In the morning, the sky over Beijing was still bright and sunny. Just past noon, dark clouds quickly surged from all directions, like a massive black curtain covering the sky, pressing down on this international metropolis of twenty million people.
A storm was brewing, and the whole city was filled with ominous winds.
The warehouse doors and windows were tightly shut, locked with heavy chains. Under the dim light, everyone inside huddled together, faces full of fear.
Outside the windows, shadowy, ghost-like figures pressed close—grayish shapes in the overcast gloom. They whimpered and scratched at the doors and windows. The iron rolling shutter had already been clawed with deep scratches; the glass windows, protected by security nets, were still intact for now, but the harsh sound of metal scraping meant they wouldn’t hold out much longer.
Situ Yingzhi crouched in a corner of the warehouse, tearing off his shirt to bind his bloodied right arm, sighing, “This is Hermès, you know…”
The young policeman he had saved stood nearby, tears of gratitude in his eyes, quickly apologizing, “Thank you, Team Leader Situ, I’ll pay you back for the shirt.” But upon hearing the word “Hermès,” he was struck dumb, as if struck by thunder: “Te-Team Leader Situ—”
“None of your business,” Situ Yingzhi said. “I was careless. Didn’t expect a corpse that rotten to still turn into a walking corpse.”
Yu Jingzhong’s face was as cold as water as he held a cigarette between his lips and asked, “What the hell is going on outside?”
Suddenly, with a sharp screech, the rolling shutter was clawed again, producing a long scratch—about to break through. Panic spread instantly. Everyone turned their guns toward the door. The two team members up front managed to hold their ground, but the policemen behind were so frightened they couldn’t even hold their weapons properly. Several rookies trembled uncontrollably, on the verge of accidentally firing their guns.
It was understandable. They had originally been seconded to investigate a warehouse homicide and dumping. No one expected that as soon as the corpse was unearthed from the concrete wall, the sky would turn dark, ominous wails would echo from all sides, and a horde of things neither human nor ghost would suddenly crawl from the earth, staggering to surround the abandoned warehouse.
No police had ever seen such a scene. Those with vivid imaginations immediately thought of the newly released “Resident Evil: Zombie Siege.” If Team Leader Situ and Deputy Director Yu hadn’t been at the front line holding firm, they might have scared themselves into wetting their pants.
“That unlucky guy here—” Situ Yingzhi pointed to a nearly skeletal corpse behind them, “was killed here two months ago. Someone performed a ritual on his body, using him as the core to create a very powerful ‘Four-Sided Walking Corpse Formation.’ Near this warehouse is an old Qing Dynasty-era burial ground. The buried bones underground are drawn to the formation’s core, slowly crawling from the earth toward the warehouse—that’s what’s surrounding us right now.”
“What’s the purpose of this formation?” Yu Jingzhong asked.
“To gather death energy, using the underground earth veins beneath this warehouse as conduits to transmit the death energy to the person controlling the main formation. If we hadn’t removed the corpse from the concrete wall, within seven days, corpses from a thousand-mile radius would have crawled here. The amount of death energy gathered would be terrifying—enough to envelop half of Beijing in a thick mist.”
Yu Jingzhong’s eyelids twitched: “That Liao guy is just a privileged ‘Red Second Generation’ brat. What’s he trying to do, stir up trouble or seize power?”
Situ Yingzhi shook his head: “The power of this Four-Sided Walking Corpse Formation is beyond your imagination. Look at how quickly the corpses are gathering. Even I couldn’t manage something this strong—at least it’s at the level of Old Zhou… The Liao guy is just a pawn being manipulated by an even bigger dark hand behind the scenes.”
Outside, the slow dragging footsteps and scratching grew louder and more intense. Yu Jingzhong looked around and asked, “Did you notify Zhou Hui?”
“I just sent him a message. He said he probably found the person controlling the formation but can’t leave his current affairs to come here. He’s sent a team to support us.” Situ Yingzhi pondered, “The most important thing now is to find out why they are collecting so much death energy—and how to break this Four-Sided Walking Corpse Formation.”
Just as he was about to search the corpse for more clues, a wild, harsh howl erupted outside, followed by a loud crash as the rolling shutter was slammed with tremendous force!
The nearest young policeman immediately lost control of his gun, and with a “bang!” the weapon accidentally fired!
