a master."

"Whoever's shadow is touched by a branch, immediately speak your full name."

Zhou Heng asked: "If we speak it, can we come back?"

"If you speak it, it will know you're still alive."

"And if we don't?"

Lu Yuan gazed at those upside-down shadows.

"Then it will speak a name for you."

"And when that happens, even the living will be collected as offerings by the Old Logging Ground."

He pressed the ink-line box against his chest and strode toward the Northern Ridge.

"Move out."

"Sever the shadow-lines first."

"Then find the last face of the Malevolent Deity."

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!