The Invincible Female Ghost Is A Bit Of A Hopeless Romantic Chapter 256: The Scheme Isn’t Large, But It’s Very Sinister

A cold voice cut through the night like a blade. Lu Yuan’s brow twitched slightly.

Finally arrived... like an old ember roused from slumber. The fire wasn’t fierce, but it was steady.

The lingering chill from the struggle with the ritual spirit that had lodged in his ridians, the oppressive surging in his chest, the bluish-purple bruise on his right shoulder left by the seat-annihilation’s backlash — all of it began to warm and ease. Internal qi, previously scattered, began to gather; what was blocked started to flow, as if an invisible hand was slowly sorting things out.

The first change appeared in the hand that held his sword. His fingers grew heavy, then a warm strength rose from deep beneath the tendons and bones, faint and steady.

At the sa ti, the Town Pass Seven Stars Sword trembled slightly in its scabbard, as if sensing sothing.

The malevolent energy reined in along the blade shed faintly with the nascent genuine force in Lu Yuan’s body, making the already weighty old sword feel even more anchored, like a mountain pressed into place. When he opened his eyes slowly, there was suddenly an even deeper stillness in his gaze.

This was not outward sharpness, but that kind of depth—a weight and calm that only cos when one’s cultivation truly advances. The rivers of noise atop the waves smoothed out; the deeper currents brought a composed tranquility.

Lin Zhaoxuan, sitting not far from him, seed to sense sothing and looked up at him suddenly.

“?” Zhou Heng raised his head.

Lu Yuan spoke in a low, steady voice:

“Why did his aura suddenly deepen a notch?” Zhou Heng glanced without much reaction, voice flat:

“The ritual spirit is tough.”

“He used its formation to patch up so cultivation,” soone added.

The words made the group shift; the expression in Lin Zhaoxuan’s eyes flickered with surprise.

I already knew Zhou Heng was formidable, but I hadn’t expected that after that fierce clash his cultivation would be pushed down even a little.

Outside of sects, talent, opportunism, and sheer ruthlessness — missing any one could doom you. Once a formation is set, stepping into it without preparation is like stepping off a cliff.

Guan Qixing lifted his head and asked in a asured voice: “Can he hold?”

“He can.”

“It’s just that his aura is smoother now.” The man spoke calmly and without hurry.

Only a ring of dim red coals remained in the fire, occasionally popping with a small crackle and spitting a few sparks that the valley wind quickly smothered.

The crescent moon had shifted westward. Moonlight slanted down from the ridge, washing the valley’s stone path in a pale heat-white glow, like a thin frost laid over the wasteland. After surviving the ritual spirit, everyone knew this was no place to fully relax.

Even with the evil altar broken, one had to keep half an edge to guard against other filth from the mountains sneaking in. The relaxation that had seeped into their bones was superficial; the valley still felt like a stretched wire ready to snap.

Huo Jun leaned against a rock, head nodding as he fought to keep alert, the short blade laid across his knees.

Lu Yuan closed his eyes, the Thunderclap Token held in his palm, breathing much more evenly than before. He drew his cloak tighter as he watched the coals, protecting the patched sealing plate bundled in cloth by his side.

By the first half of the night the fire had burned low, leaving only a few dim embers.

Dawn ca. Dew and chill rose from the valley grass as the breeze rolled in.

Zhou Heng was the first to wake.

When I stood, my movents were steady; the wound beneath my shoulder was less botherso, though the hem of my clothes still bore ash stains from last night’s duel. The others stirred; Lin Zhaoxuan’s eyes opened first, still heavy-lidded.

“Everyone up.”

Lin Zhaoxuan rubbed his face and croaked, “Dawn?”

Zhou Heng stood on the stones, tone sharp but calr than last night:

“Don’t ask them anything.” He swept a look over Huo Jun, then to the rest in a asured, serious manner.

Zhou Heng addressed the eight of us directly:

“Going further will only get worse. Tell them. The altar there is not ordinary; its arrangent—”

“The ritual spirit is only one of the gate-guarding entities in that place. It’s tough, but it’s not the main deity.”

