As Xu Zimo walked toward him step by step, Xuan Ming’s eyes showed no panic, only deep hatred.

“Hahaha... I like that look in your eyes,” Xu Zimo said with a smile.

He raised his foot and kicked Xuan Ming hard, sending him flying.

Xuan Ming’s body slammed into the nearby Azure Dragon Blade, and at that moment, it felt as if his internal organs were about to burst.

He struggled to get back on his feet, but his body would no longer obey him.

“My friend, there’s no need to go so far,” Feilin called from above.

“The Celestial Sage Academy student Xuan Ming has already been spared once. Let’s just say this fight ends here, no hard feelings.”

“Do you want to come down and try?” Xu Zimo asked.

Feilin paused for a moment, then smiled faintly. “Suit yourself,” he said, and turned to leave.

“Oh? What’s this? Not in the mood to judge anymore?” Xu Zimo asked, then shifted his gaze back to Xuan Ming.

“You dare kill me,” Xuan Ming said coldly.

“Using my blade to touch your blood would only make it dirty,” Xu Zimo replied.

He lifted his right foot and, without an ounce of hesitation, stomped down hard between his legs.

There was a deafening crunch, like a watermelon bursting open.

Many onlookers flinched and shut their eyes instinctively.

“The show’s over,” Xu Zimo said, sweeping his gaze across the crowd. “Anyone else want to join this guy?”

Everyone took an involuntary step back.

Seeing no one dared answer, Xu Zimo leaped off the platform and said to Jiang Mozhi and the others, “Let’s go.”

Jiang Mozhi hesitated, wanting to persuade him otherwise, but in the end, said nothing.

“Lord Nocturne asked Xuan Ming to arrange our lodging,” Jiang Mozhi sighed. “Now that it’s come to this, how are we supposed to explain?”

“If you don’t mind, you can stay with me,” the white-robed woman beside them said suddenly.

“And you are?” Jiang Mozhi asked in confusion.

“Lan Canyin, disciple of the Revered Hall,” the woman replied.

“There are some empty quarters where you can rest for now.”

“Then we’ll trouble you,” Jiang Mozhi said quickly.

At this point, he had no other choice.

As for whether the Ghost God Collegium would punish them for Xuan Ming, that was left to fate.

The Ghost God Heaven was full of danger. Even the Ghost God Collegium couldn’t be called safe.

Having a place to stay was already a blessing.

The group followed behind Lan Canyin, walking deeper into the Ghost God Collegium.

“What’s your plan now?” Xie Changliu asked quietly, glancing at Xu Zimo.

“I’ll stay for a while,” Xu Zimo said. “Once I get familiar with the Ghost God Heaven, I’ll decide what’s next.”

To unseal the Primordial Demon Cave, he needed to gather the inheritances of the Nine Ancient Gods.

The Ghost God Heaven was vast, perhaps it held a clue.

And this was also the time to build strength; the Ten God-Clans and the Heavenly Court ahead were not easy opponents.

Following Lan Canyin, they entered an ancient courtyard.

From a glance, it was obvious the buildings were centuries old.

Row after row of decayed halls exuded a thick stench of age and rot.

In the center of the courtyard stood a White Bone Tree.

They said it had a white bone trunk, white bone heart, white bone bark, and white bone fruit.

The entire tree was formed from bones, and beneath it lay countless skeletons buried in the soil.

The skulls had green, eerie lights flickering in their hollow eyes, staring at the people passing by.

White bone fruits hung from the branches, humanoid in shape, like ginseng fruits, except made entirely of bone, without flesh or blood.

“Senior Sister Lan,” disciples passing by greeted her respectfully.

That alone showed her distinguished status, she was clearly not ordinary.

Lan Canyin nodded to each of them before stopping in front of a dilapidated house.

The roof sagged, and cobwebs draped thickly from above.

Looking up, they saw a huge spider crouched in the web, staring curiously at them.

“Little Meng, don’t scare our guests,” Lan Canyin said, waving the spider away.

“It’s lived here since it was small. It doesn’t hurt anyone, just a little mischievous,” she explained.

Xu Zimo nodded slightly.

Lan Canyin pushed open the creaking door. Inside, it was surprisingly clean.

“Don’t mind the old condition,” she said. “All of our Revered Hall’s buildings are like this, relics left behind from the ancient Ghost-God Apocalypse.”

“Having a roof over our heads is already more than enough,” Jiang Mozhi said with a weary smile.

If he’d known it would come to this, he thought, he might have stayed in the Mortal Ascension Heaven.

Xu Zimo looked around. The air was thick with divine power and ghostly energy, unseen, but filling the entire void.

“All right,” Lan Canyin said, clapping her hands. “You can stay here. No one will disturb you.”

Then she turned to Xu Zimo. “I’d like to spar with you sometime, learn a thing or two.”

Xu Zimo didn’t respond. Normally, he had no patience for such requests, but since she had arranged their lodging, it was a favor he couldn’t ignore.

Lan Canyin took a few steps, then turned back suddenly. “Oh, right, I forgot to warn you about one thing.”

“What is it?” Xu Zimo asked.

“You’re new to the Ghost God Heaven,” she said. “So you probably don’t know yet. Every night after eight o’clock, no matter what happens outside, do not leave your room. Ignore it. Don’t look, don’t ask, just remember those four words.”

With that, Lan Canyin left, leaving the group staring at each other in confusion.

Jiang Mozhi, who clearly knew something, explained, “That’s the peculiarity of the Ghost God Heaven. From morning eight to evening eight, you can move freely. But after eight at night, it becomes the time of the Ghost Gods. Anyone who interferes will be taken by them.”

“That terrifying?” one student asked in shock.

“The Ghost God Heaven is full of strange phenomena,” Jiang Mozhi said. “You’ll see soon enough.”

They all looked up at the sky.

Here, the heavens were always gray, unchanged and lifeless.

“But how are we supposed to tell day from night?” someone complained.

“There’s a kind of stone here called Spotted Jade,” Jiang Mozhi explained. “When it glows, it’s day. When it dims, night has come.”

“We’ll look for some later,” he added. “But by the looks of it, it’s about night already. Everyone should rest early.”

The group glanced back at the row of rooms behind them.

Each chose one to rest in, their injuries still severe, recovery was needed.

Xu Zimo returned to his room but didn’t sleep. Instead, he sat by the window, quietly waiting for the night to arrive.

The dim night breeze drifted gently outside.

The branches of the White Bone Tree, once still, began to sway slowly.

Bit by bit.

Until finally, they shuddered violently, and then wildly.

In the void, divine energy and ghostly aura began to clash chaotically.

They intertwined, and yet seemed to be at war with each other.