Chapter 1722. A Forced Melon Isn’t Sweet but Quenches Thirst: A White-Boned Spirit

This coffin was exceedingly ancient, as if it had just been unearthed from the soil. Some parts were decayed, covered with moss and dirt.

A dense miasma clung stubbornly to it, as though it could not be dispelled, drifting with the wind, spreading far and near, carrying an incredibly terrifying corrosive aura.

It flew from the depths of Jiakong Ridge, soaring across the sky, and quickly descended upon this area.

“Honored guest arrives, how could I, an old one, not offer proper courtesy? But this pile of bones cannot endure much fuss.”

From inside the ancient coffin came a hoarse, aged voice, like that of an old woman, tinged with coughing, as if long-sick.

“Master…!”

Shang Zhongming and the others’ expressions immediately changed, then they all became respectful in unison. Even the childlike figure, who had just been about to lash out in anger, stopped in place.

None of them had expected that the Master had remained in Jiakong Ridge all along, never departing elsewhere. Yet all these years, they had not known, and the Master had not revealed herself.

To all the beings of Jiakong Ridge, the Master held extraordinary significance. This place had been created entirely by her, a refuge she had provided for all those in desperate straits, granting them peace.

The Master’s strength was unfathomable in everyone’s eyes, beyond measure. No one knew her true level. Even among the nine leaders, only a few had actually seen her in person.

“Seems you were willing to come out after all.”

Gu Changge’s lips curved into a faint smile, his gaze calm and gentle, yet deep and indifferent at the core, showing no emotional fluctuation.

“My Jiakong Ridge cannot endure the presence of an honored guest.”

“How could I, an old one, continue hiding? How could I not come to greet an honored guest?”

Accompanied by a fit of coughing, the coffin fell straight down from the sky, landing upright in front of everyone. Thick miasma swirled around it, mingled with strands of chaotic fog and fragments of the Dao, making the scene inside indistinct even to Shang Zhongming and the others.

However, when Gu Changge’s gaze fell upon it, his expression stirred slightly. The coffin lid was pushed open by an invisible, overwhelming force. A snow-white, delicate skeleton sat upright from within. The upper body was straight, but the lower body remained in the coffin, surrounded by the dense miasma.

As Gu Changge’s gaze lingered, faint blurry energy appeared on the skeleton’s surface. The surrounding miasma twisted and was drawn toward the skeleton, adhering to it. Gradually, blood veins and patches of flesh emerged, covering it and restoring its form.

In no time, a stooped old woman, dressed in rough linen with red and green floral embroidery on the sleeves, coughed as she slowly climbed out of the coffin.

She was spirited, her silver hair flowing, face lined with wrinkles, bright-eyed, and her expression utterly kind, like a grandmother watching people pass by at the village gate, radiating peace and tranquility.

“Master?”

Shang Zhongming and the others, seeing the Master’s appearance for the first time, widened their eyes in disbelief. It was hard to imagine that this seemingly ordinary old woman was the revered Master they had long admired.

In truth, they had never truly seen her before; prior encounters had been shrouded in miasma, hearing her voice, knowing only that she was female.

“I haven’t climbed out of the soil for a long time. There’s no need to be alarmed. When one ages, this is what one looks like. Time spares no one. Even though I was once extraordinarily beautiful and outstanding, unrivaled across the ages, I cannot escape the passage of time. Soon, I may truly be nothing but a cup of yellow earth and a few white bones…”

The old woman, trembling, climbed from the coffin, producing a jet-black cane from somewhere. Leaning on it, she spoke with nostalgia and reflection. She hobbled slowly, as if a gust of wind could blow her away, or a few stones could trip her. Shang Zhongming and the others, shaken by her appearance, also felt concerned.

Could it be that the once formidable, world-dominating, unparalleled great tyrant had really fallen to this frail state? Or had some calamity befallen her this time, leaving her so weakened?

Longming Daojun scrutinized the legendary Master of Jiakong Ridge, full of confusion and astonishment. If not seen with one’s own eyes, one would never believe this old woman could be the Master.

This was not about judging by appearance. He could clearly sense the emptiness of her qi and blood, her essence almost dissipated, as if she were truly at the end of her lifespan, only hanging on by a single breath.

From beginning to end, Gu Changge quietly observed the old woman, hands behind his back, paying no mind to her murmured reflections.

After their initial shock, Shang Zhongming and the others quickly regained composure, showing no disrespect despite the Master’s frail appearance. They began explaining Gu Changge’s identity and purpose, worried that the old woman was unaware of current events.

The old woman listened, clearly astonished. Her aged face showed continuous shock and disbelief, and she could not help but sigh.

“Never expected that after countless years, the Black Calamity would strike again, and with such force… so many true-world civilizations have already fallen…”

“Alas…”

“Unfortunately, I am now so broken. Even if I wish to help, I may only hinder and cause trouble for others.”

She sighed, coughed, and quickly pulled a handkerchief from her bosom to cover her mouth. The handkerchief rapidly became soaked with blood, a shocking sight.

Shang Zhongming and the others’ faces changed, concealing their worry.

“The older one gets, the harder it is to suppress old injuries. In my youth, these wounds would have been nothing—I would have fought the Dark Beings to the death.”

Seeing the concern on their faces, the old woman waved and smiled gently, reassuring them, “Do not worry. In the short term, I shall not die.”

“However, the safety of Jiakong Ridge will likely rely on you from now on.”

“We never imagined, Master, that your disappearance all these years was because of these injuries…” Shang Zhongming said solemnly.

Some of the leaders, however, looked puzzled. The Master usually spoke succinctly, even when announcing important matters, never giving unnecessary explanations or allowing interruptions. Was this because of her injuries, forcing her to elaborate, or was it intentional?

