Xiao Shan and the Persian Merchant seemed to have merged in that moment; the massive figure of Xiao Shan slowly bowed, awaiting her husband’s incantation, awaiting their eternal togetherness.

This wait for love had been agonizingly long. Consider our own lives: how many chances do we get to start over, how many moments of growing old together, how many joys and sorrows, and how many loves manage to linger between life and death, never to fade?

The love between Xiao Shan and the Persian Merchant, a devotion spanning a millennium, was now finally solidifying, as both had resolved to remain together forever, never to separate again, no matter the cost.

Everyone present, even the gods, were stunned into silence by this spectacle. A reunion after countless lifetimes, a connection rarely encountered. The Persian Merchant’s body began to dematerialize into light—what did this dissolution mean? It meant the essential energy and matter of a soul-form were beginning to separate. It implied that this millennia-long awaited reunion might be incredibly brief.

“Husband, no! Don't dissolve into light! I would rather just look at you like this, I would rather follow you, or I will follow this ring forever, staying with you always.” Xiao Shan’s cry had lost its melody, a depleted, ragged shriek that felt like knives tearing into the hearts and lungs of everyone watching. Sympathy for the two souls, a sense that their sacrifice was too much, welled up involuntarily in every normal heart present—pity.

“Xiao Shan, listen closely. The Crimson Moon Incantation is failing now. I have no choice but to borrow the energy from this ring to break the Crimson Moon Curse. This is exactly what our great Persian Sorcerer instructed me to do. There is no other way; only by sending my soul-form into the ring can I contain its malevolence, only then can I truly stabilize this harmful Crimson Moon Curse. You are my wife, I am your husband; this action is necessary.”

As the Persian Merchant finished speaking, the ring erupted, shooting brilliant five-colored light in all directions. The previously piercing red, the oppressive crimson, gradually faded, mingling with the other colors. Looking again at the motes of light generated by the Persian Merchant’s dissolving soul, they were slowly, particle by particle, drawn into the ring.

Xiao Shan’s soul-form also began to shrink. As she diminished, she clenched her teeth, forcibly stopping tears that threatened to flow like blood. Her soul-form started to glow, but the light it emitted was of a pure, yin-like crimson, always carrying a sense of desolate tragedy. Watching her soul-form enter the ring alongside the Persian Merchant’s, those who could perceive sensed that the Merchant’s light points consciously tried to shield Xiao Shan’s light points, but in the end, both streams of light were entirely absorbed by the five-gemmed ring.

The five-colored light began to retract. Slowly, the atmosphere transformed from one bristling with lethal intent to one thick with deep affection. This sudden, surprising harmony brought a fleeting warmth to those standing in the chill of early winter.

“It’s finally over…” Long Sheng emerged from the crowd at some unknown moment and let out a long sigh.

“It’s over!” Xiao He looked at the Eight Vajras on the platform, and at her own companions, finally letting out a breath of relief.

When Zhou Huan saw the ring’s light completely recede back into itself, miraculously, the ring floated directly into his hand. It felt slightly damp. Zhou Huan picked it up delicately: “These are their tears of happiness.” Then, Zhou Huan instinctively looked up toward the moon. The moon was now bright and pearly white, its soft moonlight genuinely refreshing to the spirit.

“Everyone… let’s go back. Everything is finished; we can pack up the stage!”

“Master Zhou, since your matter is concluded, it is time for us to return and report!” The Eight Vajras spoke in unison, as if they were performing a duet.

Zhou Huan felt an immense relaxation wash over him. Hearing the Vajras speak of reporting back, he casually asked, “Report? May I ask who issued the order?”

“Well…” The Vajras exchanged glances. “The Jade Emperor dispatched the Grand Supreme Elder, and the Grand Supreme Elder sent us. He only said to come and help you; he said nothing else.”

