The light on Wu Gou’s body gradually faded, and the characters surrounding him merged back into his form.
He closed his eyes to feel the changes for a moment, then opened them with a slight smile and pressed his palms together.
Tuoba Feng, who had been silent, set down his wine cup and suddenly spoke: “Actually, Master Wu Gou is quite cultured.”
Everyone’s gaze turned toward him at once.
Feeling uneasy under so many stares, Tuoba Feng nonetheless continued, “The words on the stone stele at the entrance of the City of the Wrongfully Dead were inscribed by Master Wu Gou.”
“This city is named Wrongful Death, yet it harbors the hope of the living. A god is not a saint by birth, and white bones can also carry the Dao. May lotuses bloom amidst the filth hereafter, and all beings smile in the face of despair.”
The Plague Rat was astonished. He had seen that stone stele; when it was first erected, he had even squatted beside it for quite a while.
Though he had grumbled that it was all a mess of nonsense, in his heart, he actually thought it was quite good.
But he simply didn't want to admit it.
“You brat, are you really a man of culture?”
Su Xue also set down her chopsticks and said softly, “I can also bear witness for Master Wu Gou.”
“Master Wu Gou and I have discussed the matter of the cycle of life and death before. His understanding of karma, retribution, and reincarnation is exceptionally thorough.”
The Plague Rat still didn't believe it, muttering, “I thought all the brothers were just rough brats. Turns out only me and Little Ten are the fools.”
Poison-Wing snapped back in annoyance, “Hey!”
Wu Gou smiled slightly, pressing his palms together and looking at the Plague Rat with clear eyes.
He felt as if a new window had been opened in his sea of consciousness.
In an instant, he seemed to have comprehended many of the traits of the Wenchang destiny.
For example, Discerning Truth—he could easily distinguish between truth and lies in others’ speech.
Though the Plague Rat was currently grumbling, Wu Gou could plainly see that the rat was sincerely happy for him; he was just an awkward fellow who disliked saying it directly.
Then there was Manifesting Speech into Law.
It seemed he could consume the power of his destiny to allow his spoken words to affect reality.
This ability was somewhat similar to the Buddhist Silent Zen or Mantra techniques, but at a deeper level, though the cost was also considerably high.
Finally, he could see hidden visual information through text, Tracing Origins.
Just as Tao Tuantuan could see the scenes and emotions of an author when reading a book, Wu Gou now likely possessed a similar ability.
However, with no books at hand, he couldn't put it into practice to verify it.
As he was thinking, he suddenly felt someone approaching.
Chen Zhou stood before Wu Gou, looking down at him with an expression that made the monk feel a bit uneasy.
“How was the fusion?” Chen Zhou asked.
Wu Gou shrank back slightly under the gaze but answered honestly, “It’s mediocre. This destiny doesn't help much with combat strength.”
“You know about the Manifesting Speech into Law ability—the cost and effect are equivalent.”
“Imbuing minor matters with Word Infusion is a manageable drain.”
“But if I wanted to decree life and death or reverse karma, given my current cultivation, a single word would likely suck me dry.”
“It doesn't matter,” Chen Zhou said in a gentle tone. “As long as you have it.”
Alarm bells rang in Wu Gou’s mind.
Chen Zhou continued, “Follow me to a certain place later.”
“You can't be serious?” Wu Gou’s eyes widened.
“Big Demon, you’re really using this monk like a donkey, aren't you?”
“I’m the one running between provinces to pick people up, I’m the one fighting, and I’m the one helping you transcend myriad ghosts. Now what kind of job is waiting for me?”
Chen Zhou smiled. “Don't worry, it’s a good thing.”
“Every time you say it’s a good thing, it’s never a good thing!”
“This time it really is,” Chen Zhou said. “You’ll understand when the time comes.”
Wu Gou thought about it and put on a look of resignation, as if making a great sacrifice.
Finally, he sighed and waved a hand. “Fine, fine. But you’ll have to reward this monk well afterward.”
“After all, I’m still a baby not even a year old. If word gets out that you’re making a baby not even a year old run around risking life and limb, you’ll be struck by lightning.”
Hearing this, Chen Zhou’s brow suddenly twitched.
“What did you say?”
Thinking Chen Zhou was going to back out, Wu Gou replied aggressively, “I said you have to reward me well!”
“What? The Big Demon wouldn't be that stingy, would he?”
“Where’s the logic in wanting the horse to run without giving it any hay? I want a feast after I’m done! I want good wine and good meat!”
Chen Zhou shook his head. “No, the sentence after that.”
Wu Gou froze, scratching his bald head. “Huh? After all, I’m still a baby not even a year old?”
Chen Zhou beamed with a wide smile.
“Good.”
How could he have forgotten?
Ksitigarbha of Great Vows was indeed an old monster who had lived for thousands of years, but when Wu Gou was split off from him, he was merely a newly born independent consciousness.
