After Constantly Courting Death, I Became the White Moonlight - Chapter 39

“So, this is the real Goose City?”

He Zhi Zhou glanced around, and a shiver crept up his spine under the bone-chilling atmosphere. “This is just… way too creepy, okay?”

The Chen estate was completely dark. Only a few flickers of lamplight could be seen far off in the distance from taller buildings, casting faint halos through the gloom.

Pei Ji’s black robes blended into the night almost seamlessly. His pale, handsome face was the only thing visible against the dark: “The demon cultivators in this city were strong enough to withstand even the attacks of the elders. We’re no match for them.”

“Besides,” he added, “midnight is just two hours away. If we stay here much longer, we might end up as sacrifices in some demon’s formation. If that happens, not only will we die, but we’ll also help them complete the ritual—dooming countless others in the process.”

Zheng Weiqi nodded solemnly and picked up the thread: “The Heaven-Net Formation here may trap demons, but it can’t restrain human cultivators. I think the point of this trial is to have us escape the net before midnight. That way, even if the demon ritual finishes forming, without living humans as anchors, the Soul Refining Array can’t activate.”

Her logic was sound. He Zhi Zhou gave a small nod of agreement.

Only Pei Ji seemed indifferent. His gaze lowered—seemingly unintentional—but quietly drifted toward Ning Ning’s direction.

She had always been the quick-thinking one of their group. But ever since waking up, she hadn’t said a single word.

He felt something was off but didn’t want to ask directly. After a moment of hesitation, he cleared his throat and said in a deliberately casual voice, “Senior Sister… something bothering you?”

Ning Ning looked up under the moonlight. Her almond-shaped eyes reflected the faint glow in the distance. She seemed genuinely surprised that Pei Ji had spoken to her.

Pei Ji, caught by her gaze, immediately felt his ears heat up and averted his eyes.

“…It’s nothing major.”

She rubbed the tip of her nose and gave a small smile. “You’ll probably say I’m overthinking, but… I just feel like something’s off.”

He Zhi Zhou turned to her, wide-eyed. “No way—still something off? Don’t tell me this tower has another twist? What is this, a thousand-layered pancake?”

“…Maybe I’m just overthinking it.”

Ning Ning sounded unsure. “But everything’s gone a little too smoothly, don’t you think? From finding clues to exposing the truth, it all flowed perfectly, like it was scripted. The flaws the locust tree demon made were too obvious—easy to catch. Like how we discovered the tree’s existence and that letter—like someone wanted us to find them. Everything felt… pre-arranged.”

“Well, isn’t that the whole point of the Pagoda Tower?”

He Zhi Zhou wasn’t concerned in the slightest. He leaned over and whispered via voice transmission, “This place is basically a multiplayer dungeon in a game, right? The storyline’s already set up—we just follow the plot, beat the mini-bosses and main boss, and boom, clear the stage. If it were all vague and cryptic with no clues at all, how would anyone pass?”

…That did make sense.

Ning Ning nodded quietly, saying no more.

As the group discussed, they were suddenly interrupted by a few mocking chuckles nearby. They turned—and saw shadowy figures emerging from beneath the trees by the back courtyard.

The wind howled. From the twisted shadows stepped more than ten demons, each with a different monstrous appearance.

Leading them was none other than… the locust tree demon—now completely transformed from the naive young girl they’d once met in the illusion.

She no longer played the role of innocent maiden. Her sleeves covered her lips as she smiled, every movement soaked in seductive charm. “I told you already—once the illusion ends, I’m not your only opponent.”

A demon with a tiger’s head chuckled behind her. “What, still clinging to that little girl look? Honestly, your original form is way hotter.”

The locust demon gave him a glance, her lips curling with amusement. And in the blink of an eye, her skin shifted—taking on an unnatural green-gray hue.

The flesh on her left arm and the right side of her face disappeared, replaced by dark brown wooden vines. Little green leaves sprouted from them, peeking through the otherwise human skin—a bizarre and eerie sight.

“I’ll leave the rest to you all,” she said sweetly. “Whoever captures them and brings them back to Lingquan Temple will receive the highest credit.”

She laughed lightly, her voice tinkling like wind chimes. “Well then, I’ll take my leave now. There’s a celebration banquet I must attend at the formation site. See you at the temple.”

