Journey to the End of the Night
Chapter 166 - 166 164 The Dead Cannot Return

166: Chapter 164: The Dead Cannot Return 166: Chapter 164: The Dead Cannot Return Baili An no longer dared to bite it randomly, thinking to himself that perhaps the ears were Afu Tu’s Achilles’ heel, turning red with a kiss, fainting with a bite.

He called out twice, but there was no sign of awakening; the soft little creature even unconsciously hummed twice, though it was unclear what it was responding to.

Its two short claws covered its cheeks, and its whole body curled into a tiny, fluffy ball, nestling in the palm of his hand.

Adorably messy.

Even the increasingly cold heart of Baili An, a corpse demon, couldn’t help but soften at its cute appearance.

He gingerly placed the little one into his embrace to let it sleep.

When Baili An looked again at the yin energy-heavy drowned child below, his pupils turned into a deep, solitary black.

The drowned child trembled violently.

Baili An suddenly spoke slowly, his voice light as the dry leaves picked up by the wind in the forest: “Even if my little rabbit refuses to eat you, today I cannot allow you to remain.”

The drowned child sobbed, the pale bead above its head brimmed with tears, seemingly pleading.

Baili An slowly withdrew his finger, the ghost on the ground fiercely bounced, attempting to flee.

He gave a faint glance, his gaze extremely calm, the cold murderous intent free of any intimidation.

Yet the body of the drowned child about to violently leap, trembled violently again and obediently lay down.

Even the young faces that continuously, frenziedly tore at her, trying to escape her skin, became still and quieted.

Baili An picked up a handful of dry leaves, wiped the black blood from his palm clean, then sat down on the ground and patted the drowned woman’s head as he began to converse with her.

“In this forest and lakes, there lie the remains of eighty-three children, all of whom you have consumed; those drowned beneath the yin ghosts, died without peace, instead imprisoned by you.

Their souls forever confined within your single ghostly body, twisting and turning, suffering through repeated calamities; you bear the souls of eighty-three unresolvable beings, misfortune entwined with you.

You think you can bear such evil consequences, but you do not realize that every cause has its effects.

You drowned them for your unborn child, thus this evil consequence naturally should also be borne by your child.”

The drowned child’s body trembled violently, tears in its hollow eyes gradually turning as red as blood, fiercely flowing out.

The two long arms beneath its ribs tightly guarded its stomach, the ghastly pale and swollen face now exuding a desperate sadness.

“You commit evil deeds; the mountains no longer have mortals living in them, no more children for you to consume, the dead fetus inside you cannot be nurtured.

Once your corpse decays, the eighty-three faces on you will latch onto your unborn child.

From this, only two outcomes will arise.”

“One, your child consumes these eighty-three yin spirits, becoming the new drowned child, its soul forever wandering alone in this dead lake, never to find peace.”

“Two, your child is devoured by those eighty-three yin spirits, leaving no drowned child in the lake, what remains are only eighty-three evil ghosts who do not enter the six paths.”

His eyelids drooped as he watched the now silent drowned child, finally dropping a gentle word: “How will you choose?”

The drowned child blankly lifted her ghastly pale face, unrecognizable even after ten years as a ghost, long losing the radiant beauty and charming youth of her earlier years.

Even the basic humanity had sunk into the cold depths of the lake at the moment of death.

Dead cannot return.

Grievance cannot be removed.

The yin ghosts wandering in the Mortal World have never had the privilege of choosing one of two options.

But, at this moment.

Through her ghastly pale eyes, she looked up at the almost imperceptibly gentle gaze of the young man under the umbrella, patiently asking her how to choose.

Memories and emotions from her life as a human seemed to be retrieved in that instant.

Ten years at the bottom of the lake, indifferent, numb, ignorant, cursed, cruel ghostly emotions were like overturned by a lamp, extinguished.

Her ghastly white pupils slowly closed, no longer shedding bloody tears.

The bloated corpse’s visage began to slowly form clear facial features, the pale appearance of a young woman.

Her pale lips murmured, singing a ballad unheard by the living.

Baili An’s long eyelashes slightly closed, he shut his eyes, his pale face calm as if in a ritual, quietly listening.

It was a lullaby a mother sings to put her child to sleep.

The song ended with the separation of life and death, the stillness of reincarnation.

The tune of the song, unfamiliar to Baili An, yet warmed him with a distant familiarity.

Baili An opened his eyes, his dark pupils clean as fresh ink.

He drew the Autumnwater Sword, lightly tapped the sword body, and the sword hummed, clear and prolonged, like spring water cleansing jade stones, easing across under the gentle wind of the lake.

As if accompanying the woman in her song, he tapped out a song of soul sending with the sword of Autumnwater.

Soothing this eternally unpeaceful, lonely soul, in respect to all unspeakable things in the world.

The song slowly echoed through the wilderness.

On the bloated, pale skin soaked in lake water for ten years, those eighty-three childlike faces slowly closed their eyes under this gradual song, the disgruntled energy vanishing without reason.

Their facial expressions peacefully as if children asleep in a cradle.

Their faces kept peeling off from her body, as if being liberated from shackles, as if shedding the very shackles.

Streams of yin energy entwined among the dry branches and fallen leaves, like rain, like mist, eventually finding a sort of resting place, burrowing beneath the skulls under the rotting foliage.

A brisk cold wind arose, yet there was no longer a trace of sinister air.

The woman lay down among the cold, wet leaves and soil, her black hair damp and scattered; her pair of serene green eyes moved gently, wisps of yin energy and obsession pouring out and dissipating from her eyes.

Drowned child, only by drowning the children and incorporating the yin spirits into the dead, could the body of the drowned child be maintained.

Now, under the soul-sending song of Bai An’s sword humming, those eighty-three restless souls had returned to earth.

She was no longer the drowned child and, naturally, would disappear from this world.

Baili An looked down quietly at her hands protecting her prominently swollen belly.

He seemed to have realized something, his sword tip of the Autumnwater sharply cut open her abdomen, spilling a gush of liquid that flowed like corpse fluids, splashing the ground.

Amidst the foul stench, a tiny, icy black infant lay curled up.

Her thinly cool eyelids supported by a gentle wisp of grievance, slowly opened.

Her dark, penetrating eyes yet possessing the innocence of a newborn, quietly observed this mortal world.

Then died.

Baili An, not minding the stench and sticky corpse fluids, wrapped the tiny body in his wide sleeve, and gently said to the woman who was about to disappear, “Rest assured, I will lay your child to rest properly.”

The woman’s ghastly pale face revealed a miserable smile; she reached into her neck and fetched a jade bead, handing it over to Baili An.

A light breeze swept by, and the woman’s body spontaneously combusted into patchy, fire-torn fragments, disappearing between heaven and earth.

The woman, out of love for the child in her womb, turned her obsession into resentment, killing eighty-three innocent children, fate tied to this child, and the consequence was indeed meant for this child to bear.

Yet, to let her own child rest in peace, she abandoned the path of reincarnation, perishing in the unnamed dead lake.