WBICDPH Chapter 68

Chapter 68: Caught Between Choices

The formation’s core—the array eye—was the key to its existence and also its weakest point. Once the array eye was broken, no matter how strange or complex the formation, it would collapse in an instant.

They now had a method to break the formation and could soon escape their predicament. Even so, Lin Jin felt uneasy. This situation was too unusual.

This time, the array eye was not a flower, a blade of grass, or a tree that could be uprooted or discarded at will. The puppet master had built the formation on a human foundation, with a ghost serving as the array eye. To break it, there was only one way: destroy the ghost.

But a “ghost” was not necessarily the same as a “villain beyond redemption.” The Mission Hall had always upheld salvation as its guiding principle. Extermination was a last resort, reserved only for spirits who had slaughtered countless innocents and shown no remorse. As far as Lin Jin could tell, Zhu Eryao had done nothing truly heinous. The ghostly mist trapping Shuangxi Village was not her doing. The formation that had imprisoned and killed cultivators was not of her making. The three times she had appeared beside him, she had never made any move that might harm him.

On the contrary, the fields blooming overnight with Seven-Emotion Flowers silently accused the immense malice that had been buried here for years.

What exactly had happened back then? And why had Zhu Eryao chosen to die in a wedding dress inside the Mountain God Temple?

Was it, as Zhao Kang claimed, love unreturned turning into hatred? Or had she encountered a faithless man like Chen Shimei?

Lin Jin knew what they should do: uncover the truth step by step, clear the wrongs of injustice, and rescue those in peril.

Given enough time, none of that would be difficult. But time was the one thing they lacked.

If they followed their original plan and slowly investigated every detail, the formation would gradually strip away their strength—and even their senses—until they were nothing but prey, at the mercy of others. Yet if they wanted to escape quickly, they would have to sacrifice Zhu Eryao to break the array.

Following behind Hua Nanzhi up the narrow mountain path, Lin Jin stared at the ground, his thoughts heavy.

With a Light-Congealing Talisman in hand, Hua Nanzhi walked ahead, pushing aside branches that blocked their way and checking the map from time to time. After a moment, as if recalling something, she turned back.

“Oh, right, Lin Lin—you said earlier that Zhu Eryao was leaning over you, looking for something. What was she searching for?”

Lin Jin snapped out of his thoughts and shook his head. “I don’t know. I tried to recall it later. While she was searching, she kept muttering—something like ‘哥哥’ (older brother) and something about ‘three’ and ‘bead.’ I didn’t hear clearly.”

“Older brother? A bead? What bead? Did you take her brother’s bead?”

Hua Nanzhi pieced the words together and asked casually.

Lin Jin let out a helpless laugh. “Where would I get her bead? I’m not some young lady covered in dangling ornaments. What bead could I possibly have…”

Mid-sentence, he suddenly froze. The faint smile on his lips stilled.

Wait.

A bead?

A memory surfaced from the corner of his mind. He immediately reached into his storage ring and took something out.

“Could it be… this?”

Curious, Hua Nanzhi glanced back.

Resting in Lin Jin’s palm was a round, lustrous red coral bead of exceptional quality.

“This one? The bead we bought at Zhizhen Pavilion for two thousand top-grade spirit stones?!”

She deliberately emphasized “two thousand,” clearly still pained by the expense.

“That’s right. Do you remember how the auctioneer described it? She said it was called ‘The Ghost Bride’s Red Coral Bead,’ a cherished possession of a high-ranking red-clad vengeful spirit. Now that I think about it… those descriptions seem to match Zhu Eryao.”

“That can’t be.” Hua Nanzhi took the bead and examined it under the talisman’s light. “Coral beads of this quality are rare. My father only brought back a few from the Eastern Sea over the years. I never even got one—he turned them all into jewelry and gifted them to the Grand Princess. They should be in the imperial treasury. How could this have belonged to Zhu Eryao?”

Lin Jin pressed his lips together. “She may have been just a village girl. But what if someone gave it to her? For example… Zhou Wencai? When she muttered ‘哥哥,’ could she have meant ‘Brother Wencai’?”

Hua Nanzhi blinked. “Zhou Wencai? The Zhou family’s top scholar?”

