Chapter 38: The Abyssal Depths

In the ancient lore, the world was once cloaked in utter darkness. After forty-eight thousand years, a colossal deity named Pangu emerged, and with his immense power, he separated the heavens from the earth, and shaped the mountains and rivers. Another forty-eight thousand years passed, and Nüwa, the primordial goddess, crafted the first humans.

It is said that the first light in the universe was born from the deepest, darkest abyss.

Zhang Xiaofan felt an overwhelming cold, seeping into his very bones. It was a chill that penetrated not just his body, but his very soul, making him feel as if he were on the brink of death.

Yet, strangely, he felt no fear, no terror. Only an overwhelming fatigue gripped him, sapping his strength to the point where even opening his eyes seemed impossible. Strangely, in this state of extreme weariness, his mind began to clear, as if something or someone was gently guiding his thoughts.

It seemed that something was surrounding him, gentle yet cold, like ice, slowly siphoning the warmth from his body. Yet, it also brought a strange, comforting sensation, lulling him into a dreamlike state, making him want to succumb to sleep.

If not for the familiar, icy presence in his right hand, rising protectively, and if not for the sudden realization that his left hand was clasped around another cool, soft hand, he might have drifted off entirely.

Struggling against his exhaustion, Zhang Xiaofan slowly, painfully opened his eyes.

There, in the eternal darkness, was a beam of light!

In the endless, boundless darkness, a soft, white glow appeared before Zhang Xiaofan’s eyes. It was a gentle, ethereal light, floating and twining around him like a tender lover, wrapping him in a delicate, haunting embrace.

The light then transformed, taking the form of a beautiful, melancholic face, which leaned down to kiss the young man’s lips. The lips were fragrant, and the touch was both tantalizing and icy, chilling his heart to the core.

Suddenly, the firewood staff rose, casting a deep azure light that shielded Zhang Xiaofan. The ethereal, phantom-like face, seemingly frightened by the staff’s power, retreated. Startled, Zhang Xiaofan sprang up, realizing what he had seen. He cried out, “Yin spirits!”

Ancient lore tells us that when a person dies, their soul remains. After a lifetime, the soul departs, seeking rebirth, cycling through countless lives in an unending cycle of reincarnation.

However, there are those souls that, driven by greed, anger, and ignorance, and haunted by fear and hatred, cling to the mortal world, unwilling to move on. These are the yin spirits.

Naturally, yin spirits prefer dark, damp places, and the Dead Soul Abyss, with its cold, shadowy depths, was a perfect home for such creatures.

Zhang Xiaofan, having never encountered such things before, felt a chill run down his spine. His voice echoed in the darkness, and moments later, a faint echo returned. As if awakened by his cry, more dim, ghostly lights flickered to life around him.

Zhang Xiaofan’s heart raced, and then, as if time had stopped, he saw a pale, ethereal light, almost identical to the previous yin spirit, flicker in the darkness ahead.

Then, more lights appeared: to the left, to the right, in front, and behind. Even above, the sky lit up with these ghostly glows.

Countless yin spirits, awoken from their long slumber, sensed the warmth of a living human for the first time in centuries, and began to gather around them.

The ethereal lights, drifting and changing, took on countless faces: male, female, old, young, beautiful, and ugly. But in Zhang Xiaofan’s eyes, they all shared one characteristic: a bone-chilling cold.

The thought of being surrounded by these countless yin spirits sent a shiver down his spine. Fortunately, he soon noticed that the yin spirits seemed to fear the deep azure light emanating from the firewood staff, keeping a safe distance.

Before Zhang Xiafoan could breathe a sigh of relief, the yin spirits suddenly shifted, flying towards his left side. He realized that the soft hand in his left was growing colder. Pulling her towards him, he heard a splash, and Lu Xueqi was by his side.

With the faint light around them, Zhang Xiaofan saw that Lu Xueqi’s face was pale, her eyes closed, but her breathing was steady. She seemed unharmed, and he let out a small sigh of relief, looking around to assess their surroundings.

