Chapter 105
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Boom!
Thunder rumbled across the sky, and flashes of pale blue lightning illuminated the veil of rain. Amid the downpour, the vague silhouette of a building could be seen. For an instant, the lightning revealed a plaque above the entrance, upon which the words “Yi Manor” were carved.
The wind carried raindrops and scattered fallen leaves, sweeping them into the desolate courtyard.
“Please… let me go…”
“No! Don’t put me in there!”
A woman’s desperate cries pierced the night. A deafening clap of thunder exploded above Yi Manor, lightning flickering as it illuminated a struggling figure. She was being restrained, dragged toward a large earthen jar half the height of a person, and forcibly shoved inside.
A tall oil lamp standing in the corner of the courtyard flickered unsteadily.
A Daoist cultivator, holding a short staff with a red head, sealed the jar’s opening. He tapped the lid twice with the staff, and the mud seal tightened on its own. Faintly, the woman’s muffled sobs could still be heard from within.
“Seal!”
Expressionless, the cultivator took out a yellow talisman and pressed it onto the jar. The wretched cries were instantly cut off. As lightning flashed and the lamplight flickered, rows upon rows of sealed earthen jars stretched into the distance, filling the chamber.
Beyond the front hall, deeper within the manor, lay the ancestral shrine. Warm candlelight flickered, casting a golden glow.
Atop the offering table, within the shrine alcove, sat a divine statue—four-armed, crowned with fire, grasping a flaming dragon. Below it, Zhu Ziyi knelt, murmuring incantations under his breath. He had just ingested a medicinal pill. Half his face was wrapped in bloodstained bandages, his robes were torn in multiple places, and his disheveled state was one of utter misery.
“Before the Bright Flame Holy Venerable…
Although the Earthly Fiend Yinfire Formation has been destroyed, the last batch of flesh-and-blood spirit altars has been safely transported. Only a small portion remains here.”
“It is of no use…”
From within the shrine, though the divine statue remained still, a voice resounded. Only Zhu Ziyi, kneeling upon the prayer mat, could hear it.
“…Begin preparations for the next batch of spirit materials. The Thousand-Year Flower of Five Colors Temple is about to bloom. The spiritual essences of the world—man, qi, earth, water, metal, and wood—have all been gathered. Only the demon is missing…”
“Understood.”
“And what of the one who destroyed the Earthly Fiend Yinfire Formation?”
“Struck by heavenly lightning. He should be dead by now.”
“To be certain, go and confirm. Leave no loose ends.”
Zhu Ziyi hesitated before speaking in a hushed voice. “That monk…”
“That monk has the backing of Ten Thousand Buddha Monastery and an old bald donkey behind him. Ignore him for now and focus on finishing the rest of the task.”
“Understood.”
Before long, silence settled over the ancestral shrine, and one by one, the lanterns in Yi Manor were extinguished.
Amidst the steady downpour, hurried footsteps splashed through the muddy mountain path. A figure rushed forward, kicking open the decrepit main gate.
Bang!
The courtyard door, covered in cobwebs, collapsed with a crash, sending dust billowing in all directions.
At the entrance, a towering, portly monk strode inside, palm raised in a solemn mudra. The heavy brass rings hanging from his large ears clinked softly, yet he moved with eerie silence.
This was none other than Monk Fajing, who had been pursuing the trail all the way from Liyang City.
Stepping into the front hall, his thick brows furrowed even deeper. He took out a fire striker, blew on it, and ignited a spark, lighting the oil lamp in the corner. The dim glow revealed dozens of abandoned earthen jars scattered across the room.
“What… are these things?”
Carefully, he reached out and tore away the talisman affixed to one of the jars. Breaking the mud seal, he peered inside—within lay an unconscious child.
Alarmed, Monk Fajing hurriedly broke open several more jars. One after another, they contained missing women and children. Lifting them from the jars, he pressed his thick fingers against their wrists, feeling for a pulse. A long, heavy breath of relief escaped his lips.
“Good… I made it in time.”
Although the full truth behind the disappearances remained unclear, at least many had been rescued. Arriving just in time, Monk Fajing finally felt a weight lifted from his heart.
