"Ah... but why?"
Seeing Wang Daoxuan flatly refuse, Sha Lifei looked completely baffled.
Even Li Yan turned his gaze toward the Taoist.
Over this past period, he had learned a great deal about Xuanmen knowledge from Wang Daoxuan.
"Viscera consecration" had originally derived from Buddhism. Whenever an image of the Buddha was completed, symbolic internal organs were placed inside alongside various rites, endowing the effigy with greater spiritual presence.
The methods of viscera consecration were numerous; each school held strict lineages, and the process was intricate.
For instance, during the purification rites before consecration, the hollow interior of the statue had to be cleaned, fumigated with incense, sprinkled with safflower water, and finally purified with pine resin and frankincense.
From the selection of the central channel's core wood to the pairing of five-colored gems, and even down to the monks performing the rite, all manner of stringent rules had to be observed.
After Buddhism and Taoism took root across the Divine Continent, crafting statues inevitably required hiring knowledgeable craftsmen versed in Xuanmen arts, allowing such rituals to spread and flourish over time.
For if practiced properly, this method made it far easier to gather divine gang.
Yet Li Yan could not fathom why Wang Daoxuan was so wary of it.
Meeting their gazes, Wang Daoxuan stroked his beard and shook his head. "Viscera consecration to invite a deity is no great mystery in itself. Nearly every theatrical troupe does it. Some have passed down their rites for centuries, boasting flourishing incense and vigorous divine gang—they can perform for ghosts and deities during Ghost Festival without the slightest taboo.
"But this shadow puppet troupe that just arrived is downright bizarre.
"Xianyang is neither excessively large nor small, yet it already holds over a dozen troupes. If newcomers want to gain a foothold, they'll inevitably resort to extraordinary measures.
"Inviting a deity? I fear what they want to invite is something else entirely...
"Besides, shadow puppet troupes are a breed apart. Ordinary opera troupes worship Lord Laolang, but shadow puppeteers venerate the great Han Dynasty fangshi Shao Weng.
"Legend has it that when Emperor Wu of Han mourned his deceased Lady Li, Li Shaoweng fashioned a shadow puppet of her, painted it with colors, and fitted wooden rods to its limbs. At nightfall, he enclosed a square curtain and lit candles. Seeing her likeness, the Emperor was overjoyed. Ever since, this Xuanmen master Shao Weng became the patron ancestor of the shadow puppet craft.
"All theatrical arts originated from entertaining the divine. Shadow plays, in particular, are largely staged for making vows, fulfilling vows, praying for rain, offering sacrifices, or expelling evil. Performed during seasonal festivals, private banquets, temple fairs, weddings, and funerals, they are governed by myriad rules and taboos. If they invite something else, the trouble will only be greater.
"If something goes wrong, someone will surely die!"
At this explanation, the two understood at once.
Sha Lifei scratched his head and cursed under his breath, "That bastard! No wonder Old Dough was so eager to cozy up to me the moment I mentioned it—the other practitioners in town probably didn't dare touch it."
This scoundrel had skin thicker than a city wall; even after letting the truth slip, he wasn't bothered in the least. Rolling his eyes around, he grinned slyly. "Daozhang, look at it this way: they're the ones inviting the deity, so as long as we get the job done, whatever happens down the road has nothing to do with us..."
"Out of the question."
Wang Daoxuan shook his head resolutely. "My conscience will not allow it. If lives are truly lost, regret will come too late."
Li Yan also chimed in, "Let's do as Daozhang says."
From the moment they first met, he had seen what kind of person Wang Daoxuan was.
The Taoist possessed a sincere, upright heart; even when he needed to earn money, he insisted on doing so through righteous means.
For a man of the Xuanmen to end up in such dire straits, there was truly a reason.
Thump, thump, thump!
Just then, a knock sounded at the courtyard gate.
The three looked up and saw an elderly man with white hair and black robes standing outside the gate, knocking with one hand. Beneath his oiled-paper umbrella was a face etched with sorrow.
"May I ask, are you Daoist Wang?"
"Troupe Leader Zhou?"
Sha Lifei was puzzled at first, then his expression soured. "That 'Old White Flour' sure has a loose tongue. Troupe Leader Zhou, I reckon you tailed me the moment I walked out their door?
"Following me all this way without me noticing—quite the skill you've got..."
"Old White Flour" was an acquaintance of Sha Lifei and the suona player of the troupe.
Sha Lifei had not expected that he had barely mentioned the matter, before anything was even settled, and the troupe leader would already follow him right to their doorstep.
What embarrassed him even more was that he considered himself a seasoned veteran of the jianghu, yet he hadn't even realized he was being tailed. Wasn't this thoroughly humiliating in front of Li Yan and the Taoist?
Wang Daoxuan waved his hand to cut him off and addressed Troupe Leader Zhou earnestly, "Layman, this humble Taoist knows what you wish to do. But in your trade wandering the jianghu, one must rely on genuine craft. Borrowing the power of ghosts and spirits will only invite disaster in the end..."
"This old man understands."
Troupe Leader Zhou sighed, his expression turning even more bitter. "I only beg Daozhang to hear me out.
"This old man is Zhou Kangnian, and my troupe is called the Spring Breeze Troupe. We've been a century-old name in Huayin, having built up a modest family foundation. We hoped to make a name in Xianyang first before moving on to Chang'an.
"It is all the fault of my rebellious son. Ignorant of the treachery of the jianghu, no sooner had we arrived in Xianyang than he was lured into a crooked gambling den and racked up an enormous debt. Returning home unable to face anyone, he hanged himself in the dead of night.
