Bloodbath

Up on Sage Peak, Song Deke, a senior disciple under the Sage, pushed ahead of the others and actively fought for the chance to lead the way. Now that they had a guide, the Lüshui Beggar hesitated no longer. Lifting Song Deke by the collar, he prepared to head into the residence. Mu Yuejuan, known as Hundred Flowers Painter, chimed in, "Lü Huazi, where did that lad who came with you go?" The Lüshui Beggar looked back at Critick. "Him, you mean? He's my disciple, here just to broaden his horizons." Critick gave a modest smile. "I'm here to witness your great deeds, seniors. If there's anywhere I can lend a hand, please don't hesitate to command me." Mu Yuejuan shook her head. "I don't mean this foreigner. I mean that fellow surnamed He who came with you!" The Lüshui Beggar gave a start. Had Mu Yuejuan not brought it up, he really wouldn't have noticed—at some point, He Jiaqing had vanished without a trace. Mu Yuejuan's question gave the others a start as well. Qiao Wuzui, known as Half-Gulp of Yellow Wine, was equally astonished. "Quite the skill. When we got here, I was still aware of such a person, and in the blink of an eye he's gone. To fool our eyes, just what is that kid's cultivation?" Ye Jianhuang of the Three-Bowl Pipe said, "Lü Huazi, that lad couldn't have jumped ahead to hog all the spoils for himself, could he?" The Lüshui Beggar said, "He Jiaqing and I merely traveled together. I came here to take that old villain's life. What He Jiaqing intends to do, I truly don't know." He was telling the truth; he really had run into He Jiaqing halfway along the road. Yet Gui Jianchou, the Smiling-Face Ghost King, wasn't buying it. "Brother Lü, that's not right. Your connection with this He Jiaqing is anything but simple. If I remember correctly, he also goes by the nickname 'Benefactor' and has an old score to settle with the Sage." The Lüshui Beggar nodded. "You're right about that. He Jiaqing came to avenge an old grudge. It really has nothing to do with me." Gui Jianchou shook his head. "You've got it backward. It was precisely because of that old grudge that He Jiaqing joined hands with you against Sage Peak. Back in Lüshui City, you two did quite a few things together—I know a thing or two about those." The Lüshui Beggar chuckled. "Ghost King, you are well-informed. He Jiaqing and I did do some things together, but as for today's affair, I have nothing to do with him whatsoever. "If you don't believe me, let me make it even clearer. I don't want a single thing from inside this mansion. I just want to watch that old wretch die here with my own eyes. If you don't trust me, then walk ahead of me. Is that plain enough for you?" The Lüshui Beggar stepped aside to yield the path. The big figures looked at each other, none willing to walk in front. Critick shook his head in frustration. Having stayed in Puluo Province for so long, there were still customs here he couldn't wrap his head around. Every one of these people wanted to kill the Sage, yet none wanted to lead the charge, and none wanted to suffer needless wear and tear only to let someone else reap the spoils. Critick wasn't the only one getting anxious; Qiao Wuzui was growing impatient too. "If we keep dragging our feet like this, that old bastard's going to make a run for it." Gui Jianchou chuckled. "No need to worry, everyone. He can't run. My ghost thralls have sealed off every exit, even watching the tunnels. Whether he flies to heaven or burrows into the earth, that Sage definitely won't make it out of this courtyard." Qiao Wuzui said, "Don't forget, that old bastard has the Imperial Jade Seal in his hands." Critick didn't quite understand. Wasn't an Imperial Jade Seal just an official seal? Was it some kind of getaway treasure? Mu Yuejuan shook her head. "I don't think he'd abandon the Jade Seal to save his neck. Think about it—is there anyone left in this world who still recognizes him as emperor? If he loses even the Jade Seal, what would he have left to prove his former identity?" Ye Jianhuang said, "I think life comes before identity. That old bastard might really run." Gui Jianchou said, "If he runs, the Jade Seal will have to be left behind. As for who gets to keep it, we'll need to discuss that carefully." Qiao Wuzui gave a cold sneer. "Brother Ghost, you've set your sights on the Jade Seal already? Thinking of becoming an emperor yourself?" Critick let out sigh after sigh. He had a feeling the Daolao ghosts were about to