“Fuck!” several people cursed simultaneously. Glass shattered as several black, decayed hands reached in through the security net, grabbing the closest policeman to the window.
The young policeman screamed in agony, and the next moment, Yu Jingzhong dropped his cigarette, stomped it out, pulled his gun from his waist, and fired—shooting off one of the decayed hands just over ten steps away!
The young policeman rolled and fell to the ground, but at that moment, the rolling shutter was pushed down by countless skeletal hands with a great crash!
Countless rotten corpses surged in. Several policemen who were unprepared were grabbed; some were almost completely swallowed by the decaying bodies. Gunfire erupted inside the warehouse. Everyone roared, desperately pulling triggers, but many of the decayed corpses, when shot, merely fell back, then staggered up again missing limbs or parts of their bodies, making no real reduction in their numbers.
Amidst the fierce gunfire, ammunition quickly ran out. Several corpses took advantage to crawl forward and grab a policeman’s leg. Two steps away, Yu Jingzhong smashed a decayed corpse’s skull with the butt of his gun, then threw away the empty weapon. Using his bare hands, he grabbed another corpse trying to tear at the policeman, slammed it against the wall with a heavy thud, and the corpse’s neck snapped cleanly at a right angle.
“Deputy Yu!” the policeman gratefully shouted. But more corpses came snarling and crawling, their hideous faces pressing so close they jostled each other to reach him.
“Duck—down—!” A shout approached rapidly. A young member of Team One dashed forward, almost stepping on everyone’s shoulders and heads. Without touching the ground, he leapt into the air. In his hand appeared a dazzling silver noose. The rope’s head was tied between four fingers; the tail swept across in a fan shape, whipping up a bloody mist. Over ten decayed heads were viciously strangled and flung flying!
But still, it was useless. The horde outside had already numbered over a thousand, with more continuously breaking out from the ground. Situ Yingzhi grabbed Yu Jingzhong, pushing him behind himself for cover, unable to attend to the others. He raised his hand and let out a piercing whistle that cut through the sky.
The next moment, lightning struck down from the dark clouds. Situ Yingzhi caught it midair like a blazing whip and swung it through the corpses!
Crackle—!
Electricity surged wildly. The decayed corpses fell like wheat under a sickle, clearing a large area instantly!
The scent of burnt flesh and ozone was strong, causing many policemen to vomit on the spot. Amid the glaring light, the ball lightning roared through, turning corpses into charred ashes, even splitting several newly risen corpses into two pieces!
“I’ll stay behind to cover!” Situ Yingzhi yelled, grabbing Yu Jingzhong. “You take the others and run! Call Team One to come break the formation!”
Yu Jingzhong’s ears bled from the lightning’s roar. Unable to respond, he pointed to his side.
Situ Yingzhi turned to see the ball lightning explode, blowing apart over a dozen corpses. The broken limbs and shattered bones left a large hole blasted into the concrete floor, dark and deep leading underground.
—This was likely dug out beforehand, covered with concrete, now collapsed open after the electric blast revealing the underground tunnel.
“No time! No way to escape!” Yu Jingzhong shouted as he wiped blood from his ears. “Everyone—go down!”
Situ Yingzhi feared encountering the formation’s mastermind in the tunnel. Leading a group of ordinary people, there was no way to get out unscathed. But with more and more corpses gathering above like an endless chain of radishes from the earth, they couldn’t stay. He harshly ordered the others: “Deputy Yu cover the rear! I lead the front—stay close!”
The decayed corpses staggered and converged again. Situ Yingzhi flicked his wrist and grasped two long knives from thin air. He tossed the left one to Yu Jingzhong while he slashed the nearby corpses into pieces with the right.
Amidst flying limbs, he dashed like lightning to the tunnel entrance and leapt inside. The remaining policemen desperately followed, tumbling and rolling as they rushed in.
Yu Jingzhong, covering the rear, was nearly surrounded by corpses. He hacked through the cluster, carving a bloody path, and felled two more snarling corpses near the tunnel entrance before jumping in, blood covering his face and head.
In an instant, the ground beneath him gave way. The sound of rushing wind in his ears, then a heavy thud as he fell. Several hands grabbed him to help him up.
“How’s Deputy Yu?” “Are you okay?”
Yu Jingzhong stood, wiped the blood, and said, “Thank you, comrades, for your hard work. All today’s events are classified top secret. Please cooperate with the National Security Special Department. Remember the confidentiality regulations… Situ? What are you doing?”
