Unseen Immortal of Three Hundred Years

The words of those people hanging upside-down overhead overlapped one another.  

They sounded like countless echoes, each agreeing with one other and softly tittering. Amidst the creaking of the ropes, their laughter sounded at once far and near, growing sharper and sharper until at last, it mushroomed into a cackle that resounded throughout the forbidden ground. 

The laughter persisted for a while, then abruptly halted at the unpleasant sight of the Tianxiu Immortal’s face. 

The entire temple descended into a stalemate-like deathly still… 

Although the scene was outrageously strange, it didn’t stop the devil from finding it amusing.  

Wu Xingxue retracted his glee under Xiao Fuxuan’s gaze to ask solemnly: "What are you people?" 

The hanging ropes swayed, and those people slowly turned. Because they’d been hanging too long, their torsos, necks, and even their faces were tugged out long, making it truly difficult to recognize their original appearances. 

“We?"

"Who are we?"

"Hahahahaha."

It was unclear why they laughed again at this question, but after a moment, they stopped abruptly once more, using a sneaky tone as though whispering in someone’s ear to say—

"We’re already dead."

"Nonsense, we’re still alive." 

"Then, both dead, and alive." 

"Sigh……"

It was unclear who let out a faint sigh, but everyone else followed with long sighs one after another. The sound was quite unsettling.  

Wu Xingxue wrinkled his brows. He felt that these people seemed different from any foul devils or yin entities he’d seen before, or even those commoners inducted at the Valley of Great Sorrow. 

Low-level devils and yin beings wouldn’t be able to speak, and would muddle about as though lacking sentience, knowing only hunger and feeding. Powerful ones would be indistinguishable from people and could learn to pass themselves off as living humans, totally indistinguishable from the real deal. As for the commoners who’d been tragically inducted, when they weren’t exposed, they could speak clearly. 

It was the first time he’d encountered something like this, for whom speaking up was a truly laborious task. 

"What are they?" Wu Xingxue whispered, tugging on Xiao Fuxuan.  

"Don’t know," Xiao Fuxuan replied. 

The world was full of oddities with all sorts of inner and outer manifestations. Even the gods couldn’t know or recognize everything at a glance. The Tianxiu Immortal was by nature reticent, and didn’t like speaking superfluously. Were he uncertain of his guess, he could only answer with "Don’t know."  

His wont was well-established in Immortal Capital, yet kept being shattered with this one person here.

"Then make something up," said Wu Xingxue.

Xiao Fuxuan: "……"

Xiao Fuxuan: "Bound."

Wu Xingxue: "Oh? What’s that?"

This devil seemed to be very impressed by Tianxiu’s knowledge, and was at all ears ready to listen.

Already worn down, the Tianxiu Immortal let himself go entirely at this look of reverence; he opened his mouth to say: "Mortals are all cycles of spirits. After the flesh body has died, the spirit enters the next stage. Blossoms bloom and wilt; the cycle goes around. But the spirit and flesh body do not always remain together. Some people’s flesh bodies are already dead, but perhaps because of persisting obligations or obsessions, their spirit will linger on without leaving, and continue to pass their days much like those of a living person. They are called attached. There are also some whose flesh bodies are not yet dead, but whose spirits have been drawn out and tied to something for some reason or other. Inextricable, thus becoming bound." 

Xiao Fuxuan said: "Judging on a whim, of bound they’re akin." 

Upon hearing "attached," Wu Xingxue felt alright. That just came down to a persisting obsession, an unwillingness to leave. Upon hearing "bound," however, his expression dimmed…

He thought it over and asked: "If the spirit is tied down, then what about the flesh body?"  

Xiao Fuxuan said: "It remains in place without dying or abating, and without being able to leave. Moreover, it is quite difficult to distinguish."

Wu Xingxue: "Even you find it difficult to distinguish? Why so? Is it unlike a dead person, lacking a corpse aura?"  

Xiao Fuxuan recalled the sporadic times he’d encountered "the bound," and explained: "The bound’s flesh bodies will never die, without knowing for themselves what had befallen them. Over time they will deceive themselves." 

"And how do they deceive themselves?"  

"They will grow up over and over again." 

Wu Xingxue was shocked at this: "You mean… their flesh bodies will start off as newborn infants and grow up again?" 

"They won’t necessarily start from infancy, nor will they necessarily grow old. Depends on the person." 

Wu Xingxue thought the situation over, and indeed thought it strange—a bodily vessel without a spirit should have been no more than a walking corpse, yet they could merge into the crowd of living humans. They’d undergo the process of aging, change appearance with time, and converse with others.  

"Then the deities would indeed find them difficult to distinguish…" Wu Xingxue said: "But those close to them for decades would perhaps find out." 

But those who found out would likely be scared half to death. 

Just imagine, the one who shared a pillow, or a family member in the same household, or even just a next-door neighbor, with whom they’d originally spoken to on a daily basis, one day suddenly coming to the realization that they’d perhaps long since ceased to be alive… Could a handful of ordinary commoners bear the horror? 