come up the mountain, and before that happened, these dignitaries didn't seem inclined to take any action at all. Just what had they come here to do? While the group was still squabbling, a man approached from the distance. He wore a plain mineral-blue raw-silk robe, a sword tucked at his waist, and held a folding fan with a silk sachet scented and embroidered with a hundred butterflies hanging beneath it. The outfit was distinct, yet it was hard to put a finger on what made it so peculiar. Looking at his features, he had a full forehead, rounded cheeks, thick eyebrows over large eyes, and square, well-proportioned features. His chin was clean-shaven, while a wisp of a mustache graced his upper lip. Judging by looks alone, he appeared to be a handsome scholar in his forties. Yet anyone who knew him knew he was far older than forty. Mu Yuejuan's expression turned sour. "Zhou Badou? What is he doing here?" Qiao Wuzui chuckled. "Why shouldn't he come? Displeased to see him? Who told you you lacked the charm to crawl into his bed?" Mu Yuejuan rolled her eyes at Qiao Wuzui and said nothing. Ye Jianhuang remarked from the side, "He arrived right on time. At least he talks sense, and I can stomach his words." Qiao Wuzui nodded. "I'll listen to Big Brother Zhou too." Gui Jianchou chuckled. "Now that the Eight Dou Scholar is here, we really shouldn't run our mouths anymore." This handsome man was none other than the Eight Dou Scholar, Zhou Wencheng. Zhou Wencheng looked at the crowd and let out a sigh. "I knew it. Even if that old scoundrel left his gates wide open, you still wouldn't dare take a single step inside." Mu Yuejuan gave a cold laugh. "Big Brother Zhou, your words are pretty, but you arrived late. Were you waiting for us to go in first, fight the old scoundrel to mutual ruin, and then come in to reap the spoils ready-made?" Zhou Wencheng frowned. "Do you take Zhou to be that sort of person?" Mu Yuejuan smiled. "Who can sum up a person in a word or two? Let's just see how Big Brother Zhou handles the matter before us!" With that, Qiao Wuzui, Ye Jianhuang, and Gui Jianchou all turned to look at Zhou Wencheng. Zhou Wencheng nodded. "Fine. I'll take the lead, and I leave my back to you. First, we take that old scoundrel's head. As for how to divide the spoils, we'll discuss that afterward!" Qiao Wuzui nodded. "With those words from Big Brother Zhou, you get first pick of the good stuff!" Zhou Wencheng asked, "Who's leading the way?" Song Deke straightened his back and stepped before the gates. The moment he led everyone through the gates, several disciples ambushing by the entrance lunged toward Zhou Wencheng. These disciples hadn't been in the sect long—none more than a year—and their loyalty to the Sage was genuine. One disciple thrust a longsword toward Zhou Wencheng's chest. The character 'Shatter' suddenly appeared upon the blade. No one could tell if Zhou Wencheng had written it, as everyone felt his hands hadn't moved at all. The disciple's longsword instantly shattered, the fragments whistling back toward the disciples and riddling them like sieves on the spot. Several disciples died instantly. Only one had a strong physique and avoided vital wounds. Pulling an awl from his robes, he tried to charge forward and clash with Zhou Wencheng once more. Just as the awl was about to pierce Zhou Wencheng's robes, it suddenly clattered to the ground. The disciple noticed smoke rising from his hand. No fire was visible, only smoke. The disciple touched his right hand, and the brittle skin cracked immediately; his entire arm dissolved into smoke and vanished. The disciple trembled from head to toe, helpless with terror. Ye Jianhuang glanced at him, expressionless. Smoke continued pouring from the disciple's wound. A gust of wind blew, and the entire man turned into a wisp of smoke and ash. The awl lying on the ground was clearly a spiritual item. The others didn't bother to pick it up, but Pan Dehai wasn't too proud; he picked up the awl and tucked it into his robes. Not wasting things was a virtuous deed. Walking at the front, Song Deke wet his pants in fright. Not daring to look back, he stammered under his breath, "Seniors, heroes, what they did had nothing to do with me. I'm guiding you in all sincerity." Zhou Wencheng said nothing. The farther they went, the more terrified Song Deke became. Qiao Wuzui chuckled. "Did you lose your nerve? How about a swig of good wine to steel your courage?" Mu Yuejuan