Chapter Twenty-Five: A Modest Display of Skill

Wang Li hurriedly grabbed the item and, bringing it close to his eyes, studied it intently for a while. Then, frowning, he closed his eyes and fell into deep thought, not uttering a word for a long time. Modo, Hu Hai, and Chi Shang all looked on with tense expressions, none daring to make a sound.

After some time, Wang Li finally opened his eyes, shook his round head in confusion, and looked at Shi Jun. “My lord, is this truly the first time you’ve cultivated a magical artifact?” Seeing Shi Jun nod, Wang Li sighed and forced a wry smile. “Your abilities are truly astonishing! To be honest, though this artifact you’ve crafted isn’t quite flawless, for a first attempt, it is beyond reproach. In particular, your sensitivity in discerning the essence of materials, your aptitude for using them appropriately, and your talent for drawing out the latent spiritual power are truly outstanding! My spirit stone possesses rich, pure, and enduring spiritual power, but it has a major flaw: its output is slow and lacks explosive force. At first, I was uncertain what kind of artifact it should become, but you, my lord, tailored it so intuitively, making it a protective artifact—a wise choice indeed. What surprises me most, however, is the main enchantment imbued in this artifact. It is quite peculiar—resembling the Water Shield defensive spell, but seemingly fused with some kind of frost-based counterattack and mind-driven technique, resulting in a strange mutation. What exactly is this spell? What does it do? I truly cannot discern it!”

“What? You can’t identify it?” Chi Shang stared in disbelief. He was well aware of his third brother’s skill in evaluating and refining magical artifacts, so Wang Li’s admission shocked him. Unable to contain himself, he snatched the “Ice Shield” and, together with Modo, examined it from every angle.

Hu Hai stretched his neck to get a better look, and Shi Jun slapped him on the shoulder. “Well, do you want to give it a try?”

Hu Hai grinned mysteriously. “Sure! Let me show you a new spell I just learned! I’ll give you a demonstration first, so you can’t accuse me of bullying you later.” He glanced around, then turned toward Shi Jun’s substitute, who was sitting on the couch watching TV, and began chanting. With a flick of his palm and a quick hand sign, he called out softly, “Go!”

As soon as he spoke, wisps of bluish-green mist poured from his fingertips, wriggling like a giant caterpillar as they floated over to the impostor Shi Jun. In an instant, the figure was tightly wrapped, becoming a massive, blue-green cocoon.

“What kind of spell is that?” Shi Jun was certain Hu Hai had just extorted this from Chi Shang, but he was familiar with most of Chi Shang’s signature spells, and after watching for some time, he still couldn’t identify this one. Perplexed, he couldn’t help but ask aloud.

“Heh! Stumped, aren’t you?” Hu Hai puffed up, striking a heroic pose. “This is one of Chi Shang’s specialties, called the Water Dragon Wave!”

Water Dragon Wave? Shi Jun nearly toppled over. Indeed, one of Chi Shang’s signature spells bore that name. The caster manipulates moisture from the air into a dragon-shaped, bluish energy mass to immobilize enemies—a simple, easily controlled water-element spell. Chi Shang had used it in the asylum when facing off with Modo. Yet, in Hu Hai’s hands, the energy mass looked more like a caterpillar than a dragon—it was no wonder he felt confused watching it.

Still, for Hu Hai to progress from knowing nothing about spells to casting them independently was a remarkable leap. Even if his technique was a bit unorthodox, it was a significant improvement. Thinking this, Shi Jun felt genuine joy for him.

Hu Hai, suddenly earnest, said, “Actually, I should thank you. If not for this incident, I wouldn’t have settled down to study the basics of cultivation. If I hadn’t accumulated some spirit power, I couldn’t have broken through your spell’s barrier so quickly. Now, I’m starting to grasp the interplay of spirit and material power—a subtlety one can only experience, not explain.” With that, he snapped a hand sign, dispelling the unsightly but effective “Water Dragon Wave” from the fake Shi Jun.

Shi Jun was stunned, suddenly realizing: mastery over material force had always been his own weakness. If not for the insights gained while refining the artifact, he might even be lagging behind Hu Hai in this aspect! He’d always relied on his innate spiritual strength, but as the Elder of the Underworld had said, only by integrating spirit and material power could one truly step onto the path of transcendence. In that sense, his own cultivation was only just on the right track, while Hu Hai, though a late starter, had built his foundation step by step on personal insight, making it even sturdier.

* * *

“Old Shi!” Shi Jun was lost in thought when Hu Hai interrupted, “What are you zoning out for? Weren’t we going to test your new artifact? Afraid after seeing my spell?”

Modo also cut in impatiently, “Yeah, come on, let’s see what it can do!”

