Chapter 58

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The moment the scroll was rolled up, the doors and windows suddenly blew open with a violent gust of wind.

An even fiercer wave of sinister wind swept through the courtyard, sending the startled birds perched atop the old pine tree flapping their wings frantically, fleeing to a more distant place.

In the other courtyards, the maids and servants shuddered involuntarily, their faces pale with terror as they watched the trees and plants in the garden thrash wildly. Panicked, they rushed indoors, too frightened to step back outside.

Zhou Zhen stood under the eaves, his beard and hair fluttering in the wind as he looked toward the side courtyard. Though outwardly calm, a flicker of fear gnawed at him, but before he could react, his worried wife dragged him inside, shouting at him: “Are you trying to get yourself killed!”

With a loud bang, she slammed the door and windows shut.

In the side courtyard.

Pine needles drifted and scattered across the courtyard. The large green-faced, fanged ghost with sunken cheeks and a long tongue leaped over the courtyard wall, but as soon as it landed, it instantly stumbled backward several steps, crashing into the wall. The bricks bulged outward with a resounding crash.

Before it could recover, a swift shadow darted across the top of the wall. The ghost’s gaze lifted just in time to see a pale arm reaching down from above, and crimson nails pierced into its tangled hair, slicing through the green skin.

Pfff~~~

A deflating sound hissed as a stream of white smoke erupted from the top of the big ghost’s head. Its massive, green-skinned body staggered forward a few steps, and the white smoke emitted a piercing scream that echoed through the courtyard. Then, with a sound like ripping paper, like a hiss, the head of the green-faced fanged ghost was violently torn in half by the beautiful figure lying behind it.

In an instant, the ghost and its torn-off head dissolved into thick smoke.

The sinister wind scattered the white smoke, sweeping away a layer of fallen leaves on the ground, and coiled up into the form of a graceful figure standing before the scholar holding the scroll. The figure gave a small, respectful bow.

“Young Master.”

The Daoist approached, still holding the bowl of cinnabar-infused tea, though some of the liquid had sloshed over the sides. He glanced at the dissipating smoke, noting the paper scraps littering the ground—fragments that faintly outlined the shape of a paper effigy.

Sun Yingxian clicked his tongue.

“Now that was brutal.”

The Shadow-Cutting Technique involved using inanimate objects like water or paper to conjure beasts or ghosts that the caster could control. Though their strength wasn’t particularly formidable, they weren’t weak enough to be so easily torn apart like this.

Even Sun Yingxian, if he had attempted it, would’ve needed to exert considerable effort. His gaze shifted to Nie Honglian, and a trace of concern stirred in his heart.

… The Rakshasa Ghost—if she continued following Lu Liangsheng in cultivation, transforming into a Yaksha or even a Shura one day…

… Then there really would be no one capable of controlling her.

As these thoughts churned in his mind, a scroll suddenly tapped him on the head. The scholar turned toward him, smiling: “What are you standing around for? Hurry and help me locate where that person is.”

“As if I needed you to tell me!”

Sun Yingxian swatted the scroll away from his head, then took a large swig of the cinnabar-infused water. He rummaged through his pouch, pulling out a red string and winding it around his middle finger before picking up a fragment of the paper left behind by the dissipated ghost.

Pfft!

The cinnabar water sprayed from his mouth, drenching the red string and the paper fragment. Forming a hand seal, his lips began moving rapidly.

“By decree, Heaven and Earth, and the Eight Directions, wandering spirits and ghosts, quickly heed my command and reveal yourselves!”

As the word “command” fell from his lips, he pressed his fingers to the red string. The string, now taut and straight, stretched forward, extending into the distance. Sun Yingxian stepped back, his middle finger twitching rhythmically as the string guided him.

Lu Liangsheng stood quietly nearby, watching for a moment. He recalled the Daoist once mentioning his master was apparently someone from a major sect. After completing his training, he settled in Liangya Mountain to cultivate. He was a master of the orthodox Daoist arts, especially in slaying demons and banishing evil, something few other cultivators could compare to.

“Found it!”

After some time, Sun Yingxian suddenly turned his head, a streak of cinnabar still staining the corner of his mouth. The Daoist grinned smugly: “That guy is hiding right here in the city. Just follow the red string guided by my spell and give him a good beating!”