But, the ones who suffered the most would have to be the victim themselves. 

Wu Xingxue suddenly felt that these upside-down hanged people were somewhat pitiable, and raised his head to ask: "How long have you all been hanging here?"  

Those people twisted with the breeze, sometimes with their backs facing him, sometimes slowly turning face-to-face. Due to being hanged upside-down, even the corners of their lips were tugged along their cheeks, like a weird, uncontrollable smile. 

"I… I don’t remember."  

"A loooong time, truly long." 

"Nearly a hundred years?"

Wu Xingxue thought to himself: No wonder these people hanging upside-down were talking like that, one moment saying they were alive and the next saying they were dead, chattering over one another in a muddle headed daze. Anyone who’d had their spirit drawn out and confined in this hellish place for a century, likely would have this muddled chattering appearance. 

"Where were you originally from?" Wu Xingxue then asked.  

He didn’t in fact hold out any hope for this, and also didn’t think these people would be able to say why they’d come here; probably they’d reply with things like "I forgot" or "I don’t remember." 

Who knew that they’d actually open their mouths one by one—

"Langzhou."

"Guizhou."

"Xiyuan."

"Foot of Immovable Mountain."

……

Every manner of reply swelled up like the tide. Listening to them made the great devil’s mind buzz.  

"Okay…" Wu Xingxue said, "I got it." 

Basically everywhere.

Wu Xingxue mulled it over inside.  

This place was a temple, which rather called to mind sacrificial offerings and worshiping-type paraphernalia. These spirits who’d been tied here were quite possibly used for these purposes. 

He still wanted to ask "who tied you up here" and "why were you chosen," but just as he was opening his mouth, he was shushed by Xiao Fuxuan.  

As though able to see through his thoughts, the Tianxiu Immortal took the initiative to say: "Some things cannot be mentioned, such as…"

He paused for a moment, tilting his head down next to Wu Xingxue’s ear to whisper: "The lord of their grievance."

Wu Xingxue: "……"

He knew this was so those upside-down hanging people didn’t hear, but…  

The devil closed his eyes. After a beat, he then asked: "Why?" 

Xiao Fuxuan’s mild voice remained pressed low as before: "Mentioning it is liable to arouse their resentment. We haven’t yet understood this forbidden ground; it’s inadvisable to take rash action." 

The devil: "Fine…"

After he listened earnestly, he waited until Xiao Fuxuan had stood up straight to gather up his overcoat and half-cover his ears in fox fur.  

While the two people were whispering in each other’s ears, those people hanging upside-down from the rafters continued to slowly, lightly sway, but no matter how they moved, their eyes remained glued on this pair who’d barged into the forbidden ground. The ends of their eyes were drawn out quite long; inclining out from the corners of their eyes, they appeared eerily focused. 

They looked on for a long while, when a few among them suddenly shook their shoulders.  

Then, even more of them began stealthily moving—countless flesh-colored branches noiselessly fell down from the densely packed crowd of people, like a thick, upside-down forest. 

Were one to look closely, they’d discover that they weren’t in fact branches, but arms that had been stretched long, as though boneless. 

Those people slowly opened their mouths, those arms beginning to move like serpents, stretching straight toward those two people.  

The entire temple remained completely silent, as though the people currently speaking hadn’t yet noticed—having not even turned their heads. 

The Devil Lord spoke with a serious expression: "But there’s just one problem.

Xiao Fuxuan’s gaze shifted slightly: "Speak."  

"What do we do if they start it first?" the devil calmly asked. 

"Then, we can only… kill them." Xiao Fuxuan said. With a flick of his thumb to his sword handle, the longsword in his hand cut an exceptionally beautiful arc, glacial sword qi instantaneously raging out and forming countless chilly wind-cutting blades.  

Without turning his head, the icy blades swept out. 

Countless "puffss" rang out as thousands of long, branchlike arms halted just behind them. They were nearly a hair away, but couldn’t get closer—amidst mournful shrieks, the arms littered the ground.  

The next moment, those icy blades turned their tips, bearing extremely violent killing intent as they doubled straight back on those people hanging upside-down. 

They writhed madly, but simply couldn’t escape. Just as the frosty tips were about to wedge into their skulls, they couldn’t keep down their howling: "AHHHHHHH—"

However, the instant those frosty tips pressed against their scalps, they halted! 

They could clearly sense that they were about to be stabbed through, but the sword tips were slow to the take; yet that taste of waiting was the greatest torture. They were so tortured, their entire bodies shook; even the ropes holding them creaked out.  

"It’s been difficult waiting for someone to come. Were you thinking that if you’d grabbed someone to hang, they’d take your place?" Wu Xingxue raised his head to ask.  

"……"

Those people were still shaking, but didn’t utter a word. The entire temple was rendered a deathly still, representing an affirmative to his question.