"I spoiled him in ordinary times, so having white hair bury black hair is my own just deserts. But the young and old of our troupe are innocent! Yet the Iron Saber Gang has cornered us at our doorstep; until the debt is cleared, not a single soul may leave.
"I know how dangerous this is, and I am willing to bear the karmic consequences entirely on my own shoulders. If calamity strikes, let it claim only my life. I only beg to resolve our current catastrophe..."
Standing nearby, Li Yan's eyes gleamed with sharp light.
That old monkey Zhou Pan had numerous disciples, a thoroughly mixed bag.
Two among them had originally been street ruffians. After receiving true boxing instruction, they gathered the hoodlums and urban scoundrels of Xianyang, each establishing a gang of their own: the Iron Saber Gang and the White Ape Gang.
Backed by the Divine Fist Association, their power expanded relentlessly until they became the undisputed overlords of Xianyang's underworld, each occupying the eastern and western halves of the city. They ran protection rackets and monopolized trade through brute force—crooked paths that brought fast coin.
When the Divine Fist Association was founded, its charter had included shielding their neighbors from harm. But with these two disciples constantly paying generous tribute, that old monkey Zhou Pan turned a blind eye.
Whenever they offended colleagues in the jianghu, he would even personally step in to smooth things over.
Consequently, the two gangs grew increasingly arrogant and rampant by the day.
When the Spring Breeze Troupe first set foot in Xianyang, they had naturally been targeted by such predators.
Seeing Wang Daoxuan still hesitating, Troupe Leader Zhou dropped to his knees with a thud, old tears streaming down his face. "Daozhang, I beg you to lend a hand!
"I know a secret method that can concentrate all the ill fortune onto myself alone. As long as the young and old of the troupe can escape this calamity, I can die with no regrets!"
For Troupe Leader Zhou to follow Sha Lifei undetected, his martial skills were naturally respectable. He had already mastered hidden jin; though advanced in years with waning vitality, he was still a formidable practitioner.
Yet unexpectedly, he had been driven to such desperate straits.
"Old Troupe Leader, you are a righteous man."
Wang Daoxuan sighed. "I understand your intent. Circumstances drive men to extremes, leaving them no choice. But you must think this through carefully. If something goes awry, it will not be as simple as having your soul scattered to the winds."
Troupe Leader Zhou's face flashed with hope, and he gritted his teeth. "I still beg Daozhang to help us."
"No rush."
Wang Daoxuan did not agree immediately, saying calmly, "Let us visit your troupe first to assess the situation. Troupe Leader Zhou, please wait outside while we pack our things."
"Yes, of course, of course!"
Troupe Leader Zhou had seen his share of human nature and knew Wang Daoxuan was deliberately sending him out, but having secured his tentative agreement was already cause for immense gratitude; how could he dare press further?
The moment he stepped outside, Sha Lifei pulled a long face and whispered, "Aiya, Daoist master! Taboos regarding ghosts and gods are still far off, but wicked villains are right before our eyes!
"You refused earlier, so why agree now?"
Wang Daoxuan gave an awkward shake of his head. "Well... my heart softened."
Just as Sha Lifei opened his mouth to protest further, Li Yan spoke up from the side: "Since we want to make our name known, there's no reason to fear trouble. We can take this job!"
At these words, Sha Lifei immediately knew Li Yan probably wanted to use the Iron Saber Gang as an opening to target Zhou Pan. He could not help but lament inwardly.
One stubborn, the other reckless—he was truly cursed with terrible luck.
He was tempted to pack up and leave, but reflecting on a lifetime spent braving storms only to end up saddled with a mountain of debt, how could he bear to go back to being a leader of wheat reapers?
"Fine, let's do it!"
At that thought, he gritted his teeth and hardened his resolve.
"Hold on."
Wang Daoxuan waved his hand and said in a grave voice, "I once heard that within the shadow puppet tradition, there is an evil path that uses human skin to fashion puppets. When people are pushed to the brink, the difference between a Buddha and a demon lies in a single thought.
"Little Brother Yan, keep a sharp eye out when we get there. If they have already practiced sorcery, we turn right around and report them directly to the authorities!"
"Agreed."
Having made up their minds, the three packed their gear and stepped outside.
Troupe Leader Zhou was naturally overjoyed and led the way ahead...
……
Leaving the house under Troupe Leader Zhou's guidance, they wound their way through streets and alleys, arriving before long at the northwestern corner of Xianyang.
They were now near the Horse King Temple.
The temple enshrined Lord Ma, one of the Grand Marshals among the Xuanmen's Spiritual Officials; temples in his honor stood in many regions, enjoying thriving incense.
Naturally, this was also where horse permits were processed and where Xianyang's livestock market was located. After the rain, the ground was a muddy quagmire, and paired with the stench of livestock, the odor was thoroughly foul.
The wealthy households of Xianyang naturally could not stomach such a stench.
Consequently, those who dwelt here were mostly impoverished commoners.
For the Spring Breeze Troupe to be quartered in this place made it clear how destitute they were.
Guided by Troupe Leader Zhou, the three turned into an old alley where dilapidated dwellings lined both sides, foul water ran across the ground, and ancient bluestone pavers were caked in thick mud.
After walking a short distance, a large compound came into view ahead.
Judging by its appearance, it had once been an inn for carts and horses, though it had fallen into severe disrepair.
Over a dozen men stood scattered outside, all with thick, brutish faces and slovenly attire. Some were bare-chested to flaunt tattoos, while others wore flowers pinned to their small caps.
Every one of them concealed sharp weapons on their person, their speech crude and filthy.
Li Yan, however, came to a halt, a look of subtle amusement in his eyes.
The leader of these ruffians was actually an acquaintance.
None other than Meng Haicheng, who had previously suffered at his hands!
Chapter 31