After the Death Ceremony, I was Entangled by My Two Wives - Chapter 23

This wasn’t the first time Ying Buran had heard the words “Heaven’s Wrath.” She glanced again at the ghosts, noticing they seemed much fainter than the others. “Is this why their souls are so dim?”

Zhao Chao’an, who was searching for a crack in the barrier, paused to observe them and nodded. “Exactly. The Spirit of Heaven has stolen their life force, inevitably damaging their souls. Those who die like this, even if they’re lucky enough to cross the river and enter the Underworld, can’t be reincarnated. They’re doomed to wander the Underworld until Ghost Soldiers capture them for ‘unified disposal.'”

“Unified disposal? What does that mean?” Ying Buran asked, her heart racing.

Zhao Chao’an scratched her head, admitting, “I honestly don’t know. I’m one of the few Ghost Kings who rarely meddles in Underworld affairs. My focus has always been on Heaven’s Wrath and the Heavenly Sacrifice.”

Ying Buran nodded, letting Zhao Chao’an lead her by the hand, but her gaze lingered on the souls. After a moment, she asked, “What do you think about them? About what happened to them?”

“I regret their deaths, but I won’t pity them. It was their choice,” Zhao Chao’an said, stopping to look Ying Buran in the eyes, revealing her deepest feelings. “You might find me cold, but that’s how I truly feel. Moreover, as Ghost Kings, we’re forbidden from forming emotional attachments to souls in the Ghost Realm. It would undermine the Underworld’s order.”

Of course, Ying Buran was an exception. Zhao Chao’an had become Ghost King solely for her sake, a fact known to the other Ghost Kings. She had undergone judgment and pledged not to disrupt the Underworld’s balance.

As for why she felt no pity? As she had said earlier, it was their choice.

In her original timeline, the world had already learned the truth about the lies of Heavenly Sacrifice and Heaven’s Wrath. Yet most people still chose to worship the Spirit of Heaven, turning their blades against Zhao Chao’an and Ying Buran of that era. In the end, these very people were slain by the deity they revered.

Though she knew these weren’t the same individuals, she still found it difficult to feel sympathy, especially after Ying Buran’s death.

Ying Buran watched as the usually cheerful Zhao Chao’an suddenly fell silent, her expression hardening, her eyes flickering with sorrow and hatred. She said nothing more.

Her sudden hostility toward these people must have been triggered by something they had done. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have felt such unwarranted animosity.

Ying Buran followed Zhao Chao’an to the rift. Some lingering souls, still retaining consciousness, had noticed their actions and followed them here.

“What happens to them when they cross?” Ying Buran asked, watching several souls rush through the rift ahead of them.

Zhao Chao’an explained, “They’ll likely become vengeful spirits in the mortal realm, ultimately fading into nothingness. Let’s go.”

Ying Buran nodded and stepped into the glowing rift behind Zhao Chao’an. The moment she entered, she felt a gaze from behind. She wanted to turn back, but the blinding white light had already filled her vision.

On the River of Oblivion, the Ferryman slowly removed her hat. A massive scar ran across her face, stretching from her forehead, through her left eye, and down to her chin.

The Ferryman watched the direction Ying Buran had vanished, exhaled deeply, pressed her hat to her chest, and closed her eyes in prayer.

“My child, I hope this time, you can finally achieve your heart’s desire…”

Ying Buran’s eyes stung from the blinding light. When she finally recovered, she found herself in a completely different place.

It was a desolate wilderness, utterly uninhabited. Occasionally, she heard the calls of some unknown bird, very close by.

Looking up, she saw a crescent moon hidden behind the clouds, casting an even deeper gloom over the already dark night.

Someone was watching me earlier… Who was it? Ying Buran rubbed her chin, puzzled. Instinctively, she turned to ask Zhao Chao’an, only to find no one there.

“Zhao Chao’an? Are you still here?”

Her only response was a few bird calls, which were surprisingly melodious.

Then something tugged at her pant leg. Looking down, she saw a black bird. “A crow?”

The moment she said that, the black bird grew agitated, flapping its wings frantically and darting back and forth in front of her.

“Blackbird! Blackbird! It’s a blackbird!” Zhao Chao’an’s voice rang out. This time, the little black bird landed on her shoulder, its indignant chirps ringing in her ear.

Ying Buran blinked, gently caught the bird in both hands, and examined it closely. “You’re Zhao Chao’an?!”

She turned the bird over and over in her hands, marveling. “You look exactly like a crow.”

Zhao Chao’an nodded. This was her first time transforming into a bird, and she was still getting used to it. She had only just mastered speaking human language. “If I appeared in my original form in the mortal realm, those old geezers would notice me too easily. This form helps me stay hidden and conserves ghostly energy.”

“Besides, this isn’t a crow! It’s a blackbird! Can’t you hear the difference in its call?”

Ying Buran hummed in agreement, still fascinated. She cradled the blackbird in her arms, stroking it gently. The texture felt exactly like a real bird.

When she released it, Zhao Qingxun flew back to perch on her head, spreading one wing and waving it forward. “Now, let’s head toward Chasing Wind City!”

