341: Chapter 339: Red Lotus at the Bottom of the River 341: Chapter 339: Red Lotus at the Bottom of the River Inside the jade carriage, the Spirit Stones that surrounded Fang Geyu had lost their spiritual glow and lay in heaps like white dust.
The wind outside the carriage wailed, shrill and sinister.
When Baili An had left the jade carriage, the soundproofing technique had already been destroyed.
Fang Geyu suddenly opened her eyes; the accumulated white dust beneath her blew away in every direction.
Through the tightly closed door’s cracks flowed countless hair strands.
After the Array on the carriage walls had weakened the yin energy of the hair, the remaining strands in the door’s crack were no longer deadly, though the sight was eerily bizarre.
Fang Geyu hadn’t realized that Su Jing had disappeared from the plush seat beside her.
She abruptly stood up, her expression as somber as still water.
For by the carriage window, the young man who had been ditating quietly was, at so point, nowhere to be found.
Li Jiujiu was startled awake by Fang Geyu’s movents.
Seeing black hair swirling through the cracks of the door, she clamped a hand over her mouth and cried out in alarm, looking around disoriented, her complexion pale, “Where is Xiao An?
Where did he go?”
Fang Geyu didn’t answer.
She kicked open the carriage door, and the world outside had taken on a completely different appearance.
In the marshy mud, the dark, heavy hair sprawled like so damp moss, covering the entire ground, where countless pallid faces grew from the pitch-black tresses—so laughing wildly, others crying sorrowfully, and yet others cursing venomously.
Expressions differed on these faces, but what was hair-raising was that the faces growing from the black hair were all identical.
Many tents in the swamp had collapsed; so Cultivators had been wrapped within the hair and had passed out, their complexions deathly pale.
The more alert Cultivators had called forth their Flying Swords from beneath their tents early enough, allowing the tents to sink into the swamp as they executed Daoist Skills in the sky, their faces grim as they dealt with those stubborn strands of hair.
The river monunt, which could summon ferryboats, was already entangled and enveloped by hair.
The moonlight didn’t co from overhead but from the middle of the Chenyuan’s waters, mysteriously reflecting a cold moon from that piece of the sky.
The ghostly moonlight shone upon the pitch-black hair but failed to illuminate the river monunt.
Li Jiujiu clung to the edge of the carriage door, beholding the scene akin to a Purgatory of hair, her legs gave out with fear, she leaned on the doorfra and asked in a trembling voice, “What…
what happened?”
Fang Geyu’s gaze swept the surroundings before setting sternly on Li Jiujiu, advising, “Stay inside the carriage, don’t co down.”
Her expression was utterly calm and composed, nothing like the sheltered Immortal Sect’s young mistress that she was.
The hair spirits were extrely troubleso and malevolent, each strand of hair carrying a dreadful curse, and even the talented Cultivators from the Sea Expansion Realm were left shocked and helpless under this sudden onslaught.
A bunch of black hair suddenly surged towards Fang Geyu’s ear, as if trying to burrow into her brain.
“Get lost!” Fang Geyu shouted impatiently, twisting her head and staring straight at the mass of bizarre black hair, a trace of concealed golden light flashing in her eyes.
The attacking hair seed to be seized by so extrely terrifying presence and obediently recoiled.
However, Fang Geyu, with a grave expression, continued to search her surroundings, but still, she didn’t find the person she was looking for.
Panic started to show in her eyes; she clenched her teeth and murmured, “Where could this disobedient lead singer have gone?
Running around for no reason!”
Couldn’t he just stay obediently by her side?
In the swampy ground that no one dared to linger on, Fang Geyu leaped down from the jade carriage and drew her Longsword, slashing into the earth to uncover the Cultivators entangled by the hair spirits.
Those tightly wound up by the hair spirits often ended up cursed all over, and most had little chance of survival.
The number of hair spirits on the land was overwhelming; they seed to fear the presence within Fang Geyu, yet they were furious at her intrusion into their domain.
While they dared not treat her as they did other Cultivators, they were not willing to let her off easily.
The clumps of hair untangled themselves and beca individual sharp strands.
As she walked and saved people, those tender tresses sliced through the skin on her calves, tearing her trousers and boots, while persistent blood soaked through the light fabric of her clothes, leaving fine cuts on her snow-white skin.
So hair even sharpened like needles, broke through her skin, and burrowed inwards, like blood-thirsty leeches.
Dark, ominous blood seeped from the crimson cuts, the curse of the hair spirits.
Fang Geyu pretended not to hear, without even the ti to glance down as she walked hurriedly through the black sea of hair.
Li Jiujiu, seeing her like that, was on the verge of tears.
Although the Lihe Sect wasn’t as affluent as Shifang City, Li Xuan had cherished his late-born daughter since she was young, never having experienced such hardship and distress.
She watched the world that seed like the Cursed Land, nowhere near as strong and composed as Fang Geyu.
She was scared to death, yet she bit her lip and forced herself to speak with a trembling voice filled with sobs, “Geyu, don’t be reckless on your own; let help you.”
Fang Geyu halted her searching movents, turned around, and glared at her fiercely, “If you dare co down, I’ll imdiately tear your clothes to shreds and throw them into the hair spirit’s den—spare the effort of having to turn over your corpse later.”
Li Jiujiu was imdiately frightened, her voice even more nasal, “But you are bleeding.”
Fang Geyu scoffed mockingly, unable to hide the anger in her brows due to not finding Baili An, her sarcasm sharper than ever, “As if you don’t bleed once a month yourself.”
“…” Li Jiujiu was at a loss for words.
At last, the Longsword parted a clump of soaked hair, revealing a large swath of red fabric.
Fang Geyu froze for an instant, her face unspeakably dreadful.
She crouched, flipping the body over, her hands tearing forcefully at the hair enveloping it.
This person’s belly seed stuffed with hair, body and limbs swollen, completely unrecognizable from the original figure, fingernails bloody from struggling in agony, his face scratched raw.
Observing the bloody, unidentifiable features, with the pitch-black hair writhing within the flesh.
Her hand stiffened, then sowhat absurdly stroked the bloody, blurred face.
Her fair, fine fingertips beca stained with gri.
Fang Geyu’s pupils dilated, her beautiful eyes brimming with tempestuous waves, suppressed, silent.
All of her surroundings seed to distort along with the burrowing black hair.
Waves of darkness swept over her spirit platform.
At that mont, she almost forgot who she was.
The sheathed Longsword thrown on the ground trembled as if it could break free at any mont!
The calls of Li Jiujiu at her side felt incredibly distant.
Suddenly, she humd lowly, clutching her chest as if sothing was on the verge of breaking through!
Just then,
The sound of water surged.
By the Bishui Riverbank, in the deep and shadowy water, a muffled explosion resounded, as if a small volcano erupted underwater.
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