At that, the faces around the fire changed.

The main deity... the true master...?

Huo Jun nodded and continued: “If a single gate-guard ritual spirit can force you into that state, it ans whatever’s outside is far more vicious, far colder, and far more dangerous.”

“You need to ask them.”

“What are we asking?” soone asked, voice heavy.

Zhou Heng was not trying to frighten them for effect; he was laying out the blunt truth.

Last night’s battle drained the Thunderclap Token; it can’t be invoked again in quick succession without severe cost. They’d already squeezed most of its thunder intent. The sealing plate is damaged, barely functioning.

Lin Zhaoxuan, Xu Qida, and Wang Cheng’an could still hold on, but mostly through nerve and perseverance.

If they pressed on, safety would drop dramatically. Zhou Heng’s expression hardened; he spoke pointedly.

The reverse side of the old Token showed only a few scorched lines — clearly they had pressed it to the limit last night, but had not completely exhausted its foundation.

I lifted my head and gave a wry smile. “Your thunder’s really weak now. One more heavy invocation and it’ll hurt your core fate energy.”

I paused, then added: “But if we don’t move when the chance arrives, the formation will only seal tighter. Waiting might lock us in.”

Guan Qixing sighed heavily and ran his hand along the cracked edge of the sealing plate.

“That plate’s half ruined.” He said, “but it’s not completely done for.”

“You can repair it, patch it. It’ll hold for a while.”

He raised his eyes, voice low but steady: “If we leave that place as is, the ones who suffer later will be many.”

Zhou Heng listened quietly, then finally said:

“If they’re willing to co with us, you shouldn’t stop them.” The words were plain, then he added, “But once they co, you must take everyone out.”

I knew those eight were reckless by nature.

Surviving the kind of trap they’d just endured proved their guts, but guts without asure leads to disaster. Still, they were willing.

Zhou Heng pondered, then said:

“Since they’re willing to follow, you can’t block them.”

He paused, then continued: “Every step forward might demand the sa hard charge as last night.”

“The things outside are malevolent deities, steeped in unnatural yin malevolence. They feed on incense and offerings; their rites are warped.”

“They might not be direct face-to-face fights you can win by clashing steel with steel.”

Lu Yuan nodded slightly.

“Where did the offerings go? Who is consuming that qi? Which deity is being fed?”

Guan Qixing, listening intently, added loudly: “If this altar is old, it might not even be a proper temple in the na of a local earth god.”

“It could be a fake shrine made to siphon off residual qi.”

“That’s the hard part: finding and distinguishing it.”

“Ask them, then. Are they coming or not?” Zhou Heng’s voice was firm.

“First steady the minds, then the tools, and first of all secure the path.”

Everyone looked at Lin Zhaoxuan, waiting for his reply. He looked tired but resolute, then lifted a slight smile.

“Brother Lu, his words sound like he’s asking whether you want them to co.”

“It kind of sounds like they’ve been counted as liabilities by those two.” Zhou Heng’s smile was brief and wry.

“To be honest, you’d rather they leave.”

“But if they stay, you have to bring them all out.” The words were blunt but steady.

Lin Zhaoxuan fell silent.

I stood, dusted myself off, sheathed my short saber, and said plainly: “Alright. They rescued him last night; Lin Zhaoxuan, stick with him.”

Lu Yuan rose as well and pressed the Thunderclap Token in his hand. “Even weakened, it can still be used. If we have to find supply routes and sever guiding lines, that thing will help.” He looked at Huo Jun and the others.

“Besides, thunder techniques are only one way to seal yin paths. We might not get perfect chances.”

“You’re coming too.” Zhou Heng said.

“The sealing plate is cracked, but there are still fragnts inside,” Guan Qixing added. “It can be patched.”

Zhou Heng finally stopped questioning.

I took the Town Pass Seven Stars Sword from beside and rested it across my palm, scanning the eight quickly.

