Chapter 193: Death Is Eternal Life

At the same time, the jade ruler in Gu Xiulian’s hand also fell to the ground, intact and unbroken.

The centipede burrowed quickly. Zuo Shan collided with Gu Xiulian, grabbing his neck with both hands. Gu Xiulian panicked—this was the most primitive form of struggle. An eighty-year-old man, devoid of any combat skills, was strangling him with all his might.

In his youth, Zuo Shan had committed grave mistakes due to his temperament, but his desire to return to the Ghost Sect had always lingered. He initially thought snapping the jade ruler would vent his pent-up frustration, but when Gu Xiulian attempted to break it, he was instead reminded of his younger days, galloping through the mountains with the jade ruler in hand.

Seeing the centipede fail to subdue Zuo Shan, Gu Xiulian pressed his hands against his neck, trying to pry them open: “Have you gone mad?”

Little did he know that Zuo Shan, during his time on the Yunnan border, had been bitten by a venomous spider. A mere two centipedes—or even a hundred spiders—would be nothing more than an itch to him.

Zuo Shan laughed deliriously: “Grandpa here once wielded the jade ruler, subduing ghosts and battling zombies. Grandpa here was once a dashing youth too…”

The jade ruler was a precious memory of Zuo Shan’s youth. The torment and inhuman suffering of his later years only deepened his longing for it. So when he saw it about to be broken, he lunged forward. Perhaps even he didn’t know why he did it in that moment.

Gu Xiulian’s face grew paler by the second. In this brutal struggle, he knew he was doomed. Reaching for the dagger that had fallen before him, he muttered, “I didn’t want to kill you. You forced my hand.” With a fierce thrust, the dagger struck Zuo Shan squarely in the heart—precise and merciless.

Zuo Shan spat a mouthful of blood onto Gu Xiulian’s face.

Having been bitten by the spider, Zuo Shan was already a walking toxin. The blood that splattered onto Gu Xiulian’s face immediately caused numbness, followed by a burning, corrosive sensation.

Gu Xiulian howled in agony: “My handsome face! Water, water, water!” Like a madman, his eyes bloodshot, he dashed out of the warehouse, half of his human-face mask peeling off. At the entrance, he rubbed snow onto his burning skin.

Meanwhile, I was locked in a stalemate with Meng Liuchuan.

My chest felt like it would explode. Meng Liuchuan’s ghostly hands and feet lashed out, and from his chest emerged two additional limbs. His mouth now bore a row of blackened teeth—neither human nor ghost.

With a forceful push, I unleashed the Four Symbols Seal, a technique specifically designed to counter such abominations.

Zuo Shan was kicked to the ground. Gu Xiulian’s dagger had struck true, piercing his heart. Zuo Shan chuckled weakly: “Ye Guyi… Master… Ye Guyi… Master… Ye Guyi… Master… Tell me, is my heart red or black? Do you really blame me for what happened back then?” With a pitiful smile, he yanked the dagger from his chest: “I am Chinese.”

The blade flashed, and with a swift motion, he severed the replacement “heirloom” he had acquired in Tokyo, staining his lower body crimson.

“Zuo Shan, I permit you to return to the sect. You remain a disciple of the Ghost Sect,” I shouted.

Zuo Shan’s hand fell limp, the bloodied dagger clattering to the ground. His head drooped, his chest still heaving as he sat motionless.

He was dead, soon frozen stiff by the cold.

Meng Liuchuan lunged at me, only to be repelled several meters by the Four Symbols Seal.

“Watch out!” Yu Yuwei cried, slicing away a dagger aimed at my eye and crippling an advancing ninja by severing his tendons.

Zuo Shan remained still, his blood trickling onto the jade ruler.

The blood was still fresh and red.

Zhang Dagan stood at the rear, unable to advance, guarded by a ninja. With a sudden shove, he broke free, snatched up the jade ruler, and shouted, “Xiao Qi, I’ve got it! I’m giving it back to you—”

Before he could finish, a katana pierced his broad chest, its tip dripping blood. “Xiao Qi, don’t blame me. I did it for… my family…” With a final effort, he hurled the jade ruler toward Jun Ge, trusting him to catch it.

Dagan had once told me about his wife and two children, how they nearly starved during the hardest times. He had met three kind souls who helped them survive. Now, his children were likely grown, perhaps soon to marry and have families of their own.

Abe Lips twisted the blade deeper.

Blood gushed from Dagan’s mouth: “Xiao Qi… My ancestors told me… hunting the mountain boar demon… always demands blood…”

Abe Lips viciously twisted the katana again.

Jun Ge staggered to his feet, catching the jade ruler. Huang Xiaochui had already smashed five ninjas’ knees but bore two throwing knives in his body, barely standing. Yu Yuwei wasn’t faring much better, her leg still bleeding.

