Wandering Gods of Day and Night-Chapter 402 - 223: Capturing the Evil Ghost

"You want to take control of the Blood Well Society? Gather all of your twisted bunch together? I think... fascinating!"

Yun Ziliang greatly admired Zhou Xuan’s idea. Each Blood Well Spirit Communicator possessed immense Perception. If this group were to assemble, what level of Perception could they reach?

"Perception has always been the most important resource of Jing Country. The walkers who tread between Yin and Yang worship gods through perceiving blood, flesh, spirit, and Dao. The stronger the Perception, the finer the experience, and the higher the potential limit,

but in past conversations about Perception, it was always about individuals. If all these Blood Well Spirit Communicators were brought together to pool their strengths, what revelations might emerge? Truly something to look forward to."

Yun Ziliang suddenly felt that longevity was indeed a blessing. One could hear melodious songs and witness extraordinary events. How interesting, utterly interesting.

"There will be plenty more interesting things to come."

Zhou Xuan wasn’t just speaking idly. If Yun Ziliang knew about the existence of the Prajnaparamita Buddha Country, his expression would surely be remarkable.

...

The night deepened. Zhou Xuan lay on his bed, his mind entering the Divine Revelation Secret Realm.

This time, the Blood Well’s handling of the sacrifice was extraordinarily strange.

Three hundred years ago in Peng Town, the Blood Well devoured the blood and flesh vessels of the Tree Clan.

Those vessels were created from the twelve highest incense-bearers of the Tree Clan. With offerings of seven sticks, eight sticks of incense, the vessels still contained significant spiritual essence even though the Blood Well hadn’t fully consumed them. Just the portions it did devour were abundant in incense fire.

After consuming such a large quantity of sacrifices, the Blood Well did not ask Zhou Xuan how he intended to use the offerings this time—whether for "Divination" or "God Sculpting."

This time, the Blood Well directly initiated "God Sculpting."

Snow fell within the City God Taoist Temple, and a fierce wind swept the snowflakes onto the Divine Platform inside the temple.

Amid the blizzard, Zhou Xuan seemed to hear the sounds of "chisels, axes, and sculpting tools striking stone," as if a master craftsman were carving a godly statue within the snowstorm.

After countless strikes, when the snow eventually settled, Zhou Xuan saw on the Divine Platform a headless figure.

Previously, Zhou Xuan had offered the Suffering Scholar, the Temple Master, and the Autopsy Hall Master as sacrifices, only managing to sculpt four limbs onto the statue.

Now, after the Blood Well consumed the vessel sacrifices, it managed to mold the statue, leaving only the head unfinished.

Though the statue lacked a head, Zhou Xuan could already deduce the identity of the figure on the Divine Platform from its form...

"Taohua Witch Peng Sheng?"

Zhou Xuan circled the Divine Platform several times, becoming increasingly convinced that the statue’s body was identical to Peng Sheng’s.

At that moment, his mind became flooded with scenes of Peng Sheng’s final battle...

...Peng Sheng hung upside down from the Ancestor Tree, exhausting his spirit and body, using the twenty-four Divine Images to clash against "Peng Hou’s" Heavenly Ghost Map.

"Brother Peng, you are the tragic High Priest of the Tree Clan, but why have you appeared on the Blood Well’s Divine Platform?"

Zhou Xuan was puzzled and sought an answer from the Blood Well.

The Blood Well remained silent.

"Well, you sure know how to keep quiet."

Since the Blood Well refused to speak, Zhou Xuan could only make blind guesses.

"Are you creating a Peng Sheng to teach me tattooing?"

An eight-incense Tattoo Master to guide Zhou Xuan in perfecting his tattooing technique, making his skill even more precise?

The eyes within the Blood Well collectively looked skyward, neither confirming nor denying Zhou Xuan’s guess.

"Well, you’ve been behaving quite mischievously lately. Forget it, I don’t feel like guessing anymore."

After all, the statue of Peng Sheng lacked a head, and even if Zhou Xuan guessed correctly, it would only lead to frustration.

Zhou Xuan severed his connection to the Secret Realm. Lying in bed, he began another Divine Travel.

Having gained experience from his previous venture, Zhou Xuan felt significantly more adept at Night Travel this time.

On this Night Travel, he no longer needed to emit that piercing cry, and this time he wasn’t just an isolated pair of eyes or a singular perspective.

When Zhou Xuan looked down at himself, he discovered that he had become a massive, ghostly shadow floating mid-air.

The shadow was colossal, resembling a giant.

Zhou Xuan’s gigantic shadow exuded an ethereal grace, as if "walking beneath the radiant Bright Moon."

"There’s a sense of freedom, like an eagle soaring."

While admiring this newfound feeling, a powerful surge of Buddha energy resonated around him.

He immediately turned toward the source of the energy. The Buddha energy emanated from the Peng Family Mountain.

"Peng Family Mountain! Old Li and the Painter—they should be searching for the Buddha Mantra there, shouldn’t they? But where did this Buddha energy come from?"

With this thought in mind, Zhou Xuan guided his enormous shadowy form toward Peng Family Mountain for a Night Travel...

...

Within the secluded valley of Peng Family Mountain, untouched by human presence, the Painter, the Music Master, Shang Wenjun, and other high incense-bearers of Mingjiang Prefecture had all gathered.

Li Chengfeng informed them that their task was to locate a Buddha Mantra—a square meter in size, with the texture of flesh and muscle in hand.

Although the description was straightforward, without specific techniques, searching blindly would be like fishing for a needle in the ocean.

Thankfully, Shang Wenjun had her own methods.

The way a Witch accumulates incense fire was by closing her eyes daily, meditating, and attuning herself to the shifts in the world’s energy.

At this moment, her body floated ten meters above the ground. Her eyes were gently closed, sensing the flow and resonance of the Buddha energy within Peng Family Mountain.

After a prolonged period of sensing, she pinpointed the location and opened her eyes, descending gracefully to the ground.

"Follow me."

Shang Wenjun led the group in the direction of the leaking Buddha energy.

When the group arrived at a small creek, Shang Wenjun extended a strand of red silk from her palm, which then stretched into the creek below.

Tens of thousands of red silk threads pierced through the creek’s surface, delving into the streambed. Beneath the pebbles and soil, they continued searching for dozens of meters. One of the strands first touched upon a "flesh-textured object," and the rest of the threads swarmed it, wrapping it tightly.

Once the red silk secured its prize, Shang Wenjun retracted the strands, forcefully pulling the object from the earth dozens of meters below.

The object was cylindrical, resembling a scroll. As the red silk receded, it finally fell into Shang Wenjun’s hands.

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