# 310. Immortal Form
Daoist Jinlian spared no further glance. As he landed, he kicked back Hengyuan, who was about to turn around to help, and shouted, “Chu Yuanzhen, take Hengyuan and go!
"The rest of you, evacuate the main tomb immediately."
With that, he turned and whipped up a gust of wind, repelling the oncoming spears. These weapons, infused with an eerie aura, shattered upon impact, the malevolent energy gnawing at Daoist Jinlian’s body.
His face suddenly went pale, and his flesh-and-blood body nearly transformed into a spectral entity on the spot.
Taking advantage of this opening, the Houtu Gang members, along with Chu Yuanzhen and Zhong Li, escaped from the main tomb. Hengyuan, whose meridians had been forcefully sealed by Chu Yuanzhen in a surprise attack, was forcibly taken along.
Daoist Jinlian no longer lingered in battle. With a flicker of his shadow, he vanished instantly.
Bang!
The stone doors of the main tomb slammed shut.
...
“You are not my Lord—how dare you seize my Lord’s fate?”
The corpse in the yellow robe raised both arms, lifting Xu Qi’an high into the air, exhaling a dense, deathly breath from its dark, purplish mouth.
The temperature in the tomb plummeted; frost crept over the platform and stone steps. Amid the crackling sounds, the puddles along the corridor froze solid.
A golden lustre appeared on Xu Qi’an's brow, quickly spreading across his face and trickling down. But his neck, clutched tightly by the corpse, blocked the golden hue, preventing it from covering his body and activating his Indestructible Vajra Body.
“Lowly ant! You dare steal my Lord’s fate? I will make sure you suffer for eternity—consume your flesh, gnaw your bones, and suppress your soul here in this tomb.
“Lifetime after lifetime, you shall know only torment!”
The corpse’s anger surged, its mouth suddenly gaping wide, splitting at the corners to reveal rows of sharp, jagged fangs. It lunged at Xu Qi’an's neck.
Clang!
The sound of iron meeting steel reverberated as teeth that could easily shatter forged metal failed to pierce Xu Qi’an’s flesh. Somehow, the golden lustre had managed to break past the corpse’s grip and spread over his neck, turning it a radiant, golden hue.
The golden gleam surged, covering Xu Qi’an from head to toe.
A resplendent, deity-like golden figure emerged, illuminating every corner of the main tomb.
It was as if a god had descended.
“Lowly monster… you dare to show such impudence in front of this monk!”
The voice began as Xu Qi’an's but morphed halfway, distinctly belonging to someone else.
Like a heavenly avatar, Xu Qi’an stretched out his hand and slowly pried open the corpse’s fingers, not with brute force but with an almost deliberate, intimidating slowness.
The corpse’s arms trembled; despite its formidable strength, it was unable to match his.
Clang!
Its other hand shot toward Xu Qi’an's chest, but it, too, failed to breach the golden body’s defense. The corpse clenched its fist, shifting from a thrust to a blow. In a deafening explosion of power, it sent Xu Qi’an flying.
“Roar…”
The corpse’s mouth widened, transforming into a cavernous, insatiable vortex. Four corpses stationed at the platform's corners were sucked into the bloodthirsty maw, tripping over each other as they were devoured.
Then came the ranks of ghostly soldiers on the steps, each yanked into the mouth, whether willing or not.
With resounding crunches, the corpse's body expanded, its blackened claws extending, and dried, wasted flesh began to swell. Jagged armour-like chitin emerged, encasing it entirely.
Dark green spines erupted from its head.
The corpse, now transformed into a massive, ten-foot-tall humanoid monster, stood atop the platform, raising its head to gaze at the dazzling figure hovering in mid-air. Its gravelly voice resounded:
“A puny insect, how could you seize my Lord’s fate… it turns out you harbour a martial artist’s soul inside you. It seems I’ve slumbered for too long, that such a powerful body could appear in this era.”
“It’s a Buddhist Golden Body,” Monk Shenshu responded.
“Buddhist?” The creature tilted its head, its fierce gaze scrutinising the golden form.
“Oh, you don’t know of Buddhism. It seems your existence is from an age far too ancient,” Shenshu replied coolly. “As it happens, I detest them.”
A wave of golden energy burst forth mid-air as he plummeted down like a meteor.
Boom!
Their palms clashed on the platform, and the ancient structure—standing for countless eons—cracked, one fissure after another snaking outward.
Finally, with a resounding crash, it collapsed.
The golden figure and the corpse plummeted together. The corpse headbutted the golden figure’s brow, sending sparks of golden light scattering and leaving it momentarily dazed.
Boom, boom, boom!
The corpse struck with such speed that its fists blurred, continuously hammering Xu Qi’an’s chest and forehead, producing an explosion of golden fragments.