“Before it gets fully bright, set a simple array at the valley mouth to press down last night’s residual qi,” I instructed.

“Then we head north.” I continued. “If that shrine is the source, the road ahead will be longer and deadlier.”

I took out a handful of Yellow Talismans and pressed a fingertip to each, reciting a short cleansing incantation in a clear voice.

“Sky clear, earth placid, wind and fire return to store.

“Hearts confused, filth abides. Gradual pacification.”

With the final phrase, Zhou Heng flicked his wrist and the talismans were slapped against the seven-sided stone where the eight had been sitting.

The gesture looked odd but was solid. The residue of cold qi around the talismans collapsed, sinking back into the earth.

The valley’s remaining warmth was pressed away by those seals; the place quieted.

Lu Yuan’s eyes flicked. He seed oddly disturbed.

Zhou Heng did not deny it; he spoke sharply:

“Last night we cracked open a threshold.” Those words landed heavily.

Only then did the tidying of last night’s end truly close the previous stage.

In the valley void below, dawn brightened; the clouds peeled back to reveal the gray silhouettes of distant mountains. The ashes and charred wood of the fire lay half burned.

All traces of the ritual spirit’s presence seed to have dissipated, as if the previous night’s horror had been a dream.

Zhou Heng and company packed up and prepared to leave the valley.

Huo Jun tested his legs with a few steps, the short blade at his side. Lin Zhaoxuan tucked away the Thunderclap Token with care — its scorch marks visible but it still functioned.

Guan Qixing wrapped the sealing plate tightly in cloth and tucked an extra layer around it, as if afraid of any further jolts. His step remained steady as they moved.

The path out was long.

But as they went farther, the group felt the residual force of the altar hadn’t been completely cleansed by Zhou Heng’s strike. Damp greenish mist clung to sides of the path like a lingering cold.

A few mountain sparrows skittered by, their clear chirps making the travellers tremble slightly, as if stunned by an afterimage of danger.

It felt like the prior night’s danger was a misperception — a ghostly residue of the mountains outside.

When I reached the valley mouth, I suddenly stopped.

On the right-hand side of the mountain path, a patch of pine trees stood with several crooked stones around them. Between the cracks of those stones, a few dried grass stems had been stuck upright, like crude markers on a slope — easily overlooked by a casual passerby.

I signaled everyone to halt.

Lin Zhaoxuan stopped at once and asked in a low voice:

“What is it?” He stepped closer to the pines, eyes scanning the ground.

The mountain wind blew through the pines, carrying the faint scent of burned incense ash.

The sll was strong. Having just broken a ritual spirit, my senses for incense, paper ash, and lamp oil were keen; I could pick it out instantly. I crouched and peered at the tuft of grass stems among the stones.

“That’s a road suppression,” Guan Qixing said, moving closer and following my gaze. “Like a pressure marker.”

Zhou Heng stood and examined the grass stems wedged in the cracks.

“It’s not a simple fork marker,” he said. “Those stems are arranged in a bundle.”

“It looks like they were planted to guide travelers.”

Lu Yuan crouched to take a closer look and his brow creased. “Not just a marker, it’s—”

“More like a pointer.” Zhou Heng nodded. “These grasses point a route.”

“In the old ways, people afraid of getting lost would set grass markers at forks to show which way was safe and which way to avoid,” he explained.

“But these stems are pressed in with the wrong qi by half an inch, deliberately steering people from the safe path toward death.”

Hearing that, Lin Zhaoxuan’s face changed.

“Not set by human hand?” He pushed aside a few stems and peered closer.

“Not necessarily placed by a person,” Zhou Heng said. “More like an old path’s remnant qi has been re-pressed into a new, huge, deceptive formation.”

I stepped back a few paces, picked up a large clump of white ash from the stones, and held it in my palm. The ash was mixed with bits of burnt incense and a small, red ember of incense grain still clinging.

Zhou Heng shut his eyes and pinched the ashes deliberately, then said loudly:

“That’s what the ritual spirit left behind last night.”