“Yes. Remember the story I told you? After Chen Shimei became a top scholar, the emperor wanted him as a son-in-law. What if Zhou Wencai had the same fortune? I wasn’t entirely clear-headed when I argued with Zhou’s mother, but I distinctly remember her saying, ‘My son is the top scholar—he’s going to marry a princess.’ Maybe it wasn’t idle boasting. If Zhou Wencai truly became the imperial son-in-law, it wouldn’t be strange for him to obtain a coral bead from the princess’s jewelry.”

The more Lin Jin spoke, the tighter his brows knitted.

Hua Nanzhi followed the logic, then exploded in anger. “What?! So, your Chen Shimei abandoned his wife and child to become a prince consort—and this Zhou Wencai is even worse? Enjoying wealth and status as a royal son-in-law while secretly stealing the princess’s bead to give to his childhood sweetheart? What kind of scum is that?! And the village chief and that Zhou woman still claim Zhou Wencai never liked Zhu Eryao—that she was the one clinging to him? They twist the truth and claim all the reasons for themselves!

“Calm down, calm down,” Lin Jin said as he put the bead away. “It’s just speculation. I could be overthinking.”

They had come to the back mountain once before, but it had been late and the path difficult, so they had only marked the temple’s location from afar. This was their first real ascent.

Fortunately, the villagers seemed devout believers of the “Mountain God.” A narrow trail had been worn into the earth from frequent pilgrimages, making it easier for outsiders like them.

The Mountain God Temple stood halfway up the mountain, a large courtyard enclosed by high walls decorated with colorful silk, giving it a strangely festive air.

Inside the courtyard stood a two-person-tall clay statue of an elderly figure sitting cross-legged and holding wheat stalks. Years of wind and rain had blurred its features; its painted colors had peeled away into mottled fragments.

At its feet sat an offering table with several rotting fruits and a worn incense burner filled with crooked sticks of incense.

But something else caught Lin Jin’s attention.

In the middle of the courtyard, apart from the statue and offering table, stood a square platform. Three adult steps wide, it was placed in a precise position. When Lin Jin knelt at its center and looked up, his gaze met the statue’s slightly lowered eyes.

“What is this platform for?” Hua Nanzhi asked, tapping its edge. “I’ve seen temples before, but never a platform like this in front of a statue. A stage? To perform opera for the god? It’s too small.”

Lin Jin smiled faintly. “I think it’s an altar.”

“An altar?!”

“In some places, villagers seek protection by offering livestock to their so-called mountain gods—binding pigs or sheep with red silk and placing them on the altar as tribute.”

As he spoke, he took out the red coral bead and slowly set it before him.

The instant the bead touched the altar—

A cold wind howled. The thick ghostly mist above churned violently.

White vapor seeped from the ground, gathering and coalescing into a vivid red phantom.

Under dark clouds, Zhu Eryao appeared. With pale eyes, she knelt opposite Lin Jin.

After a long moment, she cautiously reached toward the bead.

“Don’t.”

Lin Jin stopped her.

Her fingers halted midair.

She could have seized the bead and vanished, but she didn’t. Though unwilling, she withdrew her hand.

“But…” she murmured, “it was mine to begin with… Why can’t you return it?”

Her voice trembled. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she wiped them with her wedding sleeve and began to cry.

Lin Jin stared at her, conflicted.

Weren’t ghosts supposed to embody only resentment and hatred? Weren’t red-clad spirits ruthless killers? Weren’t ghosts incapable of tears?

Then what was this trembling, weeping figure before him?

He sighed softly and, as planned, pressed a ninth-tier Soul-Stabilizing Talisman into her form.

Startled, she tried to shake it off and dissolve into mist, but she could not escape.

“You can’t run,” Lin Jin said quietly. “Now… we should disperse her. The formation will break, the mist will clear, and Shuangxi Village will be saved. Our mission will be complete.”

He summoned his Shan Hai Brush.

Only he could see her. Only he could end this.

It would be simple—a lethal talisman drawn in a single stroke, empowered by the Soul-Stabilizing Seal.

Zhu Eryao clutched the coral bead to her chest, trembling. Trapped in place, she looked at him through tear-filled eyes.

“Did I do something bad? Is that why you’re going to kill me?”

Lin Jin said nothing.

He raised his brush.

They couldn’t delay. The formation was too dangerous. His companions’ safety mattered more. This wasn’t even the real world—it was just a book. As a cultivator, slaying a ghost was part of his duty.

And yet—

Zhu Eryao curled up, eyes squeezed shut, waiting for judgment.

The unfinished talisman at the tip of his brush collapsed before it could take form.