She was a native-born demon of Goose City—an ancient spirit birthed from the locust tree. While not among the most powerful, her illusion trap had kept the group occupied for quite some time. That alone was enough to earn her favor with the elder demons, who invited her to join their victory feast.

And with that, she leapt into the air.

With a single step, she landed gracefully on the courtyard wall.

Zheng Weiqi tried to pursue her, sword drawn—but several demon cultivators blocked her path.

For once, the narrator’s tone turned serious:

[Beneath the blood moon, shadows loomed thick. The figures ahead were clearly not friendly. One man stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, and launched into the air—like a dragon bursting from the sea, his aura like—]

No, wait.
Something wasn’t right.

That demon cultivator who had soared into the air… why did his whole body twist and flop like a wrung-out bedsheet, tumbling backward like he’d been hit by a stampede?

Oh—now it saw the truth.

Turns out, he hadn’t taken off by his own will at all. He’d been blasted sky-high by Zheng Weiqi’s furious sword aura. —So they were the real “hostile invaders,” not the demons!

Stung with humiliation, the narration pressed on grimly:

“His form was like a dragon bursting from the sea, his aura—like a mudfish thrashing through soil! With a miserable shriek, he slammed into the rear courtyard wall! Zheng Weiqi, that wretched villain, struck unexpectedly and with such terrifying power—ordinary demons simply couldn’t withstand it. Though defeated today, he still stands as a king among monsters!”

This level of the Pagoda was designed for disciples in the Core Formation and Nascent Soul stages. Naturally, the creatures within were mostly at the Core Formation stage—especially the cannon-fodder types like these. They were nowhere near Zheng Weiqi’s match.

All four disciples had concealed their cultivation. On the surface, their levels were unremarkable.

The demons of Goose City had never directly fought Ningning and her group. But everything that happened inside the illusion had been broadcast in real time to Lingquan Temple, so they assumed these four were just small-fry cultivators from some no-name sect, out to earn a little pocket change through “demon subjugation.”

—So what was with that terrifying sword aura just now?!

“You want to capture me?”

Zheng Weiqi stood on the brink of fury. Her sword left its sheath with a cold, crisp ring as she sneered:

“Let’s see if you’ve got the guts.”

At once, sword energy surged to the heavens, rustling the courtyard’s locust trees into a frenzy. Leaves fluttered down like rain.

“Killing intent surged in the woman’s eyes. A suffocating pressure radiated from her body, as if even the city’s bloodstained skies trembled before her might—”

“And behind her, drawing his sword as well, was none other than the Great Demon—Pei Ji!”

The narrator faltered for a moment.
Then it gave a dry, awkward cough.

“Ahem… pardon the slip. That should be: drawing his sword as well, was her junior brother, Pei Ji.”

The moment the surrounding demons realized these newcomers weren’t pushovers, their arrogant grins vanished. After eyeing the four carefully, they lunged forward in unison.

Ningning pressed her hand on the hilt of her Starmark Sword. When the blade was unsheathed, it let out a clear, ringing note.

“The tiger-headed demon held his breath, waiting in the dark for the perfect moment to strike.
He had murdered, pillaged, and terrorized innocents. And yet, in his heart, he believed he was still a good boy—today, he would show these self-righteous cultivators what it meant when they said: ‘Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west. Don’t bully the poor just because they’re weak!’”

As swords flashed like falling stars, the narrator refused to yield, carrying on with deep emotional investment:

“Vile! That heartless witch Ningning struck him directly in the heart with one clean blow!
How could he fall like this?”

“His vision dimmed as tears flowed like rain. In the final moment before his eyes closed forever, he saw his comrades fall one after another.
He remembered the way they used to run under the sunset in their youth—those were the golden days, lost forever.”

The city’s demons didn’t know the true strength of their enemies, so they’d only sent low-level underlings. But once those grunts failed to report back, stronger enemies would inevitably follow.

Zheng Weiqi sheathed her sword. “We shouldn’t linger. Let’s go—quickly.”

Ningning instinctively nodded and took two steps forward, but her gaze couldn’t help drifting toward a small pile of bones lying in a forgotten corner.

Even in the illusion, she’d only met Chen Yueming a few times. As for the real Second Miss Chen—they’d never even crossed paths.

