"Why are you two here?"
Hearing footsteps behind him, Li Yan spoke in a low voice without turning around.
From their scent alone, he knew it was Wang Daoxuan and Sha Lifei.
Worrying that something had gone wrong, the two had instructed the theatrical troupe to keep chanting scriptures while they rushed over to check on the situation.
"What is it?"
"A warrior spirit…"
Li Yan lowered his voice, giving a brief account of what had happened.
"A warrior spirit?" Wang Daoxuan was not surprised upon hearing this.
More than a decade ago, a great drought had struck Guanzhong, and the Maitreya Sect seized the chance to stage an uprising. The imperial court dispatched several armies to suppress them, and the ensuing clashes left rivers of blood. Many of the fallen soldiers had been buried right here in these mass graves.
His eyes flickered with uncertainty, and he ground his teeth. "A dog's bark can dispel evil spirits. The dirty trick pulled by the Beggars' Gang scared away every yin spirit in the vicinity, leaving only this one behind. This is our sole chance tonight. If we fail, not only will we face trouble heading down the mountain, but if we want to summon a deity again, we'll have to go elsewhere. Let it enter the ramparts first, and we'll see how it goes!"
Li Yan raised no objection. Wang Daoxuan was always prudent; if the Daoist dared to take this risk, it meant he had a contingency plan in mind.
Their minds made up, the three retreated along the path.
Wang Daoxuan and Sha Lifei ran ahead to prepare, while Li Yan stayed behind to draw the creature along with the scent of his living breath.
In the dark of night, the ragged corpse lurched forward in an awkward, zigzagging stagger, tripping over dry branches from time to time in an eerie spectacle.
The altar was scarcely a thousand paces away, but Li Yan's brow furrowed tighter and tighter.
The reason was simple.
With every step the corpse took, Li Yan could smell the surrounding yin sha qi being drawn to it. Blended with the warrior spirit's original baleful aura, the chill emanating from its body grew increasingly piercing. Even tens of paces away, he felt a biting cold seep into his bones.
*Not good,* Li Yan cursed silently.
If they didn't reach the altar in time, this thing was going to transform into a walking corpse!
A human possesses three ethereal souls and seven corporeal souls. Souls belong to yin while the flesh belongs to yang; the three ethereal souls are yang, whereas the seven corporeal souls are yin. When yin and yang harmonize, each abides in its proper place.
After death, yin and yang sever and part. The seven corporeal souls disperse first, and the three ethereal souls depart after. Once the ethereal souls depart, they take form in the intermediate state; if a mishap prevents them from entering the Netherworld, they become yin spirits, wandering ghosts. Meanwhile, the seven corporeal souls belong to yin and the earth. If they fail to scatter and linger within the vessel, they absorb the yin sha qi of the earth veins, preserving the corpse from decay to wreak havoc.
That beggar's seven corporeal souls had not yet dispersed before the warrior spirit seized his flesh. Returning to life was an impossibility; it would only become a ravenous corpse.
At the thought, Li Yan quickened his pace.
Fortunately, the dead body behind him sped up as well.
Finally, just as the corpse let out its very first guttural roar, they reached the clearing of the Old Yin Coffin, where the yin sha gathered into a palpable force.
Here, a fire burned paper ingots and ghost money.
By this dim, wavering light, everyone could see the dead body trailing behind Li Yan: its face was frozen a deep, bruised blue, black blood oozed from its seven facial orifices, and its limbs were rigid as it walked on tiptoe.
The sight was thoroughly chilling.
Despite Wang Daoxuan's prior warnings, the members of the Spring Breeze Troupe turned deathly pale. Thankfully, none dared to flee. Still kneeling on the ground with three sticks of incense held high, they silently chanted their invocations to invite the spirit.
And at last, a shift occurred in the corpse.
Its attention turned from Li Yan toward the altar. It stepped forward on its toes, only to spin in place, as if unable to find its bearing.
Even yin spirits and fierce ghosts possessed distinct cravings.
Some preferred flesh and blood, hunting the scent of living mortals; others favored the smoke of incense.
