The fragrance was sweet and cloying with a hint of spiciness, like strong liquor brewed from overripe fruit, mixed with an indescribable, bitter sorrow.
Hong Xiu's fingertips flicked rapidly through the empty air. The fragrance condensed into scarlet threads, which wove themselves under her control into a massive net of emotion that blanketed the sky.
Hong Xiu stood outside the net. The gold-threaded peonies on the round fan in her hand had all drifted away, leaving only a bare fan bone.
But she did not care in the slightest. She casually slipped the fan bone into her sleeve, crossed her arms over her chest, and tilted her head to look at the three albino Mansion Spirits trapped inside the net.
Kui Mu Lang rampaged inside the net, his sharp claws tearing through the air. However, the threads were incredibly elastic; swept aside by the wind of his claws, they immediately snapped back, wrapping around his limbs and torso, binding him tighter and tighter.
Bi Yue Wu attempted to slip into the shadows, but the scarlet light filtering through the gaps of the threads illuminated his shadow so brightly that he had nowhere to hide. The white feathers on his body rustled and fell under the tearing force of the fragrant wind.
Wei Tu Zhi stood in the center of the net, holding her longbow level. A white arrow was nocked on the string, its tip pointed straight at Hong Xiu, but she hesitated to release it.
Looking at her stance, the smile at the corners of Hong Xiu's lips deepened slightly.
Wei Tu Zhi's fingers were trembling.
It was not very obvious, but how could anything inside the net escape Hong Xiu's perception?
“As I thought,” Hong Xiu murmured softly.
The moment the net of emotion unfurled, she had sensed a powerful surge of emotion churning within the seas of consciousness of these three individuals.
It was an overwhelming, thick grief that could not be dissolved.
The sensation was identical to the aura that had overflowed from the memory fragments earlier.
Their divine souls were like three jars filled to the brim with filthy water, with grief churning violently inside, nearly splitting the jars apart.
This was the very root of their albinism.
Yet, it was also the source of their power.
Having cultivated the Path of Extreme Emotions for so many years, Hong Xiu understood one thing perfectly: anything driven by emotion would be completely ruined once that emotion was stripped away.
Hong Xiu narrowed her eyes, brought her hands together, and gave a gentle tug.
The net of emotion suddenly tightened.
The scarlet threads rapidly contracted, cutting into the bodies of the three Mansion Spirits. At the same time, Hong Xiu closed her eyes and sank her divine soul deep into her sea of consciousness, sealing it off layer by layer.
Her joy, her anger, her sorrow, her fear, her love, her hatred, and her desire—the seven emotions and six desires were locked away one by one.
The moment the net of emotion tightened completely, the three Mansion Spirits let out a low, sorrowful wail in unison.
Wei Tu Zhi's bowstring loosened, and the arrow she shot flew erratically, its trajectory drifting wildly. It missed Chen Zhou by at least three zhang, thudding into the distant ruins with a dull thud.
She gasped heavily, her fingers clenching and unclenching around the bow, fighting desperately against some unseen force for control of her own body.
“Incredible!” Plague Rat exclaimed, his tail curling high in the air. “Little Hong, you really have some tricks up your sleeve!”
Hong Xiu sneered, keeping her eyes closed as she maintained her hand seal, though a thin layer of sweat had already beaded on her forehead.
Although she had locked away her own emotions, maintaining the net of emotion required a continuous output of power, which was no small drain.
On the other side, Plague Rat charged straight out.
He had been chased all over the place by Kui Mu Lang earlier, and the three claw marks on his shoulder were still burning with pain. He was harboring a belly full of rage with nowhere to vent it.
Now that Kui Mu Lang was weakened by Hong Xiu, moving as slowly as a dumb dog with his healing ability mostly crippled, how could Plague Rat pass up this opportunity?