Below the tunnel was a narrow stone chamber, roughly the size of a suburban apartment basement, barely enough to hold seven or eight people standing. The chamber tapered eastward into another tunnel winding deeper. Situ Yingzhi stood at the entrance, staring into the darkness, motionless and tense.
Yu Jingzhong walked over and patted his shoulder. “What are you looking at?”
“…” Situ turned his head, his face pale and frightening. “Is it still possible to get out if we go back now?”
Yu Jingzhong was stunned, then heard the sound of dripping water from the tunnel.
Suddenly, a powerful and sinister aura, like an invisible giant serpent, slithered out from the far end of the tunnel, enveloping everyone.
Yu Jingzhong felt his chest press down heavily, breath growing difficult. Turning around, he saw everyone leaning against the earthen walls; some timid ones were already too weak in the legs to stand.
The sound of flowing water grew nearer. A stream of black liquid emerged from the tunnel, winding through rubble and soil into the stone chamber.
Situ stared at the black water, enunciating: “—Sea of Death Qi…”
“Fall back!” he suddenly shouted angrily, “Fall back! Don’t touch the water, fall back—!”
Everyone panicked and retreated hastily. But it was too late. The young policeman Situ had just saved was standing too close, unaware as the black water seeped into his shoe.
Half a second later, the policeman let out a horrifying scream. From his foot upward, his body rapidly melted, bones dissolving like snow in boiling water. His exposed flesh turned a terrifying black!
Situ Yingzhi rushed to cut his leg, but it was already too late. The policeman collapsed convulsing, visibly decomposing rapidly into a skeleton, completely melting into the pool of blood within seconds!
Everyone panicked and screamed, retreating again, afraid the spreading black water would touch their feet.
Situ Yingzhi leapt back to the tunnel entrance where he had just jumped down. He would rather go out fighting the corpses with ordinary people than face the Sea of Death Qi inside. But the next moment, a deep, ominous voice echoed from the tunnel:
“Since you’re here, don’t think about leaving.”
Situ Yingzhi trembled all over, turning his head in disbelief.
From the tunnel appeared a man entirely covered in blazing red, with three faces and eight arms, wielding a war halberd, barefoot stepping on the earth, his scorching and domineering aura blasting like a raging fire.
“Descending, Descending the King of the Three Worlds…”
Yu Jingzhong asked in surprise, “What did you say?”
The fiery red man stepped out from the tunnel and stood in the stone chamber. The terrifying sea of death energy surged from behind him toward the ground, growing stronger and almost gathering into a small stream.
His appearance was grotesquely deformed, like the golden statues in temples coming alive—but while that look in a temple is solemn and majestic, seeing it alive before their eyes was like a horror movie. The police officers were so scared they couldn’t even shout, trembling as they held onto the stone wall.
“One of the five true Kings of Vajrayana Buddhism, Akshobhya Tathagata’s Wheel-Holder, whose status is even higher than the Phoenix King…” Situ Yingzhi’s teeth chattered, his voice trembling as he asked, “A Heavenly Dao master like you actually came to the human world to recklessly slaughter innocents and accumulate death energy. What exactly are you trying to do?!”
The King of the Three Worlds had three eyes on each face. The central face’s vertical pupil rose and looked down on them.
In his gaze, these mortal beings below were as negligible as air; only Situ Yingzhi, the zombie Xiuhou, was considered a lowly creature on the same level as pigs and dogs.
“How unfortunate. The sea of death energy was originally meant to be used against an even stronger demon…”
The King of the Three Worlds paused, then said calmly, “However, since you are all lowly beings of the Four Evil Paths, I will subdue you first.”
Situ Yingzhi’s pupils constricted — the next second, the heavy war halberd sliced through the air, instantly stabbing right in front!
·
—BOOM!
The ground in the Liao family villa violently shook, decorations shattered on the floor, and Chu He suddenly steadied himself by a huge full-length mirror.
“This wasn’t like this the last time we came to his house,” Zhou Hui touched his chin, looking around the hall, “Does Shakti have such a passionate love for mirrors?”
Chu He expressionlessly said, “I don’t know, you dated her, not me.”
The two hundred square meters, over six meters high hall was draped in black curtains, on which hung countless huge mirrors. These mirrors filled every inch of the ceiling and walls without a gap. No matter which angle you looked up from, you could see thousands upon thousands of copies of yourself, all wearing the exact same expression — a truly chilling sight.
