Longevity Strange Immortal

The sky was dim.

Streets and alleys were shrouded in surreal and bizarre visions.

The current Teaching Daoist Temple, known in ancient times as "Kou Xian Sect" of the Heavenly Sword Sect, was mortals' sole access to the sect.

But who would have thought the Kou Xian Sect would devolve into an uncanny and inexplicable shadow puppet play?

Night was approaching, the sky radiating with an incomplete afterglow, turning Purple Sun Palace into a fiery tapestry shimmering under twilight's velvet.

No evil spirits appeared, yet the number of shadow puppets on the walls increased, their line-drawn features growing eerily realistic.

A sorrowful moon lute strummed, with its second string lending support to rhythmical dry drum beats, faintly carrying a chillingly macabre tune.

"Setting the stage, renewing the guise, lingering by the pouch to test truth's disguise."

"Three feet of raw silk forms the platform, all relying on these ten fingers' wit and charm."

...…

Purple Sun Palace resembled an absurd and grotesque shadow puppet theater, brimming with unfathomable oddities.

As the Teaching Daoist Temple's opening drew near, the puppets became increasingly lifelike.

Getting closer to the walls, one could even hear faint whispering debates.

In the shadowy alleyways, two figures cautiously treaded along the path, met by terror-struck expressions from the puppets upon their passing.

Li Mo carried the Illusion Fish Sword, his peripheral gaze fixed on the varied, peculiar puppets.

"Senior Brother Taiyi, stop staring."

Ye Zhuo Daoist was deeply uneasy, fearing Li Mo might trigger some taboo.

Lest one forget: in less than an hour, darkness would engulf them. Should something go wrong, they might face attacks from countless Sword Ghosts.

"Let's move."

The shadow puppets infested the Great Sun Sword Tomb, presumably originating from it.

Li Mo suspected that the Twenty-Eight Sword Tombs were once ancient cultivators.

It was plausible that these might have been high-ranking Sword Cultivators of the Heavenly Sword Sect, reduced to tombs devoid of consciousness during cosmic upheavals.

For days, Li Mo had been digesting information fed back by the Creation Book.

Fragments of memory revealed the Heavenly Sword Sect transforming mortals into shadow puppets, seemingly harvesting expendable materials for their uses — though Li Mo felt an unsettling anomaly in this logic.

"Something's off. Maybe once Teaching Daoist Temple opens, we'll uncover the truth amidst the illusion."

Suppressing distracting thoughts, Li Mo softly asked, "Ye Zhuo, how much longer?"

"Relax, we'll reach the Che Xu Temple before nightfall."

Ye Zhuo Daoist wiped sweat from his brow, his gaze darting around, muttering incessantly while ensuring their navigation path was correct.

The route appeared straightforward, but in practice needed consideration of numerous variables.

Ye Zhuo Daoist meticulously researched taboos associated with every temple they passed nearby, deliberately evading the gaze of Sword Ghosts to exploit their blind spots.

"The Sword Ghost at Che Xu Temple is called "Donkey Guest." We should merge into the group of Sword Ghosts in its vicinity."

Their pace quickened.

Donkey Guest, as one of the Big Night Wanders, possessed power comparable to the Heavenly Palace Stage, bolstered by taboos whose depth remained immeasurable — impossible to confront directly.

Ye Zhuo Daoist, employing unknown ingenuity, had managed to discern the taboos tethered to the Big Night Wander.

As he advanced further into the city, his movements grew increasingly fluid and adept.

"The central region of Purple Sun Palace, densely scattered with temples, seldom sees Sword Cultivators appear. Ironically, it's relatively safer."

When passing by a dilapidated temple, Ye Zhuo Daoist knocked gently on its door; a hoarse voice responded from within.

"If you don't mind an old woman's company, you may stay a night in my house."

Li Mo squinted, activating his Cave God's Eye to peer inside through a crack in the door.

He saw an old woman whose wrinkled skin covered her entire body, leaning on a bone staff made of human remains, while countless stinking insects crawled out from beneath her skin.

