A Pretext of Righteousness

"Brother Liang, let's go. We need to hurry and call the police." Tan Wenbin tugged at Xue Liangliang. He had vaguely guessed what Xiaoyuan planned to do. When they first met, he had called the boy "Brother" half out of respect for a child prodigy and half in jest. Yet ever since he saw the boy risk blinding himself with bleeding eyes just to take revenge, and after seeing the shredded corpses of the dwarf father and son floating on the river, the "Brother" in his address carried a deep reverence. It truly couldn't be helped. A high school student whose idea of violence was ordinary schoolyard scuffles had suddenly encountered such a ruthless figure—one who usually loved putting on an adorable, harmless front. "Xiaoyuan, whatever you do, you have to make sure you stay safe. Understand?" "Mm, I will, Brother Liangliang." Xue Liangliang and Tan Wenbin left. Li Zhuiyuan walked to the edge of the cliff, stood on tiptoe to peer down, and asked, "Brother Runsheng, can you do it?" Runsheng bent down, signaling the boy to climb onto his back. Then Runsheng straightened up, turned his back to the cliff, and warned, "Xiaoyuan, hold on tight!" "Okay." Li Zhuiyuan wrapped his arms around Runsheng's neck. Runsheng pressed his left hand against his chest, gripped the steel pipe firmly in his right hand, and took a deep breath. Then he jumped backward. After falling a short distance, he drove the steel pipe into a rock fissure. The muscles in his right arm tautened as his waist exerted force, leaving him hanging almost completely straight against the cliff. Then he yanked the pipe free, fell farther, and plunged it in again. Li Zhuiyuan felt as if he were riding a pirate ship amusement ride, though this was infinitely more dangerous. Extreme athletes abroad at least wore safety ropes; Runsheng relied entirely on a single pipe. Li Zhuiyuan even suspected that even without the pipe, Runsheng could scale down the cliff with his bare hands. It made sense. With Brother Runsheng's terrifying appetite, he hadn't grown fat in the slightest; all that food had clearly been converted straight into brute strength. Down they went, section by section. Whenever there was no suitable rock crevice to jam into, he dropped a bit farther to find one. Near the bottom, seeing that the remaining height was manageable, Runsheng let go entirely. Just before hitting the ground, he kicked off the cliff face twice with one leg to cushion his descent. As he landed, he staggered back several steps, spun around to keep Li Zhuiyuan on top, and ended up sprawled face-down on the ground. "Xiaoyuan, are you all right?" "I'm fine. That was pretty thrilling." Li Zhuiyuan climbed off Runsheng's back. Runsheng stood up as well, brushing twigs and dirt from his clothes. The boy knew that without him as baggage, Runsheng wouldn't have landed so awkwardly. This was raw talent. Li Zhuiyuan had no doubt that if someone properly trained Runsheng, he would eventually be no weaker than Uncle Qin. The boy had no sectarian bias or moral squeamishness. After all, he had studied the feng shui secrets of both the Qin and Liu families. Yet the horse stance and breath-control methods Uncle Qin had taught him were impossible to pass on to Runsheng. Those required an expert to personally calibrate muscle exertion and adjust breathing. The routine he practiced now was tailored strictly to himself; teaching it to Runsheng might do more harm than good. He could only hope that once Ah Li recovered and they saw Uncle Qin again, he could ask Uncle Qin to instruct Runsheng. The courtyard wall of the ancestral hall wasn't high. Runsheng climbed up first, hooked his legs over the top, leaned down, and hauled Li Zhuiyuan up. The two slipped over the wall. Unlike when they were in the spatial seam—where there had only been the four of them and kicking down doors didn't matter—making a loud noise now would awaken the entire village. The doors to the ancestral hall were closed, meaning villagers had visited. Stepping into the inner hall, they found fresh offerings laid out on the offering table. The ghost scare in the village over the past few days must have rattled the locals. Having the hall doors kicked open by "ghosts" implied the ancestors had been disturbed, so naturally they had rushed here to pray for protection. "Xiaoyuan..." Li Zhuiyuan smiled. "Go ahead and eat." "Alright!" Runsheng climbed onto the offering table, grabbed the offerings with his right hand, plucked a thick, half-burned incense stick from the incense burner with his left, and wolfed them down. He was truly starving. He had eaten a bellyful of wild grass at noon and dried corn in the afternoon. Even a mill mule wasn't fed this poorly. Of course, he had had other ways to replenish himself. For instance, he had eaten only that single piece of cured meat Binbin brought from the house and hadn't gone back for more. As for the corpses in the