Chapter Six: Haunted by Resentment

Zhang Xiao gripped the Ghost-Head Blade he carried on his back. The cold aura seeped from the hilt into his palm; although he had braced himself for it this time, he still shivered involuntarily. After observing the blade for a while and finding nothing amiss, he relaxed, tightened his hold, and followed the narrow path into Tiger Valley.

The trees in Tiger Valley were exceptionally tall, casting the valley into shadowy gloom. Zhang Xiao stepped cautiously at every turn. Though he wielded a formidable weapon, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t fall victim to a sneak attack by the fierce mountain tigers lurking there. These beasts were not the docile creatures found in zoos; they were true kings of the wild, jungle assassins. More daunting still, their strength surpassed his own. If ambushed, it was uncertain who would emerge the victor.

It wasn’t long before Zhang Xiao spotted a mountain tiger. The creature’s size exceeded even that of a bear, truly worthy of its title as king of beasts. The tiger noticed Zhang Xiao as well. But instead of finding a panicked prey, it met the gaze of a hunter—something that infuriated the tiger.

With a roar, the mountain tiger leaped at him. It was a level 13 monster, and Zhang Xiao dared not be careless. He rolled aside, dodging the attack, and slashed at the tiger’s body with the Ghost-Head Blade.

With a sickening sound, the blade opened an enormous gash across the tiger’s waist. Before the beast could process the pain, Zhang Xiao struck again, splitting its waist in two. Its intestines spilled out in a grisly heap.

Checking his experience points, Zhang Xiao found they’d increased by more than half. It seemed he needed only one more kill to reach level ten.

A surge of pride filled him. With a blade in hand, what fear should he have of mountain tigers? Hoisting the Ghost-Head Blade onto his shoulder, he strode deeper into the jungle.

He failed to notice, however, that as he lifted the blade, the tiger’s blood vanished from its surface, as if absorbed by the blade, leaving not a single drop behind.

Continuing toward the heart of the valley, Zhang Xiao encountered mountain tigers with increasing frequency, and his experience points soared as if riding a rocket.

Soon, he was on the brink of reaching level twelve. The thought brought a smug smile to his lips. He recalled a maxim from his previous life: “This isn’t a game—there’s no such thing as fairness. With the right opportunity, even a leap to the heavens is possible.”

While he hadn’t reached the point of a miraculous ascent, at this rate, he wasn’t far off. Feeling content, Zhang Xiao pressed onward.

Suddenly, the scenery grew hazy. An oppressive sensation welled up inside him, making him nauseous. Before he could grasp what was happening, pale apparitions appeared before him. Though their faces were indistinct, their voices rang clear, chilling and resentful: “Corrupt official, return my life!”

Startled, Zhang Xiao glanced at the Ghost-Head Blade in his hand, only to find it had vanished. Instead, a blood-red venomous snake was coiled around his wrist.

His face turned pale. Though he had been reborn, he had never encountered anything so bizarre. Without hesitation, he tried to fling the snake away.

To his horror, the blood-red snake grew as it hit the ground, swelling into a giant python that lunged at him.

No time for jokes. Zhang Xiao fled, opening his status window as he ran. There, he found a new condition: “Tormented by Resentment.” Now he understood why Li Dog-Egg had feared the Ghost-Head Blade so much.

The status warning made him want to curse: “Tormented by Resentment—the resentment within the blade will continually ensnare you. Upon death, all attributes are permanently reduced by thirty percent.”

He had only three attributes: strength, agility, endurance. Losing thirty percent of each meant a total loss of ninety percent—he’d be utterly ruined.

Stumped, Zhang Xiao forced himself to calm down. The things he saw might not be real, the result of his afflicted state.

Suddenly, inspiration struck him. In the ghost stories he’d read, biting one’s tongue was said to stimulate yang energy and repel evil.

He didn’t know if it would work, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Summoning his courage, Zhang Xiao bit down hard on the tip of his tongue. The sharp pain jolted him, and suddenly he saw the blood snake for what it was: the damned Ghost-Head Blade itself.