Yet now, under the bleak and ghostly wind, that frail skeleton lay curled up alone in a deserted courtyard. Her clothes were long gone, and her hollow eye sockets stared out in eternal silence, helpless and forgotten.

Quietly, Ningning stepped forward and pulled a robe from her storage pouch. She gently draped it over the girl’s remains.

As she knelt down, she noticed a small booklet lying nearby on the ground—no larger than a palm.

Without thinking, she picked it up and carefully flipped it open. It was Chen Yueming’s diary.

The page it opened to was the last entry, scrawled in childish, crooked handwriting.

“Big Sis told me she’s had a friend in the back courtyard since she was little. It’s the old locust tree.”

“She said… even though it’s become a demon, it’s a kind one. Every night for the past few years, she’s been sneaking out to talk with it.”

“I don’t understand. How could there be good demons? But Big Sis never lies to me—if she says it’s true, then it must be true.”

“Tomorrow night, she’s going to take me to meet that friend.”

The date was the fourth of June.

And the very next night, Chen Yueming died in that courtyard.

“Chen Luobai has known that tree demon for years?”

He Zhi Zhou leaned in behind her, tsking softly as he read the diary entry. “Wow, it really did a good job hiding in plain sight. Like a scene straight out of Hidden. It must’ve endured for years… With that kind of friendship with Chen Lubai, didn’t it feel any pain when it killed her?”

Zheng Weiqi shook her head. “When it comes to demonic creatures, it’s hard for mortals to understand their thoughts.”

After a pause, she added, “This place isn’t safe. We need to leave. Now.”

=====

They weren’t wrong.

Once the city’s higher-ups noticed no one had returned to report, the ruling great demon finally realized that this group of juniors was no ordinary bunch. It immediately dispatched several elite demon cultivators to scour the city—and every one of them was formidable.

Flying by sword was too conspicuous, so Ning Ning and the others had no choice but to run on foot toward the city gates. But as more and more enemies closed in, even someone as powerful as Zheng Weiqi began to feel the pressure.

The narrator sighed mournfully.
[That’s it? That’s all you’ve got? If this is the best you can do, you might as well give up and go back to Lingquan Temple to be the sacrifice.]

Zheng Weiqi snapped, “Shut up!”

Another peak Golden Core demon cultivator fell under her blade. Blood splashed across her cheek as she wiped it away with a scowl, glancing down at the corpse. “This demon’s lost its mind—he actually tattooed soul-refining runes onto his own face.”

Ning Ning, who had never seen a soul-refining array before, curiously leaned down to look.

The man’s body was burly and muscular, covered in intricate blue runes inked directly into his skin. Her brows furrowed. Something about it felt… familiar.

“This soul-refining array… why does it look so much like a Buddhist soul-transcending formation?”

Zheng Weiqi lowered her voice. “That’s because they come from the same root technique. Structurally, they’re very similar. But the soul-refining array is a forbidden technique used to trap and extract souls, while the soul-transcending array is a Buddhist formation used to purify the dead and destroy evil. They both require a year’s worth of refined souls to activate, but their purposes couldn’t be more different.”

“There’s a difference like that?” He Zhi Zhou’s eyes lit up. “That’s it! That’s a clear clue! If we could just alter the formation—convert the soul-refining array into a soul-transcending one—wouldn’t that let us clear this trial easily?”

Zheng Weiqi gave him a look like he was an idiot. “To activate the soul-transcending array, you still need a living person as a catalyst. It’s often used by monks who perish alongside demons. It’s a method of mutual destruction.”

Pei Ji, who had fought the hardest alongside Zheng Weiqi, now looked exhausted, his eyes bloodshot and voice hoarse. “There’s only the four of us in this city. It’s not worth dying for a single level of this Pagoda Trial.”

Even if the pagoda was an illusion, the pain and damage they suffered here were real. Sacrificing their lives would be a foolish trade.

Zheng Weiqi seemed unfazed. “If we can’t pass it this time, then so be it. The Pagoda Trials don’t have a limit on attempts. If we fail now, we’ll come back next time and try again.”

He Zhi Zhou sighed. “I can’t believe it’s been years, and I’m hearing that phrase again: ‘Victory and defeat are common in a cultivator’s life. Please try again.’ I thought we did everything right… Where did we go wrong?”

