Deep in the night, darkness shrouded the osmanthus grove.
With a single thrust, Zhou Wuji pierced the Mystic Yin Mirror. The surface shattered into fragments, obliterating the tens of thousands of talismans inscribed on its reverse.
Deprived of its refuge within the mirror, the ghost soldier materialized out of thin air.
Without a master to command it, the ghost soldier's aura was rabid yet dull, lunging toward Zhou Wuji by sheer instinct.
Zhou Wuji had long prepared the Seven Stars Demon-Slaying Sword. In a flash of azure radiance, the sword plunged directly into the ghost soldier's brow.
The blade struck straight at the ghost soldier's yin spirit, freezing it completely stiff.
Seizing the moment, Zhou Wuji unleashed a flurry of strikes with his Seven Stars Sword, hacking the ghost soldier into dozens of pieces.
As a sixth-rank ghost soldier, its form was shattered, yet its spirit had not been extinguished.
Hooking his fingers like tiger claws, Zhou Wuji caught the fractured clumps and ribbons of black vapor in his grasp.
Visualizing the Heart Tiger within, he stoked his blood and qi into a roaring fire. Under the scorching heat of his vitality, the dark miasma burned away into flecks of gray smoke.
Only then did words appear in the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment: Slaying a sixth-rank ghost soldier yielded four liang and one qian of primordial profound essence.
Zhou Wuji had pondered over the Mystic Yin Mirror for two days. Unable to make heads or tails of how to work it, he had chosen to kill the goose that laid the golden egg, simply shattering the mirror to eradicate the ghost soldier.
A sixth-rank ghost soldier could at least provide a share of primordial profound essence.
The difference between a naturally formed sixth-rank ghost soldier and one that had been refined was vast. Wild ghost soldiers were nearly impossible to tame; only those nurtured through secret arts could be commanded as smoothly as one's own limbs.
The sixth-rank Yin-Yang Dao fiend cultivator must have poured untold resources into raising this ghost soldier.
The Arctic Sect possessed methods for controlling spirits and deities as well—the Five Yin Pouch, for instance, was essentially a spell for directing yin spirits. Yet such arts were exceedingly intricate and profound, governed by strict rituals and precepts; one could never simply snatch an arbitrary ghost soldier and domesticate it.
Zhou Wuji could only sigh. If he could have commanded this sixth-rank ghost soldier, it would have been even more useful than the Heavenly Puppet in the short term. Treating it as a mere consumable was indeed a waste.
Still, it was a windfall to begin with, so he did not dwell on the loss.
The Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment also held four liang and seven qian of primordial profound spirit derived from the evil spirit lingering upon the Heavenly Puppet. Two reserves of primordial profound essence exceeding four liang each would vastly elevate his qi.
Zhou Wuji was in no hurry to use them, however. He intended to stockpile more primordial profound essence and convert it during his talisman investiture, passing it off as a blessing from the Northern Emperor. That way, he could win the favor of Abbot Zhiyuan and other abbey elders while providing a plausible explanation for his rapid breakthrough.
Moreover, reserves of over four liang were precious. Using them now would severely diminish the benefits of any three-liang reserves he might absorb later.
Yunlong Branch Abbey housed the Myriad Ghosts Cavern, which served as the trial ground for the seventh-rank talisman investiture. When the time came, he could slay more baleful ghosts and absorb the essence in ascending order of quality, maximizing his advancement.
Having dealt with the ghost soldier, Zhou Wuji returned to his room. Just as he prepared to wash up and rest, Wuzheng arrived.
"Junior Brother, Wu Di is dead," Wuzheng said without preamble.
Meeting Wuzheng's piercing gaze, Zhou Wuji remained calm. "That scoundrel had it coming."
Wuzheng thought Zhou Wuji was perhaps too calm, yet he could spot nothing amiss. Zhou Wuji was always like this, completely indifferent toward anyone or anything he despised.
Unable to press further, Wuzheng could only caution him. "Zhang Yunfeng will likely arrive in a couple of days. He is no decent man either, Junior Brother. You must stay on your guard."
