The Invincible Female Ghost Is A Bit Of A Hopeless Romantic Chapter 261: The Living Vault

The mont that altar eye opened, the entire mountain hollow felt as if it had been pressed down by an invisible hand.

The wind stopped. The fog stopped. Even the white shadows gathered outside the qi barrier froze for an instant, as if they hadn’t expected the thing beneath the altar to actually crack its eyelids open at this mont.

The mountains were already gloomy, and now, under the stare of that black eye, everyone felt a tightness in their chests, like a wet rock just pulled from a well was pressing down on them.

Lu Yuan’s gaze flickered. “It’s getting up.”

The mont the words left his mouth, the mat covering the altar mouth violently lifted upward.

It wasn’t blown by the wind. It was pushed from underneath by whatever was inside.

As the mat flew up, everyone saw that the altar mouth wasn’t an empty cavity as they had imagined.

Instead, it was a mass of twisted, dark black shadow, laced with thin red lines—like blood vessels, or strands of hair.

That shadow had no complete form, yet it vaguely outlined a curled shape, resembling a person but thinner and longer, its spine almost arched into a single line.

Zhou Heng cursed: “Damn it! What kind of monster is this!”

Lu Yuan didn’t respond. Instead, he flipped the copper coin pressed in his palm, ran his thumb over the hole, and muttered a short, precise incantation:

“Copper bares the yin, revealing the true form. If the evil body hides, first break its shadow.”

With that, he flicked his wrist, sending the copper coin flying toward the altar mouth. It hit a black nail with a sharp “ding” in midair.

That black nail was already half-loosened. Struck by the coin, it snapped with a crisp “crack.”

The mont the broken nail fell, the two thin bamboo sticks at the altar’s edge shuddered in unison, and the paper banners fluttered violently, as if one corner of the formation’s anchor had been pulled out.

From within the black altar, the mass of shadow let out an extrely low, piercing shriek.

The sound wasn’t human. It was more like the tearing of dozens of sheets of paper being ripped apart at once.

Sharp, laced with a stench, and that stench carried resentnt.

Zhou Heng and Xu Erxiao couldn’t help covering their ears, their faces turning pale.

Wang Cheng’an held his ground without retreating, but sweat beaded on his forehead. He clutched the talisman tightly, his eyes fixed on the altar mouth, barely daring to breathe.

“Brother Lu!” he shouted in a hushed voice, “This thing is about to co out!”

Lu Yuan said coldly, “Let it co out. I’ve been waiting for it to show its face.”

With that, he suddenly planted his feet firmly, his entire aura shifting, as if he had transford from a reed in the mountain wind into an iron stake driven into the ground.

His left hand ford the Thunder Seal, his right hand pressed his fingers together into a sword point, the knuckles white from tension.

He opened his mouth and recited a long altar-suppressing incantation:

“Heaven and earth are boundless; Qian and Kun lend their power. The mountain cannot cover ; the water cannot drown . The altar has its gate; the gate has its curse. I now use my body to suppress the altar, my qi to seal its mouth. Left presses the Azure Dragon; right pins the White Tiger. Front suppresses the Vermilion Bird; back subdues the Black Tortoise. If the evil altar rises, first cut off its path. Urgently, urgently, as by the law’s command—Suppress!”

As the final word “Suppress” left his mouth, Lu Yuan’s sword fingers dropped sharply, pointing straight down onto the invisible line of qi on the ground.

In that instant, a deep, heavy thunderclap seed to echo through the mountain hollow.

That thunder didn’t co from the sky. It seed to roll up from the depths of the earth’s veins, causing the very ground to sink slightly.

The half-raised body of the shadow at the altar mouth was forced back by a full three-tenths by this shock.

But those three-tenths only enraged the thing completely.

The black altar trembled violently. The black eye at its bottom suddenly widened, a ring of dark red spreading across the white of the eye, like blood that had been simred too long.

Imdiately, the white shadows all around let out shrieks and charged forward, their numbers double what they had been just monts before.

