Grandmaster of Heavenly Charm

Wen Ning stood motionless, his head slightly bowed and arms hanging limp at his sides, reminiscent of a marionette awaiting its puppeteer's command.

His face, though pale and delicate, bore a haunting beauty tinged with melancholy. Yet, the absence of pupils in his eyes, leaving only stark whiteness, coupled with the black fissures creeping up his neck onto his cheeks, transformed his melancholy into something truly terrifying. His tattered robes revealed wrists as pallid as his face, adorned with jet-black iron shackles and chains that also bound his ankles. The eerie clanking of metal accompanied his every movement, only to be replaced by an oppressive silence when he stood still.

It was no wonder the cultivators present were paralyzed with fear. Even Wei Wuxian, despite his familiarity with the supernatural, felt waves of shock crashing over him.

Wen Ning's presence here was more than unexpected—it was an impossibility. He should have been reduced to ashes long before the siege at Burial Mounds!

Jin Ling, hearing Wen Ning's name uttered by those around him, instinctively redirected his sword from the Soul-Devouring Goddess. Seizing this moment of distraction, she gleefully extended her arm, hoisting Jin Ling into the air.

As the Goddess opened her mouth wide, inching towards Jin Ling's face, Wei Wuxian pushed aside his inner turmoil and raised his flute once more. His hands trembled slightly, causing the melody to waver. The crude craftsmanship of the instrument only added to its haunting, almost grating sound. With just two mournful notes, Wen Ning sprang into action.

In the blink of an eye, Wen Ning appeared before the Soul-Devouring Goddess. With a swift, open-palmed strike, he sent her head spinning a full rotation, though her body remained motionless, her face still locked in an eerie smile as it now faced backward. Another lightning-fast chop from Wen Ning severed the Goddess's right arm, freeing Jin Ling from her grasp.

The Goddess glanced down at her cleanly severed wrist, but instead of adjusting her head, she simply rotated her body to face Wen Ning with both her front and back simultaneously. Wei Wuxian, not daring to let his guard down, took a deep breath and bent his head, focusing intently on controlling Wen Ning in the ensuing battle. However, as the fight progressed, he found himself growing increasingly alarmed.

Unlike lower-tier walking corpses that required constant guidance, or even the more powerful fierce corpses with their muddled consciousness, Wen Ning was unique. As Wei Wuxian's creation, he could be considered the most formidable fierce corpse in existence. He possessed the ability to think and reason, immune to injury, fire, cold, poison, and all mortal fears—essentially indistinguishable from the living.

But now, Wen Ning clearly lacked his own consciousness!

As Wei Wuxian grappled with this unsettling realization, gasps of astonishment erupted from the onlookers. Wen Ning had pinned the Soul-Devouring Goddess to the ground with a flurry of kicks and strikes. He then lifted a massive boulder, easily twice his height, and brought it crashing down upon her. The thunderous impacts continued relentlessly until the Goddess's stone body was reduced to nothing but rubble.

Amidst the sea of white stone fragments, a pearl emitting a snow-white glow rolled into view—the condensed essence of the dozen or so souls the Goddess had devoured. If retrieved and handled with care, there was hope of restoring those whose souls had been consumed. However, at that moment, not a single person dared to reach for the pearl. Every sword that had been pointed at the Goddess now turned towards Wen Ning.

A cultivator cried out in a voice raw with fear, "Surround him!" Some hesitantly responded, while others wavered, taking tentative steps backward. The same cultivator shouted again, "Fellow Daoists, we must not let him escape! This is Wen Ning!"

His words jolted the crowd into action. The Ghost General was far more formidable than any soul-devouring monster. Though they didn't understand why he had appeared, capturing Wen Ning would be a feat worth a thousand slain demons. After all, he was the most obedient and vicious hound of the Yiling Patriarch—subduing him would bring instant fame and glory! The cultivators had come to Night-Hunt on Mount Dafan to prove their worth by defeating monsters and fiends; this unexpected opportunity was too tempting to resist. But those who had witnessed Wen Ning's terrifying rampages in the past still hesitated to move. Seeing this, the outspoken cultivator added, "What are you afraid of? The Yiling Patriarch isn't even here!"

This final push was enough to sway the crowd. After all, what was there to fear when Wen Ning's master had already been torn to shreds?