Soul-transcending array. Soul-refining array.
A living person as the medium.
Chen Lubai. The locust tree demon.

Ning Ning gripped the hilt of her sword. Her brow twitched slightly.

Zheng Weiqi noticed the shift in her expression. “Junior Sister, what’s wrong?”

Her voice was clear as a bell, yet Ning Ning’s mind was in chaos. Even that voice became muddled, indistinct, like echoes in a storm.

Something had clicked in her mind.

A truth none of them had fully realized.

There had been too many inconsistencies in the illusion—too many things that didn’t add up. But now that she thought about it, those “flaws” weren’t random.

The lack of spiritual sense despite the presence of night terrors. The clearly transformed locust tree that no one bothered to verify. Chen Yue Ming’s personality in the illusion, so drastically different from the real girl.

These weren’t minor oversights.

If the locust tree demon had created the illusion, it must have noticed these inconsistencies too. And yet, it had left them unchanged. As if…

As if it wanted them to notice.

All the flaws were too obvious—so obvious they began to seem intentional.

—What if, from the very beginning, this was a trap laid by the locust tree demon? Not to trap them, but to help them escape?

Maybe she was under surveillance. Maybe she couldn’t openly release them. So instead, she left a trail of clues, hoping they would piece it together and see the illusion for what it was.

Even that final letter… perhaps she had known they were tracking her. That was why she deliberately walked around with it in plain view, practically forcing them to read it—so they would understand the truth about the soul-refining array.

And as for why she would help them escape—maybe part of it was guilt. Maybe she couldn’t bear to see more innocents die. But more importantly…

Once the sacrifices escaped, the demons in the city would focus all their efforts on recapturing them. That would leave the array site poorly guarded.

If someone wanted to tamper with the formation, it’d be much easier to do so then.

But she, as a demon, couldn’t activate the soul-transcending array. It required a living human as the medium. Even if she altered the formation, she couldn’t use it alone.

But what if…

She wasn’t actually a demon?

“Besides us, there might be one more person left in this city.”

Ning Ning’s heart was pounding wildly as her voice trembled ever so slightly. “Tell me… if a demon spirit possesses a human body, does that human gain demonic powers too?”

Pei Ji, though usually the quietest of them all, was—unsurprisingly—the first to grasp her meaning.

The youth furrowed his brows slightly and answered in a low voice, “That’s correct. You’re suggesting the figure we saw wasn’t the huai ghost itself… but Chen Lubai, possessed by it?”

Zheng Weiqi shook her head. “But if it were possession, the person’s body wouldn’t change. Yet we all saw it—Chen Lubai’s arms and face had already turned into wood.”

“Then maybe—” Ning Ning’s voice softened further, barely above a whisper. “Maybe those parts were already gone. She got help from the huai ghost… and transplanted the tree’s trunk onto herself.”

“But that doesn’t make sense either!” He Zhizhou broke in, stunned. “Back in the illusion, didn’t we see Chen Lubai whole and unharmed?”

He paused, then widened his eyes in disbelief. “Wait… You don’t mean—?!”

Pei Ji exchanged a glance with Ning Ning. For once, the calm depths of his eyes stirred with an unspoken ripple. “She might have been injured by the demon cultivators, gravely so. Or perhaps… after witnessing the fall of Goose City with her own eyes, she cut off her limbs herself—disguising herself as a demon.”

Zheng Weiqi and He Zhizhou both gasped.

“Then right now… where is she?”

They thought back. When Chen Lubai left, she deliberately said something—something about the formation and the banquet both being at Lingquan Temple. “See you at the temple,” she’d said.

And just now, the narrator had made an oddly sarcastic comment—

“Why run? Just go back to Lingquan Temple and offer yourselves as sacrifices.”

Senior Sister had mentioned before: the narrator was added to provide subtle hints when needed. Though it had been spewing nonsense since the beginning… what if this time, that seemingly mocking line was actually a hidden clue?

And what about Chen Lubai? She mentioned Lingquan Temple twice. Was that really just a coincidence… or was she trying to tell them something?

…

Lingquan Temple.

Chen Lubai set her wine cup down, her expression composed as she gazed at the group of unconscious demon cultivators sprawled across the banquet table.

With the demons scouring the entire city for just a handful of human cultivators, the once-bustling temple was now nearly empty—just her and a few high-ranking demons still drinking and celebrating.