Zhou Huan suddenly recalled an event from a past life—a nighttime dream where the Elder Lao requested a ring from him, claiming it was one he had accidentally dropped into the mortal realm, yet it remained under the control of some malevolent energy. Could it truly be this ring? He looked down again at the artifact in his hand. He considered it again and again, but there was nowhere suitable to store it. Keeping it was too ostentatious and dazzling; giving it to the state as an exhibit might cause trouble later on. Therefore, Zhou Huan said, “Esteemed Vajras, perhaps it would be better if you take this ring back to the Elder. It serves no purpose here with me, but perhaps it will be useful to him.”

“Oh, that’s simple enough. Technically, we in the Celestial Realm never interfere with matters of the mortal or ghost realms, but since we came this far, carrying one more item back won't matter.” Saying this, the leading Vajra accepted the ring from Zhou Huan. With a flash of auspicious cloud beneath their feet, the Eight Vajras ascended together.

Zhou Huan watched them go for a long time. Mr. Old Wang had somehow crept up beside him: “Master Zhou, you’ve been staring blankly on the stage for ages, muttering about who gets the ring. Are you alright?”

“Ah?” Zhou Huan looked down; even his ceremonial robes as a Spirit Master had been removed, and the temporary stage they had erected was completely gone. “You’ve cleared everything? Oh, oh, nothing, nothing, we’re done here!”

Mr. Old Wang shook his head, mumbling, “Honestly, once the ritual is complete, it’s over, yet he’s still muttering. Look at how busy he’s kept you and your apprentices.”

Zhou Huan smiled inwardly. Generally, anyone whose eyes had passed over Zhou Huan’s talismans could clearly see ghosts. However, to actually see divine beings like the Vajras required a certain level of cultivation; otherwise, they remained invisible. During the ceremony on the stage, everyone else had seen eight empty platforms, but those within the array could clearly perceive the figures, as this was the first grand and orthodox formation Zhou Huan had deployed since emerging into the world.

Zhou Huan pressed his lips together; there was still a faint taste of blood in his mouth, residual from the backlash of blood flow during the confrontation. To this day, Zhou Huan didn't even know where that blood had come from.

“Brother, have some water. It was hot and tiring in such a short time,” Dong Zi complained. Then he added grumpily, “These tattered clothes, and wearing that hat, so hot! They all said my position was crucial, but I didn't do much—I just watched Brother Huan run around.”

“Don’t talk nonsense; you know nothing. If your position hadn’t been managed, it wouldn't have been a matter of me spitting up blood; you might be burning paper for me right now,” Zhou Huan said with stern gravity.

Dong Zi fell silent, his two small eyes blinking, staring at Zhou Huan, unable to speak.

Wang Xiaohe, holding a record file as was customary, looked at Zhou Huan with eyes full of feeling: “Brother Huan, please sign here. You’re the only one registered as a paranormal investigator in the entire district.”

Zhou Huan pulled the brush he always carried from his pocket, licked the tip, and signed his name on the document. After that, the entire scene was swiftly dismantled. The archaeology team resumed their normal work, and Long Sheng donated all his gold to the state.

But just as Zhou Huan and his group were about to walk into the Wang Fu Shou Hall, a dense mass of yin energy seemed to stir within the cemetery grounds, stealthily escaping with the breeze. Zhou Huan sensed it, but he was utterly exhausted and lacked the strength to stop it. He gazed toward the direction the evening wind was blowing, seeing only the slight rustle of treetops, after which everything became much calmer.

“Master, what are you looking at?” Bing Yuan, being the eldest, noticed Zhou Huan seemed preoccupied.

Zhou Huan shook his head. “Nothing. It felt like an itinerant spirit slipped away just now. It’s nothing important; let’s go back!”

“Master must be tired and seeing things. The whole situation was contained; how could there be any wandering spirits? Let’s head home!” Hong Kun was driving today. With a tap of the accelerator, he sped away, leading the few cars behind him, tearing toward the Fu Shou Hall like a shooting star.

Mr. Old Wang was the last to leave. Watching Zhou Huan’s receding back, he shook his head: “Zhou Huan, you’ve certainly earned your rest. Go back and recuperate properly this time. I hope you can rest for a good long while.”

The bright moon hung high, silver frost spread across the ground. Know that love is hard-won; cherish it, cherish it. May it last a hundred years, never depart through a thousand, and fear no hardship or danger!