sneered. "I don't think it's his courage that's lacking. He's walking so slowly because his legs are clearly defective. Ah Gui, chop off both his legs and have your ghost thralls carry him." Gui Jianchou actually went to consult Song Deke: "I think that sounds pretty good. The chop hurts for a second, but you won't ever have to walk again. Having someone carry you around—all in all, you come out ahead." Song Deke quickly sped up his pace and led the group to the Sage's bedchamber. Along the way, they saw no sign of the Sage, only disciples surrendering one after another. From the moment these big figures stepped into the residence, the disciples' internal defenses had collapsed. At the bedchamber doors, Song Deke called out, "Master, they're here!" There was no reply from within. Song Deke said, "Please wait here, everyone. Allow me to go in and announce you." Zhou Wencheng laughed. They had already come this far—what announcement was needed? With the ghost thralls scouting ahead, Zhou Wencheng pushed open the doors and led the group straight into the bedchamber. Though called a bedchamber, it was comparable to an imperial palace, with layer upon layer of inner rooms. The group searched it from front to back, finding neither the Sage nor the Imperial Jade Seal. The Sage had fled—they had anticipated that. But where had the Jade Seal gone? If the Sage wanted to flee with the help of the Jade Seal, he had to leave the seal in place. Mu Yuejuan murmured, "Who beat us to it?" Everyone turned their gaze toward the Lüshui Beggar. The beggar said nothing; it seemed the only possible culprit was He Jiaqing. The Lüshui Beggar wanted to insist once more that he had nothing to do with He Jiaqing, but saying so now seemed utterly useless. Song Deke offered, "Master might not be in the bedchamber. Let's look elsewhere." The crowd searched the mansion high and low, unearthing over a hundred magic artifacts and spiritual items, as well as mountains of gold and silver, yet they found neither the Sage nor the Jade Seal. The Lüshui Beggar said, "Since that old scoundrel escaped, this trip was all in vain for me. As for these fine things, divide them among yourselves. I shall take my leave." A coil of smoke swirled around the Lüshui Beggar. Ye Jianhuang chuckled. "Leaving? It's not that easy." The Lüshui Beggar touched the pustules on his face. "What, making trouble for me?" Qiao Wuzui took a swig from his flagon. "You brought He Jiaqing here, and he made off with the Jade Seal. You owe us an explanation, don't you?" "He Jiaqing and I merely bumped into each other on the road. If you want the Jade Seal, go ask him for it." The Lüshui Beggar took a step forward, but two ghost thralls blocked his way. Gui Jianchou said, "Wait until things are made clear before taking your leave." Trailing at the very back, Critick had been nearly dozing off, but now he suddenly perked up. They hadn't caught the Sage, but there was still a fish to catch right here! Judging purely by strength, if these figures made a move, the Lüshui Beggar was doomed to die. Critick wanted nothing else; he only hoped an intact corpse could be left of his ancestral master. Mu Yuejuan gave the Lüshui Beggar no chance to speak again. An erotic spring painting materialized out of thin air before his eyes. A spring painting wasn't a depiction of spring, but a precious scroll chronicling the vital process of human reproduction. On the scroll were a man and two women. Upon looking at it, the pustules all over the Lüshui Beggar began bursting uncontrollably, pus spraying in every direction. Ye Jianhuang packed a bowl of tobacco and took a puff. The smoke encircled the Lüshui Beggar, and within the haze, all the flying pus turned to dust and dropped to the floor. Qiao Wuzui let out a drunken hiccup. A pungent wave of alcoholic fumes surged outward, making the Lüshui Beggar reel with dizziness. Ghost thralls struck from every side, wielding weapons to besiege the Lüshui Beggar. He struggled in vain to parry, covered in cuts and bruises in an instant. Critick sighed inwardly. The strength of all four was above the Lüshui Beggar's, yet they didn't care a whit about their status and ganged up on him anyway. What was to be done? Critick was truly worried for his ancestral master! An intact corpse probably couldn't be saved. If worst came to worst, he'd just have to gather what he could from the floor, picking up as much as he could find. Just as the Lüshui Beggar was backed into