As these words sank in, the circle of swords surrounding Wen Ning suddenly constricted. Wen Ning swung his arms, the heavy black chains sweeping through the air and deflecting the flying swords. In a single stride, he seized the nearest cultivator by the throat, effortlessly lifting him off the ground. Realizing that his earlier flute melody had been too forceful, unleashing Wen Ning's violent nature, Wei Wuxian steadied himself and began to play a different tune.

This new melody emerged naturally from his mind, gentle and soothing, a stark contrast to the earlier eerie notes. Wen Ning froze at the sound, slowly turning towards its source. Wei Wuxian stood his ground, meeting Wen Ning's pupilless gaze.

After a moment, Wen Ning released the cultivator, letting him crumple to the ground. With arms hanging limply, he began to walk towards Wei Wuxian, his chains dragging behind him in a dejected manner. Wei Wuxian continued to play as he retreated, luring Wen Ning away. As they moved deeper into the forest, a faint scent of sandalwood drifted through the air.

Suddenly, Wei Wuxian's back collided with someone, and a sharp pain shot through his wrist, abruptly silencing his flute. He turned, his eyes meeting the ice-cold gaze of Lan Wangji.

This was bad—Lan Wangji had witnessed him controlling corpses with his flute before.

Lan Wangji's grip on Wei Wuxian's wrist was unyielding. Wen Ning stood motionless barely ten paces away, his head swiveling slowly as if searching for the vanished flute melody. In the distance, the glow of torches and the clamor of voices approached. Wei Wuxian's mind raced, and he made a split-second decision: So what if Lan Wangji had seen? Countless people could play the flute, and many had learned to control corpses in imitation of the Yiling Patriarch. He would deny everything!

Ignoring the hand restraining him, Wei Wuxian raised the flute to his lips once more. This time, he played with even greater urgency, the notes sharp and commanding, his breath unsteady and the final tones breaking harshly. He felt Lan Wangji's grip tighten painfully, threatening to snap his wrist. Unable to endure the agony, Wei Wuxian's fingers loosened, and the flute clattered to the ground.

Fortunately, his command had been clear enough. Wen Ning swiftly retreated, vanishing silently into the shadows of the forest. Wei Wuxian, fearing Lan Wangji might pursue Wen Ning, instinctively grabbed him. To his surprise, Lan Wangji hadn't spared Wen Ning a single glance, his eyes fixed solely on Wei Wuxian. They stood there, locked in a silent standoff, each gripping the other tightly.

It was at this moment that Jiang Cheng arrived on the scene.

He had been impatiently waiting for news in Baofoot Town, barely finishing a cup of tea when a disciple came rushing down the mountain with tales of a formidable and vicious entity. Alarmed, Jiang Cheng had hurried up the mountain, calling out, "A-Ling!"

Jin Ling, who had narrowly escaped having his soul devoured, now stood unharmed. "Uncle!" he responded.

Seeing Jin Ling safe, Jiang Cheng felt a wave of relief wash over him, quickly followed by anger. "Didn't you bring any signal flares? You encounter something like this and don't even think to use them? Why are you trying to act tough? Get over here now!"

Jin Ling, frustrated at failing to capture the Soul-Devouring Goddess, retorted angrily, "Weren't you the one who told me not to come back unless I caught it?!"

Jiang Cheng was tempted to smack some sense into the impudent boy, but he couldn't deny his own words. Instead, he turned his attention to the battered cultivators strewn about, sneering, "What kind of creature could have defeated you all so thoroughly?"

Among the cultivators in various sect robes were several Cloud Recesses disciples in disguise, secretly assisting Jin Ling on Jiang Cheng's orders—a testament to the uncle's concern for his nephew's success. One of the cultivators, still dazed, stammered, "Sect Leader, it... it was Wen Ning..."

Jiang Cheng doubted his own ears. "What did you say?"

The man repeated, "Wen Ning has returned!"

In an instant, a maelstrom of emotions—shock, disgust, anger, and disbelief—flashed across Jiang Cheng's face.

After a long moment, he spoke in a cold voice, "That thing was ground to dust and displayed for all to see. How could it possibly come back?"

The disciple insisted, "It really was Wen Ning! There's no mistake! I saw him with my own eyes!" Suddenly, he pointed towards the forest, "...He summoned him!"