"Senior Brother, I sensed hostility from Zhang Yunfeng as well," Zhou Wuji took the opportunity to ask. "We are total strangers with no past grievances. What reason could he have?"
"The root of it lies in the friction between our branch abbey and the Zhang family. Relations have grown worse over recent years."
Wuzheng sighed at the mention of the subject.
The Zhang family held sway over the local government, military, shipping, merchant houses, and vast tracts of fertile land. Possessing wealth, territory, manpower, and goods, they were the undisputed overlords of Yunyang Prefecture.
Their dominance stemmed from being a cadet branch of the Southern Chu Zhang family. The Southern Chu Zhangs were a millennium-old aristocratic house, with generations holding key offices in the imperial court. Over a thousand years of accumulation, nearly the entirety of Chu Prefecture answered to their name.
A clan of such stature proved a thorn in the side even for the emperor, who had employed every measure to erode the power of such great houses.
The Daoist sects, supported by the imperial court and drawing official stipends, naturally served the state. The ancestral seat of the Arctic Sect lay at Ziwei Peak on Mount Xiandu in the Chu capital, and disciples across the sect preached throughout Chu Prefecture. For this reason, the Arctic Sect shouldered the heavy duty of keeping watch over the Southern Chu Zhang family.
Even so, the Arctic Sect had avoided aligning entirely with the throne, maintaining relations with the Southern Chu Zhangs. Aware of this delicate balance, the Zhang family maintained an outward appearance of harmony with the Arctic Sect, allowing both sides to coexist peacefully.
In recent years, however, the situation had shifted. The emperor was aging yet had still not named a crown prince. Undercurrents surged through the court, factions vied openly and in secret, and the monarch no longer had the stamina to suppress the aristocratic clans.
At the same time, the Arctic Sect had produced no first-rank powerhouses for decades, relying solely on Sect Master Zhou Xuan'an to hold the line. The Celestial Master Mansion was governed collectively by the seven Daoist sects, and with Zhou Xuan'an bound to guard their ancestral seat, the Arctic Sect lacked a voice of authority in the mansion. Consequently, the sect's influence waned by the day.
Sensing the Arctic Sect's decline, the Southern Chu Zhang family grew increasingly assertive across the board.
Wuzheng knew little of grand court politics, having only heard brief sketches from his master, Yizhen. He could only pass along what he knew to Zhou Wuji.
Having spent his life at Canglong Temple with his master, Zhou Wuji had known nothing of the Arctic Sect's broader plight, much less the state of the imperial court. Only now did he realize how precarious the sect's standing had become.
"Aren't the seven Daoist sects supposed to be linked in spirit and form one body?" Zhou Wuji asked. "Why would our Arctic Sect be bullied?"
Wuzheng shook his head. "I don't know the exact details. But even within our sect, the seven lineages contend fiercely against one another, let alone the other sects."
Zhou Wuji nodded. That made sense. Where people gathered, factions inevitably formed. Men banded together for gain and fractured when interests diverged; such was human nature.
"And what of the Zhang family here in Yunyang Prefecture?" he asked.
"Seeing our sect decline, they wish to kick us down while we are weak. But the Zhangs act methodically, advancing step by step. I hear the Zhang family secretly facilitated Golden Leaf Temple establishing a foothold in Yunyang Prefecture, precisely to pit them against our branch abbey."
Wuzheng paused to consider. "Zhang Yunfeng is an important figure in the Zhang family. He likely saw your exceptional talent and feared you would become a threat once you matured, which is why he harbors ill will toward you."
Zhou Wuji clapped his hands. "So that's it! Senior Brother, your eyes are keen indeed to see through Zhang Yunfeng's sinister motives at a glance."
Just as he suspected, love and hatred never arose without cause. Given the hostility between the Zhang family and the branch abbey, it was only natural that Zhang Yunfeng wanted him dead.
Moreover, Zhou Wuji was merely an eighth-rank Daoist lacking even official court ordination papers; killing him would carry little consequence. Neither the court nor the branch abbey could hold the Zhang family accountable over his death.