Zhou Hui silently looked up for a moment; countless Zhou Huis simultaneously turned their gaze, “But you’re the one engaged to her.”
“I’m just a stand-in,” Chu He said coldly.
Zhou Hui: “…”
Zhou Hui scratched his head and took a few steps around, seemingly trying to find a secret door hidden within the mirrors. But it was futile—light bent and twisted repeatedly from reflections in hundreds of mirrors, making it extremely difficult to detect anything even a few steps away. The field of vision contained nothing except thousands of identical human silhouettes.
This kind of environment was easy to break one’s mind. Someone with weak psychological resilience would be scared senseless right now. Chu He closed his eyes tightly, then reopened them, lowering his gaze to avoid looking at the mirrors, asking, “Should we retreat for now?”
“No, we can’t leave without dealing with Shakti. Otherwise, that four-direction corpse-walking formation can’t be broken. Though I don’t know why she’s doing all these tricks, accumulating death energy is going to cause huge trouble.”
Zhou Hui walked around the hall, weaving through the thick mirrors, searching for a path, then added, “And she’s collected so many corpses and even holds a fragment of your soul. I’m worried…”
Before he finished speaking, suddenly an icy female voice echoed simultaneously from all the mirrors:
“How unfair, Zhou Hui. When you were dating me, I never saw you this attentive.”
Chu He and Zhou Hui looked up simultaneously, seeing the snow mountain goddess Shakti in black robes, with thick silver hair, looking down on them from the countless giant mirrors, a faint smile on her lips.
·
Zhou Hui’s first reaction was to look at Chu He’s expression, but when his head turned, he froze.
“Shakti…” he slowly smiled and said, “That was so many years ago, yet you still remember. What if it delays you finding a new boyfriend? How could I take responsibility?”
A woman’s cruelty always stems from feelings; when a man turns cruel, it’s shockingly cold and hard.
Shakti didn’t show a hurt expression; instead, she smiled happily. “You’re still the same, even your tone hasn’t changed… But you actually admitted our ex-relationship in front of His Highness the Phoenix King. Looks like you have a lot of confidence in your new relationship — that’s impressive.”
She looked at Chu He with a smile; his profile was as cold and white as an ice sculpture, without a trace of extra expression.
“An ex should have the awareness of being one.”
“Oh? You mean I shouldn’t have come back? Too bad the cycle of reincarnation lasting millions of years also has an end. Compared to you, the Phoenix whose true form was destroyed, I am stronger having reclaimed my divinity.”
Shakti bent down, countless images simultaneously looked down on Chu He from above, thousands of eyes locking with his gaze—an utterly chilling scene.
“Last time I killed you, your six senses were sealed, your mind was dazed, like a walking corpse both tempting crime and utterly powerless to resist. I made you stab yourself with a knife, and you obediently did it — thinking back, you were much sexier then.”
Chu He replied lightly, “I have so many dark histories, which one are you talking about?”
He hadn’t restored his human form yet, still in his true form. The Phoenix King’s awe-inspiring appearance stood face to face with the Snow Mountain Goddess. Two faces famous for their beauty throughout the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths almost confronted each other. The tension was like drawn swords, yet gave a strange, eerie beauty.
“Only ‘so many’? You’re basically made up of dark history,” Shakti immediately straightened up, regaining her lofty posture, her gaze full of schadenfreude.
“No matter how much you hide, your origins cannot be erased; your unspeakable sordid secrets, the endless inner torment over thousands of years… I heard that the Peacock King once ascended the Thirty-Three Heavens to swallow Buddha and was thus cursed by Heaven? Ultimately, it was you at the root of the irreversible karmic cause.”
At the end, although she faced Chu He, her gaze pointed meaningfully at Zhou Hui:
“No wonder you willingly accepted the heavenly curse for the Peacock King, because you know deep down, the one who should bear the curse is yourself.”
Zhou Hui frowned, sensing the obvious hint in her words, looking suspiciously at Chu He after a moment.
Chu He stood motionless.
His face slightly turned, hair blocking his eyes so his expression was hidden; but his clenched jaw showed a bloodless, icy pale stiffness.
