A Loose Cultivator's Path to Longevity

Just as Lü Zhong was lost in thought, the Ghost Bride stepped onto the ceremonial platform.

At that moment, something monstrous occurred!

First, her wedding dress began to tear. Then, the hem of the skirt turned viscous, like blood, and started dripping onto the floor. The floorboards were slowly stained red as a ferocious aura instantly emerged.

At the same time, the temperature in the courtyard plummeted.

Before long, a layer of white frost had formed on the flagstones.

Witnessing this horrifying transformation, the Sword Cultivator’s expression grew complex. A hint of pity warred with his resolve, but his gaze soon hardened. Even if it cost him his life, he had to eliminate this menace with his own hands.

But just as he steeled his resolve, he happened to glance aside and was stunned to see Lü Zhong watching the scene with the expression of a spectator at a play.

’Is this junior truly not afraid of death, or... does he have a protective Magical Treasure from an elder?’

While the Sword Cultivator was reeling in shock and suspicion, the Ghost Bride on the platform suddenly moved.

Lü Zhong was settling in to watch the show when he felt something fall into his lap. It had the texture of silk.

He looked down at the object in his lap and said in surprise, ”A large red flower?”

Although the flower was bizarre—impossibly red and sticky to the touch, as if soaked in blood—it was undeniably the symbol of the groom.

Lü Zhong instantly understood. He had just become the groom!

’Well, so much for being a spectator. It seems I’ve become part of the show.’

Almost simultaneously, a staggering wave of malice washed over him.

Tendrils of black hair descended upon him. The moment they touched Lü Zhong, they writhed as if alive, desperately trying to burrow into his flesh. But the horror didn’t stop there. A woman’s whisper tickled his ear, at first a playful murmur, but it quickly twisted into a deadly, spectral wail.

”In such a hurry?” Lü Zhong said with a sigh of resignation.

He had been curious to see how the ”consummation” part of the ceremony would play out, but he hadn’t expected the climax to arrive so soon. The bloody wedding was underway, and he was the opening act.

The Ghost Cultivator was finally showing her hand!

’Fine. There’s no need to waste an Incarnation just to satisfy my curiosity. Now that I’ve seen the performance, it’s time to intervene before someone actually gets killed.’

Just as Lü Zhong began to channel the Magical Power from his main body, preparing to shatter the Ghost Cultivator’s Illusion Realm with a Thunder Skill,

the Sword Cultivator beside him beat him to it. Enveloped in a golden glow, he faced the Ghost Bride, who had materialized behind the groom. As her slender, pale hand reached out to rip out Lü Zhong’s heart, the Sword Cultivator swung his blade, unleashing a vicious slash of Sword Light.

”AHH!” With a shriek, the ghostly hand shot back.

The Ghost Bride shot a venomous glare at the Sword Cultivator, heavily wounded by his attack. Her once life-like hand now bore a deep gash from which black smoke billowed. It could no longer maintain its human appearance, twisting into a ghastly, pale-white claw.

”AAAAHHH!” she shrieked, her voice piercing.

With a burst of Yin Qi, the Ghost Bride’s cascading black hair shot out, as rigid as needles.

In the next instant, the Sword Cultivator felt something entangle him. He looked down to see he was bound by countless strands of black hair, his movements suddenly becoming sluggish. A pale hand had appeared at his neck, its blood-red, razor-sharp fingernails digging viciously downward.

A vicious glint flashed in the Sword Cultivator’s eyes.

Even in death, he would take this monster with him!

Without a moment’s hesitation, the Sword Cultivator recalled his Magical Treasure Flying Sword. Reversing his grip on the hilt, he prepared to drive it through his own chest to pin the Ghost Bride behind him.

He had three Yang Thunder Pearls prepared—items that were the ultimate counter to Ghost Cultivators. At this range, she stood no chance of survival.

With a sickening SQUELCH, the longsword impaled them both.

’It’s finally over.’

A look of release filled the Sword Cultivator’s eyes.

His real name was Chu Xun, a cultivator of the Chu Sword Sect from Weijiang Prefecture, on the Western Border of the Northern Mountain region. He once had a family of his own, a happy one.

Under the rigid hierarchy of Central Earth, for a cultivator born into a Side Branch with Three Spirit Roots, reaching the Core Formation stage was the absolute limit of his potential.

Thus, he had poured all his hopes into his young daughter, Chu Lin. It wasn’t that he expected her to achieve a great breakthrough and elevate the Weijiang Chu Family into a Noble Family with a Nascent Soul ancestor.

It was simply love; after all, she was his only child.

But fate is fickle. The sudden outbreak of the Soul Loss Syndrome and the subsequent rise of the Ghost Cultivators shattered the old order.

At first, Chu Xun had secretly rejoiced, thinking this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, a chance for him to finally rise in station.

He never imagined that Chu Lin would later be abducted by Ghost Cultivators.

When she reappeared, she had become the Ghost Bride.

”Lin’Er, Daddy will set you free now!”

Chu Xun took out the three Yang Thunder Pearls, preparing to detonate them. He had no intention of surviving this. Besides, if father and daughter were to walk the road to the Yellow Springs, at least they would have each other for company.

Just then, his consciousness suddenly blurred.

When Chu Xun came to his senses, he saw a brilliant flash of lightning.

With a single move, Lü Zhong had shattered the Ghost Cultivator’s Illusion Realm. The surrounding scenery instantly reverted to normal. Unbeknownst to them, everyone had been gathered in a barren field. Serene moonlight washed down like water, erasing any trace of the former, Ghost Qi-laden gloom.

The crowd awoke as if from a dream, momentarily confused about what had just occurred.

Only the family leaders, like Wu Renxun and Lin Ying, understood what had happened—that they had been targeted by an immensely powerful Ghost Cultivator and dragged into an Illusion Realm.

They were lucky to have survived.

A cold sweat broke out on each of them at the thought.

A short distance from the crowd, Lü Zhong stood beside a charred figure. He casually cast a Sunlight Skill, using its glow to examine the object in his hand. It was the Magical Treasure the Ghost Cultivator had just been using.

The treasure radiated an ominous air. It was shaped like a red dressing comb, apparently crafted from some kind of bone. Its surface was covered in blood-red Runes, and caked blood clots were stuck between its teeth. It emanated a thick, cold aura, clearly having been tempered with Yin Qi.