Xu Qi’an clenched the corpse’s wrists, his voice wincing. “Ouch… Ouch! Owwww! Master…”
Then, in a self-assured tone, he continued, “Hmm, this spectre is formidable indeed. Now, I shall counterattack…”
As soon as he finished, the corpse launched a kick, sending him flying upward.
The golden glow streaked far away, colliding with the tomb’s ceiling with a thunderous crash, dislodging chunks of stone that crumbled and fell.
The corpse, standing amid the rubble, looked up at the ceiling, its knees bending in a stance of gathering force.
Whoosh!
A piercing whistle filled the air as a golden meteor once again hurtled down.
Prepared this time, the corpse punched skyward, meeting the descending golden figure.
In the stillness that followed, shattered stone and murky water surged upwards. Shockwaves rippled outward, battering the walls of the tomb, creating fractures from which boulders tumbled.
The corpse’s feet sunk deep into the ground. The golden figure seized the opportunity to strike, hammering it into the stone below.
“Master, take its head off!” Xu Qi’an shouted.
The golden form was about to advance when the corpse’s gaping maw twisted, forming a vortex that devoured all in its path.
The golden lustre dimmed, siphoned by the swirling darkness.
In such a dire situation, the golden figure summoned the black-gold sabre from the murky water, striking the corpse on the side of its face with a metallic clang, causing its head to wobble.
Seizing the opening, the golden figure escaped the vortex’s pull and delivered a sweeping kick to the back of the creature’s head, shattering the bone-like scales there in a spray of golden fragments.
Bang, bang, bang!
A flurry of flying kicks struck the back of the zombie’s skull in quick succession, bursting into shockwaves as the chitinous armour shattered and splintered.
At that moment, Xu Qi'an sensed a vision flash through his mind: an ancient, rusted sword rising from the murky water, aiming to stab him in the back.
Without a second thought, he retracted his kick and rolled to the side.
A sharp whistle rang out, and the ancient sword, missing its mark, was now clutched in the zombie’s hand. Though still corroded and worn, it radiated an aura of deathly energy that made the golden glow between Xu Qi'an’s brows pulsate in alarm.
“This is my Lord’s artifact,” the zombie rasped, voice low and hoarse. “It has absorbed the Yin energy of this tomb for countless years—perfect for shattering your powerful Yang-protective art.”
As he spoke, strands of blackened Yin energy seeped from the putrid water, pooling into his body to restore the shattered chitin.
*What do we do? The tomb was built atop a feng-shui confluence, effectively forming a natural formation that gave the zombie an overwhelming advantage…* While the monk Shenshu controlled his body, Xu Qi’an’s mind remained alert, instinctively analysing the enemy’s weaknesses.
He pondered how he might handle such a creature if it were just him.
With palms pressed together, Shenshu’s voice rang out, calm and compassionate: “Lay down your butcher’s knife; turn your head and see the shore.”[^1]
The voice bore an irresistible power; the zombie’s grip on the sword began to falter as if it could no longer hold the weapon steady. Both hands now clutched the hilt, arms trembling.
Seizing the pause, the golden form rose into the air, hovering above the zombie. His hands flew through a rapid series of formations.
A “卍”[^2] symbol, full of metallic energy, formed above the golden figure’s head, joined by more that spread out in a circular array, with the shining golden body at its centre.
The golden figure closed its eyes, hands still weaving, moving so quickly they left afterimages.
The “卍” symbols shone brighter, emitting a searing golden radiance that illuminated every corner of the burial chamber with a brilliant golden halo.
Then, the movements ceased, hands pressed together in a final seal.
Boom!
The air rumbled with a heavy shockwave as a golden pillar of light shot from the array, enveloping the yellow-robed zombie.
Hisss...
Black smoke rose as if water had been poured onto hot oil, and the creature shrieked in agony within the searing light.
As the golden light faded, Shenshu's serene voice echoed, “Forsake wrath, forsake anger, lay down your arms.”
The light dispersed, leaving the zombie’s body scorched, its chitin cracked, revealing dark, necrotic flesh.
But he showed no trace of anger or intent to kill, feeling only an inexplicable urge to make peace and resolve matters amicably.
Shenshu, however, had no such inclination. Descending from the sky, he delivered a devastating palm strike to the zombie’s head.
His palm slammed down with a loud blast, obliterating the chitin, exposing the blackened, pulsating brain beneath.
In that instant, clarity returned to the zombie’s eyes, breaking free of the binding force. With a harsh grinding sound, his skull regenerated at a tremendous rate, his hand closing around the bronze sword as it burst from the murky water.
The blade flashed upward.
Thud... The ancient bronze sword, said to be his Lord’s, easily pierced Shenshu’s indestructible golden body, leaving a deep wound in his chest.
But the blood that flowed wasn’t golden or red—it was pitch-black, inky as night.
