An Unexpected Figure

This was a mannequin art gallery, decorated in a minimalist, fashionable style that nonetheless bespoke immense expense. Meeting the eye were mannequins of every description: cute, charming young girls, mature and seductive women, young men in sharp suits and leather shoes, and elderly men leaning on walking sticks. Shelves along the walls displayed numerous mannequin-related products. Beneath a spiral staircase sat cardboard boxes storing mannequin body blanks, with severed limbs piled directly atop the containers. These mannequins were exquisite and elegant, their facial features lifelike yet exuding an indescribable, eerie gloom. They all faced the same direction, their hollow gazes converging on a single spot. If an ordinary person stumbled into an art gallery like this at night, they would surely piss their pants on the spot. Across the mirror-bright marble floor tiles lay an old, tattered quilt. The quilt was massive, capable of accommodating over a dozen people, and covered nearly half the gallery. Nine human silhouettes bulged beneath its surface. In the center was Fu Qingyang, with Elder Gao Feng to his left and Elder Hongying to his right. On Elder Gao Feng's side were Gaoshan Liushui, Good Minister Chooses His Master to Slay, and another male deacon—three men in total. On Elder Hongying's side were Yin Ji, Natsuki's Love, and Yu, three female Saints. Fu Qingyang lifted his head slightly, the quilt over his brow casting a shadow across his face. His gaze swept calmly across the mannequin gallery as he spoke: "Elder Gao Feng, has your lower body recovered?" The dark-skinned, gaunt Elder Gao Feng raised his head and shook it with a solemn expression. "Not yet, but the curse's power has begun to weaken. Elder Hongying, what about your chest?" Elder Hongying replied coldly, "None of your concern." The official team had run into a dire crisis. After Ghost City revived, the official spirit walkers had initially intended to wait out the storm, meeting all shifts with steadfast composure. Instead, they were greeted by the supernatural horrors inside the shops awakening one after another, pouring out into the streets to besiege the living who had trespassed into the city, ravenous for their vitality. At the critical moment, Fu Qingyang had deduced a solution: actively enter the shops. The supernatural entities of Ghost City possessed a fierce territorial instinct—or rather, a rule—preventing them from encroaching upon the establishments of their fellow entities. Thus, as long as they cleared their way from shop to shop, they could avoid being devoured by the city's spectral horde. Yet this was drinking poison to quench a thirst. A demigod-level artifact was not something they could ever clear to the end, not even with thirty lives to spare. Still, they had held out through the night. Cloaked in the Swordsman Cloak, Fu Qingyang's attacks were peerlessly sharp; Elder Hongying possessed an innate suppressive edge over wraiths and yin corpses; and Elder Gao Feng's defenses served as a reliable bulwark for everyone. But inside this mannequin gallery, they finally reached their limit. There were no terrifying specters here, only mannequins arranged in disarray. The danger stemmed precisely from the figures themselves; the instant the official team stepped across the threshold, the mannequins locked onto them. Then a terrible crisis befell them. Everyone, Elder Hongying included, began to mutate, their flesh transforming into mannequin blanks. Elder Gao Feng's lower body turned into a mannequin, Elder Hongying's chest was transformed, Yin Ji's hips altered, Yu's back changed... Portions of everyone's bodies were reduced to blank mannequins. It was a horrific curse—one of at least peak Dominator grade. Its tier surpassed all three Dominators present. At the crucial juncture, Elder Gao Feng pulled out a tattered quilt and bellowed, "Get under the covers, quick!" Only then were they saved. Earth Monster profession, Dominator-grade rule-based item—Coward's Quilt! The quilt could withstand any attack in the world; not even a demigod could destroy it through brute force. This rule-based item carried three costs: First was poverty. The item's bearer was forever parted from wealth; any fortune given to them by anyone in any form would inevitably slip away in the end. Second was