“Good, as long as he’s found.”

Lu Liangsheng glanced at the graceful figure beside him. Without needing him to speak, Honglian nodded, already understanding. With a sweep of her long sleeve, she summoned a fierce gust of sinister wind.

“Keep the red string stable!” Lu Liangsheng reminded once more. Then, his footsteps quickened… his form flickered as he leaped onto the courtyard wall. With his cultivation, his eyes could naturally perceive the flow of spiritual energy that others couldn’t. Stepping lightly on the wall, he sprang into the alley, his figure flashing rapidly across rooftops as he rushed to the top of a certain house.

From a bird’s-eye view of the night sky, the city’s countless lights flickered like stars. Amidst them, a shadow darted across rooftops, leaping from tile to tile, moving swiftly toward the other side of the city. Occasionally, a roof tile cracked underfoot, causing a few dogs to bark in alarm.

Woof woof woof… woof woof…

On the long street below, rows of lanterns swayed in the night breeze. A mounted patrol, torches in hand, rode along the street. The leader, hearing the unusual barking, suddenly tightened his reins and halted his horse. Instinctively, he looked up at the rooftops ahead, where a fleeting shadow, invisible to most, flashed across his field of vision.

“It’s him…”

The rider turned his horse sharply. Four long-handled sabers were strapped to his back, and a whip coiled around his waist alongside a slender scabbard. It was none other than the former Head Constable Zuo from Fushui County. Over the past three years, his martial skills have improved significantly, and his vision surpassed that of ordinary people. With just one glance, he recognized the familiar figure leaping across the rooftops.

“Chief Constable?” One of the officers under his command urged his horse forward.

Zuo Zhengyang turned slightly and replied: “It’s nothing.” His thick brows furrowed for a moment before he issued a command: “We won’t be returning to the yamen just yet. Follow me for another round.”

“Yes!”

The officers quickly sheathed their blades and cupped their hands in acknowledgment. Spurring their horses, they followed the Chief Constable in pursuit.

At the same time.

In the western part of the city, within a large manor, Zhang Dongming stood nervously under the eaves with his wife, watching the ritual altar in the courtyard. The flickering candle flames danced uncertainly as Yangming Zhenren conducted his spell.

[TL_Note: Zhenren = True Person, a daoist title]

“Lord, do you think our Cheng’er will be able to obtain the spirit medicine this time…?”

The old man gently patted his wife’s hand. “Yangming Zhenren is highly skilled in the mystical arts. He should succeed.”

As his words faded, a sudden boom erupted from the altar, sparks flying into the air. Yangming Zhenren staggered backward, taking half a step to steady himself.

Zhang Dongming’s heart clenched with worry, and he couldn’t help but call out.

“Zhenren…”

The Daoist raised his hand, signaling for him to remain silent. A grin spread across his face, revealing his teeth, as he spat on the ground.

“He’s got some skill, no need to worry, Patron Zhang. This Daoist was just a little careless.”

Sensing something, he sneered coldly. “You still dare to spy on me with your ability?” With a flip of his hand, his palm brushed over a bowl of blood water on the altar, and a Yin-Yang fish symbol immediately condensed on the back of his hand.

“…Divine Lord, hear my words. In the dark and the unseen, petty spirits are causing trouble—seal their sight!”

He stomped his foot fiercely and thrust his palm toward the candles. With a whoosh, a surge of flames roared upward.

“Ah…!”

In another direction, Sun Yingxian’s eyes were bloodshot, as if they had been stung by smoke. He gritted his teeth in frustration.

“Curse your mother, you dare use this trick on me!”

With one hand maintaining the red string, he fumbled in his pouch with the other, randomly pulling out a few yellow talismans and clamping them between his teeth. His fingers rapidly formed a seal.

“I’ll fight back too!”

The yellow talisman lifted into the air, without a breeze, and attached itself to the red string.

“Ah—!”

Daoist Yangming let out a pained cry, his eye sockets now darkened as though he’d been punched hard twice, one on the left and one on the right.

In a fit of anger, he exerted his spiritual energy, linking it with the red string spying in this direction. His voice, carried by his spiritual energy, transmitted across the link: “I have shown mercy, knowing we are both practitioners of the Dao and have no desire to harm you. But if you persist in your foolishness, I will be forced to act seriously.”