As for me, after rescuing Jun Ge and battling Meng Liuchuan, my strength was nearly spent.

Jun Ge shouted, “You killed Dagan!” He charged forward, only for Abe Lips to shoot him in the leg, sending him crashing to the ground.

Meng Liuchuan sighed, “You fool! Never kill those ignorant of the mystic arts unless absolutely necessary. You idiot!” Abe Lips drew a pistol from his waist: “Shut up, cripple! I’ve had enough of you. They might fight well, but can they beat this? Don’t you know? The Golden Triangle is all about money. I wanted to expand in Tokyo, but you refused. If you die here, who’d know? I supported Meng Xiaoyu because her nightclub banned drugs. How could I ignore such a huge market? Do you know how many people are in Jiangcheng? Thirty million, you moron!”

Meng Liuchuan shook his head. “Great-grandfather… Even in a thousand years, the Abe family will never surpass the Ghost Sect.” It seemed he had realized that the honor and reputation he sought meant nothing to the next generation of Abe disciples—only money mattered.

Abe Lips sneered, “This is the age of guns. Ghost-catching arts, corpse-raising techniques—they’re all obsolete. Only this…” he brandished the pistol, “…is the key to eternal victory.”

If anyone still called Abe Lips stupid, I’d vehemently disagree.

The remaining ninjas clearly obeyed him alone.

Dagan stood there, blood streaming from his chest. My eyes stung with tears.

I was born under the sign of the Lone Star of Calamity. If not for me, Dagan wouldn’t have died.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Dagan murmured. “My fate was always tied to the mountain boar demon. Now it’s settled. That fool… You’ll never understand. The Ghost Sect, Xiao Qi… they uphold a spirit you’ll never grasp.” His last words were clear, spoken with his final breath.

I cried out, “Dagan… go in peace.”

Dagan smiled faintly. “Now it’s done. I’ll ask Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva: who bears the sin—the butcher or the one who eats the pork?”

His head slumped, his body standing rigid—yet undeniably lifeless.

Dagan had spent his life pondering a philosophical question: who bore the karma of slaughter—the butcher or the consumer?

Abe Lips scoffed, “I don’t get it. Spirit? Bullshit! If spirit mattered, why couldn’t his precious traditions save him? Why did he die?”

I roared, “Abe Lips! I’ll kill you! Fight me like a man, you coward!”

Meng Liuchuan said nothing more. He returned to his wheelchair and slowly pushed himself out of the warehouse. The snow was deep, footprints scattering—Gu Xiulian had fled to save his face, desperate for a doctor.

Meng Liuchuan wheeled away until a distant splash marked his descent into the river.

Abe Lips laughed maniacally. “Now, what will you fight me with?”

I took the jade ruler from Jun Ge, now stained with the blood of many.

Yu Yuwei said softly, “You can’t die. If you do, I’ll have broken my vow, and I’ll die too. So, for my sake, live.” Her sword was slick with blood, yet her hair remained perfectly styled, her gaze steady and unshaken.

Abe Lips smirked. “The 21st century, and you fools cling to ancient arts.” With a wave, his ninjas raised their rifles—a wall of black barrels.

Huang Xiaochui wiped his copper hammer. “I’ve worked at a construction site near your place for half a year. If you die, tomorrow’s news will report my ‘accidental’ fall from the 20th floor. The compensation will fund an orphanage—I’ve already named it Little Hammer Orphanage.”

I chuckled weakly. “Then I’ll open Big Hammer Elementary next door. The kids can move there after orphanage.”

Jun Ge, clutching his wound, added, “I’ll start Giant Hammer Middle School—for their teens.”

Yu Yuwei couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve taken all the good names. What’s left for me?”

Jun Ge asked if I had any cigarettes left. I shook my head.

Huang Xiaochui rummaged in his dirt-stained bag. “Got some cheap Baisha smokes—four yuan a pack. Take it or leave it.” I grinned. “Why didn’t you say so earlier? Perfect.” The crumpled pack held four remaining cigarettes.

“Oops, one extra,” Huang Xiaochui noted. I laughed. “Not extra. One’s for the dog.”

I lit one for Xiao Jian first, smoke curling around us. Yu Yuwei smiled. “Gather close. Let’s take a photo.” She raised her phone. Jun Ge stood center, smoothing his hair and flashing a cheesy peace sign. Huang Xiaochui hefted his hammer, striking a tough-guy pose. I cradled Xiao Jian and Xiao Mao; the former held the cigarette in his mouth, eyes narrowed coolly, while the latter coiled her tail around herself. Yu Yuwei puffed her cheeks, adopting a cute expression, phone outstretched.

Positions set.

“One, two, three… Say cheese!”