pool, while they hadn't turned into dead-flippers and their flavor wasn't as rich, they weren't inedible. He was holding back. First, he didn't want to ruin his image in front of Xiaoyuan; second, he hadn't truly reached the end of his rope. Li Zhuiyuan took some offerings and nibbled on them as he paced the hall. There was still plenty of time before dawn, and even after sunrise, the villagers were unlikely to come here early. Time was on his side. After conducting another detailed inspection and analysis, Li Zhuiyuan couldn't help but sigh in admiration. "The ancestors of the Qi clan were extraordinarily skilled." When building a mausoleum, unless you were a minor warlord, you had your pick of dragon veins and an endless supply of labor. Even at the end of a dynasty, no matter how impoverished the imperial court was, funds would be squeezed out for the project. Thus, botching a mausoleum made you incompetent, while building a good one was merely meeting expectations. Yet out here in a secluded mountain hollow, under such primitive conditions, to craft such an exquisite layout was a remarkable technical feat. Between mouthfuls, Runsheng asked in confusion, "Then why was their home base stolen by outsiders with a different surname?" Li Zhuiyuan shook his head. "In this world, how could feng shui ever solve everything once and for all? If that were true, those dynasties would never have fallen." The boy tapped his forehead lightly. The better this feng shui formation was, the harder it would be for him to alter it. He would likely have to overtax himself again. But having made his decision, he wouldn't turn back. The advantage was that by modifying the existing foundation and using materials on hand, the physical work would be quick and simple once he drafted the design. Li Zhuiyuan turned to Runsheng and saw him peeling a sweet potato before eating it. He remembered back on the train when he bought roasted sweet potatoes, Runsheng had peeled them while fretting over how expensive they were. "Brother Runsheng, I think the skin tastes good too." Runsheng said, "Back when my family had no food and only sweet potatoes, my grandpa told me never to eat the skin. You have to leave a little behind so life feels like it has something ahead. Xiaoyuan, I'm full." Runsheng hopped off the table and patted his bulging belly. "Heh, this will keep me going for a long time." "Brother Runsheng, over here, here, and here..." Li Zhuiyuan assigned him tasks—either taking down copper coins and bronze swords from the eaves or swapping their positions, or digging up pavers in the courtyard to rearrange them. Maintenance tools were kept in the corner of the hall, which were perfect for the job. They only had to keep the noise down. These were merely peripheral tasks, not difficult but time-consuming, so he set Runsheng to them first. The core alterations lay on the three pebble walls. Shifting just a few pebbles would reverse the entire effect. This wasn't because Li Zhuiyuan was brilliant, but because the Qi clan's ancestors had mastered their craft so thoroughly that laying out a grand formation was as easy as cooking a small dish. Runsheng picked up the tools and got to work. Li Zhuiyuan pulled over a long bench, sat in the center of the hall, closed his eyes, and began his deductions. Yet as soon as he started, his head throbbed with dizziness, and a dry, stinging pain flared at the corners of his eyes. Last time, he had only performed a surface reading, deciphering the mosaic message meant for descendants. Now, he was conducting a deep analysis of their underlying techniques, which was an entirely different level of difficulty. As he calculated, Li Zhuiyuan felt his nose begin to run. Without opening his eyes, he slid off the bench, lay flat on the floor, and continued his deductions. Soon, "tears" welled up as well, but he couldn't spare the effort to wipe them away. Eventually, a piercing pain seized his skull, and irritation began to creep in. The deeper he calculated, the more unfathomable mysteries he uncovered. In the past, he would have jumped for joy, taking his time to digest it bit by bit like slicing a sausage. But now, he was caught on the horns of a dilemma. Li Zhuiyuan opened his eyes and wiped the blood from the corners with his sleeve. He couldn't keep brute-forcing this calculation. He had overestimated himself and underestimated the ancients. He had to change his approach, or he would blind himself again. Since this was an ancestral hall and ancestral instructions were preserved on the walls, could he simulate the perspective of a Qi descendant to observe and learn? This was akin to taking a shortcut—skipping the exhaustive proofs and just memorizing the formulas. Yet when he actually adopted that perspective, Li Zhuiyuan discovered to his surprise that the path worked. The pebbles across the three walls rearranged themselves into a new message in his mind. Clearly, this