The moment the hundred purple characters appeared,
they immediately surrounded Wei Zhichun’s body, forming a protective layer.
At the same time, the saintly dharma image behind him became more solid,
and even began to shine with dazzling purple light in front,
right where the "Wendan" — the literary talisman — resided.
Ye Yu frowned slightly, whispering, “Wendan?”
Hearing the word,
a proud smile appeared on Wei Zhichun’s face.
“That’s right, it’s the Wendan!
You ghost creature have some knowledge after all!
The Jixia Academy records that those who are just and unafraid of power, and whose literary aura reaches the heavens,
can cultivate the Wendan.
As far as I know, across the Six Realms, only three people possess the Wendan.
Two of them are the first and second literary saints.
The third is me!”
Wei Zhichun spoke with endless pride.
With a thought, the saintly image behind him raised its right hand,
gathering the hundred purple characters into its palm.
It suddenly slammed down, completely extinguishing the black flames before it.
Wei Zhichun folded his hands behind his back, confident and smug,
completely ignoring that the saintly image behind him had become blurred after extinguishing the flames.
Ye Yu watched Wei Zhichun for a long time,
then suddenly said, “No, absolutely not.
That thing of yours is definitely not the Wendan!
The Wendan shouldn’t look like that!”
Faced with the challenge, Wei Zhichun shouted fiercely,
“Impudent! I thought you had some insight and was going to spare your life.
But you dare to question my Wendan?
Ridiculous!
Have you seen the Wendan? Don’t think you can blabber after reading a few ancient books!”
“I haven’t seen anyone else’s Wendan, but I have one myself!
That’s why I say your Wendan is wrong!”
Ye Yu slightly raised his head, and suddenly a golden light shone from his chest.
In an instant, a brilliant radiance shot straight to the sky.
Behind Ye Yu appeared one saintly image after another.
Countless characters appeared, circling him.
The sound of reading was faint but audible.
Compared to the gloomy purple dharma image behind Wei Zhichun,
Ye Yu’s images appeared righteous and upright.
Moreover, after their appearance,
an invisible force enveloped the area.
Wei Zhichun and Fan Jiangmi, both ghosts, felt extremely oppressed.
Their ghost aura seemed suppressed, and even their energy could not flow freely.
But this mysterious force did not affect Ying Naiyan, who was closest.
She looked at the sky in confusion, only feeling inner peace.
As time passed,
more and more saintly images appeared behind Ye Yu until golden light filled the sky.
The saintly images behind Wei Zhichun completely shattered.
Not only that, the purple light before him also dimmed completely.
A broken voice suddenly sounded.
Wei Zhichun knelt on one knee, clutching his chest with a pained expression.
Just as Ye Yu said,
his Wendan was indeed wrong.
To be precise, it was not a true Wendan,
but something formed by secret arts and obsession, resembling a Wendan.
After many years of nurturing,
it could provide some power like a Wendan.
But it was utterly sinister.
Now, confronted with Ye Yu’s genuine righteous Wendan,
this fake Wendan exploded like it met its natural enemy,
causing Wei Zhichun to suffer serious backlash.
He looked at Ye Yu in disbelief,
gazing at the coveted Wendan with a gradually contorted expression.
“Impossible! Absolutely impossible!
How can you possess the Wendan? Why do you have it?
I’ve studied for thousands of years, with knowledge reaching the heavens and an overwhelming literary aura.
I still can’t cultivate the Wendan—why can you? Why?!”
Wei Zhichun was mad with rage.
All scholars knew the great significance of a Wendan.
It was not just the highest title of literary aura in this era,
but also the possibility of becoming a saint.
One could found a sect and become worshiped by countless students.
This was the highest honor dreamed of by all scholars.
Wei Zhichun had sought it all his life without success.
Now watching someone else possess it was a fatal blow to his pride.
He struggled to rise and kill Ye Yu to seize the Wendan,
but the backlash had injured him badly.
His energy flowed poorly.
His strength was barely a tenth of his normal.
Even standing upright took great effort.
Ye Yu saw all this clearly.
He snorted coldly, “There is no such thing as impossible!
Those words ‘knowledge reaching the heavens, overwhelming literary aura’ aren’t something you just say.
They must convince others.
Moreover, you’re just a mere ghost—how could you deserve the Wendan?”
Hearing this,
Wei Zhichun trembled and was shocked.
“You... you’re not a ghost?”
Ye Yu did not answer the question, instead slightly raising his head.
He loudly declared, “Purge evil!”
At that instant,
the numerous saintly images behind him turned,
facing Wei Zhichun.
One by one, they recited ancient texts,
forming golden characters that fiercely attacked Wei Zhichun.
Seeing this,
Wei Zhichun did not resist,
even spreading his ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) hands to receive the words.
“To have fallen into the Underworld for two thousand years, yet still hear the voice of the saints.
How fortunate I, Wei Zhichun, am!
Boy, I don’t lose to you! I lose to the saints!
Had I survived by chance,
the Wendan would never have fallen to you!
Hahaha!!!”
As the golden characters covered Wei Zhichun’s body,
his soul and body were completely dissolved by the way of literature and the saints’ words.
Yet Wei Zhichun died with a smile.
Perhaps to him, death was trivial,
but face was everything.
He could accept defeat but never that he was inferior in literature.
Ye Yu’s possession of the Wendan was simply because he was not a ghost.
If Wei Zhichun had lived,
the Wendan would only be his!
Perhaps this was Wei Zhichun’s greatest consolation.
With his death,
the saintly images behind Ye Yu dissipated completely.
Killing a nonresisting Ghost King Realm expert was already extremely taxing.
All this completely overturned Fan Jiangmi’s worldview.
What was going on?
The Underworld scholar Wei Zhichun had just died?
And at the hands of an unknown young man?
Wait!
No, this young man was not unknown—he wasn’t even a ghost in the Underworld.
Yes, definitely.
Otherwise, how could he summon so many saintly images?
One must know that the vast righteous aura of saints naturally restrains ghosts.
With Wei Zhichun dead,
this place must not be lingered in.
Thinking this, Fan Jiangmi turned and fled.