There were probably a few underlings loitering outside the temple, but none would dare interrupt. These demon overlords were infamous for their mercurial tempers—disturbing the feast might just cost a life.

They’d been so arrogant, so unstoppable.

And now, a single cup of poisoned wine had brought them low. Who would’ve guessed that the huai ghost—usually the most loyal among them—would spike their drinks at such a crucial moment?

Demon cultivators had strong bodies and powerful constitutions. The poison wouldn’t kill them, but it was enough to knock them out for a while.

She had waited for this moment.

Waited for an entire year.

…

One year ago, on the fifth day of the sixth month, demonic forces stormed the city of Goose at midnight. The city was bathed in blood; almost no one survived.

Only Chen Lubai, hidden behind a huai tree, managed to live.

Back then, she clutched her mouth shut, biting back her sobs. Through the garden wall, she overheard two demon cultivators passing by, their voices crystal clear in the quiet night.

“Once we refine the souls in this city for a full year, we can activate the Soul Refining Formation. With it, we’ll ascend in power—and no longer fear the so-called righteous sects.”

Another one laughed heartily.

“Better be careful drawing that array. Everyone knows how similar the Soul Refining and Soul Crossing arrays look. Screw it up, and none of us are getting out alive.”

“Hahaha! How could we mess it up? Don’t we have Nascent Soul-level demons watching every step?”

Soul Refining. Soul Crossing. One year.
Human. Demon.

The huai ghost, one of her only remaining friends, had begged her to take the chance and escape the city.

But right then, a wild, reckless thought surfaced.

The usually timid, spoiled, and soft Chen Lubai wiped away her tears—and for the first time in her life, shook her head with fierce determination.

She wanted revenge.

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

Even the huai ghost had tried to reason with her. “You’re too weak. Trying to fight them… is like an ant trying to topple a tree.”

But Chen Lubai only shook her head, red-eyed and silent.

To disguise herself as a monster, the once pampered and delicate girl gritted her teeth and severed one of her own arms. Her face, too, was deliberately disfigured beyond recognition. The Huai Ghost nestled in her spiritual sea, using branches and leaves to fill in the broken gaps of her body. The pain had nearly torn her apart, but all her tears had to be swallowed in silence, alone.

After that, she blended seamlessly among the demon cultivators.

Day after day, she waited. She tricked them into revealing the method to draw the Soul-Cleansing Array, and she waited until four human cultivators finally stepped into the city.

Chen Lubai wanted to save them—but more importantly, she needed them to draw the attention of most of the demon horde. After finally convincing the demon lords to trap them in an illusion, she planted clues in every way she could, hoping they’d follow the trail and escape the illusion, arriving at the real Goose City.

Midnight was approaching.

Inside the grand hall, the statues of Buddha were in ruins. The dim candlelight flickered over shattered walls and tattered offerings, painting a picture of decay and abandonment. Chen Lubai slowly rose from the feast table and walked toward the array in the temple’s main chamber.

The formation was painted in blood. At its core, atop the altar, burned a roaring fire—meant for the living sacrifices.

The Soul-Cleansing Array and the Soul-Forging Array were nearly identical. She had memorized every stroke of the diagram by heart. Soon, very soon—

Just as she was thinking this, a cold chuckle echoed behind her.

It felt like a jolt of lightning ran through her body. Her limbs went numb, and she froze where she stood.

“I always wondered how those four cultivators managed to strut right out of the illusion,” a man’s voice said lazily. “Turns out, it was you who tampered with it.”

The voice dripped with disdain, each word radiating the arrogance of someone who looked down on the world from above. “And at the very beginning, when you insisted that the illusion was absolutely flawless… You just didn’t want us to break their arms and legs, right? Would’ve made it harder for them to escape later.”

Chen Lubai’s palms were clammy with sweat. Her heart thundered in her chest as she slowly turned around.

A man in crimson robes stood there, devilishly handsome, his eyes curved in a half-smile. The pressure from his spiritual power pressed down harder and harder with each passing second.

He continued, amused, “I wanted to see what kind of little game you were playing, so I purposely didn’t drink that wine. Those other fools gulped it down in one shot and even shouted for another round. Pathetic. How could I ever be lumped together with that kind of trash?”