They were near a body of water, though he couldn’t tell if it was a small pond, a large lake, or the vast, fabled underground sea. The water was moving, gentle waves lapping at his body, but it was icy cold.

Zhang Xiaofan stood, feeling dizzy. He had been injured by Nian Laodai, Ye Gou, and Liu Hao, and his injuries were severe. The firewood staff’s light dimmed, and the yin spirits’ lights brightened, revealing their insatiable hunger.

Startled, Zhang Xiaofan steeled himself, and the staff’s light flared, holding the yin spirits at bay. He dragged Lu Xueqi to the shore, the short distance seeming endless. Finally, they reached solid ground, and Zhang Xiaofan collapsed, panting.

Around them, the yin spirits hovered, kept at bay by the staff’s deep azure light. Zhang Xiaofan remembered the last moments before he lost consciousness, and the familiar Buddhist chant that had echoed on the platform.

“Those must be my fellow disciples,” he thought, relieved that their help would keep them safe.

But as he pondered, a question arose: If he died, would Sister Ling’er be sad? Perhaps she would shed a tear, remembering the time they spent together, and her soft, vulnerable side.

In the silent darkness, Zhang Xiaofan sighed, unheard.

Lu Xueqi stirred, her eyes slowly opening. In the ethereal light, she met Zhang Xiaofan’s concerned gaze, the only warmth in the darkness.

“Thank goodness you’re awake, Sister Lu,” Zhang Xiaofan said, smiling.

Lu Xueqi, momentarily stunned, quickly regained her composure, her expression turning cold again. But when she saw the yin spirits, she gasped, “Yin spirits!”

Zhang Xiaofan nodded, reassuring her, “Yes, but don’t worry. They seem to fear my… firewood staff.”

Lu Xueqi, noticing the yin spirits’ hesitation, asked, “What is your treasure called, and why is it so powerful?”

Zhang Xiaofan blushed, “I call it… the firewood staff. I use it to cook at Dazhufeng Peak.”

Lu Xueqi, speechless, stared at the black staff, finally saying, “A firewood staff? I trained hard under my master, and I have the Tianya sword, yet I was defeated by a firewood staff?”

Zhang Xiaofan, noticing her pale face, said, “Sister, you won that day. And I heard that if not for the toll our duel took, you might not have lost to Qi Hao…”

Lu Xueqi, looking at him coldly, cut him off. The ethereal light cast a somber glow on them.

“How did we survive?” Lu Xueqi asked, regaining her composure.

Zhang Xiaofan explained, “When I woke, we were by the water. Maybe the tide washed us ashore.”

Lu Xueqi, looking at the water, thanked him, “Thank you.”

Zhang Xiaofan, flustered, responded, “No problem…”

They both froze, realizing their hands were still clasped. Slowly, Lu Xueqi withdrew her hand, and Zhang Xiaofan, embarrassed, didn’t know where to put his.

Lu Xueqi, checking her condition, found herself weakened but unharmed. She looked at Zhang Xiaofan, who was still struggling with his injuries.

“Can you still fly with your sword?” she asked.

Zhang Xiaofan, wincing, shook his head.

“We need to find a way out,” Lu Xueqi said, “or we’ll be trapped here, drained by these yin spirits.”

Zhang Xiaofan, nodding, followed her. They walked for what felt like an eternity, the darkness seeming endless. The yin spirits, still greedy, continued to hover around them.

As they walked, Zhang Xiaofan’s injuries worsened, and he struggled to keep going. Lu Xueqi, noticing his condition, asked, “Are you alright?”

Zhang Xiaofan, forcing a smile, said, “I’m fine, let’s go.”

But before she could finish, Zhang Xiaofan collapsed, the firewood staff’s light dimming. Lu Xueqi, alarmed, caught him, feeling the coldness of his skin. She realized he had passed out.

For a moment, the calm, composed Lu Xueqi felt a surge of panic. Without the staff, how would they fend off the yin spirits?

Almost simultaneously, the yin spirits, sensing the opportunity, began to converge, their ghostly lights flickering with malevolent intent.