As he waited for the women and children to awaken, he sat on the stone steps, gazing at the night sky beyond the hall. The heavens gradually turned deep blue, and the rain, having exhausted the last of its strength, began to lighten.
Recalling the figure who had unfurled that scroll atop the high platform that night, Fajing clasped his hands together and bowed.
“Amitabha. The Buddha’s mercy knows no bounds.”
The trailing rain stretched southeastward from the clouds, becoming sparse and scattered.
In the rear courtyard of Liyang City’s yamen, droplets of water clung to the eaves, trembling at the edge.
Drip…
A drop, long in the making, finally slipped down, barely making a sound as it met the ground. Inside the room, Lu Liangsheng’s eyelids twitched. His consciousness, once scattered, slowly gathered back. Sensations returned with clarity.
…I think I was struck by lightning.
And yet, I’m still alive…
Hehe.
The corner of his lips instinctively curled, but the motion tugged at his wounds, sending a sharp pain searing through him. He clenched his teeth, drawing a sharp breath through them.
Exhaustion made his consciousness fade quickly once more. He drifted into a drowsy haze, only to be roused again by loud voices—Sun Yingxian’s excited shouts and his master’s bellowing reprimands.
“Five Scholars!”
“All six in harmony!”
“Nonsense! You old toad, trying to pocket the winnings for yourself? How the hell can you roll a six?!”
“Come here, come here! Stick your head over! Let this old man show you whether I can or not!”
Other voices reached him occasionally. A gentle breeze stirred, and someone sat lightly by his side. Moments later, a cool sensation spread across his body and hands.
“Young Master, you must get better.”
It was Honglian’s voice.
Lu Liangsheng wanted to respond, but the most he could manage was a faint twitch of his fingers. He tried several times to lift his hand, but each effort failed. Worse yet, he couldn’t sense any of his internal spiritual power.
…Could I be crippled?
A moment of despair flashed through his mind—only to be interrupted by another sensation.
Hmm?
Demonic power…
Suppressing his panic, Lu Liangsheng focused inward, extending his perception. In his dantian, he saw a small bead, shrouded in mist, slowly rotating. The swirling mist seeped into his organs, feeding his vitality.
This demon core, Master must have used it to save me…
His breathing remained steady, and just as he was about to withdraw his perception, he noticed something else—a faint but undeniable energy coursing through his limbs and bones. Faintly, as though hidden in the depths of his body—it flickered like lightning.
It was a familiar sensation.
Heavenly Thunder?!
Lu Liangsheng’s mind buzzed, momentarily going blank. He could feel this foreign power spreading throughout his body with each breath. Yet, it did not settle—instead, it bounced and jolted violently, like an iron hammer pounding against his veins, organs, and flesh, striking over and over again.
Boom!
Boom!
His heart pounded furiously. He tried to force himself to relax, but with each impact, his muscles tensed involuntarily, trembling at an imperceptible speed.
Endure…
He clenched his teeth instinctively. From the outside, his seemingly still body on the bed was now trembling slightly.
Honglian, who had been watching over him, immediately noticed something was wrong. Her face paled as she called out urgently, “Young Master!” Then, she turned her head and shouted toward the round table where a man and a toad were playing drinking games. “Master Toad, come quickly! The Young Master is shaking all of a sudden!”
The Daoist put down his wine cup and rushed over. Meanwhile, the toad lazily hopped off the table, took a long leap onto the bedside, and kicked its little legs a few times to steady itself before slapping away the Daoist’s outstretched hand.
“Step aside! I have experience with this.”
The toad pressed its webbed hand against Lu Liangsheng’s wrist, then withdrew it and crossed its arms behind its back.
“No need to panic. This is just the spiritual energy left after a heavenly tribulation. It’s tempering his body. Back in my day, I went through the same thing…”
Lu Liangsheng could hear his master’s voice. But as the words dragged on, they blurred into a meaningless hum—just a continuous “buzz, buzz, buzz” in his ears. His will held on for a while, but eventually, exhaustion overtook him once more, and he drifted back into unconsciousness.
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