With someone backing him up, Hu Hai grew more insistent. “Old Shi, last time you caught me off guard and left me bedridden for two days. This time, it’s my turn! Let everyone see what your new artifact can do—I’ll attack with my new spell, and we’ll see if it can withstand it. But you can only use the artifact for defense—no sneaky spells, okay?” In truth, Hu Hai was wary of Shi Jun’s abilities, but he had his own plan: since Shi Jun couldn’t use other spells, and the artifact’s main function was defense, even if Hu Hai’s spell couldn’t break through, he wouldn’t suffer.

“Alright, but be careful!” Shi Jun was also eager to test the artifact’s defenses, though he worried about mishaps. Hu Hai’s suggestion seemed safe enough, so after warning him, he prepared himself.

Only Chi Shang, knowing both Shi Jun’s and Hu Hai’s abilities, sensed something might go wrong, but he was too eager for the spectacle to consider the consequences. Wang Li, while aware of the artifact’s power, knew little of Hu Hai’s skill and kept silent. Modo, knowing Hu Hai’s limits but not the artifact’s, had no reason to object either. So, with the challenge underway, Hu Hai inevitably ended up at a disadvantage.

After Shi Jun agreed, Hu Hai incanted his new spell, determined to impress the crowd. He channeled all his strength, and under his focused effort, the “Transformed Water Dragon Wave” displayed nearly eighty percent of its power. As his hand signs changed, two fist-sized blue-green orbs formed in his palms. Though their exteriors were sticky and limp, inside they shimmered with flowing light and substantial power. Suddenly, with a shout, Hu Hai clapped his hands together and pushed—the two orbs shot out in blue arcs, hurtling straight at Shi Jun.

Shi Jun was ready. As soon as Hu Hai cast his spell, he activated the Ice Shield artifact.

The onlookers saw a flash of light as the two energy balls struck Shi Jun’s chest—only to stop, unable to advance further, about two inches from his body. Only then did everyone notice a transparent, crescent-shaped shield had appeared before Shi Jun, like a massive energy barrier, perfectly blocking the attack.

The collision of energies sent gusts of wind swirling, rustling everyone’s clothes, but no matter how the orbs spun or pressed, they could not breach the shield. Gradually, their force waned until finally, with a loud “pop,” they exploded against the barrier, sending a shockwave through the room that left small ornaments scattered and askew.

The impact was truly formidable; Shi Jun seemed almost unable to withstand it, swaying as the shield’s outer layer dented deeply. But in the next moment, a layer of white light, about an inch thick, appeared on the shield’s inside, not only dispersing the shockwave but also enveloping the original barrier in an even sturdier shell.

Hu Hai, seeing his attack blocked, was about to admit defeat when suddenly a pale blue beam shot from Shi Jun’s shield, striking him squarely before he could react. An icy chill swept over him, his limbs stiffened, and in the blink of an eye, his whole body was encased in thick ice. The others watched as Hu Hai toppled backward with a loud crash, shards of ice scattering over everyone.

* * *

Under the guidance of Chi Shang and Wang Li, Shi Jun hurriedly unraveled the “Three Feet of Ice” curse that had automatically counterattacked from the Ice Shield. As soon as Hu Hai revived, he sneezed dozens of times in a row, making Shi Jun both worried and amused. After apologizing profusely and confirming Hu Hai was unharmed, he pulled him up. “Old Hu, you really are unlucky. I had no idea the artifact’s counterattack would be so strong...”

But Hu Hai didn’t mind at all, immediately praising him. “Great! What a fantastic artifact! Old Shi, you really are something!”

The group was still laughing when Liu Qing, who had been eager to visit her daughter at the children’s hospital after Hu Hai recovered, burst in, not even greeting the others. She rushed straight to Shi Jun, her face panicked, and cried out, “Something terrible’s happened! Something terrible!”

“What is it? Why are you in such a state?” Hu Hai, unaware of the situation, teased, “Our Miss Liu really doesn’t stop for a moment! I’d just recovered and rushed to the hospital, and now you’re already back with news?”

Shi Jun, seeing Liu Qing’s agitation, knew something serious must have occurred. He quickly stopped Hu Hai’s banter and comforted her, “Please, Miss Liu, calm down and tell us what’s happened.”

“You have no idea! On my way to the hospital, every TV in the shops was broadcasting the same news: last night, over a dozen people jumped to their deaths in the luxury residential district on the hillside...”

* * *

On a late autumn afternoon, the leaves of the plane trees lining the road had withered, turning yellow and brittle, easily swept from the branches by the northern wind, spiraling to the ground in thick drifts. Stepping on them produced a faint crackle, like the snapping of bones.

Yet, the bleakness of autumn took on a different hue amid the inherent bustle of this southern city. Though the wind brought a biting chill, reminding people of the changing seasons, the half-green, half-yellow leaves and the desolate breeze became a rare and beautiful scene. With fewer pedestrians, the city felt more leisurely, as if the crowd had just left the theater, leaving behind a rare sense of calm. The autumn wind, leaves, and scene brought joy to the heart—even many had taken advantage of the clear weather to fly kites.