"Just be careful, Junior Brother. Zhang Yunfeng will not dare act rashly."
Wuzheng had come solely to urge caution. Given Zhou Wuji's alertness and superb swordsmanship, he would not fall prey to Zhang Yunfeng so long as he stayed vigilant.
Zhou Wuji voiced heartfelt thanks, saying earnestly, "I'll follow your counsel, Senior Brother. I won't run around, and I won't give the scoundrel an opening!"
Knowing Zhou Wuji's bold and ruthless nature, Wuzheng took the promise with a grain of salt. Hesitating, he could not resist adding another warning. "Junior Brother, Zhang Yunfeng is a Company Commander in the Pacification Office and a key figure in the Zhang family after all. You must not fight him. If anything happens to him, there will be serious trouble..."
Zhang Xinhu had been a distant relative of a minor branch; no one in Yunyang Prefecture cared whether he lived or died. Wu Di had been a seventh-rank Senior Banner Officer—a mere speck within the Pacification Office. Furthermore, his death was attributed to his subordinate Jin Chuan turning on him; even if the Pacification Office investigated, suspicion would never fall on Zhou Wuji.
Zhang Yunfeng was an entirely different matter. If he met with an accident, Zhou Wuji would face immense trouble whether the Zhang family had evidence or not.
"I understand, Senior Brother." Zhou Wuji had already sentenced Zhang Yunfeng to death in his heart, but he would not act just yet. After so many consecutive incidents, he needed to keep a low profile. Once he reached the seventh rank, it would not be too late to deal with Zhang Yunfeng.
***
On the eighth day of the first lunar month, Zhang Yunfeng led a squad into Siming County.
He headed straight for the garrison. His first task was examining Wu Di's corpse.
Lacking expertise in such matters, Zhang Yunfeng gave the body a cursory glance, determining only that a swift blade had decapitated Wu Di.
He turned to Chen Dagou beside him. "Master Chen, what do you make of this?"
Chen Dagou had rough, purplish-red skin. A cloth wrapped around his head, and he wore a black coarse tunic with bare feet inside hemp sandals. Though not tall, he was stockily built with broad hands and feet, bearing the weathered, rugged look of a lifelong manual laborer alongside palpable brute strength. His eyes were mostly white with very little pupil, giving him an eerie cast as though he were always squinting askance at people.
Leaning over the corpse, Chen Dagou examined it closely and even sniffed it thoroughly while muttering under his breath.
The nearby Iron Clothes Guards grimaced, instinctively stepping back.
Zhang Yunfeng paid their unease no mind. Chen Dagou was an expert from the Five Dragons Gang, thoroughly versed in gu sorcery. Said to originate in antiquity, gu sorcery survived in regions like Chu Prefecture and Yun Prefecture—a bloody, sinister art of immense lethality.
Zhang Yunfeng had brought Chen Dagou along specifically for his mastery of gu sorcery, hoping he could discern how Wu Di had died.
After inspecting the body for a while, Chen Dagou looked up at Zhang Yunfeng, sounding helpless. "His yin spirit has been entirely snuffed out. There is no telling which sect's method was used. But his sternum was shattered before death; the assailant must practice some fierce martial art to inflict such damage through armor. That level of martial cultivation should be at the seventh rank."
Zhang Yunfeng frowned. Jin Chuan could hardly have reached the seventh rank, nor did he possess such ferocious palm strength. The affair was indeed bizarre!
He asked Chen Dagou again, "Can you track Jin Chuan? The killer, that is."
"Too much time has passed. The killer's scent has already dissipated; he cannot be found." Chen Dagou shook his head. After two or three days, every trace of scent was gone; even his tracking White Snake Gu would be useless.
Disappointed, Zhang Yunfeng pondered for a moment and asked, "If the killer were standing right in front of you, could you recognize him?"
"That would be worth a try." Aware of Zhang Yunfeng's formidable stature, Chen Dagou dared not make absolute promises.
Zhang Yunfeng whispered into Chen Dagou's ear, and the man nodded repeatedly.
