Chapter Sixteen: The Fall of the Way

Leaving the Taibai Restaurant, the streets were ablaze with lights.

Shaking her white jade folding fan lightly, Shangguan Chuci gazed at the profile of the young Lu Chenyuan, thoughts swirling in her mind. Suddenly, she spoke,

"Brother Lu, forgive me for my boldness."

Lu Chenyuan turned at her voice and saw Shangguan Chuci's bright eyes shimmering beneath the lanterns, fixed upon him.

She smiled, "I see that Brother Lu possesses remarkable potential, a piece of uncut jade. Such innate talent, left unguided by wise mentors and companions, would be a profound loss."

"My residence is not rich in many things, but the books in my library are truly the distilled wisdom of those who came before. Brother Lu, would you have any interest in reading them?"

At these words, Lu Chenyuan felt his heart stir with excitement.

Since childhood, he had yearned for the life of a cultivator—riding swords, roaming freely between heaven and earth. Now, hearing that such precious texts were within reach, how could he not be moved?

Yet, as he recalled the image of his master, Situ—the exquisite face, half-drunken, half-awake—and those cold words, "Do not return to see me again," the heat in his heart was doused, as if by a bucket of cold water, leaving him chilled and forlorn.

He sighed inwardly, preparing to politely decline her generous offer, when suddenly a fierce quarrel broke out nearby, drawing his attention.

He saw a crowd gathered by a stall selling cultivation wares.

A gaunt, middle-aged cultivator was clutching the oily-shirted stall owner’s sleeve, hoarse and desperate,

"You... you cheat! This is clearly fake, ordinary iron dyed to look like red-refined copper. How dare you sell it as the real thing! Give me back my hard-earned money!"

The stall owner, his face thick with flesh, showed no fear. Instead, he shoved the cultivator away, sneering,

"Don’t slander me here! Money and goods have changed hands; no returns after leaving the stall—those are the rules in Zhenhai River. Your lack of discernment isn’t my fault. Bought yourself a fake, now you’re making a scene?"

Behind him, two burly enforcers stepped up, cracking their knuckles and glaring menacingly.

The cultivator staggered from the push, his face flushed purple, eyes bloodshot, bitterness and despair in his voice,

"I sold my ancestral sword to gather this sum! It was my sole hope of breaking through to the Divine Clarity Realm! You’re cutting off my path!"

"So, you’re a master of the Fire-Wielding Realm?" The stall owner sized him up, his gaze lingering on the frost at his temples and the lines at his eyes, inwardly scoffing, "Another old wreck who’s gambled away his life, all bluster and no bite. Who is he trying to scare?"

Thinking thus, a trace of contempt twisted his fleshy face. He spat on the ground and shook his head,

"That fire of yours, is it fueled by your own lifespan? Hah, you’re middle-aged, your vitality has waned—like the setting sun, never to rise again."

"If you ask me, you’d best go home and dote on grandchildren. Pursuing immortality isn’t the business for someone halfway in the grave!"

At these words, the cultivator’s body trembled.

The last glimmer of hope in his eyes flickered out, replaced only by boundless despair and emptiness.

Just then, Lu Chenyuan felt his chest seize.

A familiar heat burned in his palm, flaring anew, and strange whispers echoed in his ears, unsettling his spirit.

"Something’s wrong!"

Alarm surged within him; he didn’t pause to think. He reached out and grabbed Shangguan Chuci’s fair wrist, his voice low,

"We must retreat at once!"

Shangguan Chuci was frowning at the unfolding drama when she suddenly felt her wrist gripped tightly. Alarmed, she turned to see Lu Chenyuan’s tense profile, eyes locked ahead.

He was holding her hand, his palm burning hot—so different from his usual calm and reserved demeanor.

She was astonished. "He’s not yet stepped onto the path of cultivation, yet his senses are so acute, even sharper than mine?"

Her expression remained composed. Not only did she not resist, she allowed herself to be pulled quickly toward the shadowed corner of the street.

At that moment, the destitute cultivator tilted his head back and let out a wail that was scarcely human.

A tangible wave of pollution burst forth from him, radiating outward!

In an instant, the warm golden glow of the lanterns grew unstable, tinged with a cold, sticky grayness.

The air filled with biting chill and the stench of blood and rust.

Next, his body convulsed grotesquely, joints cracking with horrifying snaps. Beneath his skin, countless living things seemed to surge madly, forming bulges of varying sizes.

His face was no longer human—eyes bulging, whites gone, replaced by pure black; his mouth stretched to his ears, oozing foul black saliva.

His once upright body collapsed like sludge, limbs twisting and elongating at impossible angles, membranes spreading between his fingers. With a wet pop, his back split open, revealing a pair of broken, slime-dripping flesh wings!