Shi Jun stood on the balcony, absentmindedly watching the kites drift through the sky, listening to the laughter of adults and children below. He felt as if he too were one of those kites, always tethered by unseen strings, unable to act freely. Suddenly, the once-familiar world seemed distant, and a wave of confusion swept over him. When had everything changed? He struggled to recall the events of the past few months, memories flashing by in bursts—now clear, now blurred. Sighing, he found it impossible to recapture the peace he’d once taken for granted.

He lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and steadied himself, about to sort through his thoughts when Modo appeared, leaping lightly onto the balcony railing to sit, looking gloomy. “What’s wrong with you? Are you really letting them go unchecked? If those guys team up against us, we’ll be outnumbered—and I’ll be the one paying the price as the youngest generation from the demon realm!”

Shi Jun chuckled and was about to reply when Hu Hai and Liu Qing joined them, making the small balcony crowded. Hu Hai listened to Modo’s grumbling, shook his head, started to say something, then thought better of it. Shi Jun, understanding their concern, put on a relaxed front and smiled. “Why are you all looking at me like that? If you trust someone, you don’t doubt them. What’s there to worry about? We don’t even know if this is related to the Six Ghosts. Even if it is, I believe Chi Shang and his brother wouldn’t do anything out of line. Don’t worry.”

* * *

Half an hour earlier, Liu Qing had brought news of the mass suicide in the hills. The others were stunned—Chi Shang, Wang Li, and Modo didn’t think much of it, but Shi Jun and Hu Hai were shocked. Hu Hai froze, then suddenly leaped up, knocking over his chair without noticing, shouting in panic, “It’s over, it’s over! Mass suicide—if it’s not a cult, it must be the other ghosts... Oh no, this is bad—let’s hope it’s not connected to the talisman, or we’re really doomed!” He rushed to Chi Shang, flustered. “If your brothers did this, I—I—I won’t let them off!”

Before Chi Shang could respond, he turned to Shi Jun, shouting, “What are you waiting for? Let’s go check it out!”

Chi Shang, Wang Li, and Modo were baffled by Hu Hai’s panic. Modo asked, “Hai, what’s gotten into you?”

Shi Jun’s heart had also skipped a beat, but seeing Hu Hai’s anxiety, he calmed himself and gestured for him to relax, then asked Liu Qing, “Miss Liu, when did this happen? Please, tell us clearly.” He handed the remote to Hu Hai, signaling him to turn on the TV and search for news.

Liu Qing composed herself and forced a smile. “I got nervous too—this is just too shocking. Actually, I didn’t see anything myself, just that every shop TV was playing the same story—yes, that’s it!” She pointed at the television.

Everyone’s eyes followed her finger—the city TV channel was showing images of ambulances with flashing lights, bloodstained stretchers, and a live reporter with a grave face. The scene shifted to the studio, where the host and several well-dressed, self-important guests were earnestly debating the incident. The tragedy was still fresh, cries had barely faded, yet the station had already organized a panel to speculate endlessly on why the wealthy were so mentally fragile as to commit mass suicide, offering their own baseless theories.

The tragedy had occurred the previous evening around seven. The hillside district, nestled by the city’s edge amid mountains and water, was a luxury residential area with dozens of villas and several high-rise intelligent apartment buildings. Its residents were all people of wealth and accomplishment. That night, after the security staff changed shifts, a routine patrol heard a piercing scream from the rooftop of a thirty-story building, then witnessed a grisly scene—eleven people leaped to their deaths at once, their bodies shattered. Their screams alerted many neighbors, who witnessed the horror, including a seven-year-old girl who saw her own father jump from the building opposite her window.

Those who died were eight men and three women, all worth millions at least. Most were strangers to one another, and all had been behaving normally beforehand—no sign of business troubles or depression. Some had planned family trips the next day, others were preparing for weddings. That these unrelated people would gather and leap together was baffling enough; the motive was even more inscrutable.

After watching for a long time, the group could glean nothing useful, the sequence of events remaining a mystery, leaving them gloomy and unsure what to do.

A dozen people taking their own lives simultaneously was indeed unfathomable. Shi Jun understood Hu Hai’s anxiety—it was all because the talisman that released the imprisoned ghosts was something they had inadvertently activated. If the suicides were connected to the escaped ghosts, Hu Hai would be under immense psychological pressure. Shi Jun was no less anxious himself, but he knew that worrying before the facts were clear was pointless. The priority was to understand the situation; if Hu Hai’s fears proved true, they would need to act quickly to prevent more deaths. They were responsible for releasing the ghosts, so it was their duty to capture them again.