Wu Di's body lay upon a straw mat in the center of the garrison's main hall. Fortunately, the weather remained chilly, so the odor had not grown unbearable.
By midday, local experts and dignitaries of Siming County had arrived: Li Cheng'an, Yang Shuling, Patrol Inspector Zhang Huai, and even County Magistrate He Yulin.
When Zhou Wuji arrived alongside Wuzheng, the hall was already packed with people.
Only Magistrate He Yulin sat to the side. In his thirties and of scholarly appearance despite his dark complexion, the magistrate pressed a handkerchief over his nose, his face filled with disgust.
Wuzheng led Zhou Wuji over to greet the magistrate first, and He Yulin nodded courteously, exchanging a few polite pleasantries.
Though Wuzheng despised Zhang Yunfeng, propriety demanded that he approach and offer greetings.
Zhang Yunfeng gave a slight nod without speaking, his gaze fixed on Zhou Wuji.
Having not seen him for two months, Zhou Wuji now possessed a face like polished jade and eyes bright as stars. Wearing a carefree headscarf, a green Daoist robe, and a longsword at his waist, he radiated an easy, detached grace, with none of the haggard pallor of his past near-fatal wounds.
Only now did Zhang Yunfeng realize how striking Zhou Wuji's appearance was, his bearing refined and peerless.
*He truly is quite a figure!* Zhang Yunfeng thought in secret admiration, yet his urge to kill only intensified.
Whether in Daoism or Buddhism, outward bearing and charm were paramount in preaching and proselytizing. A person like Zhou Wuji possessed an innate charisma that commanded belief merely by standing there and reciting scriptures. If he were allowed to rise, the Yunlong Branch Abbey's renown would soar.
*The more outstanding Zhou Wuji is, the more imperative it is to eliminate him.*
With murderous intent churning inside, Zhang Yunfeng kept his face impassive and raised his voice. "I have summoned you all today because Senior Banner Officer Wu Di's death is steeped in suspicion."
Gesturing toward Chen Dagou beside him, he announced, "I have brought an extraordinary master who can discern the killer's scent from the corpse."
The crowd stirred, their expressions shifting. Discern the killer's scent? How could such a thing be done?
What if this crude, eerie fellow pointed fingers at random?
Aware of the Iron Clothes Guard's ruthless methods, everyone immediately suspected Zhang Yunfeng was using this as a pretext to cause trouble. No matter who was accused, Zhang Yunfeng could drag them into the guard's cells for interrogation. Once inside, escaping without paying a massive ransom would be impossible!
Wuzheng's brow furrowed. He was deeply worried that Zhang Yunfeng would seize this chance to target Zhou Wuji. Yet surrounded by so many silent onlookers, he could hardly step forward to object.
Indifferent to their thoughts, Zhang Yunfeng turned to Chen Dagou. "Master Chen, if you please."
Rough-featured and plainly dressed, Chen Dagou stepped forward. Chanting under his breath, his eyes rolled back until they showed pure white. Stepping and gesturing to an unseen rhythm, he began to dance around Wu Di's corpse.
The spectacle deepened the onlookers' suspicion and dread, convinced Chen Dagou practiced no righteous art.
After circling for a moment, Chen Dagou suddenly leaped directly in front of Zhou Wuji. His blank white eyes stared straight into Zhou Wuji's face, and pointing a finger, he shrieked, "It's you!"
Though Zhou Wuji had braced himself, anger flared within him.
He had slain Wu Di relying entirely on the secret treasure of the Heavenly Puppet. For this man to brazenly frame him without the slightest pretense of craft was utter, shameless slander!
Just as Zhou Wuji was about to speak, his sword intent detected something amiss. Instantly activating his Six Yang Dharma Eyes, he beheld a vast, white serpent emerging from Chen Dagou's form.
The serpent appeared ethereal and misty, seemingly woven of vapor. Yet through the Six Yang Dharma Eyes, he could see that the great white serpent was composed of countless dust-fine insects.
Coiling and gathering momentum, the serpent abruptly opened its gaping maw and lunged down at Zhou Wuji—
Chapter 74