The townsfolk had never witnessed such a hellish sight. Panic exploded—screams erupted, people fled in terror, tables overturned, chaos reigning.

The stall owner and his two enforcers were closest. They’d seen their share of cultivators losing composure after being swindled, but always took it as a common occurrence.

But this—where mere words transformed a man into a death-dealing fiend—was like seeing ghosts in broad daylight!

Their legs went weak; they scrambled to escape, but it was too late.

The monster let out a guttural roar, leaping like an arrow, foul wind nearly knocking people off their feet!

"Fight him!" One enforcer, seeing no escape, turned savage, pouring all his spiritual power into his fists and lunging in a desperate, beast-like attack.

But the monster merely swung its misshapen right arm.

A sharp crack—before the enforcer could even scream, his body flew like a rag doll, crashing through a nearby stall, half his torso caved in, clearly beyond saving.

The other, terrified to his core, tried to turn but was caught by the monster’s other hand.

It seemed to relish the fear, not killing immediately but lifting him slowly.

A tearing sound, like rending tough fabric—the enforcer was ripped in two at the waist!

Warm blood and viscera splattered across the ground, stench rising.

The monster, apparently pleased by the carnage, brought the twitching upper half to its mouth, jaws stretched to its ears, crunching noisily, bones shattering audibly.

The stall owner watched, eyes bulging.

The fallen cultivator had been the lowest grade Fire-Wielding practitioner. Now, transformed, he was unstoppable. A wet patch spread across the stall owner’s crotch, reeking of fear.

He collapsed, legs giving out, babbling incoherently,

"Spare me… monster lord… don’t eat me…"

Shangguan Chuci, witnessing the horror, was stunned and gasped,

"It’s the death of the Dao! His Dao heart has shattered; humanity has been utterly devoured by the pollution!"

Before her words had faded, a deeper chill swept over her than anything the monster could inspire.

According to the records she’d studied, pollution of this kind should show initial signs—a mark on the heart, a struggle against losing one’s path—a gradual descent, with room for recovery before total collapse.

Yet before her, the man had skipped every warning, transforming instantly from living cultivator to a creature of pure instinct!

Could the world’s pollution have grown so savage?

She recalled herself at the restaurant earlier.

She’d thought her lapse of mind was merely a dangerous misstep, one she could recover from.

But now, she realized: if not for Lu Chenyuan’s timely call, pulling her back from the brink of madness—

What she’d faced was not a gradual corruption, but a total Dao death, swift and absolute, just as this man before her.

At this thought, cold sweat drenched her back.

Lu Chenyuan, unaware of Shangguan Chuci’s inner turmoil, was stirred by the words "Dao death."

He’d witnessed such tragedies before, known only as "transformation," but today he learned that this total downfall had a name among cultivators—Dao death.

He watched as the monster approached the stall owner, his perspective changed:

"If one day I am driven to the brink, will I become like this?"

"Master forbids me from cultivation—perhaps fearing I’d follow this same path…"

Lu Chenyuan steadied himself and said to Shangguan Chuci, "Such abominations will not be ignored by the Demon Suppression Bureau. Best to stay clear; we must not be caught in the crossfire."

No sooner had he spoken than a long whistle sounded at the end of the street.

Several men in black, clad in tight uniforms, swept down from the rooftops like night owls, faces grim, eyes unwavering.

Upon landing, they spread out, taking positions. Without a word, each drew a chain as thick as a child’s arm, made of black gold. With a flick, the chains writhed like live serpents, weaving into a net and forming a small formation, trapping the monster just before it could kill the stall owner.

The creature lunged and howled, but could not break free of the black gold chains.

The leader produced a mysterious iron compass from his breast, murmuring incantations. A white beam shot from the compass, striking the monster’s brow.

A sizzle, like hot oil on snow—the monster wailed, black smoke rising from its body, and within moments it melted into a pool of foul blood.

The leader stowed the compass, his gaze sharp as lightning, sweeping over the shaken crowd.

The compass needle, passing the corner where Lu Chenyuan and Shangguan Chuci hid, quivered and deviated slightly.

His eyes narrowed, about to look closer, but recognizing Shangguan Chuci’s handsome face, he frowned minutely, said nothing, and waved his hand,

"Withdraw!"

The black-clad figures departed as swiftly as they had arrived, vanishing into the night, leaving behind chaos and a trembling crowd.

Lu Chenyuan watched the direction of their departure, awed by their strength and efficiency, though he’d known the Bureau would intervene.

Shangguan Chuci, sensing his thoughts, said,

"With the Sea Tide Festival approaching, the Demon Suppression Bureau has laid a net over Zhenhai River."

"They have set up dozens of pollution detection arrays. Whenever the pollution concentration exceeds the threshold, they can respond immediately. This time, their reaction was quick."