“But where is Chasing Wind City? How do we get there?” Ying Buran asked, looking upward, though she couldn’t see.

Zhao Chao’an’s wings drooped. Her earlier bravado had been deflated by a single question. She swooped down and landed in front of Ying Buran, rapidly growing back to her original size. “I know the way. Climb on my back, and I’ll fly you there.”

Ying Buran gestured with her hand, estimating the bird to be about three times her height. The massive creature lowered itself, spreading its wings to the ground to make it easier for her to climb on.

After climbing onto Zhao Chao’an’s back, Ying Buran hesitated, unsure where to grip for balance. As if sensing her dilemma, Zhao Chao’an conjured ropes and a saddle for her to hold onto.

Once Ying Buran was secure, Zhao Chao’an spread her wings and soared into the sky, rapidly advancing toward their destination while simultaneously using ghostly energy to create a barrier against the wind.

The rift Ying Buran had chosen was the closest to Chasing Wind City, and with their speed, the city soon came into view. Ying Buran, with her sharp eyes, noticed something amiss below. “Stop! Something’s happening down there. Are those… Ghost Soldiers?”

Zhao Chao’an braked immediately and peered downward. “That aura… These Ghost Soldiers belong to the Western Ghost King!” she exclaimed in surprise.

“How strange! Why would she be here? She was the loudest opponent during the council meetings, constantly opposing me.”

“You two don’t get along?” Ying Buran asked instinctively, then shook her head and drew her white jade flute. “No, this isn’t the time for that. Let’s intervene.”

Below, Su Junying swung her greatsword repeatedly, cleaving through the Ghost Soldiers time and again. Yet, they would immediately reassemble, an eerie phenomenon she had never encountered before. Normally, when you cut them down, they should stay dead, she thought.

Behind her, soldiers fought desperately against the endless tide of Ghost Soldiers, their weapons clashing against the spectral foes. In the center of their formation, several frail individuals huddled together.

“Fellow Daoist Su, their target is us. You should leave now,” the squad leader said, driving her sword through a Ghost Soldier’s brow and kicking the corpse aside.

She had noticed the Ghost Soldiers’ unwavering focus on the people they were protecting, ignoring the soldiers’ attacks entirely, single-mindedly intent on killing those within the formation. The soldiers’ injuries were merely collateral damage from intercepting these attacks. She couldn’t abandon her troops, but Su Junying was just a stranger they had met by chance. There was no reason for her to risk her life for them.

Su Junying shook her head stubbornly. “That’s impossible. You’re my patients. What kind of doctor abandons their patients?”

“There’s no cure for Heaven’s Wrath yet. Staying here won’t help. You should leave while you still can. You can save more lives if you survive,” the captain insisted.

Su Junying glanced at her, her expression peculiar. “Who told you this was Heaven’s Wrath?” she asked, puzzled.

The captain froze, and in that moment of hesitation, a Ghost Soldier lunged at her. Another soldier beside her intercepted the attack.

Snapping back to attention, the captain slashed her sword and demanded urgently, “What did you say? This isn’t Heaven’s Wrath?”

“Exactly. It’s a plague. Give me some time, and I can solve it. Let’s deal with these creatures first,” Su Junying said, raising her greatsword with renewed resolve.

Just then, a flute melody drifted down from above. The soldiers didn’t dare look up, keeping their eyes fixed on the Ghost Soldiers. They noticed the creatures had frozen in place, their hands dropping limply as they stared blankly upward.

Su Junying reacted first, swinging her greatsword in a powerful arc. This time, the Ghost Soldiers didn’t reform.

The captain waved her hand, signaling the soldiers to attack immediately. “Everyone, attack! Don’t let them regroup!”

The situation reversed in an instant. At the same time, a strange fluctuation emanated from somewhere, as if countering the flute’s melody.

“Tch, this is getting complicated. You deal with that guy, I’ll help them.”

As the words faded, a figure descended from the sky, holding a long flute. Sword energy materialized around the flute, transforming it into a blade.

Ying Buran combined spiritual energy with ghostly energy, shattering the Ghost Soldiers while simultaneously absorbing their ghostly energy. This prevented the Ghost King, no matter how powerful, from reassembling them.

She withdrew the flute, and the Ghost Soldiers dissolved into dust. The sudden turn of events stunned both the remaining soldiers and the Ghost Soldiers.

Ying Buran tilted her head slightly, revealing the half of her face not concealed by the mask to Su Junying.

Su Junying froze for a moment, then erupted with the loudest shout she’d ever uttered in her life: “You’re Ying Buran?! Did you come back from the dead?!”

She had seen the portrait Cheng Banxia had given her and quickly recognized the woman.

Didn’t Cheng Banxia say Ying Buran was dead? Is this what dead looks like? She’s clearly still alive!

“…Huh? You know me? Never mind, we’ll talk later. Let’s deal with this first.” Ying Buran flicked the flute in her hand.

Could it be someone she knew from the past? She couldn’t tell if they were friend or foe.

Su Junying quickly regained her composure, hefting her greatsword. “Alright, let’s take care of them first.”