As the blade rushed at him, Zhang Xiao spat blood onto its surface. Miraculously, the blade erupted in a cloud of black smoke, flopping on the ground like a fish.

The hazy scenery cleared, and Zhang Xiao breathed a sigh of relief. But before he could relax, the blade convulsed again, spewing a blood mist that began to coalesce into the shape of a snake.

Seeing this, Zhang Xiao silently cursed the blade’s original owner’s ancestors. Before the blood snake could fully form, he fled, blindly crashing through the woods. Soon, a massive blood-red serpent was on his heels.

Strangely, the world around him remained clear, and the blood snake gradually slowed, sometimes even pausing to observe him. This boosted Zhang Xiao’s confidence.

A tiger’s roar cut through his thoughts, and he almost cursed aloud. Two mountain tigers leapt from the brush, joining the chase. Thankfully, Zhang Xiao’s level and agility were high enough to keep ahead, though he couldn’t shake his pursuers.

Over time, the tigers’ stamina waned—they were built for ambush, not prolonged pursuit. As they faltered, the blood snake seized them, entwining them together.

Zhang Xiao knew the blood snake was but an illusion, the true threat lay with the Ghost-Head Blade itself. Yet he wondered why the snake had eliminated his pursuers. He had no time to ponder, focusing instead on running for his life.

A pitiful roar echoed behind him. Glancing back, Zhang Xiao’s scalp tingled, and his legs nearly gave way beneath him.

Where once the tigers had been formidable beasts, now only skeletal remains remained. The blood snake, rejuvenated, had grown larger and sprouted scales.

Terrified, Zhang Xiao dashed forward without looking back. As the forest thinned, an ancient temple appeared, half-hidden among the trees.

The sight brought him joy. Since the world had changed, the earth had expanded countless times, and many places no longer appeared on maps. Such places often concealed powerful figures. If someone lived in this temple, perhaps his life could be saved.

He pushed himself harder, racing to the temple. Upon arrival, he found it dilapidated, barely standing. There was no sign of anyone, let alone a master.

As he debated whether to enter, the blood snake stopped nearby, flicking its tongue at him. Its face morphed into a human visage, glaring angrily.

“Damn it! I didn’t kill you, why are you so bent on revenge?” Zhang Xiao muttered, noticing the snake kept its distance, perhaps wary of another dose of tongue blood.

But after watching for a while, he realized the snake wasn’t afraid of him, but of the temple behind him. Of course, he couldn’t be sure; facing this blood snake, he had no means to fight back, not even a weapon.

It must be the temple’s influence, he thought. Emboldened, Zhang Xiao pointed at the blood snake and cursed, “You damned blade, now disguised as a snake to frighten me. Once I join Dragon-Tiger Mountain, I’ll toss you into the forge for remaking!”

His words enraged the blood snake, which lunged at him with jaws agape. Zhang Xiao retreated in terror, rushing into the temple.

The temple was small, nothing but a main hall inscribed with “Great Buddha Hall,” offering no place to hide.

No sooner had he entered than the blood snake followed. Desperately, Zhang Xiao bit his tongue again and spat blood at the snake, but this time, it had no effect.

Panic overwhelmed him as the snake’s maw closed in. In despair, Zhang Xiao shut his eyes and thought, “So be it.” Yet as death neared, his heart was unexpectedly calm.

The tension, resentment, and hatred he’d held for those who’d bullied him in his previous life faded away.

He almost wanted to laugh; after being reborn, he’d changed himself, but always for others—not for his own sake. The arrival of Bai Yunfei had upset his balance; he grew stronger not out of desire, but out of fear of being trampled. Though both paths led to strength, the difference was profound.

Understanding this, all his bitterness and resentment dissipated. He waited quietly for death, but no pain came. Had the snake changed its mind?

“Amitabha.” A deep, resonant Buddhist chant pierced his daze, giving him the courage to open his eyes.

There, before him, stood a monk in golden robes. The blood snake had vanished.

Delighted, Zhang Xiao hurriedly bowed. “Thank you, Master, for saving my life!”