Chapter 26: The Peculiar Corpse!
The skin of the corpse before him glowed with a bizarre, dark crimson, as though it had been steeped in water for a long time. Upon that blood-red flesh grew a fine layer of white, downy hair, so unnatural that the mere sight of it filled one’s heart with dread and horror.
Steeling his nerves, Shen Yan tried to comfort himself: “It’s only a corpse, most likely one that’s been soaking on the seabed for years. But for it to remain intact after so long, perhaps it harbors some precious treasure.”
He licked his lips and advanced slowly, drawing a flying sword from his storage pouch to prod the corpse.
In the next instant, a tremendous suction surged through the sword. Shen Yan’s inner strength poured out of him uncontrollably, flowing from the blade straight into the white-haired corpse.
“What’s happening?” Shen Yan struggled desperately to break free from the pull, his body retreating involuntarily.
Yet before he could escape, a voice, ancient and enigmatic, rang in his ears. The shock nearly made him lose his footing:
“One hundred and forty years! A full one hundred and forty years! At last, someone has come.”
“This corpse can speak?” The terror of the moment sent a chill down Shen Yan’s spine, goosebumps erupting all over his body.
At the same time, a wave of peril, so intense it made his scalp prickle, swept out from the Heavenly Emperor’s Divine Seal within him.
He dared linger no longer. Controlling the water currents, he shot directly toward the surface.
“Young man, don’t be in such a hurry to leave.” The strange voice sounded again, and a powerful force yanked him downward.
But though the pull was strong, it could not restrain Shen Yan, who wielded the art of Water Manipulation.
“Hm…” The eerie voice came once more, as though puzzled as to why Shen Yan had not been dragged down.
Shen Yan, too, noticed that the strength binding him seemed to be fading, the crisis sensed by the Heavenly Emperor’s Divine Seal gradually dissipating until only the faintest trace remained.
“Could I actually handle this corpse?” The thought flashed across his mind. Since the creature could not keep him, and the seal no longer warned of mortal crisis, he decided it would be best to understand what this corpse truly was.
Jinzhou Bay was his domain; to leave such a monster roaming the depths was a grave threat to himself. He made up his mind, halted his ascent, and turned with caution to ask, “Who… who are you?”
Gazing upon the grotesque corpse, Shen Yan still harbored some worry—but his curiosity burned brighter.
“Me? I am an elder of the Azure Lotus Sword Sect. One hundred and forty years ago, I suffered a great calamity and perished, forced to anchor my soul within this puppet of mine. Had you not arrived to awaken me, I fear my soul would have faded away in utter confusion.”
One hundred and forty years!
Hearing the time frame from this so-called elder of the Azure Lotus Sword Sect, Shen Yan felt an ancient, weighty presence pressing upon him.
A span of one hundred and forty years—longer than the founding of the State of Qian itself!
“Could senior be a Foundation Establishment cultivator? Or perhaps Core Formation…”
Suddenly, Shen Yan recalled rumors he had heard at the Yang Estate—namely, that beyond martial artists, there existed immortals and cultivators in this world.
Yet such immortals were lofty and remote, far beyond the reach of ordinary mortals, let alone a mere servant of the Yang family like himself.
“That’s correct. But I was not a Core Formation cultivator, merely one at the Foundation Establishment stage.”
The corpse’s voice sighed, and continued:
“A Foundation Establishment cultivator trapped within a puppet?”
Shen Yan’s spirits lifted. Puppetry, like artifact forging, alchemy, and talisman crafting, was one of the many arts of cultivation.
But unlike the widely practiced crafts of forging, alchemy, and talismans, puppetry was exceedingly rare and exceptionally difficult. Shen Yan had spent considerable time on Jingyun Island and never once encountered it.
For this man to possess a puppet and even anchor his soul within it bespoke extraordinary skill—could he perhaps cultivate the legendary path of the Ghost Immortal?
Shen Yan recalled the knowledge he had gleaned from the Heavenly Emperor’s Divine Seal regarding the paths of cultivation. Perhaps this elder knew of such things as Earth Immortals, Divine Immortals, Human Immortals, and Ghost Immortals.
“Senior, to anchor one’s soul in a puppet—is that the path of Earth Immortals, Divine Immortals, Human Immortals, or Ghost Immortals?”
Shen Yan could not contain his eagerness to learn about cultivation.
“What nonsense is that? Cultivation is cultivation—where do all these Earth Immortals and Ghost Immortals come from?”
The corpse’s voice sounded perplexed, then seemed to realize something:
“You must have heard some idle gossip. In truth, for us cultivators, there are no such distinctions.”
Shen Yan was taken aback. The information he possessed came from the Heavenly Emperor’s Divine Seal, whose mysterious origins left no room for doubt.
Either the corpse was lying, or his level was simply too low to know the truth.
After a moment’s thought, Shen Yan guessed the latter—it seemed unlikely such knowledge would be deliberately concealed.
“Senior is right. I was being presumptuous.”
“Today, with your help, I am finally freed. As thanks, I shall grant you a single wish.”
“A wish granted?” Shen Yan could scarcely contain his delight. Yet inwardly, he remained skeptical; he remembered the malice sensed by the Divine Seal and the suction from the flying sword. This so-called elder of the Azure Lotus Sword Sect was certainly no righteous figure—perhaps he was, a hundred and forty years ago, but after so long beneath the sea, he could not be a good man now.
“Hmph! I am an elder of the Azure Lotus Sword Sect—do you really think I would deceive you?”
The corpse snorted coldly, clearly displeased at Shen Yan’s doubts.
“Of course not, of course not.” Shen Yan forced a smile, then hesitated. “Senior, my talent in cultivation is lacking. Might you lend me your aid in raising my level?”
“You wish to advance your cultivation?”
The corpse’s voice paused, as if contemplating. After a moment, it replied:
“Your spiritual roots are shallow; forming a foundation will be extremely difficult. Yet you have rendered me a service, and I am not one to break my word.”
“If you wish to establish your foundation, then become my disciple.”
“These hundred-odd years, though the puppet has bound me, it has also protected my soul. Now that I take you as my apprentice, I shall reform your body and teach you the arts of the Azure Lotus Sword Sect.”
“Thank you, Master!” Shen Yan seized the opportunity, feigning unbridled joy.
“But to reform your body, I must expend what little true essence I have left. Once spent, I shall have no strength remaining. My soul, bereft of a vessel, is doomed to perish.”
The voice of the Azure Lotus Sword Sect elder echoed by Shen Yan’s ear:
“In the future, you must carry on the heritage of the Azure Lotus Sword Sect—do not let me down.”
“Master, is there truly no way to save yourself?” Shen Yan affected deep concern. Were it not for the earlier malice, he might have believed the tale.
Now, however, he was certain: this old ghost was merely fishing, trying to lower his guard.