“Hold the line!” Lu Yuan barked.

As the horde of white shadows crashed into the qi barrier, they let out a series of “hissing” sounds, like paper touching a fla. They shattered in layers, but shattered only to reform, and reford only to charge again.

The black eye at the altar mouth grew wider and wider, the eyeball nearly rolling out of the altar’s depths, fixed intently on Lu Yuan.

Lu Yuan knew it had singled him out as the first mouthful of yang qi to devour.

Instead of retreating, he advanced, his footsteps suddenly changing.

One step of Yu Steps, two steps of rotating stars, three steps of pressing the position, four steps back to the center.

Each step was placed extrely lightly, yet with extre stability.

His sword fingers joined and then separated, as if drawing an extrely short, invisible talisman line in the air.

Then, Lu Yuan chanted a spell, his voice low but as cold and hard as a blade scraping against stone:

“Heaven’s light falls as a seal; earth’s fire forms the talisman. Where my feet stand is the righteous path. Borrow a single wisp of withered incense from before Zhenlong Temple, a single mouthful of righteous qi from the mountains beyond the Great Wall, and a single thread of unextinguished yang fire from within my own body. Today, I break your altar’s heart and sever your evil path.”

As he spoke the final line, he suddenly looked up, a cold gleam flashing in his eyes as he barked out: “Save!”

With that single cry, sothing in the mountain hollow truly seed to be commanded.

The black eye at the altar mouth twitched violently, as if pierced by an invisible needle. The shadow that had been trying to surge outward was instantly frozen in midair.

Lu Yuan seized that fleeting mont.

His form shot forward, charging straight toward the front of the black altar.

At the sa ti, the eye inside the black altar finally went completely mad.

It opened the altar mouth wide, letting out a strange sound like a mix of crying and laughing. The shadow within the altar swelled, shooting out like countless strands of wet hair, heading straight for Lu Yuan’s face.

“Brother Lu!” Song Qinghe cried out in alarm.

But Lu Yuan’s gaze was ice-cold.

He didn’t even turn around. He simply flipped his left hand’s Thunder Seal, pressed the copper coin forward with his right hand, and spoke each word clearly and deliberately:

“Thunder does not strike a yin without eyes. Today, I will open your eyes for you—and seal them as well. Urgently, urgently, as by the law’s command—Break the Eye!”

Before the words had even faded, the copper coin slamd straight into the shadow within the altar mouth.

The next instant, the entire black altar seed to ignite from within. It arched violently upward, and from the very depths of its base, a thin, bright white line burst forth.

The mont that white line appeared, all the white shadows around them let out a piercing scream, as if their backbone had been instantly severed.

And the black eye at the altar’s bottom, for the first ti, showed true terror.

It began to shrink back.

But Lu Yuan would never give it that chance.

He brought his two fingers together and slashed them sharply through the air, shouting: “Cheng’an! Catch the talisman!”

Wang Cheng’an almost instinctively raised his hand, and the yellow talisman Lu Yuan tossed landed perfectly in his palm.

He quickly pressed the talisman with his left hand, held his right wrist steady, and turned his toes slightly inward, half-crouching and half-standing. He recited a short incantation loudly.

Though his voice was young, it carried a solid, righteous force.

The yellow talisman grew hot in his palm in an instant, a faint ring of golden fla flickering at its edge, forcing a white shadow that had been lunging at his back to retreat half an inch.

But at that very mont, the black eye at the altar’s bottom suddenly rolled.

The shadow that had been shrinking back surged forth again in the blink of an eye. Instead of retreating, it slithered out along the white line at the altar mouth like a living snake.

Lu Yuan’s expression changed: “Damn it! It’s trying to use your yang qi to turn the tide!”

He reached out to press it down, but he was half a step too slow.

The shadow shot out, heading straight for the talisman in Wang Cheng’an’s hand!

Wang Cheng’an felt a sudden heaviness in his palm, as if he had grabbed a piece of iron just pulled from an ice cellar, so cold it numbed him.