“Hey.”

Seeing her remain silent, the man took a few steps forward, voice laced with growing irritation. “Say something, will you?”

She had long since lost the strength to speak.

Every demon cultivator here was at Nascent Soul stage or stronger—none of them could be underestimated. The one in front of her, Ming Liu, might not be the strongest among them, but he was the most unpredictable and cruel.

“Tch. Boring,” Ming Liu muttered. “Fine, keep your mouth shut. I don’t really care. I only need the Soul-Forging Array anyway.”

With a slight tilt of his head, his neck cracked with a sickening pop.

“As for you… just say your goodbyes now.”

The moment his words landed, murderous intent surged forth like a tidal wave.

Thick, noxious demonic energy mixed with crushing spiritual pressure blasted toward her. It was so intense she coughed up blood on the spot.

Chen Lubai clenched her teeth, unwilling to give in.

She had waited for this moment for an entire year. She’d endured each endless day and night, drowning in hatred, clinging to her purpose. She was so close now.

Just one more step.

Just one more step, and she could avenge the people of her city.

Had the Huai Ghost been right all along? Was all of this really just a moth throwing itself into a flame?

The oppressive pressure grew heavier and heavier, threatening to crush her from the inside out. Her internal organs felt like they were about to rupture. Pain blurred her thoughts—until, through the haze, she saw it.

A flash of sword light.

…Sword light?

In the blink of an eye, like a bolt from the heavens—

A familiar figure stormed in through the temple doors, sword in hand. The long blade shimmered like a thousand falling stars, slicing straight for the man’s throat.

Ming Liu sensed the killing intent and quickly dodged, but in that brief moment, he caught sight of the unaccounted-for sword cultivator.

“Oh?” He let out a raspy laugh. “Walking right into the trap. I like that.”

Ning Ning met Chen Lubai’s eyes for a split second, then raised her blade—Startrace Sword—firmly in hand. Her gaze sharpened as her voice rang out, cold and clear:

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on her.”

The situation inside Lingquan Temple had grown increasingly suspicious. After a swift discussion, the group of four had decided: Zheng Weiqi, He Zhizhou, and Pei Ji would stay behind to draw most of the demons away. Ning Ning, being the fastest and most skilled at stealth, was best suited to infiltrate the temple and investigate what was really going on.

Ming Liu wasn’t stupid—he could tell immediately that they had come to destroy the Soul-Forging Array. That unexpected sword cultivator barging in was just a distraction. The one who truly needed to be dealt with was Chen Lubai.

He moved to strike, killing intent rising sharply—but before he could even take a step, another streak of sword light slashed toward him.

—Damn it!

This girl was far more troublesome than he’d expected. Her sword technique split into several rapid flashes of lightning, all of them aimed directly at his throat with deadly precision. Ming Liu barely managed to dodge, eyes flashing blood-red as he bit into his own wrist. The gush of fresh blood surged outward, forming a long crimson blade.

Steel clashed against blood-forged steel with a piercing screech. Ning Ning, though not his match in raw strength, twisted her body mid-air and flipped back, narrowly avoiding the wave of blood mist that came rushing toward her.

Though she was clearly at a disadvantage, Ning Ning held her ground from beginning to end. Her sword style was fluid and ever-changing, swift and elusive. Rather than engage in a head-on duel to the death, she cleverly used her footwork to keep Ming Liu firmly trapped within striking range, never letting him break away.

Pitifully, despite all his strength, Ming Liu had no chance to stop the alteration of the array. He had no choice but to go all-in against this fearless sword cultivator, completely unable to spare a single glance toward Chen Lubai.

Meanwhile, Chen Lubai took advantage of the opening. She slashed her other wrist with a wooden branch, using her own blood to overwrite the array—the very one drawn with the blood of the people of Goose City.

The Soul-Forging and Soul-Cleansing arrays were separated only by a few strokes—good and evil, life and death, decided in a flick of the brush.

Ming Liu swore furiously. But most of the demon cultivators in the city were still busy hunting down the escaped sacrifices. The few guards stationed outside the temple had already been silently dealt with by Ning Ning. As for the remaining demon cultivators, all of whom were still suffering from severe poison, they were utterly useless.

His curses grew more frantic, and finally, desperation crept into his voice.