Wei Wuxian, still locked in a standoff with Lan Wangji, suddenly found himself the center of attention. Jiang Cheng's gaze, sharp as lightning, slowly turned in his direction.

After what felt like an eternity, Jiang Cheng's lips twisted into a distorted smile. His left hand unconsciously began to fidget with his ring as he whispered, "...Well, well. You've returned?"

He released his left hand, and a whip unfurled from it.

The whip was incredibly thin, true to its name—Zidian, a crackling stream of purple lightning. It looked like a bolt of lightning plucked from a storm-laden sky, firmly grasped in Jiang Cheng's hand. When he swung it, it was as if he was hurling a bolt of lightning itself!

Before Wei Wuxian could react, Lan Wangji had already flipped his guqin into position. With a single pluck of the strings, ripples of sound waves spread through the air, clashing with the purple lightning. The two forces ebbed and flowed against each other.

Jiang Cheng's earlier resolve to "avoid rash confrontations" and "not antagonize the Lan Clan" seemed to have vanished entirely. Above the night-shrouded forests of Mount Dafan, flashes of purple light alternated with blinding white, accompanied by crashes of thunder and soaring guqin notes. The other cultivators quickly retreated to a safe distance, watching with a mix of fear and fascination. It was a rare opportunity to witness two renowned clan leaders in combat, and many secretly hoped for an even fiercer battle. Some even harbored unspoken wishes for a true rift to form between the Jiang and Lan clans. Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian, seizing his chance, broke into a run.

The crowd gasped in unison. The whip hadn't struck him only because Lan Wangji had been shielding him. By running away, wasn't he courting death?

Indeed, it seemed as if Jiang Cheng had eyes in the back of his head. The moment Wei Wuxian left Lan Wangji's protective range, Jiang Cheng seized the opportunity. With a flick of his wrist, he sent Zidian flying like a venomous dragon, striking Wei Wuxian squarely in the back!

The force of the blow nearly sent Wei Wuxian flying. Fortunately, his donkey blocked his path, preventing him from crashing into a tree. However, the successful strike caused both Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng to pause, bewildered.

Wei Wuxian, rubbing his back and leaning on the donkey for support, shouted from behind the animal, "Oh, how impressive! The mighty can do as they please, huh? Just attacking people at random! Tsk, tsk, tsk!"

Lan Wangji: "..."

Jiang Cheng: "..."

Jiang Cheng, both shocked and enraged, demanded, "What's going on?!"

Zidian possessed a unique ability: if it struck someone who had been possessed, it would instantly separate the invading soul from the body. The possessing spirit would be forcibly ejected, without exception. Yet this man, after being struck, continued to move normally, even energetically. There could be no other explanation—he was not possessed.

Wei Wuxian, however, thought to himself, "Of course Zidian couldn't expel my soul. This isn't possession; it's willing sacrifice. Forced sacrifice!"

Jiang Cheng's face was a mask of doubt and suspicion. He was about to strike again when Lan Jingyi called out, "Sect Leader Jiang, isn't that enough? That was Zidian, after all!"

A spiritual weapon of Zidian's caliber wouldn't fail on the first try and succeed on the second. If it didn't expel a soul, it meant there was no possession. Otherwise, its reputation would be for naught. Lan Jingyi's outburst forced Jiang Cheng, who valued his reputation above all, to stay his hand.

But if it wasn't Wei Wuxian, who else could have summoned Wen Ning?!

Unable to accept this, Jiang Cheng pointed at Wei Wuxian and demanded, "Who exactly are you?!"

At this point, an onlooker eager for drama chimed in, clearing his throat, "Sect Leader Jiang, you might not be aware, but this Mo Xuanyu was once a disciple of the Lanling Jin Sect. However, due to his weak spiritual power and lack of dedication to cultivation, along with... certain inappropriate behaviors towards fellow disciples, he was expelled. I heard he even went mad? In my opinion, he probably turned to unorthodox methods out of frustration with his lack of progress in proper cultivation. It's unlikely that he's actually possessed by the... Yiling Patriarch."

Jiang Cheng asked, "Certain... what?"

"You know... that thing..."

Someone finally blurted out, "He likes men!"

Jiang Cheng's eyebrow twitched, his gaze towards Wei Wuxian becoming even more disdainful. There were other things left unsaid in Jiang Cheng's presence.

