Chapter Fifty-Nine: Return to the East

"What now, are you frightened again?" Despite feeling a chill himself, Yin Seventeen couldn't help but tease the girl beside him.

Earlier, when they climbed up to the Cancer Temple, Ruolan had hidden behind him, not daring to come out. But even if she didn't say a word, he understood the reason. The Cancer Temple was simply too eerie, too terrifying.

Among all the Twelve Temples, none was more grim and gruesome than this one. The stone pillars, the floors, the very ceilings—every surface was inlaid with countless twisted, contorted faces. They were the souls of the dead, sealed within the stone, their visages forever frozen in agony. Each face belonged to someone lost—old men, children, women, men—innumerable and unending.

No one knew where Deathmask, the Gold Saint who guarded the Cancer Temple, had found so many dead souls to imprison here. Passing through the Cancer Temple was no different from walking through a graveyard—except here, the dead truly lingered.

What was most terrible was that a graveyard only sounded frightening, but in the Cancer Temple, the dead spirits were real. Anyone who passed through felt as if they stood on death’s very threshold, at any moment liable to become one more wailing specter among them. For a girl like Ruolan, it was almost unbearable—but even someone as mature as Yin Seventeen found it hard to endure.

“Stop… stop talking. Just lead the way, please, Lord Seventeen!” Ruolan, pale as a ghost herself, hurried him on, her voice trembling.

Seeing her so shaken, Yin Seventeen refrained from further teasing and forced himself to move steadily forward. Ruolan gripped the hem of his robe, sticking close behind.

Inside the Cancer Temple, a gray mist hung in the air, blotting out the little light that managed to filter in from outside, making the temple even darker and more terrifying. Yin Seventeen had no choice but to press on, relying on his spiritual senses to grope for the exit. Yet he could distinctly feel, with every few steps, his foot would land on a strangely shaped "floor tile."

He dared not look down, for he knew well enough—they were the masks of the imprisoned dead.

As for Ruolan, she had closed her eyes the moment they entered the Cancer Temple, even suppressing her own spiritual senses, not daring to let them wander.

She was terrified of "seeing" something she ought not.

But as fate would have it, what you fear always finds you. Their tightly wound nerves did not escape the notice of Deathmask, the Cancer Temple’s guardian.

"Frightened, are you? Then I suppose I should play with you two a little," Deathmask mused, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He proceeded to secretly guide the two into Yomotsu Hirasaka, the path to the Underworld, giving them a good scare before "reluctantly" leading them back to the Cancer Temple. The only hitch was that he nearly stumbled and fell into the Underworld himself, making a fool of himself in front of his juniors.

As soon as they returned to the Cancer Temple, Ruolan bolted for the exit without a word and vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving both Yin Seventeen and Deathmask dumbfounded.

"It's just a few spirits—what's so terrifying about that?" Deathmask eyed Yin Seventeen suspiciously.

"My lord, you spend your days among the dead, so you’re used to their presence. For us, though, these things are far from ordinary!" Yin Seventeen replied with a wry smile. Spirits were the embodiment of death; even though he had mastered the power of the Cosmos and could see such beings, they still made him uneasy.

"Coward," Deathmask snorted.

Yin Seventeen could only twitch his lips in silent resignation. "If there's nothing else, my lord, I’ll take my leave."

"Wait," Deathmask called out, then added, "What happened today—I don't want a fourth person to know. Understand?"

"Understood, understood!" Yin Seventeen nodded rapidly, not daring to hesitate.

"That’s all. You may go," Deathmask waved him off.

"Yes, sir!"

Yin Seventeen turned and left. Without Deathmask’s games, he quickly found his way out of the Cancer Temple.

On the steps outside, Ruolan was already waiting for him.

"What a pity! Just a little further and that scoundrel would have fallen into the Underworld rift!" she complained bitterly when Yin Seventeen emerged. Clearly, Deathmask had truly frightened her this time—she still hadn’t let it go.

"Enough. Don’t mind him! Let’s hurry down the mountain. I can’t wait to return to the East," Yin Seventeen said with a smile.

"Alright!"

Hearing him mention the East, the gloom that had clouded the girl’s face lifted, and a smile returned to her lips.

Perhaps only Deathmask was so troublesome. The guardians of the following temples did not make things difficult for them, and the two descended the holy mountain with ease.

Then, the two set off at full speed toward Asia. With Europe and Asia connected by land, they no longer needed to fly across the sea—they could simply run.

They crossed the Middle Eastern deserts, scaled the Tibetan Plateau, and in less than ten minutes, arrived at the Yellow River basin.

"Let’s part ways here. Shall we meet again in ten days at the foot of Mount Lu?" Yin Seventeen proposed loudly beside the river.

Each had personal matters to attend to, making it inconvenient to travel together.

"Agreed!" the girl called back. "In ten days, I’ll take you to meet Master Dohko!"

With a flicker of light, she leapt into the sky and vanished.

Watching her go, Yin Seventeen turned his gaze to the surging river.

The same river, the same waters, even the people on its banks shared the same color of skin. Yet this land was no longer the place he remembered. He knew this, but seeing the river with his own eyes, he found it hard to let go.

It was impossible to think of this land as a foreign country. He did not know what attitude he should take toward this place that was both familiar and strange.

Lost, confused, melancholic…

He stood by the Yellow River for nearly an hour until an old farmer approached and startled him from his reverie.

"Young man, don’t stand in such a dangerous spot! Be careful or a wave might sweep you into the river!" the old man called out from a few meters away.

"Thank you for the warning, sir. I’ll be careful," Yin Seventeen replied with a smile, then turned and left.

The old man was about to say more but found that the young man had disappeared.

"Did I just see a ghost?" the old man muttered, scratching his head in confusion.

He didn’t realize that he had truly seen Yin Seventeen, but when the youth turned to leave, he moved at hundreds of times the speed of sound, vanishing from sight in an instant.

Thus, to the old man, it seemed as though Yin Seventeen had simply evaporated into thin air.

By the time Yin Seventeen appeared again, he had already arrived at a deserted, abandoned village.