Chapter 532 - When Ghosts Eclipse the Heaven, the Human Emperor Is Just a Piece on the Board - Part 2

Li Yuan returned at once, went straight to Xie Wei and Sheng’er, and told them everything he had discovered. Then he gave a single, urgent order. That was to begin a county-wide evacuation plan immediately.

Gemhill County wasn’t vast, but it still had twelve human settlements. Over the years, many had fled to this place, drawn by tales of Yan Yu’s protection. Now, the population had swelled, countless lives all gathered here.

And the first wave of Yin energy could arrive in just two days.

If this were before, Li Yuan would’ve left a nameless warning letter with one of the local powers, packed up his family, and vanished into the distance.

But this time, he was the local power. He couldn’t abandon the people. These were citizens who lit incense for Yan Yu, who prayed night and day, believing in her sanctuary.

There was no more time. No chance to further investigate the King of Chu or the secrets of the Imperial Human System. He rushed back to Xie Yu’s side to ask to leave once again.

“I need to—” he began softly.

“You have something to do,” Xie Yu finished the sentence for him. Her voice was calm, but her eyes held a quiet pain. “You always have something. So many things.”

“When we first got married,” she said, her voice barely a whisper now, “you locked yourself in seclusion almost immediately. Sometimes for months. Even a year. When I tried to divorce you, you suddenly came back. You brought me traveling, then brought me here to your ancestral home. I thought...I really thought we were going to settle down at last. But now...”

“I’m sorry,” Li Yuan said quietly.

But Xie Yu shook her head. “That’s not what I want to hear.”

Li Yuan lowered his gaze. He knew exactly what she wanted. Not apologies, but trust. She wanted him to include her in everything, to never hide things again. Even if the road ahead was dangerous. But how could he tell her?

Xie Yu wasn’t like Xie Wei. She couldn’t accept a relationship built on lies from the start.

She didn’t know the truth, didn’t know Ximen Gucheng was Li Yuan. She didn’t know that Li Yuan was the old Khagan, and that the old Khagan had supposedly died in the withered flame. She didn’t know how deep this rabbit hole went. She still believed, innocently, that it was perfectly normal for her big sister to be working with Li Yuan and Yan Yu.

How could he even begin to explain?

And yet, he had to leave.

The Court of Judges and Bladeseekers were strong, yes, but not strong enough to hold back a ghost tide like this.

Right now, the only true pillar keeping Gemhill County from collapsing was him.

Only his strength could carve out a path through this disaster and give the hundreds of thousands of people in the county even a sliver of hope.

He and Xie Yu locked eyes in silence.

Just then, with a loud flutter of wings, a crow landed on the window ledge. With a flick of its claws, it lifted the oil-paper window covering.

“Lady Divine Crow!” Xie Yu’s face lit up.

She had seen Sheng’er every year for the past decade, long enough for them to be old friends. Now that she knew there was some kind of connection between her sister and Yan Yu, she felt even closer to the mysterious bird.

The little crow hopped onto Xie Yu’s shoulder and whispered gently, “Let him go. He’s doing something important...for Yan Yu.”

“You...you can talk?!” Xie Yu’s eyes went wide with disbelief.

“Of course!” the crow cawed, smug and cheerful.

Li Yuan let out a quiet breath of relief. He stood, gave one last glance back. His wife and the little crow were already deep in conversation, smiling and chattering as if nothing had happened.

He closed the door softly and left.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Several days later, the people of Gemhill County began their great exodus, thousands moving in waves, fleeing the encroaching tide of death.

It was only possible thanks to the authority of the Court of Judges and the reputation of Sheng’er.

The wind howled down the road in bitter, ghostly gusts.

Above them, the sky was smothered by a murky haze, one that refused to lift no matter how long it lingered. It hung over the earth like a dirty smear across the heavens, swallowing the sun and pressing down on the world like a suffocating hand.

The gloom clawed at everyone’s nerves.

The sixth rank cultivators of the Court of Judges, most of whom came from the Bladeseekers, had taken up the duty of guarding the refugees. They walked in pairs, flanking the long, straggling procession of civilians. Each one was taut with vigilance, ready to strike down the ghost servants that occasionally crawled out from the roadside brush.

Zhao Chunxin walked among them.

She’d traveled far already, and her mind had wandered even farther.

Over the years, she’d secretly glimpsed that mysterious figure who had once come to the Bladeseekers under the guise of helping cure the madness of the sixth rank disciples. And the more she saw him, the more convinced she became of something, something she dared not say aloud.

She

knew

him. She couldn’t name him. Something about it felt taboo, unspeakable. But deep down, she was certain.