“Do you want to kill me again, Shakti?” After a long silence, he finally spoke sarcastically. “If you’re really that strong, why borrow this Thousand-Degree Mirror Realm from the Demon Lord? Your bluffing nature is the same as ever.”
Unexpectedly, Shakti didn’t mind — or rather, when Chu He lost control and said this, he had already unknowingly fallen into a disadvantageous position.
She even shook her head playfully, “I didn’t expect you’d recognize the Thousand-Degree Mirror Realm. It’s one of the most secret treasures of the Asura Path… I can’t imagine how much treasure the Demon Lord showed you, or how strong his desire to conquer you is, haha —”
She glanced at Zhou Hui with great interest.
Chu He looked around; countless identical faces gazed back at him.
He finally understood why the Demon Lord’s power was so strong the last time they met, even stronger than when he restored his power with his own blood sacrifice — it was not because of Maha, but because he had made a deal with the Snow Mountain Goddess.
He lent the Asura Path’s secret treasure, the Thousand-Degree Mirror Realm, and driven by intense vengeance, Shakti must have exchanged something equally important.
“Does the Demon Lord know you want to use it to kill me?” Chu He said coldly. “If the Thousand-Degree Mirror Realm breaks, what will you use to compensate?”
The Snow Mountain Goddess’ eyes sharpened. Then Chu He stepped forward; a whirlwind arose, his white robe flapping in the wind. The Phoenix spear, wrapped in countless bolts of lightning, struck toward the innumerable mirrors!
Shakti howled sharply in an instant!
—The earth shook violently as hundreds of heavy mirrors shifted and flipped; more mirrors fell from above, cutting off the path and dividing the entire space into several sections.
The electric light from the Phoenix spear reflected tens of thousands of times, weaving into a dazzlingly bright web capable of burning retinas; then, amid the overlapping spaces, it was thrown into a different-dimensional void, turning into a stunning arc of light.
Zhou Hui’s face changed drastically, but in the overlapping space, there was no time to catch up; several huge mirrors fell from the air, cutting off the path and trapping him in place.
“—Feng Si!”
“You should thank me,” Shakti’s voice came from behind, “As an ex, I’m doing my duty for an old lover.”
Zhou Hui turned back, staring at her: “What exactly do you want?!”
Shakti sat down leisurely inside the mirror. Her red lips were full, her chest rose, and under the black robe crossed snow-white legs appeared — utterly enchanting and seductive, but Zhou Hui’s gaze remained as cold as ice.
“So hurtful. It’s a pity the Phoenix King still cares so much about that time we dated. Did you know he saw us together inside the mirror?”
Zhou Hui laughed in disbelief, “Stop joking, is that his deepest fear?”
His attitude annoyed Shakti a bit: “Why not?”
“The majestic Phoenix King, the ancient divine bird, nearly became a Buddha, spent tens of thousands of years in the Thirty-Three Heavens, once saved the blood sea until empty. You tell me he still clings to something from so many years ago?” Zhou Hui mocked as if hearing a joke, leaning against the mirror and looking down at the goddess, “If anything, he still has grudges; fear? You’re seriously underestimating him.”
Shakti stared at Zhou Hui without moving.
In front of Zhou Hui, she seemed to have lost the aggressive posture and leverage she had pressed against Chu He.
“…I should have known all along. In your heart, the Phoenix King is just a flawless illusion on the altar. No matter what his true dark side is, you pretend not to see it… Fine, you don’t believe it anyway?”
Shakti touched the mirror; suddenly her image vanished from the giant mirror opposite. Darkness quickly swirled, opening an invisible giant mouth from the light projection, swallowing every mirror in the confined space.
Zhou Hui suddenly turned, finding himself in a dark, empty other-dimensional space, as if everything had disappeared.
Then, not far away, a gentle white light emerged, expanding and fading like layers of blooming lotus flowers. Within the light appeared the majestic and splendid Buddha hall of the Thirty-Three Heavens.
Zhou Hui’s pupils slightly dilated.
—Inside the vast hall, a young figure in a pure white kasaya sat kneeling quietly on the golden lotus seat of the Buddha.
That was the Phoenix King in his childhood.
“—Even in the Thirty-Three Heavens, few know this.”
Shakti emerged from the darkness, leaning close to Zhou Hui’s ear. Her charming voice could almost drip water:
“Take a good look, the Phoenix King’s darkest secret… After seeing it, you will understand why he fears you leaving.”
