"Mother of mine..."
Zhu Tiedan let out a breath of relief, his body going limp as he slumped to the ground.
He had heard plenty of country ghost stories and seen spirit mediums and shamans work rituals, but an uncanny ordeal like tonight's was a first for him.
Yet beneath the terror, a spark of excitement stirred.
No wonder the gang leader buttered up Master Chen like that on ordinary days, ordering the rest of them to treat him with utmost reverence—promising six punctures from three blades for the slightest disrespect.
With a powerhouse like that backing them, what was there to fear?
If he fawned over the master as well, might he be taught some immortal art?
When that time came, if he fancied a pretty girl somewhere, he could drug and spirit her back home; if he saw a wealthy house, he could cast a spell to carry their riches off.
Wouldn't such a life be happy as an immortal's?
One could hardly blame the rogue for indulging in wild fantasies.
Xuanmen held the highest prestige across the jianghu. Not just anyone had a chance to brush against it, let alone a lowlife scoundrel like him.
What did he know of Xuanmen's myriad rules and taboos? Nor could he ever imagine that the benevolent-looking old Daoist in the City God Temple was the most terrifying person in all of Xianyang.
While Zhu Tiedan let his imagination run wild outside the village, on the other side, Zhou Peide followed close behind, fully prepared.
Flanked by several disciples clad in black and armed with spears and sharp blades, he guarded the official road leading toward Xianyang.
They waited only for Li Yan to be lured out, so they could swarm him and hack him to death.
Zhou Peide had stepped into hidden jin many years ago. Though his aptitude fell short of mastering transformative jin, his fascial membranes surged with force; every move and gesture was steeped in hidden jin, versatile and ever-shifting.
Such was the difference in cultivation once one entered hidden jin.
If an opponent attacked with hidden jin, he could neutralize and defend with equivalent force. Against those with shallower cultivation, if their breath hitched and their jin could not sustain itself, they would be battered to death on the spot.
In other words, he alone was enough to deal with Li Yan.
With a few helpers at his side, it was practically foolproof.
Sword in hand, Zhou Peide stood at the crossroads, murderous intent coalescing in his eyes as he waited for Li Yan to come chasing after, ready to butcher him without mercy!
***
The moonlight was hazy and sorrowful; Shangyi Village lay submerged in pitch darkness.
Rushing against project deadlines, everyone had labored from dawn till dusk. No sooner had the lamps been snuffed than they fell soundly asleep, snores rising one after another.
"Woof! Woof!"
A village hound seemed to sense something. Pricking its ears, it sprang up abruptly, but after barking only a few times, it laid back down.
At the corner of the street, a tiny puppet crawled through the darkness like a spider. Combined with its painted female-lead theatrical attire, it looked exceptionally grotesque.
The yin qi cloaking it seemed bound within the wooden frame, which was why the village dog had only noticed a stir without barking further alarm.
On an altar outside Xianyang, Chen Fakui sat cross-legged, eyes shut, hands forming hand seals as incantations poured steadily from his lips.
Guided by his direction, the puppet darted swiftly through streets and dark alleys, quickly arriving outside the Wan family's grand compound.
*Hum!*
Before it could draw near, a stone pillar at the entrance vibrated faintly.
This was a hitching post; almost every sizable household in Guanzhong had them before their gates.
Yet the Wan family's hitching posts were different. Atop them were carved small stone lions—antiquities dating back to the Qin and Han dynasties—with warding talismans buried underneath. Ordinary evil entities could not even approach them.
And that was merely the hitching posts.
On several brick carvings along the courtyard walls, characters such as "Glorify the Ancestors and Prosper Descendants" and "Build Virtue and Establish Fame" were inscribed in archaic, weathered script, likewise relics preserved from the Tang dynasty.
Furthermore, at the main door, side doors, central courtyard eaves, well, hearth, and privy, woodblock prints of deity portraits from Fengxiang were affixed—the veneration of the Six Household Gods that had endured since the ancient Zhou dynasty.
This was the grand residence of a Craftsman Sect family; how could it be simple?
Those antiquities had all been consecrated with incense offerings.
The uninterrupted worship of the Six Household Gods had already coalesced into divine astral qi.
Not to mention the Craftsman Sect Ancestral Hall situated in the rear courtyard.
The moment Li Yan arrived at the Wan family compound, he had sensed its extraordinary nature, which was why he felt secure enough to leave and drink with Zhao Lvzi.
On the other end, Chen Fakui before his altar had clearly anticipated this. Snapping his eyes open, he snatched a peach-wood sword from the table and affixed a talisman paper to it.
With his right hand formed into a seal, he jabbed forward.
*Whoosh—*
The yellow talisman paper burst instantly into roaring flames.
Enveloped in a haze of misty vapor, the wooden puppet skirted the front gate and reached a flank wall, scrambling up like a spider without disturbing any of the compound's protective arrangements.
Atop the courtyard wall, the puppet's stiff, painted face slowly emerged...
***
In the dark, Wang Daoxuan was fast asleep.
On the other bed, Sha Lifei snored loudly enough to shake the rafters, making it impossible for Wang Daoxuan to practice spirit preservation or even sleep in peace.
Yet there was no helping it. With recent work at a frenzy, nearly every room was packed to the brim, with many Craftsman Sect disciples squeezed side by side on communal brick beds.
As guests, having a private room was already generous treatment; how could they have the face to make further demands?