"Little Night Wander [Hong Xiu], offer her three taels of human skin in exchange for shelter."

Li Mo pondered deeply.

In fragmented memories from the Creation Book, a female cultivator named Hong Xiu was indeed once within the same sect as Yu Xiao.

Li Mo remembered her because, in the Heavenly Sword Sect back then, Hong Xiu's appearance rivaled that of Yu Xiao.

Of course, Senior Sister Yu Xiao was always notorious for her ruthless and merciless nature.

Zu Xiuyun, based on the Twelve True Words' "three parts gold and one part tin" selection, had already demonstrated that Fifth Senior Sister epitomized the peak of Sword Cultivators.

"Senior Brother Taiyi, don't forget the location of Red Sleeve Daoist Temple. If danger arises, we'll split up and retreat to this point."

Li Mo nodded in acknowledgment.

Ye Zhuo Daoist, despite his odd fascinations, undoubtedly had more knowledge about Sword Ghosts than all the other Sword Cultivators combined.

Fearing Li Mo's displeasure, Ye Zhuo Daoist explained, "We should reach Juxin Temple earlier to hide in its recesses and gain a tactical advantage."

"You handle things your way."

"Alright."

"Next, we'll cross the edge of Night Wanderer Temple toward Che Xu Temple. The taboo there is silence—no sound must be made—and we'll encounter other taboos along the way."

Ye Zhuo Daoist spoke gravely, his expression heavy as he continued: "No matter what I do, Senior Brother, you must follow immediately."

Li Mo was already informed of certain taboos from Ye Zhuo Daoist but knew the latter wasn't entirely confident whether the taboos had undergone changes.

It was Ye Zhuo Daoist's refusal to rely solely on his own experiences to assess dangers that had allowed him to survive for three hundred years within Purple Sun Palace.

After confirming their plans repeatedly, the pair disappeared into the alleys.

The world fell utterly silent.

Grass sprouted between the cracks of stone flooring, and a cricket perched on a leaf remained deathly still.

Li Mo discerned that the cricket was likewise forged from Flying Sword essence, albeit so weak it could not even classify as Cocoon Sword or Pupa Sword.

Their steps hastened, their mastery of controlling body and soul having reached its Divine Separation Stage peak.

After striding through the alleys for merely ten minutes, Li Mo noticed lanterns lighting up in the distances — black shadows with elongated limbs seemed to stand beneath them.

Upon witnessing this, Ye Zhuo Daoist decisively snapped his own neck, causing his head to twist 180 degrees backward.

Li Mo did the same, only to realize that at some point, black shadows had drawn within ten meters of them—visible solely to naked eyes.

The shadows flickered ghost-like, appearing and disappearing unpredictably.

Ye Zhuo Daoist persistently rotated his neck, undeterred by his bones nearing their limits.

They exited the lanterns' boundaries, and the shadows vanished.

Ye Zhuo Daoist exhaled deeply, gestured toward his eyes, then closed his own before veering right into another street.

Li Mo sealed off his vision, relying on his sensory connection to Ye Zhuo Daoist's aura.

His eardrums resonated.

It was likely the playing of some harmonic instrument—Sword Qi woven into sound attempting to penetrate his mind. Yet without vision, it failed to trigger any taboos.

He could smell the pungent stench of blood, his feet clearly feeling the grit of congealed blood covering the ground, alongside occasional remnants of severed limbs.

"..."

An icy dread slithered down Li Mo's spine as he suddenly entertained a possibility.

The Heavenly Sword Sect disciples amidst cosmic upheaval, their mutated state spiraling out of control, were undoubtedly the first Sword Ghosts born.

The so-called taboos.

Could they have emerged from the manners of their deaths?

Hong Xiu met her end through flaying; Turbid Candle burned alive; Wuxin perished during his teaching rites; Monk perhaps died investigating the sect's misdeeds, having succumbed to his earthly desires...

"Mortals, mortals, mortals."

