Players: All NPCs in the Sect Are Moles

’What kind of bizarre entry requirement is this...?’

’Oh, right. This is a demonic sect. Never mind, then. Anything’s possible!’

’Could it be that every disciple they’ve "dealt with" is buried in this so-called Yin Spirit Institute?’

The moment the jade coffin was carried through the institute’s gates, a bone-chilling cold enveloped Su Ling’er, despite the ten-thousand-year-old Warm Jade beneath her.

The surrounding yin energy felt like countless ghostly hands, caressing her—the fresh sacrifice—through the walls of the coffin.

’I’m doomed, I’m doomed!’

’This is so terrifying!!!’

’Should I just "wake up" now?’

’No... If Wang Xiedi’s plan fails because of me, then wouldn’t I have faked this illness for nothing?’

’I have to endure it!’

’Besides...’

’Erm...’

’It’s actually a little bit thrilling... and I’m a little expectant...’

’Yes!’

’This is all for the righteous path!’

’For the salvation of all living things!!!’

A heroic sense of purpose swelled in Su Ling’er’s heart, but she quickly calmed down.

’Besides, judging by the looks of it, this won’t be over any time soon.’

’Maybe... I can "revive" at the most critical moment?’

’And I’m their "Holy Daughter," after all. I should be important to this sect. They wouldn’t really send me to my death, would they?’

’They probably... wouldn’t, right?’

Her heart pounded with uncertainty; she actually had no confidence at all.

But things had already come to this. For the great cause of righteousness, she could only grit her teeth and persevere.

After the procession entered the Yin Spirit Institute, they didn’t see the expected pavilions and terraces. Instead, a narrow, damp path came into view.

The path was flanked by sinister, dense fog and rows of tombstones. Within the swirling mist, countless ghostly figures seemed to flicker.

Indescribable whispers echoed through the air, making one’s hair stand on end.

Peeking through a hole in the coffin, Su Ling’er saw a stone tablet by the road inscribed with four blood-red words: "Path of Eternal Slumber."

Lin Qingfeng was still at the very front, speaking in a profound and mysterious tone.

"This path tests one’s Dao heart. All that you see along the way are illusions."

"Guard your original intentions and follow me. Remember, do not look back, and do not answer any calls!"

In reality, he was saying this specifically for his little junior sister, because no one else cared. They just wanted to hurry up and start grinding this new building’s instance!

But Ji, who was walking beside the jade coffin, muttered under his breath:

"It’d be great if the ghosts in here weren’t illusions. We could catch them and put them to work!"

Lying in the coffin, Su Ling’er had been shivering, wondering if this was the legendary "Yellow Springs Road" from the storybooks.

But the terrifying atmosphere was instantly shattered by her senior brother’s comment.

’Seriously?!’

’You people are truly inhuman!’

’They’re already dead, and you still want to make them work?!’

’They’re nothing but souls, and you’re still thinking about exploiting them?!’

’Do people have to slave away for your Guixi Sect from birth until after death?!’

’You have no humanity at all!’

’This demonic sect... I wonder which is crueler to ghosts, them or the legendary Ghost Spirit Sect?’

Just then, a completely different sound drifted from the depths of the path ahead.

DEE-DA... DEE-DA... DEE-DA...

At the end of the path, a deep, dark cave entrance appeared, swallowing the entire funeral procession.

After a brief moment of darkness, when Su Ling’er peeked out from the hole again, she was shocked to find that the scenery around them had been completely transformed!

The ordinary disciples who had been following behind had all vanished!

Looking around, only the Eldest Brother, Ji, Shi Gandang, and a few others—the core demons, in her eyes—remained.

Even the ape-like spirit beasts carrying the coffin had been replaced by Guixi Sect disciples at some unknown point.

’This... doesn’t seem to be anywhere within the Guixi Sect anymore!’

’Could it be like that Demon-Locking Tower, an independent space conjured out of thin air by some profane art?!’

Just as she was reeling in shock and suspicion, the blare of a suona suddenly exploded in her ears!

DEE-DA DEE-DA, DEE-DEE DA—!

DEE-DA DEE-DA, DEE-DEE DA—!

The melody, distant at first, was right upon them within a few breaths.

The tune... was the extremely festive "Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix"!

However, woven into this lively and jubilant melody was a mournful counterpoint.

Sorrow hidden within joy.

And within that sorrow, there was a hint of something sinister!

On their side of the procession, the mournful wail of the xiao flute had not yet faded.

But from the opposite direction, the festive yet sinister sound of the suona was already overwhelming.

The two completely different types of music intertwined and clashed on the narrow path in this desolate wilderness.

Lying in the jade coffin, Su Ling’er carefully moved closer to the peephole, observing the outside world through the tiny opening.

She saw the dense fog ahead continuously parting and dispersing to the sides.

At the edge of the fog, a long, blood-red procession came into everyone’s view.

It was a bridal sedan, carried by eight bearers, as red as fresh blood.

Red lanterns hung all around it.

As the bearers walked, the lanterns swayed back and forth, the candlelight within flickering like a candle in the wind, ready to be extinguished at any moment.

Through the peephole, Su Ling’er stared intently at the sedan bearers dressed in red and the guests thronging around the sedan.

Every one of their faces was as pale as paper, completely bloodless, and all wore the exact same eerie smile.

Their bodies swayed stiffly from side to side as they performed a bizarre dance.

And through the gaps in the swaying red silk curtains, one could vaguely see a bride in the sedan, her head covered with a red veil.

The chilling and oppressive aura they emitted...

...made Su Ling’er’s heart palpitate, even through the walls of the coffin.

She couldn’t help but recall a story she had once heard from a storyteller in Anhe City.

The Red-White Clash.

This is what the feng shui master had said:

The so-called "Red-White Clash" originates from red and white affairs—weddings and funerals.

When a wedding procession and a funeral procession meet by chance under specific feng shui conditions...

...the yin and yang energies collide. This is considered an omen of great misfortune, likely to attract vicious ghosts or bring about sudden disaster.

As the saying goes, "When red and white collide, the malevolent aura soars!"

The feng shui master also said that the "White Malice" is often a young man who drowned, filled with extreme resentment.

If he encounters the "Red Malice"—a woman who died violently on her wedding day—an even stronger malevolent energy will be triggered.

’But...’ Su Ling’er’s mind was in turmoil.

’Yin energy?’

’I’m a living person, where would I get yin energy from?’

’Besides... the White Malice is supposed to be male, but I’m female! It doesn’t match at all!’

She couldn’t make any sense of the situation before her.

However, what she was about to see would confuse her even more.

She was shocked to discover that her own funeral procession, far from stopping, had actually started to... to "dance" along with the rhythm of the "Red Malice" opposite them?!

’They started "dancing"?!’

’Wait!’

’What are you all doing?!’

’That’s clearly a procession of ghosts over there!’

’Are you trying to collide with them?!’

’No, no...’

’I’m not the "White Malice," so what’s the point of you crashing into them?’

’Could there be some other aspect of this Red-White Clash that I don’t know about?’

She shifted her gaze in suspicion, and in the next second, her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

...

Meanwhile, in the party chat.

Lin Qingfeng looked at the red procession opposite them, and a brilliant, devious idea instantly sparked in his mind.

’Anyway, we’re the White Malice in charge of carrying the coffin.’

’Perfect!’

’Let’s do something even more epic—the coffin dance!’