Shi Yang yawned, staring at this version of his aunt lying in his arms after lecturing him about the wants and needs of a mature woman's tender body.
"I'm really becoming a scumbag," he muttered, pulling her closer. "But if being scummy helps me balance Xiu Mei and Han Jie… and even Wei Kunshan, now that I know she's a woman—then I'll gladly walk this path."
He exhaled slowly, then added, "First, let's get back to the real world. I've tasted all I could here for now."
Closing his eyes, he envisioned the storm within his spirit sea. The world around him began to shift—clouds churned over the town, winds howled, thunder cracked within the darkness.
His body grew lighter as raindrops lashed against him. Flash! Boom!
Lightning split the sky, thunder rolled, and when Shi Yang opened his eyes again, he was drifting upward, his ethereal body rising into the storm. Then he felt it—a Dao resonance. His gaze turned instinctively toward the north, where the pole lay.
"This… so there's still more left for me to squeeze out," he whispered, eyes narrowing. He focused on the pull and willed himself forward.
In the next instant, his eyes widened—he had crossed entire cities in a single blink.
"Wow…" he thought, speechless, as he hovered above a sprawling city. His senses sharpened. "Did I just leap that far from my hometown?" He looked down at the rivers of light, at the people walking beneath the night sky, and slowly smiled.
Is this the true power of astral projection? The thought pulsed through him. If I can replicate this speed in the real world, I could cross vast distances. More than that—I could use it as an escape technique, not by leaving my body behind while projecting elsewhere, but carrying it and myself to safety in seconds.
Schemes bloomed in his mind, plans taking shape with each beat of his heart.
But the pull remained, calling. He turned back to it, then shot forward once again—faster, sharper, until the storm broke—
—and found himself floating above the deck of a massive fishing boat.
There, amid the crashing waves, a corpse dragged its rusted blade free and swung it in a wide, murderous arc.
The deck tilted underfoot as waves slammed against the hull. The fishermen's laughter turned to screams the instant the corpse tore itself free from the tangled nets.
Its tattered blue hanfu clung to half-rotten flesh, seawater dripping from its matted hair. Dead eyes rolled white, then snapped red as it growled, clutching the rusted blade in both hands.
"Holy shit, what the hell is that?!" the streamer shrieked, his phone clattering onto the wet deck, camera still rolling. Comments flashed wildly across the screen:
[User_SeaDog] WTF IS THAT A MOVIE PROP?!
[NekoChan88] BRO RUN DON'T JUST STAND THERE
[FishingDad42] Push it overboard! Push it overboard now!
The first fisherman to act was a grizzled man in yellow gear—he grabbed a gaff hook and swung. The undead blocked with a single slash, metal shrieking as the hook snapped in two. With the next stroke, the fisherman's torso split open, blood spraying against the rain.
Chaos erupted. Men stumbled, fell, scrambled across the slick deck. One tried to shove the corpse with a broomstick—his arms were lopped off at the elbow, his scream drowned by the sea wind. Another raised a knife, but the blade skittered uselessly across the creature's rotted chest before its sword cleaved down, splitting skull from crown to chin.
The streamer screamed louder than all of them, fumbling for his fallen phone as if clutching it might save his life. The undead's head whipped toward him, blade dragging sparks along the soaked deck as it advanced.
Shi Yang's astral body hovered above, watching the slaughter. He felt the bloodlust below pierce through him like needles. If I don't act now…
The corpse raised its sword—
"Not so fast!" Shi Yang snarled, and his astral form slammed downward. His fist, charged with faint ripples of Dao, connected with the creature's shoulder.
CRACK.
The impact jolted the monster sideways, its arm snapping at the joint with a sound like splintering wood. The fishermen froze in disbelief.
"Holy shit—what was that?!""Someone's here—there's someone on board!"
Dozens of people murmured, unable to believe their eyes. "A-another undead spirit?"
The corpse snarled, twisting its broken limb unnaturally, blade still gripped in its dead fingers. Shi Yang grimaced—his astral body's strength was greater than a normal man's, but far from godlike. His punch only staggered it.
The undead lurched forward, swinging wide. Shi Yang barely ducked, the blade grazing his spectral form. Sparks of pain rippled through him—pain? Astral projection wasn't supposed to get hurt.
Teeth clenched, he darted in again, striking with both fists, aiming for its chest. The impact forced it back a step, boots skidding across the wet deck.