*I’ve been poisoned?!* Xu Qi'an’s heart sank, as he felt waves of dizziness cloud his mind.
The two powerful forms clashed furiously within the echoing tomb, rubble cascading, and waves of dirty water roiling. The entire tomb quaked and trembled from the force of their combat.
Throughout the battle, Shenshu depleted the zombie’s Yin energy with Buddhist incantations, while the zombie wielded the bronze sword to corrode Shenshu’s golden body.
The difference lay in that this was the zombie’s domain—a tomb steeped in dense Yin energy—while Shenshu, unable to draw power from his surroundings, fought like a castle built on sand.
“You cannot defeat me. Why don’t you just flee?” The zombie stabbed his sword deep into the golden figure’s chest, his voice booming like thunder.
“As you have awakened, if you do not die, every living creature nearby will suffer,” replied Shenshu.
“I don’t wish to destroy this tomb. Return the Lord’s fate to me, and I shall let you all go.”
“It cannot be returned,” Shenshu replied with a hint of regret.
“Then go to hell!”
Just as the zombie moved to obliterate his opponent’s internal organs, a drumming sound reverberated through the tomb.
Boom, boom. Boom, boom. Boom, boom!
The drumming grew louder, faster, faster…
The zombie suddenly felt his arm trembling—it was the other’s heartbeat, pounding fiercely.
When the heartbeat reached a feverish pitch, a flame-like demonic mark ignited between Xu Qi'an’s brows, engulfed by jet-black flames.
His body began to swell, his healthy bronze skin darkening to an ominous black, with bulging veins that looked ready to tear through his flesh.
In mere seconds, he transformed from a man into a monster.
The monster stretched, his body creaking, his face tilting back in pure satisfaction. “Ahhh... this feels good...”
He raised his blackened hand, effortlessly crushing the sword.
*Fuck, I almost forgot about Shenshu’s true form...* thought Xu Qi'an with a shiver.
For so long, Shenshu had appeared to him as a gentle monk, and he had almost forgotten the demon-like figure that had taken over Henghui—the memory of that ghastly, blackened, severed hand filled with evil and horror.
“To tell the truth, I hate revealing my immortal form. It consumes too much energy, forcing me to constantly feed on the blood and flesh of living beings to sustain myself. But I detest slaughter—absolutely detest it.”
Shenshu’s voice was calm, cold, his gaze piercing the zombie with the indifference of an ancient monarch reborn—cold, confident, and utterly disdainful.
“What sort of person are you? No, what sort of monster are you?” the zombie roared, trembling with visible fear, his tone barely masking his terror.
Shenshu’s response was a steady hand that descended toward the zombie’s head, pressing down with unstoppable force.
The zombie recoiled, unwilling to accept his fate without a fight.
But Shenshu seemed to ignore the distance, his hand moving slowly but inexorably, pressing onto the zombie’s head, exerting a silent power.
Boom!
With a muffled explosion of Qi, the corpse’s eyes went blank. Its malevolent form collapsed limply, as though its bones could no longer support it, and it crumbled helplessly to the ground.
“Lord… I… I can’t wait for you any longer…” it muttered, voice thick with reluctance.
Monk Shenshu pressed a drop of blood from his fingertip and leaned down to trace a reverse sauwastika on the corpse’s forehead.
A golden light flashed briefly and then settled deep into the corpse’s body, sealing it from any chance of movement.
Sensing the change within, the corpse, now fully aware of its entrapment, looked blankly before asking in a low, angry voice, “Why don’t you kill me?”
Monk Shenshu, no longer able to sustain his indestructible form, allowed the fiery mark to dissipate, his darkened skin fading back to the form of Xu Qi’an.
The whole transformation had taken only a few seconds.
With calm benevolence, Monk Shenshu said, “Killing you would be no challenge; you’re merely an abandoned husk.
“Who is your Lord?”
…
They fled the burial chamber, passing through corridors and returning to the labyrinth.
Hearing no sounds of vengeful spirits behind them, the group felt a palpable relief. Chu Yuanzhen solemnly unlocked Hengyuan from his entrapment.
Thud!
The burly monk’s fist, like a sledgehammer, crashed into Chu Yuanzhen’s face. Without a word, he turned to head back toward the main tomb.
Daoist Jinlian stopped him, voice heavy. “You’re going back to die?”
Hengyuan’s face was expressionless as he quietly replied, “Move aside!”
Jinlian’s complexion was ashen, his gaze cloudy, clearly in a disturbed state. He shook his head, saying, “We’re already in the labyrinth; you can’t find your way back.”
Hengyuan clenched his fist, veins bulging on his hand, his voice tight. “Why did you drag me out here? I owed him my life; I owed him my life…”
His voice, once heavy with bitterness, broke into a sob.