Dark green death qi condensed into five slender needles at the tips of Plague Rat's claws. With a flicker of his body, he appeared directly in front of Kui Mu Lang, raising his claws to strike right at the face.
“Hehehe, weren't you acting all tough just now?”
“Go on, keep acting arrogant in front of your Lord Rat!”
The claw tips tore through Kui Mu Lang's cheek, drawing a spray of white blood. Kui Mu Lang grunted and tried to raise his hand to block, but his arm froze halfway up under the binding of the net of emotion, moving painfully slow.
Showing no mercy, Plague Rat swiped back with another claw, scratching from the chin all the way up to the forehead, leaving five deep wounds that exposed the bone.
The wounds rapidly festered, spreading across his entire body.
Plague Rat cursed as he beat his opponent, his movements fast and ruthless as he vented the frustration of being suppressed so badly earlier.
“You little punk, now you know how powerful Lord Rat is!”
Taotie flanked from the other side, swinging his massive warhammer with a fierce wind, smashing it hard against Kui Mu Lang's back and sending him crashing face-first to the ground.
Kui Mu Lang tried to roll over and get up, but Taotie gave him no chance. He pinned Kui Mu Lang's spine down with his massive foot, raising the warhammer and slamming it down repeatedly, making the ground tremble with each strike.
Bi Yue Wu did not escape the fate of being brutally beaten either.
His ability was mostly crippled under the dual suppression of the net of emotion and Dou Mu Xie's moonlight. He could not condense his clones, nor could he slip into the shadows, leaving him to flap his wings in vain.
After thrashing Kui Mu Lang, Plague Rat left him to slowly rot away and turned his attention to Bi Yue Wu, quickly pinning him to the ground and grinding him into the dirt.
Hong Xiu watched expressionlessly as Dou Mu Xie's moonlight poured down from above. Under the lunar glow, the albino pollution within the three Mansion Spirits was suppressed completely, and the aura of grief continued to be stripped away by the net of emotion.
Standing on the edge of the battlefield, Chen Zhou pulled out Shen Shui Yuan's bone carving and weighed it in his palm.
“A pity,” Chen Zhou murmured softly.
Although Shen Shui Yuan was already in his possession, he did not have enough bone material on hand to summon him.
“Shen Liang,” Chen Zhou called out.
Shen Liang approached from behind in response. His steps were somewhat staggered, and his face was still terribly pale, but at least he was no longer out of control.
Taotie's frantic, pleading wails from earlier had clearly had some effect; Shen Liang at least remembered that he could not cause trouble for the Young Palace Master.
“Young Palace Master...” Shen Liang stood before Chen Zhou, his hands clenching and unclenching. “Your subordinate is here.”
“Water.”
Shen Liang blanked for a moment, then immediately understood.
He squatted down, pressed his hands against the ground, and took a deep breath, firmly suppressing the restless, grief-filled emotions within his sea of consciousness. Then, he channeled the floodwaters within his body.
The ground began to vibrate.
Yellowish-brown water welled up from beneath the earth, gathering into a churning torrent around his feet in the blink of an eye.
The water surged in all directions, washing over the ruins and covering a vast area in an incredibly short amount of time.
Chen Zhou looked down at the water's surface. Once the water level rose deep enough, he closed his eyes and once again connected with the River of the Underworld deep within his sea of consciousness.
This time, he had experience.
The water of the River of the Underworld gushed out from the void, its black currents merging into the floodwaters summoned by Shen Liang.
The water level continued to rise, its color shifting from yellowish-brown to a deep, pitch black. A metallic luster gleamed across the dark water.
A grayish-white boat sailed out from the darkness, a pale lantern hanging from its bow, swaying gently in the dim, gray light.
Chen Zhou stepped onto the boat, standing at the bow as he looked down at the sleeping passengers beneath the water's surface.
Squire Zhou's soul had already been laid to rest in the depths of the River of the Underworld. Now, he was going to send these three Mansion Spirits to find peace together.
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