Lu Dongshan was a Soul Formation powerhouse. His instincts were rarely wrong.

And this time, his guess was terrifyingly accurate.

Gu Xiu had indeed obtained a Fated Chance—one so immense it defied imagination.

Deep within Gu Xiu’s Dantian, the landscape of his cultivation had changed. Alongside the Auspicious Clouds Eight Trigrams Indestructible Dao Platform, the Seven Treasures Lotus Dao Platform, and the Five Elements Immortal Gate Chessboard Dao Platform, a fourth structure had emerged.

It was less of a platform and more of a garden from the underworld.

The base was formed of soil that shimmered with a deep, mystical purple luster. Pale, bone-white roots sprawled across this earth like a nervous system, feeding what grew above.

In the center stood a single flower. Its petals were a fiery, bleeding red, curving backward in a trumpet shape, with a glowing pistil rising from its heart. It possessed an eldritch beauty—a sight that made the soul yearn to abandon the body and sink into its embrace. It promised paradise. It whispered of the end.

Surrounding this single crimson bloom was a sea of black flowers. Pitch-dark as ink, they lacked the seductive allure of the red center. Instead, they radiated a crushing solemnity. Paired with the pale white roots, they looked like death itself made manifest.

This was Gu Xiu’s fourth foundation.

The Yin-Yang Purple Qi Higanbana Dao Platform.

It was a miracle forged from tragedy and fortune. The purple soil was constructed from the sacrificed soul of Sang Shoudao; the flower was the manifestation of the Higanbana—the Flower of the Other Shore—governing the forces of Yin and Yang.

Like his other platforms, it was born with the trait of Indestructibility and the Immortal-concealing nature of the Chessboard.

But it possessed one unique, terrifying ability.

It bridged the gap between Life and Death.

The moment the platform solidified, Gu Xiu felt a shift in his perception. The veil between worlds grew thin.

“Damn it,” Lu Dongshan’s voice cut through his meditation, sharp with tension. “The Yin Soldiers have marched on, but their residue remains. The Extreme Yin Qi hasn’t dissipated. We’re surrounded.”

Gu Xiu opened his eyes.

To the naked eye, the air around the black-canopied boat seemed empty. The sky was clear, the mountains silent. But he could feel the biting cold of a spectral wind against his skin.

He activated the Yin-Yang Purple Qi Higanbana Dao Platform.

His vision shifted. The world twisted.

The empty air was no longer empty.

Surrounding the boat were thousands of ghastly, distorted figures. They floated in a dense, suffocating cloud, their faces twisted in silent screams. It was a sight that would make a mortal’s blood freeze instantly. Some had even drifted onto the deck, hovering inches from their faces.

Gu Xiu reached out, attempting to touch the nearest spirit. His hand passed straight through the misty form, cold but insubstantial.

“Don’t bother,” Lu Dongshan warned, already pulling a stack of yellow talismans from his robes. “Your cultivation has fallen. Without a condensed Divine Soul Sea of Consciousness, you can’t touch them.”

The Soul Formation expert’s expression was grim. “Yin and Yang are separated by natural law. We occupy different planes. But if they linger too long, they’ll latch onto us like maggots on bone, draining our vitality. Worse, if we make too much noise, we might attract a Ghost King… or something even worse.”

Lu Dongshan’s hands moved rapidly, preparing his spells. “I haven’t been in the Soul Formation realm long. My anti-ghost methods are lacking. I can clear a path, but I can’t kill this many. You take the helm. I’ll use Thunder Talismans to blast a hole in their ranks. When I signal, you drive the boat and—”

Lu Dongshan stopped.

His jaw went slack. He stared blankly at the space directly in front of Gu Xiu.

There, a Yin soul was screaming.

It wasn’t making a sound, but its mouth was wide open in agony. It was engulfed in roaring flames. The ghost thrashed wildly, trying to extinguish the fire, but the flames were relentless. Within seconds, the spirit was reduced to nothingness, burned away completely.

Lu Dongshan looked at his high-level Thunder Talismans. Then he looked at Gu Xiu.

“You… how did you do that?”

“Like this,” Gu Xiu said calmly.

He raised a single finger. A small fireball, the size of a fist, materialized above it. With a casual flick, he tossed it at another drifting ghost.

Whoosh.

The spirit ignited instantly. Like dry paper meeting a torch, it was consumed by the flames and vanished.

Lu Dongshan felt his brain short-circuit. He recognized the spell immediately. It was the Fireball Technique. The most basic, entry-level spell that even a Qi Condensation rookie learned on day one.

“Are… are you kidding me?” Lu Dongshan stammered. “Yin and Yang do not interact! Unless you are a Soul Formation expert or a Ghost King, physical attacks shouldn’t connect! How are you burning ghosts with a basic Fireball Technique?”