Only those who favored incense could be enshrined as a Yin deity.
*There's hope!*
Wang Daoxuan's eyes lit up. He immediately broke into gang steps, moved away from the altar, spun midair, and stretched out his right foot as he landed.
*Chhh!*
A streak carved through the dirt, severing the three concentric ramparts of incense ash like opening a city gate to welcome an honored guest.
*Whoosh—*
In an instant, an ominous yin wind whipped into a fury.
Li Yan caught the scent of an icy, coppery stench of blood erupting from the beggar's corpse, and the body collapsed to the ground.
The scent spiraled forward, surging toward the altar.
Though the others could not see it, the hair on the backs of their necks bristled without warning, and the surrounding temperature plummeted by several degrees.
Immediately after, a wondrous sight unfolded before their eyes:
As the yin wind blew past the brazier of burning ghost money and paper ingots, ashes and embers spun together into a furious whirlwind, cutting through the gap in the ash ramparts like a miniature tornado. Only when it drew near the altar did it abruptly dissipate.
Li Yan could smell that cold, bloody stench burrow directly into the wooden idol through the altar, greedily devouring the scent of burning incense.
He waved his hand at once to signal. Wang Daoxuan was quick of eye and deft of hand, pulling out the pre-mixed white plaster paste made with incense ash and sealing the opening at the bottom of the idol in a single motion.
*Buzz, buzz, buzz!*
The wooden idol shuddered violently upon the square table several times before falling completely still.
"It has arrived!" Wang Daoxuan lifted the statue high and shouted.
Already prepared, the members of the Spring Breeze Troupe cried out in unison, "We receive the deity!"
Troupe Leader Zhou hoisted the wooden crate onto his back and opened it, revealing a neat little shrine nestled inside. Wang Daoxuan placed the idol within, latched the crate securely, and draped it in red cloth before waving his hand to urge everyone to make their retreat.
Sha Lifei rushed forward to help gather the incense burner, water jar, soul-calming bell, and other ritual implements. He extinguished the brazier, abandoned the makeshift square table, and turned to leave.
These ritual tools had been consecrated through years of offerings before ancestral altars. Though crafted from ordinary materials and far inferior to Li Yan's Three Powers Demon-Suppressing Coins, they had cost Wang Daoxuan immense effort, and he could not casually discard them.
The descent proved even harder. The group stumbled down the mountain path, not a single soul daring to glance back. Troupe Leader Zhou found the heavy crate particularly grueling, yet he moved with utmost care, terrified of slipping and shattering the idol. Fortunately, having practiced martial arts, his stance was rock-steady, and he made the descent without a single mishap.
As for Li Yan, he brought up the rear.
Wang Daoxuan had instructed him that if he smelled anything approaching to harass them, he must not look back; he should simply activate the Three Powers Demon-Suppressing Coins to frighten it off.
Yet strangely enough, until they reached the base of the mountain, nothing unusual stirred behind them.
The members of the Spring Breeze Troupe sighed with relief, collapsing onto the ground one after another.
This night had worn them down to the bone.
Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, Sha Lifei chuckled. "Daoist, you were far too cautious. Look, didn't everything turn out fine?"
"What do you know!" Wang Daoxuan looked back up at the mountain, his expression clouded with suspicion.
Li Yan spoke up as well. "Don't worry, Daoist. Those beggars unleashed their hounds and scared off all the wandering ghosts in the area. Even if any came to harass us, we could have handled them."
"It's not wandering ghosts I fear…" Wang Daoxuan shook his head slightly, keeping his voice hushed. "Wherever primordial gang qi and sha qi gather in mountains and rivers, mountain gods and river lords are very likely to hold domain. Such yin souls and ghostly soldiers are typically kept under their command to prevent them from roaming wild—they are effectively their spirit soldiers. By summoning this deity, we've practically abducted one of their subordinates. They naturally should have intervened, especially for a warrior spirit like this one. This burial ground has stood for many years; it's truly strange that no mountain god governs it…"
Sha Lifei scratched his head. "Well, the Yin deity has already been summoned, so why fret over all that? Let's hurry back. Once we're in Xianyang, a steaming bowl of mutton soup will drive the chill right out of us."