Before he could react, the pale golden talisman let out a sharp “crack,” splitting open with a thin fissure.

Lu Yuan’s gaze hardened as he barked: “Don’t let go! Press it down! If you let go, it will mark your door!”

Wang Cheng’an gritted his teeth, his face red from the strain, refusing to release his grip. The veins on the back of his hand bulged.

Seeing this, Lu Yuan knew the kid had really held his ground. His heart steadied instantly. Seizing the half-step opening, he suddenly retreated, his hands flipping through three hand seals in quick succession. He stomped heavily on the ground and shouted loudly:

“Before Zhenlong Temple hangs a clear lantern; in the mountains beyond the Great Wall burns an old fla. I borrow true yang with righteous law to seal your altar eye and cut off your path ho! Urgently, urgently, as by the law’s command—Unite!”

As the word “Unite” left his mouth, Lin Zhaoxuan, Zhou Heng, and Song Qinghe simultaneously pressed their talisman power toward the center, following the positions Lu Yuan had taught them earlier.

Even Wang Cheng’an and Xu Erxiao, carried by that surge of righteous energy, pressed forward together.

Six people. Six streams of yang qi. They were twisted into a single rope by an invisible hand.

For the first ti, the black eye within the black altar showed genuine panic.

It suddenly contracted. The altar mouth let out a loud “bang,” and the entire mat collapsed inward.

Then, the mass of shadow at the altar’s bottom seed to be forcibly pressed back, letting out an extrely unwilling, piercing shriek.

Finally, with a “whoosh,” a massive plu of black smoke erupted from the cracks at the altar’s base.

The black smoke carried a sweet, bloody stench that almost blinded everyone as it rushed at them.

Lu Yuan raised his sleeve to block it, but his eyes stayed locked on the altar mouth.

Because he knew it wasn’t over yet.

Sure enough, as the black smoke cleared, the large eye inside the altar mouth had closed back by half an inch, but the black nails around the altar’s body began to emit a series of extrely faint cracking sounds, one after another.

It was as if sothing inside the altar itself was spiraling out of control.

And from deeper along the mountain path, the sound of a wooden fish ca more urgently and more chaotically.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It sounded like a death knell, or like a soul-summoning call.

Lu Yuan slowly let out a breath, his gaze colder than before.

“The one behind the main altar can no longer sit still.”

In the mountain hollow, though the altar eye had been temporarily suppressed, the fog did not dissipate. Instead, it grew thicker.

The old mat pressing the path, the paper banners summoning shadows, the wooden fish stilling the spirit—this entire altar formation had only had its first layer pried open.

The deep qi truly hidden behind had likely already retreated deeper along the mountain path, quietly.

And once it retreated, it ant the next round would only be more vicious.

The fog was still there. The mountain was still there. The sound of the wooden fish was still there.

But it was more distant now, as if drifting out from deeper in the mountain’s belly.

Muffled by layers of earth and tree roots, it pounded dully against their hearts.

Lu Yuan stood still, not rushing to chase the altar.

He first lowered his gaze, staring at the half-broken black nails around the black altar’s edge, then at the charred mark left by the copper coin on the mat. His expression darkened by degrees.

“It’s retreated,” Lin Zhaoxuan said quietly.

Lu Yuan slowly replied: “The one behind the main altar already knows this spot has been breached. Chasing it now won’t necessarily catch its true form. We can only follow the residual qi it left behind.”

Zhou Heng swallowed hard, his voice dry: “Then… then do we still chase?”

Lu Yuan didn’t answer imdiately. He just reached into his bag and pulled out the copper coin.

He gently rubbed it with his thumb. The black residue on the coin’s edge had turned gray and dry, as if its yin nature had been drained away.

But even so, a faint trace of a sweet, bloody scent still lingered in the coin’s hole.

This wasn’t the sll left by ordinary ghost tickets.

It was altar qi. The qi of an altar that had been fed offerings.

Lu Yuan flipped the coin in his palm, gave it a cold look, and said: “We chase. Since it opened its mouth, it couldn’t have only raised one eye here. They’ve already taken half of this road.”