a corner, screeching cries rang out outside the mansion. "Screeech!" The Daolao ghosts were here. Perhaps because he had spent so much time around them, Critick didn't think the Daolao ghosts were all that terrifying. Even after drinking his potion and becoming extremely agitated, they weren't all that dreadful. Surely these big figures possessed ways to deal with them. Yet what happened next completely exceeded Critick's expectations. The Eight Dou Scholar, Zhou Wencheng, had the highest cultivation and the greatest prestige among them. With lightning speed, he divided the dozens of spiritual items on the floor into several shares—one for himself, one for each of the other four big figures, one for Pan Dehai, and even Critick trailing behind received two items. Having divided the treasures, the Eight Dou Scholar gave a casual flick of his sleeve and wrote two characters for 'Fly.' The characters carried him off, riding the wind. Ye Jianhuang puffed on his pipe, exhaling a plume of smoke; once the smoke cleared, he too was nowhere to be seen. The rest froze for a moment. Seizing this window, the Lüshui Beggar entered the Unnameable Place, his figure vanishing into thin air. Mu Yuejuan sneered. "The old scoundrel escaped, and now Lü Huazi got away too. I told you, even counting Zhou Badou, not one of you is worth a damn." A landscape scroll materialized mid-air as Mu Yuejuan prepared to leave. Pan Dehai chuckled and said, "Senior Mu, please give this old fellow a lift." Mu Yuejuan frowned. "Why should I take you? What kind of thing are you? Don't you have the skill to walk down the mountain yourself?" Pan Dehai didn't get angry. "I have the means to get down, but I'm always worried an accident might happen." The matter of the Jade Seal hadn't been cleared up yet, and he didn't want to get dragged into the mess. Mu Yuejuan smirked. "Fine. Call me Grandma, and I'll give you a lift." Pan Dehai beamed. "My most gracious, merciful Grandma, I am your grandson! Please take me along." With a wave of Mu Yuejuan's sleeve, Pan Dehai followed her straight into the painting. Gui Jianchou departed as well under the escort of his ghost thralls. Qiao Wuzui looked at Critick and asked, "Foreign devil, you're Lü Huazi's disciple?" Critick nodded. "Where does Lü Huazi usually stash his good stuff? Tell me the truth, and I'll take you down the mountain." Critick knew very well that if he didn't give an answer, Qiao Wuzui would kill him on the spot. After a brief silence, he said, "Senior, I can't go down the mountain. I've already become one of them." Qiao Wuzui was puzzled. "What do you mean? One of what..." Critick's cheeks swelled rapidly, his facial features blurring and contorting until he looked exactly like a Daolao ghost. Qiao Wuzui asked no further questions. Taking a swig of wine, he walked straight down the mountain. The pungent alcohol fumes emanating from him kept the surrounding Daolao ghosts from daring to draw close. Now that they had all left, what about Song Deke? What about Du Xiangwen? What about the disciples who had surrendered? No one cared what became of them. Only Critick still had the leisure to watch their final end. Amidst rolling roars and shrieks, over thirty disciples, more than five hundred servants and maidservants, and over a hundred women who cultivated alongside the Sage were either pounded into minced meat or transformed into Daolao ghosts. Sage Peak was thoroughly washed in blood—not just the humans, but even the beasts and birds. Their eyes red with slaughter, the Daolao ghosts soon descended the mountain, arriving at Huai'en Village, the settlement nearest to Sage Peak. Critick had been to this village before. It wasn't small; in his recollection, it had over five hundred residents. Today, there were fewer people in the village. Mingling among the Daolao ghosts, Critick made a circuit through the village and estimated that only two to three hundred remained. These two to three hundred people were gathered in the center of the village, listening to an elder lecture. "The root of heaven and earth begins in the Sage's heart, The change of heaven and earth begins in the Sage's thought, The foundation of heaven and earth begins in the Sage's virtue, The fountainhead of heaven and earth begins in the Sage's vow." For every line the elder recited, the crowd below repeated it after him, chanting these four lines over and over. More and more Daolao ghosts gathered around them, their screeching