He was then guided to reincarnation by the Myriad Herbs Life-Death Realm. Counting from birth until now, it hadn't even been a year.
His soul age was younger than Chen Zhou’s.
With a soul age of less than a year, such talent should make inheriting the Xuandu Ghost Mansion no problem at all.
Chen Zhou began to look forward to seeing the expression on Xuandu’s face when they met again.
The most interesting part of dealing with a bunch of old fogies who had lived for an eon and slept for hundreds of thousands of years was being able to give them a little shock at any moment.
The more Chen Zhou thought about it, the more feasible it seemed.
What did Xuandu admire? Talent, potential, and character.
Wu Gou possessed all three: a soul age of less than a year, the foundation of the Northern Region's only true Buddha, a cultivation at the seventh-stage second symbiosis contract, and the Buddhist dharma and wisdom he once held as Ksitigarbha of Great Vows. He seemed playful and cynical, but in reality, he possessed a calm that saw through life and death.
Coupled with the boost from the Wenchang destiny, his chances of passing the three trials of the Xuandu Ghost Mansion were likely certain.
He patted Wu Gou’s bald head, feeling in high spirits.
The Plague Rat was squatting on a chair, his rat tail dangling over the back and wagging rhythmically.
He squinted at the golden light fading from Wu Gou, muttering incessantly.
“Wenchang Noble, Wenchang Noble... even a bald ass can become a Wenchang Noble. Why hasn't Lord Rat run into such a good thing?”
“Lord Rat also wants a big promotion.”
Chen Zhou took the dark red Yao Grass from his system space and held it out to the Plague Rat.
The Plague Rat froze, his crimson eyes staring at the lingzhi for several breaths before he suddenly jumped up from his chair, nearly knocking over the dishes in front of him.
“Isn't this that mushroom from underground? Are you really giving this to Lord Rat?”
“I said I would give it to you.” Chen Zhou tucked the Yao Grass into the rat’s arms. “The original owner of the Yao Grass also agreed. If it’s useful to you, take it.”
The Plague Rat cradled the lingzhi, beaming with joy.
He could feel the plague origin contained within the lingzhi; the power was so dense it felt like a solidified liquid surging in his palms. it resonated with his Heart of Plague, making the death qi in his body boil.
Jing He approached at some point, standing behind the Plague Rat and staring at the lingzhi with a slight frown.
He reached out a hand to hover over the lingzhi, a dusty yellow mist seeping from his fingertips to brush against the lingzhi’s aura.
“As expected.”
The Plague Rat looked back at him, clutching the lingzhi to his chest like a treasure. “As expected of what? This is a treasure the Lord gave to Lord Rat. Don't touch it, you old fossil.”
Jing He withdrew his hand, his tone flat. “What is contained in this Yao Grass is not just the plague origin.”
“What else is there?”
“Defiled earth,” Jing He said. “The gray-white soil that condenses within the Lord’s Ghost Domain. It is the purest sediment of death qi.”
“Plague and defiled earth are mutually generative and complementary. Plague is born from defiled earth, and defiled earth nurtures plague. The two are originally from the same source.”
Jing He showed a rare trace of a smile. “I can guide you in completely absorbing and refining this Yao Grass.”
“If all goes well, once you finish absorbing it, you will be able to condense a true Heart of Myriad Filths within your body.”
The Plague Rat’s eyes widened so far they nearly popped out of his head. “A Heart of Myriad Filths?! The one you mentioned before?!”
“Precisely,” Jing He said.
“When Tianchi Province was driven into a corner back then, I thought of many ways to alleviate the crisis. Among them was the use of the Heart of Myriad Filths. I managed to grope my way toward some methods, but unfortunately, I failed to truly condense it in the end.”
“Now that you have an eighth-stage Yao Grass as a foundation, although you haven't reached the eighth-stage Siming, you have long since become an evil spirit body and possess Siming power. Thus, the chance of success is at least seventy percent.”
The Plague Rat was exceptionally excited as he held the lingzhi.
He turned and grabbed Jing He’s leg, his face covered in a fawning smile. “Master! You are Lord Rat’s real master!”
“Lord Rat will definitely treat you with great filial piety from now on!”
Jing He looked down at the Plague Rat hanging from his leg and pulled it away expressionlessly. “Put the Yao Grass away first. Don't go waving an eighth-stage evil spirit around at a victory banquet.”
“Though the Yao Grass is currently in an inactive state, you know that evil spirits are immortal and indestructible; it could revive at any moment.”
“Right, right!” The Plague Rat hurried to stuff the lingzhi into his robe, then felt it wasn't safe, so he tucked it into his Ghost Domain. Still feeling uneasy, he finally just shoved the lingzhi into his mouth and swallowed it whole.
Jing He’s eyebrow twitched. “What are you doing?”
