I Am Your Natural Enemy-Chapter 527 - 212: Death Can’t Take Him Away, Turns Out He’s Not Here (5k)

Chapter 527: Chapter 212: Death Can’t Take Him Away, Turns Out He’s Not Here (5k)

The Taoist priest returned to his original state, only now with a touch of incense smoke about him, and his entire demeanor had become somewhat chilly, no longer resembling the living.

He emerged from the subterranean cave, his form as ethereal as a ghost; merely standing by the roadside, when the wind blew past, he felt as if he could drift away with it.

He stood by the road, gazing into the distance. A cargo truck passed by. With a blank expression, he drew near, and in the instant the vehicle went over a speed bump, he vanished behind the truck.

In the blink of an eye, he reappeared in the truck bed, leaning against the side guardrail, sitting quietly inside, simply waiting in silence.

The freight truck quickly left the mountains, heading south all the way. As it passed a stretch with cliffs on the right and a precipice on the left, on a hilltop across the ravine, a man with a little mustache stood alone, quietly watching the truck.

After watching for a long while, he let out a sigh of regret. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

"Humans, no matter how many times they choose, some things simply never change.

People don’t change, so naturally the ending won’t either.

What a waste that I helped you so many times, even took the initiative to remind you twice.

Statue ghosts—such fascinating, special ghosts.

This must be the so-called ghostly spirit that Qingcheng always boasts about?

It truly did have a chance to become a spirit of ghosts.

It had already completed the organ preparation and opened its eyes—it could have gone through an impart teaching ritual at least once.

Why couldn’t it have just held on a little longer?

Ten years or three—what difference does it make to them?

Seriously... "

Little Mustache sighed. He’d heard Qingcheng talk up that "Envoy of Ghosts and Gods" slogan a thousand times before.

He used to think the word "God" was just tacked on, to make it four characters, so it would sound grander when spoken.

Never would he have imagined such a being actually existed.

The first time he encountered a truly special ghost with a real hope of transforming, he was genuinely thrilled.

He even tried to give it some gentle guidance, dropped a few hints, so it would have a real chance at evolving safely.

Unfortunately, he had to admit, some ghosts really are just too stupid.

Then again, it makes sense—if ghosts were any saner, what place would people have?

That’s probably why only Qingcheng could reach the level of truly binding and commanding spirits.

They must be the best at steering and controlling special ghosts. Maybe even treating ghosts has, given enough years, become a practiced art, built from accumulated experience.

Thinking this way, it’s not just the ghost’s problem; that Taoist is suspect as well.

Enough—the two of them are nuts. How could that ever have ended well?

Whatever, I’ll stop caring. The statue ghost’s dead, and even if he doesn’t know how it died, he no longer wants to see what happens next.

The thing he cared about is gone.

That Taoist, who had once taken such pains to hide his presence, now dares to appear so blatantly on the highway, even hitching a secret ride.

It seems he’s made up his mind to die.

Little Mustache thought for a moment: when it comes to those resigned to death, you really ought to show a little more respect. So he solemnly waved his hand in that direction.

"Have a good death."

Bidding farewell, he turned and left.

Meanwhile, in the back of the truck, the Taoist seemed to sense something. He turned his head slightly, looking toward that distant mountain. There was nothing there.

He didn’t mind anymore. At this point, whoever noticed him, he truly didn’t care.

He almost hoped someone would spot him.

He’d even had a plan, to use something else as a distraction for the Scorching Sun Department.

But it was all too fast—he’d barely set things in motion when the statue ghost was already dead.

The Taoist closed his eyes, sitting in the truck’s cargo bed, pondering whether there might still be a chance, any possibility of resurrecting the statue ghost.

But the more he thought, the deeper his despair became.

...

Qing Xuzi stared at the little jade carving in his hand. Moving closer, he could even see into the jade carving itself.

The female ghost, eyes closed, sat quietly cradling Nan Yuncai. From Nan Yuncai’s body, wisps of something were fading away.

Looking to the other side, Hao Mingyang stood in another small room. His form began to turn gradually translucent, faint glimmers of spectral light flaring and then disappearing, each time taking a part of Hao Mingyang with it, vanishing altogether.

Qing Xuzi was secretly shocked and quickly released the three ghosts from inside.

Once they landed on the ground, he could see and feel everything far more clearly.

Hao Mingyang, standing there, the ghostly light on his body taking his very ghostly shell away as it faded.

Confronted with this, Hao Mingyang looked at Nan Yuncai and, instead of losing control, revealed a look of sudden realization.

"I remember who I am now. I remember..."

He gazed at Nan Yuncai, held tightly in the female ghost’s arms, as if seeing his own reflection. Even though he was slowly fading away, he could not help but dance with joy.

"I’ve remembered. I’m free. I’m finally free, hahahaha..."

Hao Mingyang looked at Nan Yuncai, everything coming back to him. He was Nan Yuncai—except that, because of changing fate, he became Hao Mingyang.

But for that reason, he was liberated. He was very satisfied with this change of fate: exhausting, yes, but it brought a rich sense of ease. Even with death, he could now disperse and vanish.

If he hadn’t changed fate, it would have been him in the arms of that woman warped by possessiveness.

Even if he hadn’t fully understood, he could tell: Power was dissipating from Nan Yuncai’s body as well; his soul body was dissolving too.

Only, locked in the arms of that woman whose possessiveness had twisted her, Nan Yuncai could not even disappear if he wanted to—forcefully possessed, death itself would not release him.