Li Mo gnashed his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead as he muttered angrily to himself, "Can someone *please* tell me how mortals managed to slaughter the Heavenly Sword Sect to the last person?!!"

"Survivors, scared witless, fled into containers, eking out existence for thousands of years yet shivering at its mere mention."

"Phew, made it through." Ye Zhuo Daoist breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

The Big Night Wander held dominion over three to four hundred temples. Even skirting their fringes exposed them to the terrifying taboos of the Void Refining Stage.

Ye Zhuo Daoist burst into eerie laughter.

Perhaps years spent flirting with death's edge had warped his psyche irreversibly.

Li Mo was jolted out of his musings on the sect's secrets. Turning his gaze skyward, he watched the last hint of sunset sink beneath the clouds.

Total darkness loomed.

They dared not linger long, continuing to thread through eerily uniform streets and alleys, all observed by multitudes of puppets as they finally arrived at their destination.

Che Xu Temple.

The temple comprised eight individual halls, from which wafted the stench of livestock. Various animal hides were strung out to dry along the walls.

"High-quality spiritual materials, sufficient to craft Hundred Refinement Magical Artifacts. Back in the day, I'd visit every so often to grab a few hides to pay debts…"

"Debts?"

Li Mo's expression turned amused, and Ye Zhuo Daoist, realizing his slip, laughed awkwardly.

"Uh, outside Purple Sun Palace, there's a Night Wanderer Temple whose rules mimic those of casino houses in the mortal world — except the stakes are *a bit unique*."

"I placed a few bets there once and almost got ground to dust."

Li Mo understood that "casino house" was another term for gambling dens. Never had he imagined Ye Zhuo Daoist slipping out of Purple Sun Palace — truly unrestrained.

Ye Zhuo Daoist coughed, "Senior Brother, whatever you do, don't tell Elder Luoyang."

"Even though many Sword Cultivators have done the same, officially leaving Purple Sun Palace remains forbidden. I was merely… chasing a fortuitous encounter."

Li Mo's lip twitched, thinking: perhaps even the Sword Ghosts of Purple Sun Palace had grown bored of their existence.

Ye Zhuo Daoist said no more, vaulting over the courtyard wall with his right hand and casually pocketing a few drying hides into his Storage Bag.

"I'm quite familiar with Donkey Guest; we can treat this place as our own home."

His waist bore multiple Storage Bags, clearly looted from different Sword Cultivators, with some even laced with faint traces of alien energies.

It seemed Ye Zhuo Daoist had resorted to sleazy thievery to repay past debts.

Li Mo activated his Cave God's Eye, scanning around Che Xu Temple's architecture, discovering the side hall housed numerous livestock, fat and hearty.

These animals were no ordinary livestock — they had been forcibly transformed by Sword Ghosts.

Li Mo spotted a yellow ox, visibly a recent addition to Che Xu Temple, its hide marked with stitches leaking blood from within.

The ox's internal structure was grotesquely deformed, as if composed of chaotically assembled flesh, bones, and sinew.

He suspected Donkey Guest compressed the Sword Ghosts into meat paste, forcing the mixture into various hides before allowing the injuries to heal, resulting in livestock one after another.

"Che Xu…"

Ye Zhuo Daoist paused, pointing to the open door of the main hall. "That's Donkey Guest."

"Donkey Guest doesn't care whether it's day or night, spending most of its time resting."

"Even if discovered, it doesn't matter. It'll merely stuff you into a beast hide, keeping your consciousness intact. So long as Donkey Guest falls asleep, escaping becomes trivial."

Donkey Guest, as it appeared, resembled a grotesque mass barely approximating human form.

This gargantuan blood-and-meat pile lay flat across the main hall, wrapped entirely in animal hides adorned with crude stitching.

The Creation Book trembled faintly, releasing fragmented memories.

"Bat Beast."

Bat Beast was an Exotic Beast once ridden out during missions by the Heavenly Sword Sect, its form akin to marine rays.

If correct, Donkey Guest was likely once Elder Qu Zhi from the sect's Beast Control Hall.