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As Feng Xing ascended the stairs to the second floor, he could distinctly feel the fluctuations in the air. He didn't possess the same spiritual sensitivity as Yan Kongyue, but as the son of Ming Di and the future ruler of Difu, a few ghosts were nothing to him. Even if they tried to hide, they couldn't escape his grasp.
In truth, he could easily reveal their presence by unleashing his aura, but something felt different about the ghosts here. The scent lingering in the air and the eerie Gui Qi surrounding him were unlike any ghosts he had encountered before.
Like a treasure hunter, Feng Xing searched room by room. When he reached the sixth room, he spotted a short, round black shadow standing in the corner. Pretending not to see it, he scanned the room while secretly observing the ghostly figure.
The ghost had peculiar hair piled high on its head, its face completely white with two round red circles painted on its cheeks and matching red dots on its lips. It wore a traditional Japanese kimono and wooden clogs with soles at least half a meter thick.
Feng Xing felt a thrill of excitement; no wonder it felt different—this was a ghost from Winter Country.
The White Face Ghost thought Feng Xing couldn't see it and took a step forward. With a crunching sound, it stepped on something unknown. It knew that whatever it had stepped on shouldn't have made noise. Just as it was filled with doubt, Feng Xing smirked, lightly traced his fingers behind him, and softly uttered one word: "Freeze!"
The White Face Ghost was instantly bound by a powerful force. It tried to move but found itself utterly immobilized, its snow-white eyes rolling wildly as its face contorted in panic.
"Ugh, so ugly!" Feng Xing crossed his arms and took two steps to the left and two steps to the right, looking disdainfully at the White Face Ghost before him.
Suddenly, a chilling wind swept through the corridor, and a force surged toward Feng Xing like an unstoppable tide.
Without turning his body, Feng Xing formed a hand sign in mid-air and softly murmured three words: "Negotiation Technique!" A strand of silver-green light shot from his fingertips, rushing into the darkness.
The ghost lurking in the shadows didn't sense any danger; it dismissed the flickering green light as weak and unthreatening. However, it regretted that decision moments later when the green light made contact with it and exploded.
It was too late to escape; all it could do was unleash its final trump card. As the green light detonated, it shattered its soul into countless fragments that scattered in different directions like conscious shards.
"No! Trying to run!" Feng Xing's eyelids twitched; this was bad news.
"Chu Ling, appear!" A towering shadow over three meters tall materialized behind him with a resounding clang of a ghostly head.
"Here!" Chu Ling responded promptly and floated away. The sound of the ghost head echoed continuously; this weapon had already slain countless ghosts, and even its sound could terrify ordinary spirits into fleeing.
"Damn it!" While forming hand signs with one hand, Feng Xing muttered as he chased after it. He had underestimated this ghost; it had more tricks up its sleeve than he anticipated.
"Damn it! So it's Gathering Yin Technique!" Feng Xing fumed, quickly forming another sign and unleashing Withering Ghost Technique.
As Withering Ghost Technique activated, several of the fragmented ghosts closest to him instantly withered away, transforming into black smoke that was absorbed directly by Feng Xing.
Records from the underworld noted that Winter Country possessed a Gathering Yin Technique capable of refining souls and merging them. At most, one ghost could merge with up to ninety-nine smaller ghosts. These ninety-nine spirits could share abilities or disperse but would still be able to share power as long as they remained relatively close together.
The strength of such ghosts relied on consuming other spirits for sustenance. Once they reached a certain level of cultivation, they could even absorb living souls as food to replenish their energy.
Feng Xing did not dare to be negligent and released the pressure of Mingjie Prince. Suddenly, the surroundings fell silent; even the crickets ceased their chirping. For a brief moment, it felt as if the air had solidified, and the leaves of the climbing vine remained motionless. This was merely one-tenth of Feng Xing's power being unleashed.
The ghosts of Winter Country were also governed by the underworld, and the prince's pressure was not something an ordinary ghost could withstand. Although the White Face Ghost was immobilized, its soul remained unstable under the influence. If it weren't for being restrained, it would have likely melted into a puddle of mud by now, and this was only a fraction of the power emanating from Feng Xing.
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