was a message left by the ancestors for worthy descendants. The standard for "worthy" was rather generous, suggesting the ancestors had long anticipated a decline in their lineage's skill. The new message was divided into three sections. Because it wasn't recorded in plain text, it could only be grasped through intent rather than written down. The first section stated that any descendant capable of reading this could obtain a set of notes. The location was recorded below: beneath a specific brick in the ancestral hall. After reading, it was to be returned for future generations. The second section explained that this location was a wondrous land containing a boundary, half real and half illusion. It was precisely because of this unique trait that they had chosen this site for seclusion. Below were instructions on how to induce entry into that realm and the location of the exit. The third section stated that if the clan met with disaster and was forced to relocate, they could alter the site's feng shui layout. Below were the specific methods for doing so. Li Zhuiyuan smiled in relief. Luckily he had switched approaches; the ancestors had already laid out the answers right here. It was truly ruthless. Whether descendants left voluntarily or were driven out, they could alter the feng shui so that no subsequent occupants would benefit, even laying down a dreadful curse on whoever usurped their nest. Yet clearly, the Qi descendants hadn't done so. Whether events had unfolded too suddenly back then or their skills had deteriorated so far that none met the standard of "worthy" to read the message, no one knew. Li Zhuiyuan called Runsheng over, pointed out a specific brick according to the instructions, and signaled him to pry it up. Runsheng drove a small trowel into the seam, pressed down, and quickly loosened the brick. Digging deeper, he pulled out a box. With a racing heart, Li Zhuiyuan opened the box, only to frown. The box was empty. Someone must have taken it without returning it. Most likely, a Qi descendant had retrieved it without honoring the ancestor's intent that future generations earn the right through their own skill. One could only say that ancestors had their ideals, while descendants faced their realities. The notes had either been lost during whatever catastrophe befell the Qi clan, or they were buried in some Qi grave on a nearby hill. What a shame. Li Zhuiyuan felt a pang of regret. When the Qi ancestors chose to live here in seclusion, it was because of the natural spatial seam. For people of such profound skill, the notes they left behind must have been priceless. The method to enter the spatial seam was simple: within the surrounding area, one only needed to artificially suppress their three life-flames to enter automatically. In other words, bringing misfortune upon oneself. The exit was located at the Taiji symbol in the ancestral hall. The little girl following them from the train had inadvertently provided the prerequisite for the four of them to enter. He should have been fine, but because he was deeply entangled with Xue Liangliang's group, he had been swept in along with them—just like the steel pipe in Runsheng's hand. Still, those Qi ancestors were absolute madmen. To study this spatial seam, they hadn't hesitated to damage their own three life-flames, embodying the attitude of "hear the Dao in the morning, die content in the evening." If the ancestors played like that, it was no wonder the clan's lineage saw a steep decline. The more talented one was, the faster they died. "Brother Runsheng, is the outside work done?" "Done just as you asked. But Xiaoyuan, are you alright?" Runsheng had clearly noticed the dried blood on the boy's face. "I'm fine. I won't go blind this time." Li Zhuiyuan pointed to a green pebble on the east wall, then to a black pebble on the west wall, and was just about to point to the north wall when... A tremendous sense of crisis slammed down upon him. His eyelids fluttered uncontrollably, and his heart pounded wildly. The boy was forced forward, dropping to his hands and knees on the ground. He had an overwhelming premonition: if he pointed to that red pebble on the north wall and told Runsheng to pry it out and swap them, terrible misfortune would inevitably befall him. "Xiaoyuan?" Li Zhuiyuan stood up and walked to the doorway. He picked up one of the bronze swords Runsheng had taken down from the eaves. The blade was polished smooth, and by the moonlight, it faintly reflected his face. He began to read his own physiognomy. In an instant, Li Zhuiyuan felt the world spin, and he collapsed to the floor. He had broken the taboo against reading his own fortune again, but he had had no choice. The result was that his current countenance was vastly worse than what the red-dressed girl had inflicted on Brother Liangliang's group. Brother Liangliang and the others had suffered stolen lifespan, showing faces