Gu Xiu didn’t answer. He simply smiled.

Lu Dongshan, refusing to believe his eyes, formed a seal and conjured his own fireball. He hurled it at a nearby ghost.

The fireball passed harmlessly through the spirit’s chest, flew out over the railing, and dissipated into the air.

Zero damage.

Lu Dongshan looked at Gu Xiu with a gaze that bordered on suspicion. “You… you’re not dead, are you? Did you turn into a Ghost Cultivator? No, that doesn’t make sense either. Ghosts don’t use fire magic.”

Gu Xiu ignored the older man’s existential crisis. He drew the Shadow Chasing Sword.

With a lazy, almost bored motion, he thrust the blade forward.

Lu Dongshan shook his head, sighing. “Fire, I can maybe explain with elemental counters. But a sword? Trying to cut a ghost with physical steel is just a fool’s dre—”

The word died in his throat.

Gu Xiu’s sword didn’t pass through.

The blade bit into the spectral form. A pitch-black scar appeared on the ghost’s body where the steel had connected. Black smoke hissed from the wound as if the spirit was deflating. In an instant, the ghost destabilized and dissolved.

Lu Dongshan stood frozen.

The ghost was dead.

Killed by a sword. Without using Divine Soul power. Without using secret exorcism arts.

Just… stabbed.

“How?” Lu Dongshan whispered. “How is this possible?”

“Letting them gather like this is annoying,” Gu Xiu murmured.

He closed his eyes.

When he opened them a split second later, the air around the boat grew heavy with moisture.

Rain Falling Forms a Realm.

Ghostly rain began to fall from the clear sky. Gu Xiu caught a single droplet on his fingertip.

“Mark the target. Kill.”

The droplet shattered.

Instantly, the gentle rain transformed. Every drop became a lethal needle of Sword Qi. A storm of sword intent erupted outward, sweeping across the sky in a terrifying omnidirectional blast.

Lu Dongshan watched, eyes bulging, as the “invincible” spectral army was shredded.

The dense wall of Yin souls surrounding the boat didn’t stand a chance. Under the torrential bombardment of Gu Xiu’s sword rain, they were annihilated.

The few ghosts on the periphery that survived the initial volley froze. They looked at the boat, then at the dissipated comrades, and collectively decided that the afterlife wasn’t worth this.

They turned and fled, screaming silently, scrambling over each other to escape the monster on the boat.

Who was the real ghost here? This human could kill the dead!

In the blink of an eye, the oppressive Yin gloom vanished. The sun shone down. The Yang energy in the air was vibrant and warm.

This Dao Platform… Gu Xiu mused, inspecting his internal state. It doesn’t give me a raw power boost, but it allows my attacks to bypass the barrier between the living and the dead. Unique indeed.

His thoughts drifted back to the white jade sedan.

Was the occupant human? A ghost? Or something else entirely?

And why give him the Higanbana? Just for a “good affinity”?

For the first time in a long while, Gu Xiu felt a sense of awe. Not fear of the entity, but respect for the sheer scale of the universe. The world was vast. Even with his knowledge of the next ten thousand years, he realized he had been a frog at the bottom of a well. There were mysteries here that even he had not touched.

But that was fine.

The Dao is ahead. The path is underfoot.

Even a frog in a well can leap out if it has the strength. And Gu Xiu had plenty of confidence.

While Gu Xiu contemplated the cosmos, Lu Dongshan sat down heavily on the prow of the boat.

He crossed his legs. He closed his eyes. He began to cultivate with a ferocity that was almost frightening.

This was a drastic change. Just days ago, the Soul Formation expert had claimed he wanted to take it easy, to spend two hundred years “tempering his heart” and enjoying life. Now? He looked like a man possessed.

Gu Xiu shrugged. At least it was quiet. He tossed a handful of Spirit Stones to the little black monkey and returned to his own meditation.

Gu Xiu didn’t know the turmoil raging inside Lu Dongshan’s mind.

Dammit!

He beat me five hundred years ago. I thought I finally had the upper hand! I thought I could be the big brother!

Cultivate! I must cultivate!

If this kid catches up to my cultivation level in a few years, where will I put my face? I am the Dongshan War God! I cannot be humiliated like this!

Cultivate to the death!

It was the pressure of a rival. Lu Dongshan no longer wanted to fight Gu Xiu, and he accepted that the boy would eventually surpass him. But not today. And definitely not easily.

He, Lu Dongshan, had made a decision.

He would strive to become strong!

For the next two days, the black-canopied boat was utterly silent. Both men cultivated as if their lives depended on it.

Finally, the boat slowed to a halt.

Two pairs of eyes opened in unison.

Below them lay a vast expanse of water and mountains.

The Bibo Sect.

They had arrived.