Tian Zhanyuan’s subordinate Wei Ye fled alone in panic-stricken terror. He was truly frightened. Their men had been watching that dilapidated Confucian Temple the whole time, and they hadn’t seen anyone else enter it — so why was there a yaksha inside the temple who killed as easily as breathing?

Though he’d only arrived not long ago, chatting with the inn’s young waiter over tea and snacks, he’d also heard tell of the yaksha claiming lives in Jizhou City.

The common people of this world were superstitious. They believed firmly in stories of immortals and ghosts, especially tales of life-claiming beings, which always captivated people — captivation mingled with dread.

Now he had seen that yaksha — a ferocious face with protruding fangs, as though it could bite through a person’s throat in one snap.

And especially in the Confucian Temple, where several fires had been lit, and Li Diudiu stood with his back to the flames — making the front half of him appear even more shadow-shrouded.

On the long street, Wei Ye fled for his life.

He didn’t even dare to look back. He ran in one breath all the way to the inn.

In the inn’s ground-floor hall, Tian Zhanyuan sat drinking wine and waiting for news. Dozens of his subordinates were gathered there as well, while others were posted around the inn’s perimeter keeping watch.

Wei Ye came stumbling in. He himself didn’t know what color his face had turned. The moment he saw his brothers, it was as though his soul had only just returned to him.

“Chief…”

Wei Ye had run so hard that he couldn’t finish his sentence — he was tripped by the doorstep, and his body stumbled and fell forward uncontrollably.

He sprawled on the ground, raised his head, looked at Tian Zhanyuan and said with a voice that couldn’t stop shaking: “In the Confucian Temple — there’s a yaksha.”

Tian Zhanyuan didn’t register it at first. His face was both astonished and confused as he looked at Wei Ye and asked: “What yaksha?”

Wei Ye swallowed a mouthful of saliva, his voice hoarse: “In Jizhou City — that… that life-claiming yaksha.”

Tian Zhanyuan froze. He too had heard about this yaksha claiming lives, and the story of it vowing to take three hundred lives before it was done.

“Impossible!”

Tian Zhanyuan said with faint anger: “It must be some river-and-lake martial artist playing tricks with ghosts and gods. Clearly that father and daughter pair came deliberately — someone is trying to deal with us.”

“No… there was no father and daughter.”

Wei Ye quickly said: “Chief, we had people watching that Confucian Temple — both front and back, eyes on it the whole time without a moment’s lapse. We didn’t see anyone go in, and didn’t see anyone come out.”

“But after we led our men charging into the Confucian Temple, that father and daughter pair weren’t inside at all. Inside there was only a green-faced, fang-toothed yaksha.”

Hearing this, Tian Zhanyuan’s expression changed sharply. He walked forward two steps and grabbed the front of Wei Ye’s clothing: “Are you certain of what you saw?”

Wei Ye said: “Certain. That father and daughter pair truly were not there — only that yaksha, alone.”

Tian Zhanyuan had always believed in spirits and gods. After hearing all this, even his hands began to tremble slightly. He muttered to himself: “Could those two have truly been immortals?”

Earlier in the daytime when he’d been having his fortune read by Changmei Daoren, Wei Ye had also been nearby and had more or less heard it all.

Recalling it now, he grew even more afraid, and said to Tian Zhanyuan: “Chief, could it be that those two immortals took on mortal forms to guide you, but the chief thought to kill them?”

Hearing these words, something in Tian Zhanyuan’s heart felt as though struck by a blow — as though an invisible hand had squeezed his heart.

What Wei Ye said had been blurted out in panic without any careful thought whatsoever. Yet Tian Zhanyuan too was rattled — this line genuinely gave him quite a tremendous fright.

He recalled — the old man had said he had the fate of a prince. He’d also said that if his destiny came together, a tiger could take on the aspect of a dragon — wouldn’t that be the fate of an emperor?