Chi Shang and Wang Li finally understood Hu Hai’s reaction, exchanging solemn glances but saying nothing. Just then, the TV showed a woman in her forties—introduced as a popular author beloved by young people—dressed garishly, her lips thickly painted blood-red to set off two garish yellow buck teeth. She simpered and rolled her eyes, saying, “That’s why I say, making money isn’t the most important thing. What matters is spiritual fulfillment and satisfaction. A simple life is best! I never want to be rich, because then I’d lose so many of life’s pleasures...”

* * *

“Nonsense! What rubbish is this old woman spouting?” Hu Hai, already agitated, jumped up. Then, frowning at Shi Jun, asked, “What do we do?”

Before Shi Jun could answer, Chi Shang spoke first. “My lord, if you’re worried this is the work of our brothers, why not let us investigate first?”

“Hahaha!” Modo burst out laughing before Chi Shang finished.

Chi Shang glared at Modo and shrugged. “Whatever. If the young demon prince wants to go, I’m happy to relax.”

Shi Jun understood everyone’s motives: Chi Shang and Wang Li weren’t sure if their brothers were responsible, so they wanted to see for themselves. Modo laughed to remind Shi Jun to be careful—the brothers might cover up for their own or even turn against him. The joy of completing the Ice Shield had long faded, replaced by a sense of confusion. He steadied himself and told Chi Shang, “Go and see. Report back if you find anything.”

Chi Shang’s pale face showed a fleeting smile as he shot Modo a glance, then left with Wang Li. Shi Jun sighed and slipped out to the balcony to be alone.

* * *

Now, with Modo, Hu Hai, and Liu Qing all joining him on the balcony, it was clear they didn’t fully trust Chi Shang and Wang Li. But what could distrust accomplish? If the incident really was the work of the other ghosts, and Chi Shang and Wang Li chose to protect them, forbidding them from investigating would hardly stop them from acting against the group. Shi Jun wanted to explain his thoughts patiently, but couldn’t summon the energy, so he forced a smile. “Alright, stop staring at each other. We don’t have any results yet, so it’s too soon to panic.” With that, he gently pushed past Hu Hai and returned to the living room, sitting cross-legged on the sofa and closing his eyes.

He had barely settled when Hu Hai stormed in, glowering, and shoved aside the two impostors who were seated next to Shi Jun. He sat down opposite, glaring in silence.

“What are you looking at? There’s nothing special about my face,” Shi Jun said, feeling awkward under his gaze.

“I want to know what’s going on! I’m worried sick while you’re just sitting here meditating!” Hu Hai grumbled. “If it really was the ghosts, what then?”

“What do you mean, what then?” Shi Jun feigned ignorance, chuckling.

“Don’t joke—those are people’s lives!” Hu Hai seemed genuinely upset, eyes bloodshot. He spread his hands before Shi Jun. “If it’s true, then these hands are stained with their blood! I’ve killed chickens and ducks for my mom, accidentally stepped on ants, deliberately swatted flies and mosquitoes, but I never thought I’d kill people!”

If it really was the ghosts, then to them, killing people might be no different than us swatting mosquitoes, Shi Jun thought. He was silent for a moment, then smiled bitterly. “Does worrying help?”

“I don’t know. I just want to know what we’ll do if it’s true,” Hu Hai muttered.

“I hope it’s not,” Shi Jun replied coldly, gently pushing aside Hu Hai’s hands. “But if it is, I won’t let them off easily.”

“To avenge the dead? But the real culprits are us,” Hu Hai murmured, staring at his hands.

Shi Jun shook his head. “That’s not right. What do you want to do—kill yourself in atonement? If it really was the ghosts, we should bear some responsibility, but instead of self-recrimination, we should focus on fixing things. What matters now is catching the ghosts—if they’re the murderers, only that can prevent further tragedy. Releasing them was an accident; now it’s our duty to recapture them. Will sighing or killing yourself a thousand times bring those people back? No!”

“Well said!” Liu Qing entered just as Shi Jun finished, speaking gently to Hu Hai. “Relax, don’t dwell on it. There’s no point in talking now—why not join us in practicing the new spells?”

Liu Qing hoped to distract Hu Hai, who was usually obsessed with cultivation and would light up at the suggestion. But now, he just sat there, dejected. “You don’t need to worry about me—nothing I do is any use...” Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Hu Hai’s spirits lifted and he shouted, “They’re back!” and rushed to the door.

He was so flustered he didn’t consider that Chi Shang and Wang Li weren’t ordinary people—if they wanted in, they’d just come in, not bother knocking. Shi Jun noticed the two impostors still standing awkwardly aside, quickly hustled one into the bedroom, and accidentally knocked over the coffee table, sending teacups rolling. Modo dashed in from the balcony to help, nearly slipping on a cup, while Liu Qing, not wanting to be seen, darted into another room. The living room was thrown into chaos.