“Bring it on, this Daoist fears nothing. If you’ve got the guts, come at me!” Sun Yingxian’s voice boomed back from the other side.

Under the eaves of the courtyard, Zhang Dongming and his wife watched nervously as Master Yangming appeared to be speaking to someone. Of course, neither of them could hear the conversation.

“Is the Zhenren summoning divine spirits for aid?”

“Maybe… Zhenren’s powers are profound. That other person likely won’t be able to withstand it.”

In the courtyard, Daoist Yangming cut off communication, his face darkening ominously. With a sharp flick of his horsetail whisk, he sat cross-legged on the meditation cushion. His lips moved rapidly, muttering incantations under his breath.

The flickering candlelight cast shadows across his face, making it appear alternately dim and bright.

Then, suddenly.

The Daoist’s eyes snapped open, his complexion turning a fiery red, as though scorched by flames. Thin tendrils of fire began to rise from his body, illuminating the entire courtyard. He stood up abruptly, sweeping his horsetail whisk with a powerful motion, and shouted: “Ignite!”

The fiery energy, invisible to ordinary people, shot down the thread of spiritual energy at lightning speed.

Hiss…

Hiss hiss…

In another part of the city, within a large courtyard, Sun Yingxian was drenched in sweat, which poured down his face relentlessly. He was desperately maintaining the flow of the red string, all while chanting incantations. However, his wide Daoist robe sleeves began to flicker with sparks, tiny embers burning through the fabric, spreading toward his body.

“Hiss… so hot, so hot… this guy is using the Fire-Bane technique…”

“Lu Liangsheng, you slowpoke. Hurry up, you useless oaf!”

In the blink of an eye, his pant legs and robe sleeves burst into flames. Sun Yingxian gritted his teeth and severed his spiritual energy, throwing himself to the ground and rolling frantically to extinguish the fire on his body.

“Ouch, ouch… I, this Daoist, and you demonic Daoist are irreconcilable enemies. Just you wait… Ah, it hurts, it hurts…”

Meanwhile, back in the large manor in the western part of the city, Daoist Yangming, sensing his victory, brushed the dust off his robes and gazed up at the night sky, looking in the direction of his opponent.

He let out a sinister laugh. “Haha… Once I obtain the spirit medicine, I’ll deal with you properly!”

Striding toward the ritual altar, he flicked his horsetail whisk and picked up several pieces of paper, flicking them lightly. “You lot, go fetch the spirit medicine for me…”

Rustle...

Whooo…

Just as he issued his command, the trees in the courtyard began to thrash wildly, and a bone-chilling wind blew in from beyond the eastern courtyard wall.

The rows of lanterns under the eaves swayed violently, the eerie wailing sound making the couple feel as though their hair was standing on end.

“What’s happening?”

“Zhenren, why has such a strong wind suddenly picked up?”

Yangming Zhenren hurriedly waved his robe sleeves, hastily setting up a protective boundary. He took a step back and turned toward the direction where the Yin Qi was gathering.

“Hmph, I didn’t expect him to summon a Yin spirit.”

With a fierce push of his palm, the Yin-Yang symbol on his hand shot into the dark wind. There was a loud bang as flames erupted. In the dim light, the figure of a woman floated down, her face glowing an eerie green, her head the only visible part, flashing in and out of the darkness.

The sight terrified Zhang Dongming and his wife, their faces turning deathly pale as they clung to each other by the pillar, trembling.

At that moment, the two people and the Daoist in the courtyard seemed to sense that someone else was there and instinctively turned their heads.

A slender figure descended from the courtyard wall, clad in a long blue robe, a twin-fish jade pendant hanging from his waist. In his hand was a rolled-up scroll.

As he approached, he smiled at the Daoist.

“I am Lu Liangsheng. May I ask if you are responsible for the strange occurrences in the Zhou Manor?”

Behind the scholar, the darkness seemed to ripple and distort, revealing the faint outline of an enormous figure within the shadows. The deep, rumbling growl of a tiger surged forward like waves crashing.

In an instant, Daoist Yangming’s expression shifted from stern to fearful. Large beads of sweat began to slide from his temples down to his chin.

“Wha… what is that thing… does it have to be this massive…”