Despite his notorious reputation, it had to be acknowledged that Wei Wuxian, before betraying the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, had been a renowned beauty, accomplished in the six arts, ranking fourth among the most handsome young masters of the cultivation world—described as "graceful and elegant." This hot-tempered Jiang Sect Leader ranked fifth, just behind him, which was why no one dared mention it. Wei Wuxian had been known for his flirtatious nature, often entangling himself with beautiful women, but no one had ever heard of him being interested in men. Even if he were to possess someone or return from the dead... given Wei Wuxian's tastes, he would never choose a mad, fruit-eating donkey rider with a face painted like a hanged ghost!

Someone else muttered, "It doesn't seem likely... and that flute playing was so awful... Such a poor imitation, like the ugly Dong Shi trying to copy Xi Shi's frown."

During the Sunshot Campaign, the Yiling Patriarch had played his flute on the battlefield, commanding an army of fierce corpses and ghosts that swept through everything in their path, unstoppable as a force of nature. His flute's melody had been likened to celestial music—how could it be compared to the pathetic wailing produced by this Jin Sect reject? Even if Wei Wuxian had been of questionable character, such a comparison was too insulting.

Wei Wuxian felt slightly dejected: ...Try not practicing for over a decade, then carve out a crude flute and see how well you can play it! I'll kneel before you if you can make it sound good!

Earlier, when Jiang Cheng had been convinced this person was Wei Wuxian, his blood had boiled with rage. But now, Zidian had clearly proven otherwise. Zidian would never lie to him or make a mistake. He quickly regained his composure, thinking to himself: It's not a big deal. I'll find an excuse to take him back, then use every means necessary to interrogate him. He's bound to slip up eventually. It wouldn't be the first time I've done something like this. Having made up his mind, he made a gesture. His disciples understood and began to close in. Wei Wuxian hurriedly jumped behind Lan Wangji, clutching his chest dramatically, "Ah, what are you planning to do to me?"

Lan Wangji glanced at him, tolerating this extremely discourteous and noisy behavior.

Seeing that Lan Wangji had no intention of moving aside, Jiang Cheng said, "Second Young Master Lan, are you deliberately trying to obstruct me?"

Everyone knew that the young Jiang Sect Leader's vigilance against Wei Wuxian had reached an almost manic level. He would rather make a mistake than let a potential threat slip by, often taking anyone suspected of being possessed by Wei Wuxian back to Lotus Pier for severe interrogation. If he were to take this person back, he would surely torture him half to death. Lan Sizhui spoke up, "Sect Leader Jiang, the facts are clear. Young Master Mo has not been possessed. Why trouble yourself with such an insignificant person?"

Jiang Cheng coldly retorted, "Then may I ask why Second Young Master Lan has been so intent on protecting this 'insignificant person' from the start?"

Suddenly, Wei Wuxian let out a couple of suppressed laughs.

He said, "Sect Leader Jiang, you know, your persistence is making me uncomfortable."

Jiang Cheng's eyebrow twitched twice, instinctively sensing that whatever this person was about to say would not be to his liking.

Wei Wuxian continued, "You're being too enthusiastic. Thank you, but you're also overthinking things. Even if I do like men, it doesn't mean I like all men, and I certainly wouldn't follow just any man who beckons. Your type, for instance, doesn't interest me at all."

Wei Wuxian was deliberately trying to provoke him. Jiang Cheng, who hated being outdone in any way, no matter how trivial, would always become irritated if someone suggested he was inferior to another. True to form, Jiang Cheng's face turned ashen: "Oh? Then pray tell, what type do you like?"

Wei Wuxian replied, "What type? Hmm, someone like Hanguang-Jun here, for example. I quite like him."

Lan Wangji was someone who absolutely could not tolerate such frivolous jokes. When disgusted, he would always actively distance himself. Wei Wuxian thought he had succeeded in offending two people at once, killing two birds with one stone!

To his surprise, Lan Wangji turned around at these words.

With an expressionless face, he said, "You said it yourself."

Wei Wuxian: "Huh?"

Lan Wangji turned back, his tone polite but brooking no argument, "I'm taking this person back to the Lan Sect."

Wei Wuxian: "..."

Wei Wuxian: "...What?"