The fishermen rallied, desperation burning through their fear. One hurled a harpoon, piercing the creature's thigh. Another brought down an axe, biting into its shoulder, though the corpse barely flinched.
"Hold it! Hold it down!" someone screamed.
But the undead howled, tossing men aside like rag dolls. One fisherman's head cracked against the railing, another's spine snapped under the force of a kick.
The streamer, pale and shaking, pointed his phone wildly at the carnage. "C-Chat—oh god, oh god—there's something here, something's fighting it! You guys see that?!"
In the flickering rain and lightning, Shi Yang's astral outline shimmered faintly, a half-formed silhouette of a man standing between death and the survivors.
"Damn it," Shi Yang muttered, tightening his fists as the Dao of water coiled faintly in his veins. "If this is part of my spirit sea's illusion—or not—I'll cut you down all the same."
He lunged, spectral muscles straining, and met the monster's blade head-on.
"Featherless Palm!"
His fingers sharpened into something deadly, his open hand colliding against the rusted edge.
Clink!
The force of their clash canceled out, leaving only the sting of flesh striking iron. He didn't relent—his wrist twisted, spinning with the blade's momentum as he broke its guard and pressed in close.
"Take this!" His left fist clenched, lowering his stance before driving upward. The punch landed hard in its ribs, forcing the corpse to grunt and skid backward. Shi Yang seized its arm and poured all his strength into another strike, snapping an uppercut into its jaw.
The undead's eyes flared with rage as its arms locked around his calves, trying to drag him down. But it failed—Shi Yang's astral body floated free of gravity. He flipped midair, grinning.
This thing isn't completely mindless after all, he thought, eyes sharp. His smile widened.
Scanning the deck, he spotted the broomstick one fisherman had dropped.
"That'll do." He darted toward it, snatching it up. "White River—Sword Dance!"
Wielding it like a blade, he slashed toward the robed corpse.
The undead growled, steel meeting wood—yet the broom didn't splinter. Shi Yang had reinforced it with a thin layer of Qi. With a deft twist, he deflected the strike and rammed the broom's head into its ribs.
Crack! Bones shattered. The monster bellowed in pain.
Shi Yang stepped back, ready to block the next blow.
Slice.
The broomstick split in half with terrifying ease. His eyes widened. The rusted sword had cut clean through as if newly forged.
Swish. His instincts screamed—he ducked just in time. The blade tore across his shoulder, leaving behind a burning, searing pain.
It got sharper?! He gritted his teeth, sidestepping another swing. The truth clicked in his mind. It's feeding Qi into the blade—sharpening it with every strike.
Growling, he lunged forward, jamming the broken broom half into its chest. The undead staggered, roaring, but its sword remained deadly—hungrier than before.
Shi Yang's mind raced. I need to disarm it… No, I can't. Its grip is too tight on the hilt. If I try to wrest it away, I'll be cut apart.
His eyes narrowed. Then I'll kill it without nearing the sword.
He feinted to the left, baiting a slash. The blade sang past his ear, missing by a hair. In that instant, he surged in low, twisting around its guard. His broken weapon plunged into the creature's side again and again, striking ribs, spine, and finally the skull.
The corpse shrieked, blade flailing wildly, but Shi Yang used his floating form to stay just outside its range. With one last thrust, he jammed the splintered broom through its throat. The creature convulsed, then crumpled onto the blood-slick deck.
Shi Yang stood over it, panting, his astral chest heaving with the phantom echo of exhaustion. Slowly, he reached for the rusted sword.
The moment his fingers closed around the hilt, he pushed Qi into it.
SSHHHH—
The metal hissed, corrosion spreading faster, the rust thickening as if devouring itself. The blade's aura flared with murderous intent, so sharp he felt his astral fingers prickle.
"It doesn't want to be wielded," Shi Yang muttered, eyes narrowing. "It only wants to cut."
The fishermen, pale and trembling, stared at him in silence. None dared speak.
Shi Yang let the sword rest heavy in his grip, the storm wind howling around him, its intent gnawing at his skin. Though the more he looked at it, the greater his Dao response was.
He felt the seawater that lingered in its steel, rusting it as he fed the blade. If he could figure out how to merge this into his water Dao, he might have another trump card against sword cultivators.
"This thing…" His lips curled into a thin smile. "…might be worth learning from."