"Fair enough. You're making this poor Daoist hungry."
"Daoist Wang, this meal is on me!"
"Now that you folks have invited your Yin deity, best hurry home. Remember: keep the incense burning without fail every morning and evening, and offer sacrifices on the first and fifteenth of every month…"
"Rest easy, Daoist, we've committed it all to heart…"
Gathering their spirits, the group hurried along and soon melted into the darkness.
What they did not know was that shortly after they left the mountain, blazing torches flared through the dense forest as a crowd of beggars arrived, clustering around their chieftain, Master Shan.
Looking at the corpse on the ground, the rotund Master Shan reached out to touch it, only to yank his hand back at once. With a dark scowl, he ordered, "Burn this corpse, or there won't be any peace on this mountain."
"Master Shan, four or five of our good fighters were killed."
"Those bastards ran fast…"
Several beggars nearby glared viciously toward the foot of the mountain, murder in their eyes.
Master Shan, however, had regained his composure. Patting his greasy belly, he said, "I thought they were all just posers putting on a show. I got careless. Send word to the Iron Saber Gang. Their intelligence was faulty, so these lives fall squarely on their heads. If they don't find these people for me, this matter won't end! Also, have men keep an eye on that bunch. Don't provoke them recklessly. Wait for the right chance, then we'll make them pay!"
"Understood, Master Shan!"
……
There was no shortage of mutton soup shops in Xianyang.
To gain a foothold here, one needed real skill; otherwise, the doors would close in a matter of days.
Past the Horse King Temple on Old Wei Street stood such an establishment, known as Old Wu's. Passed down through several generations, it had weathered wind and rain for nearly a century.
Its massive soup cauldrons were never allowed to cool.
Each day at closing, embers were banked beneath them, and fresh lamb spines were simmered the next morning. The milky-white broth and fresh, savory flavor were widely renowned.
What earned the shop even greater praise was that it never forgot its roots.
Some old establishments, the moment they gained a bit of fame, would hastily renovate to make everything look grand and lofty, aiming solely to squeeze silver from high officials and noble lords. Old Wu's, on the other hand, maintained its spacious open storefront. Several great cauldrons sat outside, brimming with boiling, rolling mutton broth, while long tables and benches stretched from inside the shop right out onto the street.
Crucially, the prices had remained unchanged for decades, and the food was impeccably clean.
Because of this, a crowd could always be found squatting there at any hour, enjoying bowls of hot broth.
Wang Daoxuan and his two companions had already downed three bowls each and eaten four or five guokui flatbreads. Only when sweat beaded on their foreheads did they set down their bowls, feeling as though their souls had finally returned to their bodies.
By now, dawn had broken, and the street was growing lively with pedestrians.
Watching the steady stream of common folk, mules, and carts, Sha Lifei felt as though the previous night had been nothing more than a bizarre dream. He sighed. "Curse it all, I'm starting to regret this. Daoist, are all our jobs going to be this life-threatening from now on?"
"Hardly," Wang Daoxuan said with a chuckle. "Ordinary sorcerers wouldn't have dared take on last night's situation. Since we pulled it off, word will spread soon enough. In the future, we'll take on safer jobs, and all you'll have to do is run errands."
"That's a relief. Are you sure?"
"Of course."
"Why does that sound so hollow coming from you…"
As the two traded banter, a man walked over from the distance.
He had a short, stout frame, wore a black jacket and a square cap, and possessed a pair of dead-fish eyes that looked entirely devoid of spirit.
Arriving before the three, he smacked his lips.
"Which one of you is Li Yan?"
Li Yan set down his bowl and cast a sideways glance. "I am."
The dead-eyed man stared at him, looking him up and down before scoffing, "A wet-behind-the-ears brat, barely stepped into the jianghu and already wagering his life against others. What a joke. If you want to fight in a life-and-death match, do you even know the rules?"
Chapter 38