In turbulent times, immortals descend into the mortal world to guide those with the fate of emperors — stories like this had been around since ancient times. He had encountered exactly this, and yet he had thought to kill them.

“That… that yaksha — did he say anything?”

Tian Zhanyuan’s voice was trembling as he asked.

“He said… go back and tell your chief not to come out of the inn. At least… at least you’d die somewhere warm.”

Tian Zhanyuan’s shoulders visibly shuddered. He immediately ordered: “Everyone go outside and take up defensive positions. Seal this inn for me. Just hold through tonight — tomorrow morning at first light, we leave Jizhou.”

“Yes!”

Dozens of subordinates responded and all rushed out of the inn to guard the front and back. They were afraid too — but with numbers they could bolster their courage. Not one dared to go out alone; the minimum was three to five people huddled together.

The inn’s proprietor didn’t know what had happened. He heard the commotion and came out from inside to ask, but seeing the glint of swords and spears, he didn’t dare utter a single word. He immediately returned to his own room, slammed the door shut with a bang, and sealed it tightly.

He pulled his wife close and hid under the quilt — as though the quilt were the most impregnable fortress in the world.

Behind the inn, one bandit lowered his voice and asked a companion beside him: “This business with the yaksha — you don’t think it’s real, do you?”

The companion quickly shook his head. His voice was clearly trembling, yet he still mustered courage to answer: “I for one don’t believe in any of that. The way I see it, it’s more likely our chief went and did something, and the First Chief found out, and this is the First Chief’s people.”

His intention had been to comfort his companion and comfort himself too, but after he finished saying it, even he was taken aback.

His companion instinctively looked at him and said: “Then… wouldn’t that be even worse?”

The two were still talking when suddenly from the front of the inn came a wave of alarmed cries. It wasn’t one or two people startled — it seemed all the brothers keeping watch at the front of the inn had been startled simultaneously.

At the front of the inn there were at least thirty or forty men, all keeping watch in every direction. Yet no one knew who had spotted it first — someone yelped in shock, and then everyone looked. Outside the inn’s main entrance, without anyone knowing when, a person stood.

In the darkness of night, that person stood motionless outside the main door. On his face was a mask with a ferocious green face and protruding fangs. Nobody had heard any sound, nobody had seen anyone arrive. He seemed truly like a ghost — suddenly just there.

The yaksha said nothing. He just stood outside the door, quietly watching the bandits.

“Who are you exactly!”

By now Tian Zhanyuan too had seen him. He strode out from the inn’s main hall with his long blade in hand, pointing it at the yaksha and shouting: “And what exactly do you want!”

The figure that radiated an eerie, bone-chilling quality from head to toe raised a hand and held up a single finger.

“I am the yaksha. Tonight I claim one hundred lives.”

With those words, countless people immediately felt a cold wind rise along their spines.

Not far from the inn, atop the roof of a building, Yanshan Camp’s Seventh Chief lay flat watching the inn. He had noticed Wei Ye rushing back in a panic but didn’t know what had happened.

Now he saw the masked figure appear, and Seventh’s eyes immediately widened.

Yesterday he had lost track of the person. By the time he’d gone back and thought it over, he realized he’d never actually seen the person’s face — so who exactly this person was that he was supposed to protect, it appeared he’d almost found out, but in fact he still had not a single clue.

So tonight he had come back to watch the inn again. He hoped the masked person would appear again, so he could figure out who it was.

But he also understood clearly: the masked figure had no reason to come risk his neck again. Last night he’d already alarmed Tian Zhanyuan’s people — coming again tonight would be walking straight into a trap, wouldn’t it?

He was quite confident in his own martial arts, but he wasn’t confident enough to believe he alone could kill all those hundred-odd people.

Yet tonight, the masked figure he was watching seemed like a completely different person from the one last night.

Last night’s person had pretended to have hidden weapons, had grabbed a handful of dirt ready to throw in his face, was wearing short pants, and had an air of disreputability about him from head to toe.

But tonight’s person in the same mask seemed like a genuine yaksha.