Perhaps...the entire lineage of techniques taught in the Bladeseekers—Ruling Blade Blade, Phantom Blade Blade, and Final Blade—had all been his creation.

That would explain the flaws.

Flaws that existed because they were born of one man’s trial and error. But even those flaws had brought undeniable benefit to martial artists. He had given them something they hadn’t had before, a path to grow stronger. A way to extend their lives by a century.

“Ah!”

A cry of surprise pulled her back to reality.

Beside her, an elderly woman stumbled and fell to the ground. Zhao Chunxin reacted instantly, catching the white-haired granny before she hit the dirt.

The woman was deathly pale. The long journey, combined with the malevolent atmosphere, was draining her life faster than age alone ever could.

Zhao Chunxin raised a hand and gestured. Almost immediately, two ordinary disciples from the Bladeseekers rushed over with a physician in tow. They quickly bowed to her before tending to the old woman.

She was upright again a few moments later, but one of the disciples leaned in and whispered to Zhao Chunxin.

“The doctor says...she won’t make it to the refuge. She’s too old. Her body won’t hold up much longer.”

Zhao Chunxin let out a long sigh and lifted her gaze to the horizon.

This caravan, how many people would die before it reached safety?

And those who managed to survive this trek... how long would they live after that?

What kind of world were they even marching toward?

“Where’s my husband? Where’s my husband?!”

From within one of the covered wagons, Xie Yu’s anxious voice kept calling out. She peered through the window flap again and again, her little mouth pouting, worry written all over her face.

No matter how many times she asked, Xie Wei sitting beside her could only deflect with soft words and changing the subject.

Because in truth, she didn’t have an answer either.

This refugee caravan, for all its hardship and looming threats, was not the true danger. The guards could handle stray ghost servants.

The real peril lay further out.

At first, Xie Wei had believed that man was cruel, calculating, and emotionally void. But that opinion had long since changed.

The first time was when he introduced her to the warm snow. And now this, choosing to stay behind.

He’s out there alone, isn’t he? Circling the edges of the caravan, holding back the tide.

Xie Wei’s thoughts were interrupted as a distant mountain ridge suddenly exploded in red light.

A deafening, inhuman wail ripped through the air. It was high-pitched, shrill, yet vast, as if a monstrous horde had screamed as one.

The sound froze the entire refugee line in place.

And then on the mountaintop, they saw it.

A young boy, feet planted on a blazing fireball, red silk streaming from its body, surrounded by ten thousand ghosts. Countless, grotesque, tortured faces pressed and howled against an invisible barrier surrounding the figure.

The infernal child stood alone, wrapped in flame and defiance, against the sea of the dead.

That shimmering boundary formed a wall, an invisible but unbreakable barrier.

And it was that wall that kept the swelling wave of ghost faces at bay. Without it, the ghosts would’ve poured straight down the mountain like a black flood.

Some among the crowd were already trembling uncontrollably, wetting themselves in fear. Others had collapsed to the ground, screaming incoherently.

But anyone with a shred of sense could see. If that ghost tide broke through, at least half of the refugees would die on the spot. And those who didn’t, well, that only meant they’d survive

this

wave. If caught in the next, death would be just as swift.

A few people, gripped by terror to the point of hysteria, became strangely euphoric. They began shouting praises toward the Crimson Flame Child. That was the name they’d given the figure holding back the dead, a new myth birthed in real time.

Most, however, simply hurried on, fear propelling them forward.

And only when the very last person had passed did that crimson wall vanish with a thundering roar.

The ghost tide, held back like water behind a dam, now surged forward in a flood of shrieks and shadows, crashing down the mountain road with a vengeance.

High above, even Li Yuan was showing signs of exhaustion. He took one last glance at the chaos below, then turned and soared toward the next ghost tide.

Of course, Li Yuan wasn’t the only one fighting.

The four Tree’ers were busy too, each of them warding off the dead across different regions.

Back in the carriage, Xie Yu caught a flicker of something in Xie Wei’s eyes as she stared out the window, something like pride, shadowed by worry.

Having known her sister for so long, Xie Yu noticed it instantly.

She suddenly asked, “At a time like this...where’s Brother-in-law?”

Xie Wei replied calmly, “Probably off somewhere I don’t know about, holding back the ghost tide, maybe. I really don’t know.”

Xie Yu murmured, “When will you finally introduce me to him? Since we work for Yan Yu, we must know him, right?”

Xie Wei paused, caught off guard by the question. Then she smiled faintly. “Your brother-in-law doesn’t just have me, you know. He has to keep running around.”

Xie Yu pouted. “Just like our Gucheng then, huh?”

“...” Xie Wei fell silent. Then she let out a nervous laugh, hoping it would cover the chill that ran down her spine.