of drained vitality. But his own countenance now could be described as "detested by gods and reviled by ghosts"—a fate worse than death, primed to suffer every kind of the five misfortunes and three lacks. Why? "Xiaoyuan, what's wrong?" "Brother Runsheng, I'm fine." Li Zhuiyuan pulled away from Runsheng's support and looked back at the wall. He began to rethink what would happen once he reversed the layout here. First, all the corpses beneath the pool would turn into dead-flippers. They would swarm the village and slaughter every living soul. That didn't bother him—at least Li Zhuiyuan believed it was simply the retribution the village deserved. But... what next? He had no way to control those dead-flippers, nor could he destroy them. If they didn't dissipate after exacting revenge, they would spread to other villages, even towns. When that happened, he would have unleashed a catastrophe with his own hands. In fact, once the feng shui was inverted, the corpses' resentment would burn even hotter. They almost certainly wouldn't disperse after killing their enemies, making such a calamity all but guaranteed. And all of that... would be pinned on his head? Hadn't they done similar things back in Nantong? Great-Grandpa had done it too. Was it because Great-Grandpa wasn't here to shield him? No, those incidents had been minor squabbles. Faced with a disaster of this scale, even if Great-Grandpa were here, he wouldn't be able to shield him. Li Zhuiyuan couldn't fathom it. Why did highway robbers and murderers get away scot-free, while he had to bear karmic guilt for punishing evil and seeking justice? He looked up at the night sky. If not for the need to stay quiet, he would have jumped up and cursed: What kind of Heavenly Dao is this? "Xiaoyuan, you..." Runsheng found the whole thing deeply unsettling. Xiaoyuan bleeding, fainting, and getting emotional by turns made him anxious. "Brother Runsheng, let me be quiet for a moment." "Oh, okay." Runsheng squatted in a distant corner, quietly lit an incense stick, took out the offerings from his pockets, and kept eating. When there was nothing else to do, filling his belly was never wrong. Li Zhuiyuan sat on the floor with his legs apart, fingers digging hard into the cracks between the floor bricks. He forced himself to calm down. Then, realizing his calm was becoming too absolute, he had to bow his head in distress, chanting "Ah Li" repeatedly in his heart to halt the onset of his illness. *Hoo... hoo...* He raised his head and took a deep breath. In any case, he was unwilling to sacrifice himself just to avenge the people in the pool. Xue Liangliang was going to call the police anyway. The police would soon surround the village, and the criminals would be brought to justice. Yet letting it end like that left him feeling disappointed, unwilling, unsatisfied... Many small grievances piled up, swirling into a complex knot of emotions. Heh. He actually had emotions? For a moment, Li Zhuiyuan didn't know whether he should be happy about it. Although these feelings began fading rapidly after their sudden surge, a spark had at least been struck. Just then, he thought of the dwarf father and son. Thoroughly evil as they were, their methods had been airtight, as if deliberately avoiding something. He thought of Liu Yumei and Uncle Qin, living in Great-Grandpa's house, treating themselves as ordinary people and doing everything possible to avoid crossing boundaries. Finally, he thought of one specific person. He had always wondered why that person had never explicitly written that helping a dead-flipper resolve its resentment was a viable way to dispel it. He had also wondered why his first instinct upon seeing a feng shui formation was to push it to extremes. While part of it stemmed from his own twisted amusement, if the book hadn't suggested such lines of thought, he wouldn't have known where to start. The contents of the book were inherently guiding. "Heh..." The boy smiled. He understood now. The answer was Wei Zhengdao—a false righteous path. He wanted a result. If taking the direct path cost too much, then take a detour. Trick it, coax it. As long as appearances were maintained, this righteous path would let it slide. After all, it was a hypocrite. "Brother Runsheng, pry out the green pebble, the black one, and the red one in that order, and swap them. But for the final step, don't place the red pebble into the green slot just yet." "Got it." Runsheng took up his tools and began prying. He completed the first two steps quickly and handed the red pebble to the boy. "Xiaoyuan, what now?" "Now, let's make some noise. "Remember the house closest to the hall? The one where we ate corn, and where Brother Binbin found the cured meat?" "I remember." "Brother Runsheng, go over there right now and drag that woman here. Be fast. There's a man in the house too. If he resists, don't hold back." At the words "don't hold back," Runsheng's