After wiping the blood from her mouth, the old woman slowly hobbled to Gu Changge, cane in hand, smiling politely.

“When an honored guest arrives, Jiakong Ridge is naturally honored. I shall arrange a feast for you. Please forgive any earlier shortcomings.”

She appeared unaware of Gu Changge’s true purpose, as if merely inviting him deep into Jiakong Ridge as a guest.

“Master, the Alliance Leader traveled thousands of miles; he is not here for pleasantries.”

Longming Daojun frowned, sensing that the Master might be confused about the situation.

The old woman, still smiling, replied, “I understand. But recruitment requires mutual consent. Like a marriage, both must agree; a forced melon is not sweet.”

“Besides, with my current frailty, as you can see, I likely cannot serve the Alliance Leader. Even if I wish to, I have the will but not the strength.”

Longming Daojun had personally brought Gu Changge to Jiakong Ridge to show loyalty and earn merit. Yet the Master’s firm stance left him at a loss. Could he abandon the effort?

“A forced melon isn’t sweet, but it can quench thirst. Quenching thirst is enough.”

Gu Changge, who had remained silent, smiled faintly.

The old woman looked at him with helplessness. “But Alliance Leader, this melon of mine… cannot even quench thirst now.”

“Whether it quenches thirst can only be known after picking it.” Gu Changge smiled faintly.

“This melon of mine, in this state, might rot on the vine before you even pick it.”

She coughed again, covering her mouth with the handkerchief.

Gu Changge, however, reached out and grasped her shriveled, branch-like wrist, as if to assess her condition.

“I see that you still have some years to live. In my opinion, you might as well use your remaining warmth to illuminate this darkness for all beings of the vast expanse.”

“As for the future safety of Jiakong Ridge, you need not worry. I shall protect it, and it will remain safe.” He smiled faintly.

The old woman’s expression changed slightly. She tried to withdraw her hand, but it was as if welded in place, unable to move. She felt that with just a thought, Gu Changge could obliterate her arm—or her entire body—into powder. Since he grasped her wrist, her life had effectively been in his hands.

“Master…”

“Release her immediately!”

Shang Zhongming and the others’ faces turned grim. Some even drew weapons, ready to fight.

Longming Daojun’s body stiffened, hastily summoning his weapon, facing the other leaders.

“What do you think of my suggestion?” Gu Changge asked, seemingly oblivious to everyone else, still smiling faintly.

The old woman’s mind raced, and with countless thoughts flashing through, she still smiled, “The Alliance Leader has invited me so politely, I cannot refuse. How could I say no?”

“A wise person—I like reasoning with wise people,” Gu Changge said, releasing her wrist.

The old woman wanted to roll her eyes, but circumstances were against her. She kept a gentle smile.

“Cease all hostility! The Alliance Leader extends a kind invitation; why brandish weapons?”

“From now on, we are all on the same side,” she said, looking at Shang Zhongming and the others.

Even with more people, they could not match Gu Changge. From the start, she had sensed that resistance or small tricks were useless.

Shang Zhongming and the others exchanged glances, realizing the Master’s stance had shifted drastically in moments. They guessed it must be due to what Gu Changge had done. Though unwilling and disheartened, they had no choice but to comply. Any confrontation would likely end the same way, with great cost.

The Master of Jiakong Ridge was named Mu Fuguang, as she herself told Gu Changge. He immediately discerned her “White-Boned Spirit” origin, and paid little attention to her name.

Gu Changge’s purpose in forming the Sky-Subduing Division had always been simple: recruit powerful beings for his use. Their origins were irrelevant.

Mu Fuguang initially presented herself as an old woman, attempting to deceive him and avoid being recruited. Gu Changge, however, came specifically for her, and didn’t bother exposing the ruse.

She realized he had indeed come for her. Though annoyed, she had no choice but to accept recruitment. Against such a being, escape was impossible.

At first, Mu Fuguang thought that when Gu Changge grasped her wrist, he left a mark controlling her life and death. Later, she realized that the mark must have been placed even before he arrived, of which she had never been aware. The wrist grasp was merely a warning.

Such a method was unfathomable, terrifying. Even Mu Fuguang shivered, goosebumps rising along her bones.

When leaving Jiakong Ridge, Longming Daojun still felt dizzy, barely able to turn his head. He could not reconcile the vision of a stunning woman in a red dress with the frail old woman he had just seen.

This woman’s smile, the curve of her eyes and brows, was dangerously enchanting, almost capable of enthralling him.

He had reached the Ancestral Dao Realm after countless trials, his mind unshakable. If ordinary people faced her, what could they do?

Yet, he could not know which form was truly the Master of Jiakong Ridge; each was bewildering and deceptive.

“Everyone desires beauty. I cannot stay as a decrepit old woman forever. You youngsters… Why act so naive?”

Mu Fuguang held a crimson folding fan, partially covering her face, eyes sparkling, hand over her mouth, speaking playfully.

Her appearance was indeed bewitching: delicate features, slender and graceful, fair as snow, flawless skin, elegantly arched brows, a dot of vermilion on her forehead, rosy lips, and a red dress that seemed to burn with her presence, a femme fatale capable of wreaking havoc.

Longming Daojun observed carefully, aware of her unfathomable strength, knowing not to underestimate her based on appearance.

“Young Master, are you planning to recruit me to fight the Dark Beings?” She asked, smiling brightly at Gu Changge.

“But I must warn you—I am not skilled in combat. I have always practiced vegetarianism, recited sutras, cultivated virtue, and avoided confrontation.”

Her gaze fixed on Gu Changge, radiant with charm.

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