Chapter Eight: The Filial Son

"Father, you’ve ascended to heaven! Your fair flesh can sell for three strings of copper coins. Butcher Ma is waiting for you. Only when you ascend can your son marry a wife!"

Everything twisted into a bizarre and terrifying scene.

Filial Piety Town was by no means as simple as a few wicked spirits.

A chill swept over; Chu Tiange could feel a pair of hands tightening around his neck.

Yet he kept his eyes tightly shut, as if nothing existed.

"So, you’re not my father after all!"

A low, hoarse voice rasped by his ear, as if whispering right beside him.

"I must find my father! Find my father! Send him to ascend!"

The voice faded, as did the clamor and the blaring of suona horns, drifting away into the night. The filial son, failing to find his father here, went off to search elsewhere.

Tonight was destined not to be peaceful; someone was fated to ascend.

Outside, the suona’s wail, the clang of bronze drums, and the filial son’s mingled cries and laughter never ceased.

No one knew how much time had passed before drowsiness stole over him, sleep flooding Chu Tiange like a tide, submerging his very being.

The town’s cacophony seemed to vanish. Outside the courtyard, the sound of sweeping leaves arose once more.

Chu Tiange sank into slumber.

He dreamed of countless women.

There were girls in their youth, elderly crones, beauties with faces like flowers, young women in their prime, and aged matrons with faces creased by time...

"Brother Tiange, do you want a young maiden or an older woman?"

In his dream, someone smiled as they spoke to him.

"I am a young man, so naturally, I want a young woman," Chu Tiange replied.

The aged crones and wrinkled matrons looked at him with poignant resentment, withdrawing unwillingly.

Only young women remained.

They swayed before his eyes in all manner of attire, dazzling him with their moves.

Each one was alluring and distinctive, their beauty captivating, their figures voluptuous.

Every face brimmed with a maddening allure that made a man yearn to discover more.

Yet none of this concerned him; he needed only one woman. That woman was Zhao Yiren.

A delicate fragrance drifted to his nose.

Zhao Yiren stood before Chu Tiange.

He looked up.

She wore a thin garment; her red lips were seductive.

Her bosom was full and plump, her curves exquisite, her body delicate and slender, her skin smooth as porcelain.

She dipped her head slightly, revealing a long, snowy neck and shapely, enticing legs.

She walked towards Chu Tiange, each step a subtle temptation, her slender legs swaying with a provocative rhythm.

"Shall we all join, or is it just the two of us?" she asked, reaching out her right hand, fingers slender and polished, laying her hand on his chest, her voice soft and entrancing.

"Just the two of us," Chu Tiange replied, his desire surging, his breath growing heavy.

But in the next instant, a sense of danger swept over him.

"Wait!" Chu Tiange suddenly exclaimed.

"Tiange?" The woman’s puzzled eyes were filled with charm.

"On second thought, let’s all join. You all stand on the steps ahead, and turn your backs to me. I’ll come to each of you in turn," Chu Tiange said, glancing aside.

There, resplendent golden steps had appeared out of nowhere, leading straight up to a throne.

A king sits above, enjoying the worship and submission of countless women.

"Oh, brother Tiange, you do know how to play," the woman couldn’t help but giggle, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Of course, we must fulfill brother Tiange’s wish and let you experience the taste of ascension."

"Very well," Chu Tiange nodded.

The woman clapped her hands, and the bevy of alluring women scattered, each ascending the steps, posturing seductively, raising their hips to reveal even more enticing sights.

"Yiren, come with me," Chu Tiange smiled, taking her delicate hand and leading her toward the steps.

"Line up and don’t be impatient," he instructed.

Step by step, they ascended, soon reaching the tenth tier.

"You shall be the first to share pleasure with me. Stand above and turn your back to me," Chu Tiange said gently, untying his belt.

Soft laughter echoed from the women all around, their voices sweet and coquettish.

Their laughter, to Chu Tiange’s ears, was laced with evil and intrigue.

Yet Chu Tiange laughed as well.

But when the woman placed one foot on the eleventh step, her laughter ceased.

In that instant, from beneath the thirtieth step, all the stairs erupted with black divine light—terrifying, overwhelming—instantly engulfing all the women.

Even the old crones and matrons lurking in the shadows were annihilated in that moment!

Shrill screams rang out one after another, beauties shed their skins, bare bones exposed, all swallowed by the black radiance in the blink of an eye.

Moments later, the screams abruptly stopped.

The steps fell silent.

The once dazzling girls had been utterly reduced to dust.

"So, I’m asleep. This is a nightmare, invading my dreams," Chu Tiange murmured, holding out his hand to see a piece of skin piercing through his palm.

When a ghost dies, it leaves behind its skin.

This skin was exceedingly valuable, suitable for crafting talismans. It could be made into a Dream Talisman, allowing one to wander within others’ dreams.

A nightmare that could leave behind its skin had to possess profound cultivation.

Unfortunately, this nightmare had miscalculated.

This was his own dream. The Heaven’s Pearl of Creation had long since merged with his soul. At a single thought, ninety-nine steps manifested in his dream, and with the power of the steps, he suppressed and slew the nightmare.

"When a ghost dies, it leaves a pill; when a nightmare dies, it leaves its skin. This refers to wicked beings above the Underworld Shade, equivalent to cultivators beyond the Divine Pill tier."

"The power of just twenty steps was enough to suppress this high-level nightmare. What terrifying force," Chu Tiange thought, gazing up the steps, not daring further action.

In other words, only when Chu Tiange reached the Divine Pill tier would he be qualified to ascend the thirtieth step.

The path of cultivation was long and arduous.

With the crow of a rooster, Chu Tiange opened his eyes. In his hand was a faintly red piece of skin, with the embroidered word "Delicate" at the lower right corner.

The nightmare perished in the dream world, but its ghostly skin remained in reality.

Chu Tiange stored away the nightmare’s skin and left the bed, lighting a candle on the stand.

One of the four taboos: during the day, one must keep a candle burning. After doing so, Chu Tiange pushed open the door.

The sky was just beginning to lighten, yet dawn had not broken; the heavens remained dim and gray.

"The hour of the Rabbit has arrived; I can explore the town now."

According to what the dwarf ghost had said, there was but an hour each day to investigate this little town—time was tight.

The courtyard was spotless, as if freshly cleaned; not even a single leaf remained.

From the corner of his eye, Chu Tiange saw Zhang Sangui, the dwarf, hurrying past the edge of the yard, clutching a bamboo basket filled with white paper money.

The dwarf ghost, hearing his voice, turned his head. At the sight of Chu Tiange, his face contorted with terror and he fled in haste.

...

Chu Tiange’s expression shifted. He turned, but saw no one else behind him.

"White paper money... So last night wasn’t a hallucination. The filial son was truly weeping and mourning, and the sweeping I heard was the dwarf ghosts cleaning up the paper money," Chu Tiange surmised, narrowing his eyes.

White paper money—the misfortune the dwarf had spoken of. Or perhaps, more precisely, it was a veiled threat; this paper money was the price for one’s life.

Once you accepted the paper money, the filial son would surely come to claim your life.