“Wait—please! Don’t activate the array! I—I’ll give you gold! Thousands of taels of it! All of it’s yours! You want my cultivation? Take it! It’s yours too!”

He paused, breath ragged, then pleaded again:
“You don’t have to do this! If you activate the Soul-Cleansing Array, you’ll die too! Wouldn’t it be better to stay and enjoy the mortal world—don’t jump!!”

At that moment, Ning Ning exhaled deeply, then turned back even while exchanging blows—just in time to meet Chen Lubai’s gaze.

The array had been altered.

Chen Lubai now stood in front of the blazing altar, her face cast in fiery red by the roaring flames. Her pupils shimmered with starlight, like fallen constellations hiding in a girl’s night-dark eyes.

Her back trembled ever so slightly, but her gaze was steadier than it had ever been. She looked directly at Ning Ning—and smiled.

It was a smile of relief. One of acceptance. A final farewell.

“Ning Ning,” she said softly, “Back at the Chen manor… when I told you all that, I wasn’t lying.”

She continued, “At the time, I truly didn’t want to leave home. And thank you… truly. I was happy in the illusion.”

Only in that dream she had spun—where misty rain still fell upon Goose City—could Chen Lubai finally say the words she’d kept buried deep in her heart.

Not as the half-demon she’d become, but as the innocent young miss of the Chen family from a year ago.

Back then, she had longed to wander the world and live freely like a wandering heroine. But now… now, she truly, deeply loved Goose City. Loved the Chen manor. She never wanted to leave, not for the rest of her life.

Her father had always urged her to marry, yet he never denied her any request.
She always wondered what that “unexpected gift” he promised for her next birthday would’ve been. But she waited… day after day, and never got her answer.

Her elder brother and sister-in-law were always stuck together like glue—so disgustingly sweet it made her gag. But they treated her so well she couldn’t bring herself to complain. She even generously decided to forgive their PDA.

Her sister-in-law always asked if there was someone she liked. And every time, she’d shake her head furiously. She didn’t want to marry anyone. Honestly, when she imagined herself as an old woman sitting by the street, selling calligraphy and paintings alone… it didn’t sound so bad.

But that future would never come for her.

And then… there was little Yueming.

That tomboyish girl who loved playing in the mud and followed her around like a shadow. Since Chen Lubai had watched her grow up bit by bit, Yueming always listened to her obediently. Even when she came home filthy from playing house outside, she’d rush up to her, eyes shining, and hold out a muddy bowl asking with a silly grin, “Sister, do you wanna eat?”

That day, when the evil cultivators stormed the city, she and Yueming had been chatting with the Huai Ghost in the back garden. At the sound of screaming, she immediately knew something was wrong and grabbed her little sister, hiding her behind the pagoda tree.

Cries echoed throughout the Chen estate.

Chen Lubai had never heard screams so horrifying—desperate, agonized, inhuman. But she was powerless. All she could do was hold back tears and cover Yueming’s mouth.

Their muffled sobs trembled in the dark.

And then, two blood-drenched demon cultivators began approaching, step by step, drawing ever closer to the tree.

They would find them soon.

For the first time ever, Yue Ming didn’t obey her.
Instead, she broke free from Chen Lubai’s embrace and bolted in the opposite direction.

Her usually well-behaved, obedient little sister didn’t turn back—not even once.
Even as she died, she never looked back.

Blood burst like a crimson tide, the scent of iron filling the air. Yue Ming fell, and the two demon cultivators no longer bothered searching further.

That was Chen Yue Ming’s first and last act of defiance.

Chen Lubai had always known she was timid, spoiled, and willful.
But even so…
Even someone like her wanted to do something—anything—for the Goose City she had loved so dearly.

Their plan was already more than halfway complete.

She just needed to push a little further, be a little braver…

Then she and the locust spirit could take revenge—for everyone in the city.

The girl slowly lifted her head in silence, casting one final, long glance at the land she loved with all her heart.
Maybe what she loved most wasn’t Goose City itself—
—but the people in it, the ones she’d never see again.

Her father.
Her brother and sister-in-law.
Yue Ming.
The timid servant scared by horses.
The friendly vendor who always welcomed her with a smile.
And the muddy children squatting in alleyways playing their little games.

They were all so good, so kind.
She couldn’t bear to leave a single one of them.

Midnight struck