"Let her in."
A beautiful young woman of about twenty-five or twenty-six entered from outside, her features showing traces of the mischievous spirit she once had.
This woman was none other than Song Pan’er.
Song Pan’er, her eyes brimming with tears, stepped in and said, "Cousin, Mother is dead! Wang Jie is also dead!"
Wang Jie was Song Pan’er’s husband, a fabric rchant in Chang’an City. After all, a Prison Chief was rely a minor official, so his family status couldn’t have been too prominent.
"Sit down first, we’ll talk after that. Where’s Uncle?" Song Lin frowned, sensing an air of conspiracy.
"Father has been thrown into the Heavenly Prison by officials from the Ministry of Justice, accused of corruption."
The Wang Family contracted a mysterious illness, which manifested as a blood-red human face growing on the back of the afflicted. The face’s image would continually enlarge, protrude, and beco more lifelike.
During this period, the host would grow emaciated, and within three days, they would deteriorate into a dried corpse, with the face also withering away.
Dozens of mbers of the Wang Family all perished violently one after another.
Strangely, only mbers of the Wang Family contracted this illness, and even Song Pan’er was not infected.
However, when Song Pan’er returned ho, she discovered her mother had also succumbed to this mysterious affliction.
As misfortune never cos singly, her father was thrown into prison on charges of corruption and was said to have confessed to his cris, with execution by waist-slicing planned in a few days.
Furthermore, Song Pan’er was set to be sent to the Imperial Music Bureau.
Having no other options, Song Pan’er turned to her cousin for help, pleading with him to find a way out of their plight.
In her heart, she always regarded her cousin as an extraordinary individual.
A decade ago, he was just like this. Ten years later, his appearance had not changed one bit.
Calculating his age, her cousin must be approaching forty by now, yet he showed no signs of aging.
He resembled the reclusive sages in legends, those mysterious experts with eternally youthful looks.
"Imprisoned? First, take back ho to have a look."
Song Lin didn’t bother with pretense. With a wave of his hand, he summoned a mass of white clouds, which enclosed him and transported him into the Upper Pure Pearl.
Song Lin transford into a gust of wind and entered the world within.
"This is...?" Song Pan’er stood in shock, unable to recover her senses for a long ti. She couldn’t fathom how she had suddenly been transported to this realm.
Montarily, she forgot her grief.
"This is the Upper Pure Immortal Realm. I have attained enlightennt through cultivation. But let’s not speak of this for now. I’ll provide you with two Spirit Talismans. Take them and return ho alone. Burn the talisman on the left to ashes, but do not touch the one on the right."
Before the words had fully faded, Song Pan’er was back in reality. Looking around, Song Lin was nowhere to be seen.
If it weren’t for the two Spirit Talismans in her hands, she might have thought it was all an illusion.
Recalling Song Lin’s instructions, Song Pan’er returned ho on her own.
Her aunt lay weakly on the bed, unconscious.
Song Pan’er found a basin and used a fire starter to burn the talisman.
As the talisman paper turned to ashes, a wisp of green smoke erged, drifting into her aunt’s nose and mouth.
Her aunt’s pallor visibly recovered to a healthy flush in re monts.
"Cough! Ugh!"
Her aunt suddenly awoke, coughing out a large mouthful of black blood.
The expelled black blood gave off tendrils of smoke, which coalesced into a massive human face.
The face was entirely ford from black mist, gender indistinguishable. The spreading black vapors that seed to form its hair emanated outward unchecked.
"How dare you attempt to break my spell!"
The face roared furiously, and countless wisps of hair lashed out toward the two of them.
The strands of hair were as unyielding as steel wires.
Song Pan’er hugged her mother tightly, closing her eyes and thinking that this ti, escape was impossible.
Bang!
Suddenly, the Spirit Talisman she clutched in her arms flared with radiant golden light.
The golden light ford a protective shield, blocking the onslaught of the tendrils.
"Exorcise!!"
From the void ca the sound of an intense spatial rupture.
The face looked up to see the roof violently broken apart by an external force.
Fierce winds howled, and ghostly cries filled the air.
An invisible, translucent divine sword, faintly outlined by threads of wind, pierced through its head.
Boom!!
The demon had no chance to scream before its form was obliterated, its essence scattered to the winds.
This was Song Lin’s mastery of the Wind Hero Realm, equivalent to the Fifth Realm of Core Formation.
Having refined the Wind Sword, though not yet fully sentient, he could already transform into formless wind, with his sword striking instantaneously.
The Wind Sword, invisible and formless, flew like the wind itself.
Faster than fire, softer than water.
Within a hundred miles, an enemy’s head could be taken in the blink of an eye.
If Song Lin were to unleash the Heavenly Escape Sword Technique’s All Swords Return to the Sect, summoning a single hundred-zhang-long sword, it could inflict wide-ranging devastation.
Or even unleash a barrage of countless swords.
Yet even with rely a single Wind Sword, the demon was vanquished, reduced to ashes and forbidden from reincarnation.
After recounting the entire incident to her mother, Song Pan’er saw her aunt rendered speechless in shock, unable to recover for a long while.
In a prison cell, a middle-aged man lay sprawled on the ground, his dull, empty eyes fixed on the ceiling as if lost in thought.
An unkempt old man nearby, his hair disheveled and face dirty, chuckled as he observed him. "What are you thinking about?"
"I’m thinking about my family. If I die, I don’t know what will beco of them." This man was Song Jie.
He had been haphazardly dragged into prison and unjustly charged with corruption.
Song Jie had never acknowledged himself as corrupt; his confession was forcibly extracted under duress.
All the allegations of corruption in the prison had been attributed to him. As a forr Prison Chief, Song Jie knew just how dire this was.
Not only was he facing his own beheading, but even his wife and daughter were to be sent to the Imperial Music Bureau.
This was a fate crueler than death itself. Song Jie had no idea what to do.
"I hope Lin’er can help them sohow."
All he could do was place his hope in Song Lin.
Song Lin held an official post in the court. As long as he could save his wife and daughter, Song Jie didn’t care if he survived.
Song Jie glanced at the old man beside him. Despite the man’s ragged appearance, not a shred of pity arose in him. Instead, he asked, "Why are you here?"
"I’m not imprisoned. This ti, I ca specifically to see you."
The old man opened the neighboring cell door and walked straight up to Song Jie.
"I owe you an apology. All of this was arranged by . My goal was to draw out the person behind you. You may have to endure so hardship."
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