Chapter 209: I Have a Son

The third round of the exam had begun with several hundred disciples entering the test site. Yet less than an hour later, one-third of them had already been eliminated—a record-breaking rate in the Celestial Masters Hall’s history.

However, as time went on, the number of disqualified disciples began to slow. Some clever ones had noticed a pattern: the vengeful spirits never appeared in groups. Seizing this discovery, the disciples started to form small teams of two or three, coordinating attacks and watching each other’s backs.

Sure enough, the tides began to turn. The number of ghosts plummeted rapidly—some were sealed into talismans, others were purified and sent peacefully back to the underworld.

By the fourth hour, only a handful of spirits remained. The disciples had grown increasingly adept—some even managed to subdue ghost generals. The sect masters watching from the water mirror were thoroughly pleased. All those exam papers they had written hadn’t been for nothing.

Among the competitors, one trio of blue-robed youths stood out. They had already subdued dozens of ghosts, including a ghost general. Their movements were calm, their teamwork seamless, their timing impeccable.

The sect masters began whispering among themselves, intrigued. After studying their faces, one of them finally recognized their crest and turned to Tang Yi, the head of the Tang Clan.

“Clan Master Tang, those three are from your sect, aren’t they? Impressive! Their control, timing, and understanding of spirit weaknesses are exceptional.”

Tang Yi chuckled, eyes narrowing with pride. “You flatter me, my friends. Just a bunch of restless youngsters—still have much to learn!”

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he leaned forward, pointing excitedly at the water mirror. “But look, that one on the right! The strongest of the three—that’s my son, Tang Chen! My biological son!”

He stood up to make sure everyone heard, tapping the mirror so hard the surface rippled. His face shone with the smug satisfaction of a father showing off.

The other sect masters: “…”

So much for modesty. Having a son isn’t a special achievement!

凸(艹皿艹)

Yun Jiao, standing nearby, suddenly recalled something. “Your son’s injuries have healed?” she asked.

Tang Yi froze, then immediately turned and clasped his hands respectfully toward her. “It’s all thanks to you, Master Yun. If you hadn’t saved him, my son would never have returned from the underworld.”

He still shuddered remembering the incident at the cliff—his son’s soul nearly lost forever. If not for Yun Jiao’s timely intervention, Tang Chen would have perished.

“No need to thank me. It was a convenient stop along the way,” Yun Jiao said lightly. She had gone there to rescue the old man anyway—and besides, Tang Yi had already sent her a very generous “thank-you gift.”

Tang Yi’s gratitude deepened. Looking back at the water mirror, his pride softened into worry. “My boy’s been restless since childhood. The spiritual healer advised him to rest longer, but he insisted on joining this competition. I only hope he’s truly recovered.”

“His aura looks fine,” Yun Jiao observed. “If you’re worried, once the match ends, I’ll examine him again—just to be sure.”

Tang Yi’s eyes lit up. “Then I’ll trouble you, Master Yun!”

Yun Jiao nodded. “No trouble.” (Well, she had been paid for her trouble, after all.)

Her expression then turned thoughtful. Months had passed since the incident with the evil jiao, yet the mastermind behind it had never surfaced. She couldn’t tell whether they had realized the Soul Origin Pearl was now resting safely in the River of Souls—or if they hadn’t even discovered that the jiao was dead. The silence unsettled her; quiet enemies were the most dangerous.

A nearby sect master suddenly leaned forward, interrupting her thoughts. “Look! They’re about to clear the last part of the village!”

Yun Jiao focused back on the water mirror. Sure enough, after hours of fighting, the disciples had nearly purified the entire village. Only a small section at the back remained, where the last ghostly presence was concentrated. Fewer than a tenth of the original contestants were still standing, and dawn was only an hour away—the time limit almost reached.

Leading the charge into the final area were the Tang Clan trio.

Tang Yi, abandoning all pretense of humility, jabbed at the mirror again. “That’s my son! Look, everyone, my son—my own flesh and blood!”

The sect masters: “…”

Enough already, proud papa!

The three young men entered the innermost part of the village—a crumbling temple, half-collapsed with not a single intact tile left on its roof. They were exhausted, but their vigilance remained sharp. The deeper they went, the stranger the spirits’ behavior became; some appeared out of nowhere, giving no time to react. Several disciples had already been forced to use their emergency talismans in panic, barely escaping before their bodies could be harmed.

Tang Chen studied the decrepit shrine carefully, sensing the oppressive yin energy that saturated the air. There was definitely a spirit lurking inside—but where?

By now, their achievements were more than enough to qualify for the finals. But he was a disciple of the Mystical Sect. Knowing a spirit was there and turning away would be dereliction of duty, exam or not.

He didn’t hesitate long. Turning to his teammates, he said quietly, “Wait here. I’ll go first.”

They exchanged glances, then nodded. “Be careful, Senior Tang.”

Tang Chen pressed a protective charm to his chest before stepping into the shrine.

The instant he crossed the threshold, the air turned freezing cold. The yin energy thickened, suffocating, pressing against his skin like wet silk. The oppressive aura told him enough—this wasn’t an ordinary wraith. It had to be at least a ghost general.

He tightened his grip on his sword and signaled to his teammates behind him.

The two immediately split off, moving in practiced formation, tracing steps that subtly measured distance and direction—calculating something as they moved.

Tang Chen kept his focus sharp, following the ebb and flow of the ghostly aura, trying to pinpoint where it was densest. But the entire temple was saturated; the difference was impossible to distinguish.

He advanced cautiously toward the center.

Oddly, the spirit didn’t ambush him like the others had. Instead, as soon as he reached the middle of the temple, it was as if a hidden mechanism had been triggered.

The air screamed. Yin energy swirled violently, forming a massive vortex overhead. A wail—piercing, mournful, and filled with hatred—echoed through the entire village.

Even outside, disciples clutched their chests as their souls trembled under the sound. Tang Chen and his companions hastily focused their minds, channeling spiritual power to steady themselves.

Then—

A shadow began to materialize in midair. The yin energy grew heavier and heavier, far beyond what any ghost general could emit.

And it still wasn’t stopping.

The black mist gathered higher, thicker, until the form towering before them was as large as a hill.

Tang Chen’s pupils shrank.

“This is—”

“A Ghost King!”

(End of Chapter 209)