Wu Xingxue wasn’t actually angry. He’d clearly seen this sort of scene a few times before, but ineffably kept his cool in the face of the macabre. Those people who’d been stuffed into child servant statues were like this, as were these bound spirits, always trying to find another poor wretch to replace them.

 It was just that they were out of luck, and found the wrong people.

Wu Xingxue glanced at Xiao Fuxuan to ask: "Can I make a deal with them?" "

Xiao Fuxuan: "…… As if I can stop you."

Wu Xingxue happily raised his face: ‘I’ll tell you what, you all have stayed a while on this forbidden ground, and got to know it somewhat. Tell us honestly the situation with this forbidden ground, and we’ll think of a way to untie your spirit binds."  

Unexpectedly, those people slowly came face-to-face with him, and they said: "You can’t untie them." 

Wu Xingxue asked: "Why so certain?" 

Those people stretched their necks, cautiously staring at those sword tips, and confidently repeated: "You just can’t."

Wu Xingxue was about to ask again when he suddenly saw that one of the spirits hanging upside-down was quite strange. Unlike the others hanging upside-down, he seemed to have awoken slightly, his eyes not so muddled.  

"Look at that one." Wu Xingxue poked Xiao Fuxuan, indicating that he look at that unusual one, "What’s wrong with him?"

Xiao Fuxuan replied: "His flesh body must be on the verge of awakening, so his spirit is struggling violently." 

Flesh body on the verge of awakening?  

"You’re saying, that flesh body is about to realize that it’s no longer a living person?" Wu Xingxue asked. 

"Not about to, perhaps already realized."

The person was struggling, his face so distorted that as he flipped around, the massive bags under his eyes nearly kept him from opening his eyes. With difficulty, he looked over in Wu Xingxue and Xiao Fuxuan’s direction, his mouth opening and dosing, but unable to say anything.  

After another beat, he called out: "It hurts so much…" 

Staring at his eyebags, Wu Xingxue was suddenly taken aback.   

"I know who he is," he grabbed Xiao Fuxuan to whisper.

Having previously been hanging upside-down, his face had been dragged out very long, so it was rather hard to recognize him. Now, the instant he flipped around amidst his twitching, within those massive eye bags, the two of them could make out a hint of familiarity about his face.  

It was the innkeeper. 

In that split second, Wu Xingxue nearly lost himself. 

Why would the innkeeper have appeared here now? 

He again began thinking back to before he’d come to the forbidden ground, the innkeeper’s expression of wanting to say something but being unable, and everything seemed to string together— 

What if these bound spirits weren’t sacrificial offerings? What if the reason their spirits had been drawn out was to keep their flesh bodies here forever to cover a certain place for a long time, never to die nor abate nor leave? 

What if the sealing of the divine arbor had been sketched in light washes in the stories, and hadn’t just relied on a few formations and a forbidden ground, but required a multitude of people? And, the innkeeper was just the one guarding the entrance.  

A terrifying thought suddenly came to Wu Xingxue— 

Xiao Fuxuan had said that the flesh bodies of the "bound" whose spirits had been drawn out would continue their lives where they were, would grow up over and over again, and were at a glance so indistinguishable from living humans that not even the deities could tell them apart. But, close neighbors were more liable to detect them.  

But what if their close neighbors were also "bound"? What if the neighbors they saw every day were all "bound"?

Then would that mean no one be able to find out?

Someone—he forgot who—had once said that Falling Flower Terrace was a truly excellent place in the mortal world. No matter how chaotic the world was, this place would always maintain a comfortable ease, a lively and thriving clamor of human voices. 

And another person had said, perhaps the divine arbor of back then was still present, blessing the place all along.  

Thinking about it now, it was actually unusual. Where was the logic in these people not suffering the effects of troubled times? 

But what if the entire mountain market was bound? What if that bustling clamor had long since died, just to be locked here forever, day after day and year after year staging the scene of lighting lanterns at the market’s opening on the third day of the third month? 

Just like the flesh bodies who’d lost their spirits, fooling themselves in everything they did—growing, aging, and conversing.

Wu Xingxue’s face sank like water, his gaze sweeping over the densely-packed faces.  

Looking again this time, he finally found quite a few familiar faces—that bellboy from the inn, even those from when he’d just entered Falling Flower Mountain Market, that teahouse waiter in his endless hawking, the high-cheekboned folk storyteller, the shop attendant who’d explained about the overturned cart of rouge powders…  

In the end, he couldn’t even tell whether it was ultimately the him of this moment recognizing those people, or, if it was the Wu Xingxue of back then who had also similarly… recognized those people. 

All contributed to Falling Flower Terrace’s bustling and clamorous facade. Once. they’d lit candles that shone continuously upon all twelve miles of the mountain range. like a dragon of light. 

That was the Falling Flower Mountain Market he’d once recommended to so many.  

That was his birthplace.