eyes went wide, his breathing quickening. Li Zhuiyuan added, "They are verified murderers. You are capturing felons. Citizens have a duty to assist the police and maintain social harmony and stability. This isn't illegal. "Besides, the slogan on the county wall says: 'Beating highway bandits to death is not a crime; it will be rewarded.'" Runsheng scratched his head, puzzled. "Uh, Xiaoyuan, why are you telling me all this?" Li Zhuiyuan shrugged. "That wasn't meant for you. Go on, Brother Runsheng." "On it!" Runsheng grabbed the steel pipe, opened the hall door, and sprinted out. Li Zhuiyuan leaned against the doorway, watching the distant house while toying with the red stone in his hand. A smile tugged at his lips. He noticed it and even tried pressing it down with his hand, but couldn't. This smile wasn't an act; he was genuinely happy. This emotion simmered steadily on low heat. It was hard to imagine how joyful he would be once it truly reached a rolling boil. Following the rules and acting by the book held no challenge for him. Dancing right on the razor's edge of the Heavenly Dao was what gave him a genuine thrill. This was true amusement. Real fun. *Bang!* A door was kicked open, followed by a woman's shriek. Then Li Zhuiyuan saw Runsheng sprinting back under the moonlight, carrying the woman over his shoulder. Earlier on the slope behind the village, they had only heard her voice without seeing her face. Seeing her now, Li Zhuiyuan was in high spirits and gave her a thorough reading: The woman was in her thirties, her face covered in freckles. Even distorted by terror, her features bore lingering traces of lewdness—a textbook peach blossom face, and a rotten one at that. Anyone with this countenance, male or female, would suffer misfortune their entire life over carnal affairs. If the overall physiognomy showed wealth and peace, it might counteract it somewhat. But she clearly wasn't that type; beneath the rotten peach blossom lay a pronounced sign of death by execution. Such countenances were common among death row convicts. In *Yinyang Xiangxue Jingjie*, this was described as execution by the state after the autumn assizes. In other words, even without his intervention, someone like her was destined for the execution ground. Or rather, most people in this village were bound to end up facing a firing squad. As Brother Liangliang would put it, the wheels of history were destined to crush them, and they were the ones destined to be ground to dust. The problem was, before they were crushed, how many more people like Zhu Yang would fall victim to their malice? Zhu Yang's wife would soon arrive from Nantong with money and their daughter. "Xiaoyuan, got her!" Runsheng tossed the woman onto the floor. "Help—!" *Smack!* Runsheng slapped the woman across the face. His slaps packed terrifying force, as Liu Jinxia and Grandpa Shan could attest. Several teeth flew from the woman's mouth. One side of her face swelled grotesquely, and she could only whimper, not daring to scream again. Runsheng pointed at her and snarled, "Shut up!" Terrified, the woman nodded vigorously. Li Zhuiyuan looked at Runsheng. "Brother Runsheng, what are you doing?" "Huh?" "I want her to scream." "I..." Runsheng immediately barked at the woman, "Scream again!" The woman shook her head frantically, indicating she didn't dare. *Smack!* Another slap. "I told you to scream, so scream!" "Help! Someone help! Help me!" At first, she cried out softly, but as distant commotion and barking dogs echoed through the village, her shrieks grew louder and louder. In truth, Runsheng kicking down the door had already alerted the village, but by the time nearby residents came out, Runsheng had already carried her into the hall. In the pitch darkness, it took the villagers a while to figure out what was happening. "Who else was in her house?" "A man," Runsheng said. "One glare from me and he curled up on the bed, too scared to stop me." The husband was a coward, too frightened to protect his wife, yet capable of slaughtering passing drivers without blinking. Between the husband's explanation and the woman's screeching, the villagers finally figured out what had happened and where to go. Soon, Li Zhuiyuan saw a group of people rushing toward the hall with flashlights. Runsheng hoisted the woman up, leveled the steel pipe at her head, and roared, "Take another step and I'll kill her!" It sounded like a line straight out of a martial arts movie, but paired with Runsheng's booming voice and the hostage, it brought the first wave of villagers to a halt, none daring to advance. "Brother Runsheng..." "Huh?" Runsheng froze. "Xiaoyuan, did I do something wrong again?" Li Zhuiyuan sighed. Forget it. He would keep playing along to appease the righteous path. The boy shouted at the top of his lungs toward the courtyard, "What did you do to Zhu Yang, the truck driver who gave us a ride? His license plate was Su F, his