After two nights of this, coupled with the mental exhaustion of reading all day, Wang Daoxuan had drifted into a daze, trapped in a state of half-waking slumber.
Wang Daoxuan could not help feeling regretful.
Had he known, he would have followed Li Yan up the mountain—at least he would have found some quiet there.
*Thump, thump!* Suddenly, he heard knocking at the door.
Then came a call: "Daoist Wang, Daoist Wang..."
The voice was muffled, sounding somewhat like Li Yan.
This was the soul-calling art.
When ghosts and spirits called out to a person, it was not through foreknowledge, but by seizing upon vulnerabilities in the mind.
Just as Li Yan had worried for his grandfather and heard his grandfather's cries for help, Wang Daoxuan, thinking of Li Yan in his half-dreaming stupor, naturally heard Li Yan's voice.
"Oh, you're back?"
Wang Daoxuan rose groggily to answer.
Yet the moment the words left his mouth, a violent shudder ran through him, and his heart sank: *Damn it!*
Before he could react, Wang Daoxuan felt his body turn weightless. His vision went black, and with a heavy *thud*, he collapsed from the bed to the floor.
"Hm? Daoist... what's wrong?"
Startled awake, Sha Lifei scrambled off the bed to help him up, only to find Wang Daoxuan's eyes tightly shut, his jaws clenched, his fists clamped hard, completely insensible.
"Help! Somebody, quick!"
As shouts of alarm rang out, candle flames flickered to life one after another across the pitch-black courtyard...
***
Outside the village, Zhu Tiedan was idly plucking weeds by the roadside when he suddenly felt his body grow heavy. The cold chill seeped down his spine once more.
His entire body stiffened, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
Fortunately, having grown somewhat used to it, he was far bolder now. Recalling Chen Fakui's instructions, he dared not look back to check, vaulting straight onto his horse.
Shaking the reins, he spurred his mount into a gallop.
In less than the time it took an incense stick to burn, he spotted Zhou Peide standing along the road. Cupping his hands, he called out, "Third Master, the deed is done. I'll head on ahead!"
Catching sight of the wooden puppet clinging to the man's back, Zhou Peide's eye twitched. He hurriedly stepped aside to make way, then gazed into the distance after the galloping horse had faded, his eyes brimmed with anticipation.
A simpleton on horseback, Zhu Tiedan mistook Zhou Peide's apprehension for admiration of his own heroic stature tonight. Swelling with bravado, he spurred the horse faster until he reached the hillside outside the city.
Seeing everyone waiting for him, Zhu Tiedan grew even prouder.
Recalling the valiant heroes in operas who charged solitary into enemy camps, he leaped down from the saddle, marched forward in exaggerated operatic strides, dropped to one knee with hands clasped, and chanted in a theatrical cadence:
"Elder Brother, I have not failed my mission!"
With that, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed onto the ground with a dull thud, voiding his bowels and bladder.
And that puppet crawled up onto the altar like a spider.
Chen Fakui cast a nonchalant glance. "No matter. Borrowed a sliver of his human vital flame to breach the formation. He'll fall gravely ill once he's back. Keep him out of the wind and away from light, nurse him well, and he might pull through."
Yuan Qu could not care less whether Zhu Tiedan lived or died. Cupping his hands respectfully, he asked, "Master Chen, is that brat Li Yan dead?"
Chen Fakui shook his head faintly. "He wasn't there. But I bound the living soul of the Daoist at his side. There's no fear he won't come knocking."
With that, he picked up a gourd from the table, wedged its mouth into the puppet's open lips, formed a seal to draw the soul inward, then quickly stoppered the gourd and slapped a yellow talisman over it.
Only after finishing did he turn to ask, "How are matters progressing on your end?"
Yuan Qu hastily bowed. "In reply to the Master: the men we hired work swiftly. Everything should be gathered tonight. I have already sent men to collect the goods."
Chen Fakui nodded. Just as he was about to speak, his brows knit tightly.
*Whoosh—*
A gust of yin wind blew past, instantly setting the altar's candlelight flickering erratically.
An inexplicable dread seized Chen Fakui's chest. Hurriedly taking two crescent-shaped wooden implements from the altar, he held them in his hands, raised them to his brow, and bowed deeply before the deity statue.
These were divination blocks: convex on one side for yin, flat on the other for yang.
*Clatter!*
*Clatter!*
*Clatter!*
Cast thrice in succession, both blocks landed convex-side up every single time—double yin.
"Not good—the Patriarch warns us!"
Chen Fakui's complexion drained of color on the spot. In a frantic scramble, he swept up the ritual implements on the altar, blew out the candles, and tore down the yellow talismans.
Having done this, he hastily hauled a sack from beneath the wooden table, spun around, and barked, "Put out the fires and get over here beside me, all of you!"
Yuan Qu and his subordinates had no idea what was happening, but none dared question him, hurriedly crowding around the altar.
Chen Fakui took the lime, salt, and other unidentified powders from the sack and scattered them across the ground, drawing a massive circle around everyone.
That done, he snapped fiercely, "Keep your mouths shut! No matter what you see, not a word! If anyone makes so much as a peep, I'll slaughter him on the spot!"
*Whoosh—*
Hardly had his words fallen when gale-force winds howled in the distance, and the sky itself seemed to darken.
To their horror, Yuan Qu and the others felt the air plummet to a bone-chilling cold as a layer of white frost began creeping across the earth.
Then, dense clusters of footprints started pressing into the frost...
Chapter 63