Chapter Sixteen: A Title That Doesn't Fit

When Su Changling descended the mountain on her sword, the sun had already dipped into dusk. Thanks to the heavy rain two days prior, the sunset still revealed a sea of flowing clouds blanketing the mountains like waves on the ocean. Yet, burdened with a heart full of worries, Su Changling found no comfort in the usual beauty of the cloud sea. Instead, the mist drifting over the mountains resembled the sinister aura that clung to demons and evil spirits.

The thick fog, almost solid in its density, snaked along the ridges and spread in all directions, enveloping Yixian County and, in the blink of an eye, shrouding most of Xiuning. When Su Changling finally located the Cheng family estate again, the evening watch drums had just sounded six times.

It was the first watch of night. Darkness was settling in, and the demons that hid during the day in the courtyard now roared and clamored, filling the world with chaos. On the horse-head wall, a ghostly figure that had vanished all day stretched out its legs and leaned against the curved eaves, even leisurely waving to greet her.

This creature, it seemed, was becoming quite insolent this night.

Su Changling’s lips twitched stiffly. Swiftly, she reversed her sword and struck forcefully at the neck of the fierce ghost!

From years of experience hunting demons and spirits, she knew that vengeful ghosts tended to fear what had killed them in life. For example, ghosts slain amidst chaotic battles feared weapons and hooves, while those struck down by heavenly thunder feared rain.

Among the 161 records of deceased disciples from the Cloudstep Ruins she had studied today and memorized, 73 had died by the sword.

Of those 73, seventeen had been beheaded with a single stroke.

If this vengeful spirit was one of those seventeen...

Shooting into the void atop her sword, Su Changling fixed her gaze tightly on the gaunt ghost on the horse-head wall, unwilling to miss the slightest change in its form.

Her sword, brimming with murderous intent, suddenly descended. The ghost was momentarily surprised but showed no trace of fear. It skillfully summoned a cursed sword, coordinating its waist, hands, and legs to effortlessly parry the flying blade!

In the clash, sparks flew from the snowy blade, and the force struck so powerfully that Su Changling’s entire arm tingled uncontrollably.

Such tremendous strength!

Pressing her lips firmly against the sword, the young woman frowned, her heart sinking further. Among the 161, fifty-one had relied on nimble, light swords, lacking heavy strikes—and this ghost showed no fear of her decapitating blow...

Calculating carefully, her list of suspects had shrunk within moments to just over a hundred.

Her brows knitted tighter. Taking advantage of the ghost’s slight lapse, she pivoted her sword sharply, directing her killing intent straight at the vulnerable spot in its waist.

Unexpectedly, the ghost seemed to anticipate her move. Twisting its phantom sword, it deflected her blade with a diagonal strike from behind its waist!

This single move alone could have taken down nearly twenty of her suspects—no, with its speed, closer to thirty!

Less than eighty remained.

Su Changling’s lips whitened from the strain, but her sword strikes grew faster.

Recalling what she had read in the mountain records that day, she probed the ghost’s weak points one by one. Sword light danced with spiritual energy in the air as the girl and the ghost blurred into indistinct shadows.

Within the Cheng estate, countless demons closed in, watching the two fading forms in midair. Yet Su Changling’s fear deepened with every exchange.

Li Hongxue, the sixteenth-generation disciple of Cloudstep Ruins, was left-handed, wielded a long sword with swift thunderous strikes, calm and reserved like a flying swan hiding in the snow, with a weak spot on the right side.

Kong Lingfu, the twenty-ninth generation, favored her right hand, specialized in heavy swords, defensive with mountain-like strength, weak spot at the foot.

Tu Jing, the thirty-seventh generation, ambidextrous, aggressive with wide, flowing swordplay like a rushing river, weak spot on the back.

The forty-first generation disciple...

One disciple after another flashed rapidly through Su Changling’s mind like a revolving lantern. Her complexion grew increasingly grim.

She had thoroughly examined the entire layer of mountain annals—144 volumes of red-listed records covering over 14,460 disciples—and carefully selected 161 sword masters most likely to have died with grudges and become vengeful ghosts.

And yet, not one matched this ghost’s swordsmanship style.

Not a single one!

The ghost’s sword technique, upon close scrutiny, differed from all 161.

“You... who were you in life?” The young woman frowned, retreating more than three meters after clashing swords once more with the fierce ghost. Her gaze faltered slightly as she stared at the specter before her. “I have studied the lives of over 14,400 disciples who died unnatural deaths in the Cloudstep Ruins.”

“But among those thousands, not one resembles you.”

“Were you really one of our disciples?” Su Changling suddenly raised her eyes, her sword tip once again pointing at the ghost standing casually three meters away.

“Or were you just... a petty thief who didn’t even dare show their face when stealing techniques?”

Her voice turned cold. As the sword’s gleam flared, the faint light on the obsidian compass she wore intensified. Yet the ghost looked up, staring directly at the compass capable of subjugating all ghosts, and merely opened its mouth to emit a series of ambiguous “ho ho” sounds.

“Ho... ho ho...” It grinned mockingly. Su Changling listened and inexplicably felt it was ridiculing her naive innocence.

Having had its fill of laughter, the ghost casually swung its sword to repel the terrifying blade aimed at it, then without hesitation turned and darted into the multistoried building.

“Running away again!” Su Changling exclaimed in shock, nearly spitting blood in frustration.

After seventeen years of mountain training, it was the first time she had encountered such a despicable ghost. She wondered who had taught this fiend such insolence.

When she caught it next time, she vowed to strike it repeatedly with thunder techniques!

Gritting her teeth in hatred, she cursed the ghost thoroughly in her mind but dared not slacken her pace.

Having spent another day resting within the Cheng estate, the ghost now knew the mansion’s layout better and spent the whole night leading her to places most likely to be crowded with people.

Thus, Su Changling neither dared to recklessly strike nor was willing to let the obvious “ghost leader” slip away, enduring her fury silently as the spirit led her on a wild chase for half the night.

At dawn, she watched helplessly as the ghost slipped into the spring wasteland right under her nose. Looking up at the faded plaque, Su Changling felt all her pent-up anger nearly explode at once.