No one had anticipated that the stoic warrior monk would suddenly tear up.
“Daoist, you shouldn’t have brought him here.” Hengyuan shook his head slowly.
“When we joined the Heaven and Earth Society, we vowed to help each other. But this had nothing to do with Sir Xu; he wasn’t one of us. You had no right to involve him.
“He’s always been like this, in every crisis, always thinking of others before himself, sacrificing himself for others. But you can’t take his kindness as some sort of obligation.
“Now that Number Five is found, not a single member of the Heaven and Earth Society is missing. But what face do we have to go back with?
“Daoist Jinlian, I’m so deeply, deeply disappointed in you.”
In the capital, when Hengyuan had learned through the fragments of the Book of the Earth that Xu Qi’an had fallen in Yunzhou, he had crushed the prayer beads that had accompanied him for years as he meditated.
But that was a matter far away, and beyond sorrow, he could do nothing.
This time was different. He had been part of the mission, he had witnessed everyone abandoning Xu Qi’an, and a wave of grief and fury overwhelmed him.
It made Hengyuan question his sense of self and his comrades.
Daoist Jinlian hesitated, wanting to explain. Yet as he thought of the way Xu Qi’an had pushed him back with a final shove, he held his silence.
Chu Yuanzhen watched the argument between the two, dejected and listless, looking nothing like that gallant swordsman in azure. He seemed more a defeated stray.
The image of Xu Qi’an staying back in the tomb to cover their escape replayed in his mind.
Though he had not known Xu Qi’an for long, he had come to admire the Silver Gong. Before they had even met, he had heard much about him from within the Heaven and Earth Society’s messages.
Hengyuan described him as a man of great kindness; Number One said he was a lover of women, and Li Miaozhen spoke of him as a man who overlooked the small and held to the grand, a true knight.
But to Chu Yuanzhen, Xu Qi’an was a friend worth having—someone of worthy character and conviction.
For a person like that to have stayed behind to save everyone, putting duty above all else—this was just like something he would do. How were they ever going to answer to Number Three… Chu Yuanzhen’s eyes burned, his vision growing blurry.
“He saved my life. I told myself I would repay him…” Hengyuan’s face twisted, his voice a guttural mutter, “What right do I have to go on living? What right do I have to go on living…”
“This isn’t good—his Buddhist heart is fracturing.” Daoist Jinlian’s face changed as he pressed his fingers to Hengyuan’s brow, soothing his turbulent mind and helping him find peace.
Hengyuan’s gaze cleared somewhat as he shoved Daoist Jinlian’s hand away roughly.
“Hengyuan, things aren’t as you believe.” Daoist Jinlian’s tone was firm. “In truth, Xu Qi’an, he is—”
He was about to reveal that Xu Ningyan was Number Three, a fellow holder of the Book of the Earth fragment and a member of the Heaven and Earth Society.
At that moment, the entire underground palace began to quake, rocks crashing down from the vaulted ceiling.
Daoist Jinlian’s voice abruptly ceased, and he looked up with a frown. “The tomb is collapsing.”
For some unknown reason, the entire structure seemed on the verge of destruction.
Zhong Li suddenly said, “The tomb’s mechanisms have failed. The formations are breaking down… We… we can leave…”
Then, she handed the unconscious Lina to Hengyuan. “Help me carry her; take her out.”
A massive boulder tumbled down straight toward Zhong Li and Lina.
“Watch out!”
The impulse to save them overwhelmed his sorrow as Hengyuan pulled the two young women to safety, taking Number Five over his shoulder. In a low voice, he said, “Alright, I’ll get her out.”
With Zhong Li’s curse of misfortune, staying behind while the tomb collapsed would indeed be unwise.
The group fled, miraculously avoiding further disorientation. Amidst the raining debris, they made their way back to the burial chamber that connected to the tunnel.
With a sense of accomplishment, Hengyuan exhaled and halted, glancing back—only to see that Zhong Li was missing.
She… she went back… Hengyuan froze in place, his heart suddenly pierced with an excruciating sense of anguish.
---
[^1]: Both buddhist sayings. “Lay down your butcher’s knife” comes from 放下屠刀，立地成佛 *Lay down your butcher’s knife, and become a Buddha where you stand*; “turn around and see the shore” comes from 苦海无边，回头是岸 *The sea of bitterness sees no bounds, turn around and see the shore.* Both in a general sense means “repent and ye shall be saved”.
[^2]: A sauwastika. The left handed version of the right handed swastika. Swastikas are a sacred (and often representative) symbol of Buddhism, but have been used by all cultures in various forms through countless millennia (including a little angry german man who then proceeded to drag its image through the mud in much of the west). It may interest you to know that in Japan, buddhist temples are marked by Swastikas, like how churches in Britain are marked by crosses.