With that, he turned to look at the old wall shrouded in fog.

The wall wasn’t tall, half-collapsed and half-standing, built of green brick, yellow earth, and old timber, like a ruined courtyard left behind decades ago.

The courtyard gate was long gone, leaving only two crooked gate posts, with a trace of faded red lacquer still clinging to them.

That red lacquer had long been weathered into a dark brown by wind and rain, looking like dried blood.

The black wooden stakes in the courtyard, used to hang paper banners, had also fallen silent.

Too silent.

Lu Yuan knew that true danger didn’t often co when things were lively. It ca in the sudden stillness after a bout of chaos.

“Don’t enter the courtyard yet,” he said, raising a hand to stop the others. “Walk around the outside for half a circle. Find the altar’s root.”

“A black altar isn’t buried alone. It has to have a root. That root is either underground or connected to sothing else. The glimpse just now revealed the altar’s heart, but whatever is connected underneath it hasn’t shown itself yet.”

Lin Zhaoxuan imdiately understood and nodded: “You an this is just an altar mouth. The true entity supporting this yin-route is soone else.”

Lu Yuan nodded, already walking slowly toward the side of the old courtyard: “Find the altar root first. The altar eye can be sealed, but if the root isn’t pulled, this place will grow back on its own.”

As they circled to the east side of the old courtyard, the fog was a bit thinner. Only then did they see a row of broken bricks pressed against the wall’s base.

Thin green moss grew in the cracks between the bricks, but several extrely unusual black threads clung to the moss.

At first glance, those black threads looked like grass roots, but when touched, they were soft yet firm, like hair that had been twisted, or hemp rope that had been burned but not consud.

Lu Yuan crouched down, gently poked at them with a finger, and his brow furrowed.

“They’re guide threads.”

Everyone was startled. Then Lu Yuan added: “Soone twisted yin hair into threads, mixed in incense ash and bone dust, and buried them under the wall’s base. One end of the thread connects to the altar, the other to the road. That eye inside the altar feeds on the qi traveling along this thread.”

As he spoke, Lu Yuan suddenly raised his hand and gently tapped the wall’s base.

After tapping, he leaned down, pressed his ear to the wall, and listened for a mont. His expression shifted slightly.

“It’s hollow underneath.”

Lin Zhaoxuan also leaned down to look, then reached out to touch a slightly loose brick and said quietly: “There’s a cavity here.”

Lu Yuan nodded: “Not a cavity. It’s an old vault. And it’s a living vault.”

The mont “living vault” was spoken, the expressions of several people changed.

In the old mountains beyond the Great Wall, the term “living vault” wasn’t thrown around lightly.

A dead vault buried things. A living vault raised things.

If there really was a vault below that could still breathe air, channel yin, and connect veins, it ant this place wasn’t for simple storage. It was for nurturing a formation.

Lu Yuan didn’t act imdiately. He first stepped back half a pace, looked up at the top of the wall, then surveyed the terrain, and said quietly: “The east side belongs to wood. Wood generates wind. The wind flows from here, and the altar qi disperses into the mountain. They buried the altar root here to borrow the eastern wind and send yin fire deep into the mountain.”

Zhou Heng was a bit confused but didn’t dare to ask. He quietly retreated half a step, afraid of getting in the way.

Lu Yuan pulled a thin incense stick from his bag. It wasn’t long, and its color was an ashen gray, not like the usual offering incense in the temple. It was a special vault-questioning incense he had mixed himself.

He crushed half an inch off the tip, revealing a tiny bit of very faint black ash.

Lu Yuan didn’t light it. Instead, he inserted the incense into the mud at the wall’s base and quietly recited:

“Incense does not honor gods, only questions the vault’s depths. Qi does not summon ghosts, only illuminates the hidden grooves. If there is a deep opening, let the incense reveal itself. If there is a yin vein, let it follow the smoke. Urgently, urgently, as by the law’s command—Open the vault.”