Just as he was thinking this, he watched the masked figure raise a hand and gently wave a single finger.

“I am the yaksha. Tonight I claim one hundred lives.”

Ten words only, yet those ten words gave even Seventh a fright — not because those ten words were spoken with any particular ferocity, but precisely because they were so utterly calm. Calm to the point that there seemed not a trace of killing intent in them.

And that very calm was more frightening still.

“Kill him!”

At that moment, Seventh heard Tian Zhanyuan’s roar — like fury erupting — and even his voice was trembling. But Seventh could tell: that was not fury erupting. It was the extremity of fear.

Just after that shout, the masked figure’s form flickered back, and the person vanished into the shadows.

Tian Zhanyuan’s subordinates then rushed out howling, chasing toward where the masked figure had disappeared.

The torches by the inn’s entrance burned brightly — and because of that brightness, everything beyond the reach of the firelight appeared all the deeper in darkness.

“Brilliant.”

Seventh’s eyes lit up.

Because there was light, people feared the dark. If the world were always pitch black, people would long since have grown accustomed to darkness, adapted to darkness — perhaps everyone would have eyes that could pierce through it.

But this world has light, and so no one can truly see through the dark.

Seventh now understood what the masked figure intended. There were far too many enemies inside the inn — he wasn’t confident he could charge straight in and kill them all. So he was deliberately luring the enemy out.

Only by splitting the enemy apart would his chances become greater.

Tian Zhanyuan was too foolish. He shouldn’t have scattered his men. Had he gathered all his subordinates and had over a hundred men surrounding him and holding firm through the night, the masked figure would have had no opportunity whatsoever.

But Tian Zhanyuan, in his terror and fury, had fallen for it.

The thirty or forty bandits at the main entrance gripped their weapons and charged out, quickly disappearing beyond the reach of the inn’s torchlight — rushing headlong into the darkness.

Tian Zhanyuan gripped his long blade and stood at the inn’s entrance, looking in every direction unceasingly, his heart feeling not the slightest bit settled.

All the men in front had given chase. The inn’s main entrance suddenly felt quiet and deserted.

Tian Zhanyuan looked left — no movement. Looked right — no movement either. His gaze drifted slowly back to directly ahead. Then he let out a startled cry, and the blade in his hand nearly fell from his grip in fright.

The masked figure had come back.

He was standing at the main entrance again, and through that mask, a pair of eyes gazed at him with calm serenity.

Tian Zhanyuan’s men had clearly given chase after him — so why had his men not returned, yet this yaksha had?

“You… what exactly do you want!”

Tian Zhanyuan was so frightened he stepped back several paces and grabbed Wei Ye standing behind him, pulling him in front of himself as a shield.

Wei Ye turned his head and looked at Tian Zhanyuan. The meaning in that glance was extraordinarily complex.

The yaksha stood at the entrance without a word, just watching the two of them with that calm steadiness. Then suddenly the yaksha raised his hand and pointed toward the room where Tian Zhanyuan was staying. A boom went off inside Tian Zhanyuan’s skull — his wife was still in the room.

With almost no hesitation, Tian Zhanyuan immediately turned and ran for the upper floor. He reached the door of his second-floor room and shouldered it open. His wife, who had already been lying in bed, gave a startled cry.

Tian Zhanyuan’s expression changed. He dimly sensed what was happening. He ran over and grabbed his wife’s hand and pulled her running downstairs. His wife was terrified by this sudden upheaval, not knowing what was going on, and followed Tian Zhanyuan downstairs in a daze.

Reaching the ground floor, Tian Zhanyuan saw Wei Ye still standing in the doorway looking out. He immediately asked: “Where is that person?!”

Outside the door the yaksha was gone.

Wei Ye turned with a tremble. There was a thin red line across his throat. In the very instant he turned to look at Tian Zhanyuan, the red line across his throat seemed to burst with a faint crack — and blood poured out like a waterfall.