duration. Each time the quilt was unfurled, it could only be lifted once the mandated duration had elapsed. The duration was four hours. If one failed to leave the quilt after four hours, they would be sealed within it for all eternity until death. During this time, those sheltered under the quilt were incapable of performing any actions. Third was cowardice. Once under the quilt's protection, one inevitably succumbed to terror. Elder Hongying turned her head, gazing at Money Prince's sculpted, flawless profile. "Does 'refusing to come out even if it kills us' mean being sealed under the quilt at least lets us die with elegance? We've been hiding under here for three and a half hours already." Elder Gao Feng sighed. "If you want to die with elegance, choosing to become a mannequin wouldn't be half bad. Look at those mannequins—how elegant they are." Fu Qingyang said calmly, "No, dying under the quilt is far more elegant. The three protectors of Dark Night Rose are waiting for us to make our choice. If we choose to become mannequins, we'll end up as stag heads mounted on their walls, elephant tusks set on their shelves—mere collectibles. That would be profoundly undignified." The Saints were beside themselves with anxiety and terror. They wondered what kind of dire hour this was for the elders to still have the leisure to chat. The countdown on their lives was nearing its end. When facing matters of life and death, the psychological fortitude of Saints lagged far behind that of Dominators. When Ghost City first revived, the Saints hadn't panicked in the slightest, supremely confident that the Grand Marshal would come to their rescue, steady as an old dog. When clearing the haunted shops along the street, the Saints hadn't panicked either, trusting that the Grand Marshal would arrive sooner or later. Yet after hiding under the quilt for three and a half hours, sheer panic gripped their hearts. There was no time left. They had only half an hour of life remaining, and the Grand Marshal still seemed to be riding hard on her way. "I... I shouldn't have agreed to Yuanshi Tianzun's request," the little fatty stammered, his voice trembling. "What does Sect Leader Chunyang have to do with me? I was doing great delivering takeout, rank one in performance! I shouldn't have gotten involved in this mess." Yin Ji raised her head and peered past several others toward the little fatty. "The one who dragged you into this wasn't Yuanshi Tianzun, but the elders of your Southern Branch. And they seem to have fled long ago." How could two experienced Dominator-grade illusionists perish simultaneously? In all likelihood, they had sensed Ghost City's presence ahead of time and slipped away in advance. Though they hadn't slain Sect Leader Chunyang, managing to entrap three official Dominators to their deaths was a bargain by any metric. As for Good Minister Chooses His Master to Slay—a mere Saint—discarding him was of no consequence. The little fatty fell silent. The others had no heart to join the discussion either. Deacon Yu's face was pale as though facing doomsday. Natsuki's Love wore a bitter expression, and the male deacons looked equally despondent, like condemned prisoners marching to the execution ground. Just then, a faint dark-red glimmer darted in from outside the shop. It was a pair of brand-new, exquisite little dancing shoes. The shoes came pattering into the shop, heading straight for Fu Qingyang. Without a word, they began kicking furiously through the quilt. *Thud, thud, thud...* Dull thumps echoed through the shop. Every kick was delivered with full force, as though the shoes harbored an irreconcilable blood feud with Fu Qingyang. Yet the assault did not even amount to scratching an itch through a boot. "This is..." Deacon Yu, pale and terrified just moments ago, saw her almond eyes suddenly light up. Yin Ji's breath caught. "Yuanshi Tianzun's Red Dancing Shoes!" Everyone's eyes ignited with hope, including the three Dominators. These were Yuanshi Tianzun's Red Dancing Shoes; he had used them during the arena matches. "Yuanshi Tianzun is here!" Natsuki's Love's brow smoothed over, her voice ringing with excitement. At the brink of despair, that youth, radiant as the sun, had shone into their hearts. *** "Enough, enough! These yin corpses and spirit servants are enough to last me until the Dominator