truck was carrying steel cables, and he had letters for his wife and daughter in the cab!" Fearing they wouldn't remember which one, Li Zhuiyuan deliberately listed several details. A man in the crowd yelled, "He's dead! Didn't he love reading books? I stuffed them all into his gut so he can read his fill down in hell, hahaha!" The crowd burst into laughter. Naturally, since the hostage wasn't their wife, they didn't care much. Still, charging in blindly and getting the woman killed wouldn't look good among fellow villagers. "So it's you! The village chief told us to hunt you down, and here you are hiding in the village!" "Saves us the trouble of searching. You delivered yourselves right to our door!" More people arrived in second and third waves. The village didn't have many households, so practically every able-bodied adult had gathered. Confident that the two outsiders in the hall had nowhere to run, they made no effort to hide anything, their words brazen and crude. After all, who worried about dead people leaking secrets? The crowd parted, and a man stepped forward—the very repair-shop owner who had directed them and warned them that the road ahead was dangerous. The owner pointed at Runsheng. "Let her go, and we'll let you two leave safely. We'll go our separate ways!" This was an obvious lie meant for fools; there was no way they would let anyone leave alive. The reason the village killed every victim was to protect their secret. In this era, when an out-of-town driver vanished, there were no surveillance cameras or digital records. When families reported it to the police, authorities couldn't even determine which province or city the disappearance occurred in, let alone the stretch of road. Long-haul drivers didn't call home often, and their families rarely knew where their last-minute jobs took them. Li Zhuiyuan yelled, "What you're doing is illegal! The police will come and arrest every one of you!" The childish voice paired with those naive words drew another round of laughter. The village chief reiterated, "Be good. Let her go, and you can leave safely. We keep our word!" "We don't believe you! Unless I see the police, we won't let her go!" Met with repeated refusals, the villagers began pressing forward. Li Zhuiyuan continued shouting, "Don't come any closer! You've already committed so many crimes without remorse! Do you want to double down and hurt us too?" Now, not only were the villagers laughing, but even Runsheng beside him couldn't help looking at the boy. He knew Xiaoyuan wasn't the type to spout naive nonsense. "Ugh, my throat hurts," Li Zhuiyuan muttered, rubbing his neck. But he had to keep going. "Don't come closer! I feel threatened! If you try to hurt me, I'll have to defend myself!" Li Zhuiyuan wasn't satisfied with that line; it sounded a bit too forced. Runsheng, though not entirely understanding, caught on to the pattern and yelled at the top of his lungs: "Halt your advance! Further action constitutes an unlawful assault on citizens! Turn back from your misguided ways, cease your illegal conduct, face reality, and repent before it's too late, or bear the consequences!" *Unlawful assault on citizens...* Li Zhuiyuan burst into laughter so hard that tears nearly welled in his eyes. Tonight was already bizarre enough, yet Brother Runsheng had managed to add another layer of absurdity. Runsheng continued shouting, "Leniency to those who confess, severity to those who resist! Recognize your crimes and surrender—that is your only way out!" "Damn it, are these two idiots?" "Get them!" Three men lost their patience, broke away from the crowd, and charged up the steps of the ancestral hall. Runsheng wasted no words. He swung his steel pipe in a flurry of brutal strikes. The three hadn't expected this big fool to be so vicious and absurdly strong. Even with hammers and billhooks in hand, they couldn't withstand the crushing force of his pipe. All three were battered to the ground, heads bleeding profusely. Such savage violence stopped the villagers behind them dead in their tracks. Then Li Zhuiyuan saw the village chief take a shotgun from someone behind him. "Brother Runsheng!" Runsheng instantly shoved Li Zhuiyuan aside and threw himself in the other direction. *Bang!* The gun went off. It missed both Li Zhuiyuan and Runsheng, but the woman, unable to dodge in time, had her chest riddled with pellets like a honeycomb. "Brother Runsheng, shut the door and come inside!" "Right!" Runsheng slammed the doors shut, threw the latch, and sprinted into the inner hall. Seeing Runsheng inside, Li Zhuiyuan finally pressed the red pebble into the empty slot. "This is self-defense. Legitimate defense. They tried to kill me, so this is just normal human survival instinct." The Qi ancestors who designed this layout couldn't have anticipated that beneath their blessed sanctuary would lie so many corpses brimming with resentment. Inverting the formation so drastically was like dropping a lit firecracker into a pressurized cesspool. A wind rose—a bone-chilling gust. A layer of white frost spread across the courtyard in an instant, expanding at terrifying speed. It crept into the inner hall, and snow began to drift outside. Li Zhuiyuan's heart sank. *Not good. I didn't expect the range to be this vast!