deafening. The louder the ghosts shrieked, the louder the elder's voice grew, and the louder the congregation chanted in response. They stood shoulder to shoulder, gazing fearlessly at the surrounding Daolao ghosts, attempting to drive off these monstrosities with the Sage's teachings and their own faith. The Daolao ghosts circled them for a long time. Critick wondered whether these four recited lines carried some special power. The elder leading the recitation shouted toward the Daolao ghosts: "The change of heaven and earth begins in the Sage's thought—" A Daolao ghost snapped the elder's neck in a single bite. The chanting came to an abrupt halt. The pious, steadfast gazes of the villagers instantly grew much calmer. The Daolao ghosts hadn't been circling them out of fear, but out of curiosity. To the ghosts, these humans possessed a certain entertainment value. Now they were bored of watching. They didn't even want to turn these people into Daolao ghosts; they only wished to fill their growling bellies. Watching the scene before him, listening to the screams and tearing sounds, Critick fell into contemplation. If one day in the future he were to eradicate all of humanity from the world, the Daolao ghosts might make a decent option. Yet being tethered to Daogui Ridge placed too great a restriction on them. His train of thought was suddenly interrupted as someone tugged at his hem from behind. Critick turned around to see a female Daolao ghost swaying her hips at him. They just filled their bellies and they're already thinking about this... Critick sighed inwardly. If creatures with so little ambition were to rule the world, how would they be any better than humans? Let's see how they perform at the next village, he thought. *** Li Banfeng arrived at Wuyouping leading over ten thousand people. To bring these ten thousand-odd people out, Li Banfeng had expended over sixty avatars in succession, scouring every corner of Jianrengang. Everyone he brought out was salvageable; on those beyond saving, he had had no time to waste. Over ten thousand people—the phrase sounded plain enough, but only when experiencing it in person did one realize what a staggering number it truly was. Standing in the middle of the procession, one couldn't see either the vanguard or the rear. Dozens of carts trailed at the rear to transport grain. He had thought the supplies would last a while, but even at one meal a day, after three full days of marching, virtually nothing remained. Where should they go next? Li Banfeng pulled out a map given to him by Prince Chun, which detailed the routes leading to various regions. If it were just Li Banfeng alone, he could go wherever he pleased—not even the Boundary could stop him. If he were leading dozens of people with cultivation, though they would travel slower, the difficulty wouldn't be immense either. But leading over ten thousand ordinary people with negligible cultivation made the journey anything but easy. There were many places one could reach from Wuyouping, yet all required crossing a stretch of newland. How could these people survive traversing a newland? Clatter-clang-clang! While he was lost in thought, someone shaking a rattle drum walked up to Li Banfeng. "Brother, where do you want to go? I'll lead the way." Li Banfeng smiled. "Brother Peddler, where's your cart?" The Peddler lowered his voice. "I left the cart behind. It wouldn't do for people to recognize me." "What's there to fear? You saved their lives. Don't you want to leave behind a good name among them?" The Peddler scoffed. "What good name could I possibly leave with them? I'll be lucky if they don't curse me in the future. "In all of Puluo Province, the only ones left who still have pity on these wretches are probably just you and me." *** In Lüshui City, Wan Jinxian had just stepped out of his residence when he spotted a beggar standing at the entrance. Without hesitation, Old Wan dropped to his knees with a thud. Lü Huazi smiled. "Sir, why are you kneeling before a beggar like me?" Wan Jinxian kowtowed repeatedly. "This disciple pays his respects to Ancestral Master!" The Lüshui Beggar said, "How could I dare accept that? Aren't you a member of the Brotherhood Alliance?" Wan Jinxian waved his hands frantically. "This disciple was merely humoring the others! My devotion to Ancestral Master alone is genuine!" The Lüshui Beggar nodded. "Fine, I'll trust you once more. Summon He Jiaqing to see me immediately." Not