stage. Thank you, Cousin!" The youth radiant as the sun was busy bowing profusely, even addressing her as "Cousin." On the dim, long street, outside a shop named "Ghost Guerrilla," Zhang Yuanqing had just acquired his ninth yin corpse. After the Grand Marshal helped him seal it, he produced Little Red Riding Hood and stored the young boy yin corpse inside. During ten-odd minutes of scouring, they had gathered a total of nine yin corpses and six wraiths. Most were Level 4 or Level 5; there were only two Level 6 yin corpses and a single Level 6 wraith. These would remain sealed for a long time until Zhang Yuanqing brought his experience bar up to peak Level 6. With his current reserves of lunar energy, it was difficult to nurture and command additional yin creatures of the same level unless he focused entirely on the Lunar path. Regardless, Level 6 combat strength was sufficient for now; biting off more than he could chew would only choke him. Besides, what Zhang Yuanqing needed most at present were lower-level yin creatures to serve as cannon fodder. High-end combat strength was necessary, but low-end expendables could not be lacking either. Seeing Guan Ya's boyfriend stow away the yin creature, Fu Qingxuan said leisurely, "Time to go pick up the trash, and dispose of those three rats while we're at it." With that, she reached out and pressed a hand against Zhang Yuanqing's shoulder. *Wait, why didn't she turn on the navigation this time?* Zhang Yuanqing complained inwardly. The next second, he once again experienced the agony of a steel blade scraping across his hairline. Fortunately, the torment lasted only two or three seconds before his feet touched solid ground again. He found himself outside a mannequin gallery. The front doors stood wide open, and inside, the mirror-bright showroom was packed with realistic—no, not just realistic, but lifelike—mannequins. Following their eerie, hollow gazes, Zhang Yuanqing looked toward the tattered quilt spread across the floor tiles. Nine people lay side by side on their stomachs, covered by a dark blue ragged quilt with only their heads poking out. They looked remarkably like servants sleeping side by side on a large kang bed in some grand mansion of the old Northeast. *A tattered quilt? The Coward's Quilt that Natsuki's Love mentioned in the Sea of Yashan—was she referring to this rule-based item of Elder Gao Feng's? Pfft, their current posture has completely stripped them of any dignity...* Breathing a sigh of relief, Zhang Yuanqing found the scene indescribably comical. Just as Zhang Yuanqing spotted them, Fu Qingyang and the others, who had their heads lifted toward the entrance, also saw Yuanshi Tianzun and the Grand Marshal. Without a shred of hesitation, Zhang Yuanqing relied on hand speed honed by years of bachelorhood to whip out his phone and launch the camera. *Click!* The flash flared briefly, freezing the nine stiff, stunned expressions onto the screen. Zhang Yuanqing pocketed his phone and acted as if nothing had happened, speaking in a grave tone: "Everyone, the Grand Marshal has come to save you." The three Dominators and six Saints beamed with the delight and excitement of surviving a catastrophe, and then, in unison, glanced toward the trouser pocket where Yuanshi Tianzun had tucked his phone. By then, Fu Qingxuan had finished scanning the mannequin gallery. Discerning the danger within, she stepped over the threshold, held her fingers together like a sword, and swept her arm across. Over a dozen exquisite mannequins were sheared clean in half at the waist, their severed torsos crashing to the floor with a clattering racket. "You are safe," she said calmly. The empress was cold and imposing, as though she had merely tended to a trivial chore. Elder Gao Feng immediately scrambled to his feet, threw back the thick, tattered quilt, and stored the rule-based item into his inventory. "Greetings, Grand Marshal! Thank you for saving our lives." The three elders bowed in salute. Throughout all this, the Red Dancing Shoes tirelessly kicked Fu Qingyang, dead set on ending his life. The Saints bowed in trepidation, hardly daring to breathe. Before the supreme leader of the alliance, humility and deference were postures that had to be displayed. None of them were like Yuanshi Tianzun, who stood beside the Grand Marshal without the slightest restraint