* When the resentment below was awakened, every dead-flipper was equivalent to a red-dressed girl. No, dead-flippers were far more terrifying, exerting a much stronger negative effect. Back when Li Sanjiang dealt with the Little Oriole incident, he had warned Li Weihan that if the dead-flipper wasn't properly escorted away, the entire household would suffer misfortune. The resentment stirred by this mass of dead-flippers far exceeded that of a crowd of red-dressed girls, easily enough to extinguish the three life-flames of every living person within range. And anyone whose life-flames were snuffed would be drawn into the spatial seam. Li Zhuiyuan had no desire for himself and Runsheng to be dragged in as well. As the villagers outside pounded on the doors and scaled the walls, Li Zhuiyuan grabbed the incense from the offering table and handed some to Runsheng. "Don't eat these." "Oh, okay." Li Zhuiyuan said earnestly, "Every injustice has its perpetrator, every debt its debtor. You helped me, and I am helping you. Open your eyes wide and see clearly who your true enemies are!" The frost on the ground had already swallowed the entire hall, spreading far beyond. Only beneath the feet of Li Zhuiyuan and Runsheng did the frost melt away. Down in the pool, all the floating corpses shifted from lying flat to standing upright. Water began seeping from their bodies as their limbs slowly unfolded. Above, the hall doors were battered open. The villagers swarmed in, the chief leveling his shotgun with a chilling glare. Seeing the two inside, he sneered, "Burning incense for protection now? Too late!" The next instant, all the dead-flippers below raised their heads in unison. Plumes of black mist, visible to the naked eye, surged from the ground and enveloped the crowd. In a flash... The villagers who had charged in found their targets—the two outsiders in the hall—suddenly gone. "Where did they go?" "Where'd they run off to?" "Are they hiding somewhere?" "Am I seeing things? They were right in front of me a second ago!" The environment within the spatial seam was identical to reality. They hadn't realized that they were the ones who had crossed over, just as Li Zhuiyuan's group had initially. The chief shouted, "Search! They must still be here!" Back in the real ancestral hall... Runsheng's jaw hung open. He had been about to drop the incense and fight for his life with the steel pipe, only for a crowd of living people to vanish into thin air. Runsheng looked down at Li Zhuiyuan standing before him. He knew this was all Xiaoyuan's doing. Once again, Runsheng was awed by the power of knowledge. Soon, however, he was startled by a stench of dead-flippers far more pungent and terrifying than before. "Xiaoyuan, so many dead-flippers!" Yet in the blink of an eye, the odor so thick it felt almost liquid vanished. "Uh, Xiaoyuan, the dead-flippers are gone too..." "Brother Runsheng." "Yeah?" "The dead-flippers went in as well." "This..." Li Zhuiyuan pointed at the Taiji symbol in the courtyard. "Brother Runsheng, take your tools and smash that to pieces!" That was the exit. Smashing it would seal the spatial seam completely. "Alright!" "Also, Brother Runsheng, give me half an hour." "Huh?" Runsheng didn't understand at first, but seeing Li Zhuiyuan sit cross-legged on the floor and close his eyes, he realized. "Xiaoyuan, you're going to walk the yin path for that long?" Li Zhuiyuan nodded gently. "A rare opportunity like this has to be savored properly." With that, the boy raised his hand and snapped his fingers. *Snap!* When he opened his eyes again, he was still in the ancestral hall, but now he could see the villagers frantically searching all around. None of them could see him. No wonder the Qi ancestors couldn't resist living in seclusion here to study this place. It truly was fascinating. What a pity. If not for the necessity of destroying the exit, he would have loved to keep this place as a private reserve to study thoroughly, even if it meant shouldering a heavy burden. Li Zhuiyuan strolled through the crowd, even pausing beside the village chief to study him closely. Then he walked out the main doors and stood on the steps. A dense throng of dead-flippers was slowly emerging from the cavern opening below, filling the area. Water dripped from every one of them, their resentment thick and heavy, like beasts ravenous for prey. Li Zhuiyuan smiled, stepped aside, and bowed low with an outstretched hand toward the open hall doors—like the most courteous waiter at a grand restaurant in the capital: "Gentlemen, please, after you."