daring to dally, Wan Jinxian quickly tried to contact He Jiaqing, but couldn't reach him no matter what. "Ancestral Master, I swear I'm not lying! I haven't been able to reach He Jiaqing for days!" The Lüshui Beggar looked at Wan Jinxian and smiled faintly. "In this pathway of ours, having two disciples really might be one too many." *** In Yaowanggou, Qiu Zhiheng entered the Lu Family Bookstore. He had originally intended to buy a few newspapers, but a landscape painting hanging on the wall caught his eye. "Boss Lu, is this painting from the brush of Mu Yuejuan?" Boss Lu nodded repeatedly. "Boss Qiu has sharp eyes! This is indeed an authentic work of Mu Yuejuan, sold to me by a friend." Qiu Zhiheng marveled, "Among Mu Yuejuan's paintings, this one ranks among the finest. Boss Lu, do you intend to part with it?" Boss Lu chuckled. "Boss Qiu, you must know that bringing one of Mu Yuejuan's paintings home requires discretion. Aren't you afraid your wife will take offense?" Qiu Zhiheng didn't explain. He naturally didn't want the painting for trysts with Mu Yuejuan; he had other uses for it. Boss Lu sighed. "Boss Qiu, it's not that I want to turn you down, but someone has already reserved this painting and paid a deposit. If I get another fine piece like this in the future, I'll inform Boss Qiu first." Qiu Zhiheng asked no more. Buying his newspapers, he left the bookstore. As the hour grew late, Boss Lu locked up shop. Under candlelight, while he was tidying the books, the hanging scroll on the wall trembled, and Mu Yuejuan, Hundred Flowers Painter, stepped out from the painting. Standing beside Boss Lu, she smiled faintly. "Did this lady put on a convincing performance?" Boss Lu continued arranging the bookshelves without looking aside. "You've worked hard, Miss Mu. On top of the third row of bookshelves is a token of gratitude I prepared for you." Mu Yuejuan went over to the third row of bookshelves and took down a cloth bundle from the top. Wrapped inside were eleven magic artifacts. Before departing the Sage's estate, the Eight Dou Scholar Zhou Wencheng had divided the artifacts into shares; these eleven were the share Zhou Wencheng had kept for himself, and by far the highest quality. Taking the eleven artifacts, Mu Yuejuan said to Boss Lu, "There is one thing your younger sister would like to ask. Did you obtain the Imperial Jade Seal, or that old scoundrel's head—or did you get both?" Setting the books neatly in place, Boss Lu smiled at Mu Yuejuan. "Young lady, the shop is closed. If you wish to buy books, please return tomorrow." Mu Yuejuan furrowed her brow slightly, but said nothing more. With a leap, she returned into the painting, and the entire scroll vanished into thin air. *** Luo Zhengnan returned to Lüshui City. At the original site of the Jiangxiang Gang's headquarters, he invited several old friends to discuss their next moves. The Jiangxiang Gang's halls across various territories had been mostly wiped out, yet unexpectedly, a band of mountain bandits had popped up in Lüshui Bay whose core members were actually remnants of the Jiangxiang Gang. Changing their sign to stage a comeback? Luo Zhengnan could not tolerate this. He formulated a plan with his old friends, preparing to uproot this band of bandits within the month. Having concluded their business, the group chatted idly for a bit. One of them, feeling an urgent call of nature and unfamiliar with the former headquarters, couldn't find the latrine and ran behind an artificial rockery to relieve himself. He wasn't sure if his ears were playing tricks on him, but he felt as though there were faint noises coming from beneath the rockery. His ears hadn't deceived him; there truly was activity beneath the rockery. The secret chamber beneath the rockery was exceptionally soundproof; back then, even Li Banfeng using the Qiansi earring couldn't hear a peep from it. Yet this secret chamber had suffered damage—though only very slight damage. Skinny as a stick, He Jiaqing was currently inside the chamber, using his fingernails to scrape away at a wall brick. As long as he could pull this brick out, he could escape the basement. For now, however, he had only cleared a sliver of mortar between the bricks, still far from the goal of extracting one. He Jiaqing's hands trembled; he was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. After resting for a moment, he gnawed on his fingernails and continued scraping at the seam between the bricks.