“Storing it,” the Plague Rat said as if it were obvious. “Only what’s in your belly is truly yours. That’s the experience Lord Rat gained from living in Tianchi Province for three hundred years.”
The Plague Rat patted his stomach, but his expression suddenly changed. He let out a loud burp, and a puff of gray-white mist drifted from his mouth.
He quickly covered his mouth and said in a muffled voice, “It’s just a bit bloating.”
Jing He sighed and turned back to his own seat.
After swallowing the lingzhi, the Plague Rat was walking on air. He swaggered back to his chair, crossed his legs, and looked around triumphantly.
Poison-Wing was slumped on the table, his chin resting on his arms as he stared straight at the Plague Rat. His eyes held envy, longing, and a hint of inexplicable grievance.
Feeling the gaze, the Plague Rat became even more smug, intentionally puffing out his chest. “Little Ten, what are you looking at?”
Poison-Wing said nothing, merely turning his face away to show the back of his head to the rat.
Back in the Southern Region, he had also been a demon king, commanding hundreds of demons and monsters. He was a figure of note in the entire Ten Thousand Miasma Valley, second only to the Toad Saint.
But since following the Lord, he had found that he couldn't seem to compare to anyone else.
The people around the Lord were more monstrous than the last.
Jian Huaishuang went without saying; his combat strength was absurdly high, he was the Lord’s exclusive vessel, and the person the Lord trusted most.
Hong Ling managed the entire City of the Wrongfully Dead’s administration perfectly.
Piao could swallow copper poison and even devour the abilities and memories of others.
Wu Gou was the reincarnation of Ksitigarbha of Great Vows’ good thoughts and now had a Wenchang destiny.
Even the Plague Rat, who bickered and fought with him every day, was now going to condense a Heart of Myriad Filths.
Looking at himself, besides a Calamity destiny and a body of poison fire, he didn't seem to have anything impressive to show.
The Lord had ranked him tenth among the Auspicious Ones. If this continued, he wouldn't even be able to beat the Huo Dou little pig in the future. Would he be removed from the zodiac by the Lord?
Su Xue, sitting beside him, saw through his thoughts. She set down her chopsticks and gently patted the back of Poison-Wing’s hand.
“There is no need to be envious.”
Poison-Wing said in a muffled voice, “I’m not envious. I’m happy that Brother Rat can reach a higher level, but I just feel... why can't I compare to anyone else?”
“Everyone has their own fate and opportunities,” Su Xue’s voice was gentle, like a spring breeze brushing past the ear.
“Back in the Southern Region, I was ostracized by the other demons and depended on you and Poison Pheasant for survival. Back then, I never imagined that one day I would meet the Lord, be able to leave that miasma-filled place, and see the world outside.”
Poison-Wing raised his head, looking at Su Xue, then at Chen Zhou at the head of the table.
Su Xue continued, “To have met the Lord is already a heaven-sent opportunity.”
Poison-Wing was silent for a while before saying in a low voice, “Sister, you’re right.”
He took a deep breath and sat up straight. The grievance in his eyes lessened, though the trace of longing hadn't completely vanished.
Seeing that he was still a bit downcast, Su Xue added, “Perhaps your opportunity lies in the next province.”
Chen Zhou watched this scene but said nothing more. He stood up and walked to the center of the courtyard, raising a hand to signal for silence.
“I have something to announce.”
The courtyard fell silent immediately. Everyone set down their bowls and chopsticks, turning to look at him.
“All those whose rank exceeds the seventh-stage may go fishing in the moat tomorrow.”
Everyone looked at each other in confusion.
The Plague Rat was the first to raise his hand. “Lord, isn't the moat just the Black Sludge Boundary? Lord Rat passes it every day and hasn't seen any fish in there.”
Su Xue said softly, “The fishing the Lord speaks of is likely no ordinary fishing.”
Poison-Wing scratched his head. “The water in the moat is black and stinking. Are the fish caught there even edible?”
His focus was always a bit different from normal people.
Chen Zhou looked around at everyone and said calmly, “The moat of the City of the Wrongfully Dead is no ordinary river, nor is it a simple defensive array.”
Everyone looked at him with even more curiosity.
Chen Zhou didn't keep them in suspense, stating directly, “That river was formed from a branch of the Wanchuan River once governed by the Northern Great Emperor, and it is named the Black Sludge Pond.”
“Deposited within the pond are countless ancient legacies from the Wanchuan River, including but not limited to divine path techniques, ancient divine weapons, heavenly treasures, and even godhead fragments.”
A deathly silence fell over the courtyard.
Immediately after, everyone’s expressions changed.
The Plague Rat was the first to react, jumping down from his chair and rushing to Chen Zhou in a flash. He looked up at him and asked, “What did you say, Lord?! Godhead fragments?! You can catch those by fishing?!”
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