or tension—truly worthy of a legendary figure born unruly, with rebellion written into his very bones. "No need to thank me. It was Yuanshi Tianzun who pinpointed your location; only then could I enter." The female Grand Marshal raised a hand. The group was surprised. They had not expected Yuanshi Tianzun to play such a pivotal role, and their gazes toward him grew increasingly grateful. Elder Hongying and Elder Gao Feng nodded in thanks toward Zhang Yuanqing. Zhang Yuanqing returned a gentlemanly smile to Yin Ji and Natsuki's Love. Having spoken, Fu Qingxuan turned to leave the shop, but her gaze suddenly locked onto Fu Qingyang's cloak. "Let me have a look at that." As the world's strongest Scout, she recognized at a single glance that this was a rare treasure of her own profession. Just as Fu Qingyang was about to refuse, an immense force ripped the cloak from behind him, sending it fluttering through the air into the Grand Marshal's hand. Fu Qingxuan caught the cloak, scrutinized it for a few seconds, and her pale green heterochromatic eyes flared with brilliant radiance. It was the first time Zhang Yuanqing had ever seen her look excited. In contrast, as excited as the older sister was, the younger brother was equally distressed. "Where did you get this item? It's wasted on you. Give it to me," Fu Qingxuan said. "Shameless," Fu Qingyang said, veins bulging on his forehead, looking just like Prince Shou, Li Mao, whose wife had been stolen by his imperial father. *Right, right! That cloak is the boss's prized possession. Grand Marshal, how does your conduct differ from Li Longji stealing his son's bride?* Zhang Yuanqing wanted to speak up for his boss, but considering his humble station and light words, he could only watch the show. Elder Gao Feng and Elder Hongying kept their eyes fixed on their noses and their noses over their hearts. An older sister snatching her younger brother's toy was purely a Fu family affair. "Don't be so stingy. I saved your life; giving me an item as compensation is entirely reasonable... Fine, fine, lend it to me for a few days, alright?" Seeing her little brother looking ready to wage fratricidal warfare at all costs, Fu Qingxuan reluctantly conceded a step. She draped the cloak over her shoulders. "A forty percent amplification... I can try out that sword technique I created." With that, she retrieved a bronze sword from her inventory, let it hover in midair, and lightly flicked the spine of the blade with a slender, jade-like finger. The golden cloud patterns on the cloak emitted a faint radiance. *Clang!* The bronze sword let out a crisp dragon's roar and split off two identical swords. A flicker of joy crossed Fu Qingxuan's aloof face. She had researched this sword technique for a long time, but had never succeeded; her ideal state was to produce two splitting streams of sword qi, each possessing the full might of the original. Yet even in her peak condition, she had only ever managed to split a single stream. This cloak instantly elevated her sword art by an entire tier. Had she worn this cloak last night, she would have already severed the Fear Heavenly King's head. "Go!" The three bronze swords wove through the air and whistled out into the distance. A few seconds later, the crowd inside the gallery heard several bloodcurdling screams ring out from the darkness. Shortly after, the three flying swords returned, carrying three corpses impaled upon them, and hovered outside the gallery. Fu Qingxuan waved her hand. Two of the bronze swords dissolved, and the corpses skewered upon them hit the ground with wet thuds. She then reclaimed the final bronze sword. All three corpses were clad in cloaks—none other than the three protectors of Dark Night Rose. Dominator-grade powerhouses had been reaped like chives. "Dark Night Rose possesses the Chu clan's Mother Goddess's Womb. These three will revive in the Northwest. Remember their faces; we'll issue wanted notices later." Fu Qingxuan waved her hand, knocking off the three Dominators' hoods from a distance. Beneath the hoods were a white-haired old man, a gloomy-faced middle-aged man, and an ordinary-looking middle-aged woman. Zhang Yuanqing carefully scanned their faces, but found no matching figures in his memory. Suddenly, an exclamation of disbelief came from Elder Hongying behind him: "Elder Shanhe Yongcun?!"