At the Jiaofang Si, in the small Yingmei Pavilion, Liu Qi’an lounged lazily on a brocade couch, his watchman’s uniform hanging on the chair behind him. In the spacious room, six dancing girls twirled gracefully, their slender waists swaying beneath sheer gauze skirts.
Behind Liu Qi’an, one maid massaged his shoulders while another kneaded his legs as they rested in her lap. The courtesan, dressed in an elaborate and ornate gown, sat with her head slightly bowed, fully focused on playing the zither. Occasionally, she would glance up at Liu Qi’an, who seemed lost in pleasure.
After the time it took for an incense stick to burn, the music faded, and the dancers left the room. Fuxi Xiang rose gracefully, washed her hands in a copper basin, and said with a hint of disappointment, “So Young Master Yang is a watchman.”
“Does that disappoint you?” Liu Qi’an replied carelessly, playing with his fingers.
The courtesan lifted her skirt and sat on his lap, pressing her hands against his firm chest with a seductive smile. “I like it…”
Liu Qi’an had come to the Jiaofang Si mainly because it was close by, and not because eating and listening to music at a regular brothel would cost several qian, while here, Fuxi Xiang provided her services for free.
“How did Number Six know about my conversation with Number Nine? Number Three’s fragment is sealed, so it can’t receive messages from other fragment holders, but can the other holders see it? Is this Earth Book an ancient version of a QQ group chat?” Liu Qi’an mused.
“If I had known, after the blood oath, I would have added them as friends one by one… At the time, I was a bit scared and just wanted to get rid of this hot potato…”
“The Tiandiqi Hui and the Earth Sect seem to have a connection… A split in the sect, perhaps?”
Liu Qi’an’s train of thought was interrupted as he frowned at the courtesan sitting on his waist, grinding her hips and looking at him with a lustful expression on her beautiful face. She had a pair of captivating peach blossom eyes.
“If you keep moving like that, this soft seat will become something else entirely,” Liu Qi’an said with displeasure.
A few minutes later, the maids waiting outside heard the creaking sounds of the brocade couch and their mistress’s stifled intermittent gasps.
“Oh my, they’ve started in broad daylight.”
“Let’s go for now; it’ll probably last until dusk.”
…
At the Guiyue Tower, in the Phoenix Harmony private room, a man in black tight-fitting clothes sat at the round table, one hand resting on his sword, his back straight. The man in black had a two-finger-long scar on his cheek, triangular eyes, and light brown pupils that occasionally flashed with a murderous glint.
He gave off an air of a fierce and unruly brute as if he might draw his sword and start killing at the slightest provocation, exuding an intense aura of violence. He was a death row prisoner from the Watchmen Office, one whose name had been marked by the current Emperor, scheduled for execution next autumn.
Today, he had suddenly been taken out of death row by a Golden Gong, who told him that he only needed to complete one task satisfactorily to be released back into the jianghu, with someone else taking his place as a death row inmate.
This offer was highly credible. Names marked by the Emperor usually meant certain death, with no possibility of pardon. Finding a replacement was the correct course of action. Such “atonement through meritorious service” deals were not uncommon in the Watchmen Office. He had heard about them from jianghu elders even before he was captured.
His task was simple: he only needed to make a transaction. But the man in black knew that great danger must be hidden within. Otherwise, why would they need a death row inmate for such a simple exchange?
The man in black accepted this task for two reasons: First since he was destined to die anyway, he might as well take a chance. Second, this was the Guiyue Tower in the inner city, one of the most prosperous areas. Ordinary people wouldn’t dare cause trouble in such a place.
At that moment, he heard two knocks on the door of the private room.
“The door’s unlocked, come in!” the man in black responded in a deep voice.
The door to the private room opened, and a man dressed as a jianghu wanderer entered, wearing a gray robe with half of his face hidden under a hood. The exposed lower half of his face showed a light stubble on his chin, as if freshly shaven.
Both men cautiously scrutinized each other.
Heh, with that outfit, he definitely couldn’t have entered the inner city… He must have changed into it after entering the Guiyue Tower… There might be weapons hidden under that robe… The man in black thought, half-scornfully and half-warily, as he heard the cloaked jianghu wanderer ask in a hoarse voice:
“Where’s the item?”
The man in black calmly stared at him and said flatly, “I believe I mentioned that this mirror cost me five hundred taels of gold.”
What kind of mirror could be worth five hundred taels of gold… he added mentally.
The cloaked jianghu wanderer grunted in acknowledgment and reached into his robe, pulling out a stack of silver notes. The first note had a face value of one hundred taels.
Although he knew these silver notes would ultimately have to be handed over, money moved people’s hearts, and the man in black couldn’t help but let his eyes light up, his gaze fixed on the thick stack of silver notes.
“The mirror!” the cloaked jianghu wanderer placed the silver notes on the table and said hoarsely.
The man in black put the mirror, which he had examined carefully but found nothing extraordinary about, on the table.
The cloaked jianghu wanderer raised his head slightly, revealing a pair of sharp, knife-like eyes. He stared at the mirror on the table for a moment:
“Very well, the transaction is complete. Once we leave this room, we’ve never met.”
He picked up the mirror, while the black-clothed death row inmate, eyes glowing, reached for the silver notes.
Suddenly, the death row inmate saw the left side of the jianghu wanderer’s cloak bulge slightly… Not good! His pupils contracted violently as if hit by a strong light. Without thinking, he rolled to the side, avoiding a potential attack.
The task isn’t that simple… Fortunately, I’ve been on guard the whole time… This guy is a master; I can’t fight him head-on. I’ll just break the window and escape. I don’t believe he’d dare to kill someone openly in the bustling inner city… Thoughts flashed through the black-clothed death row inmate’s mind.
At that moment, he saw his original seat occupied by a figure wearing black tight-fitting clothes, hands resting on a sword, with the neck cleanly sliced, a bowl-sized wound gushing blood.
Huh?
A string of question marks floated through the death row inmate’s mind before his consciousness plunged into endless darkness.
The cloaked jianghu wanderer put the silver notes back into his robe, sneered, and walked out of the private room.
…
The cloaked wanderer left the Guiyue Tower, mounted the fast horse he had arrived on, and maintained a steady pace as he left the inner city and then the outer city. Once on the main road, he spurred his horse into a gallop, leaving a trail of dust in his wake.
After riding hard for over an hour, he saw a tea shed ahead with three old tables set out. The tea seller was an old man with graying hair, currently sitting alone at a table drinking tea as there were no customers.
The cloaked wanderer reined in his horse, which reared up with a long neigh as it came to a stop from its high-speed gallop.
He tied the reins to a wooden post by the road, looked left and right, and walked towards the tea shed.
He took out the small jade mirror and presented it respectfully with both hands: “Chief, I have not failed in my mission.”
The gray-haired old man took the small jade mirror and said in a low voice: “You’ve brought back an enemy.”
The cloaked wanderer was stunned, and before he could react, he saw the old man wave his hand, sending him flying.
Bang!
The airborne cloaked wanderer collided with a sharp energy, instantly exploding into pieces of flesh.
Blood splattered like spilled ink.
The old man narrowed his eyes and looked towards the end of the main road, where a tall, imposing figure was slowly approaching.
When he first appeared, he was at the distant end of the road, but within a few breaths, he was less than a hundred meters from the old man.
“Yang Yan, you dog raised by Wei Qingyi,” the old man coldly snorted. “Don’t meddle in affairs that don’t concern you.”
The expressionless Yang Yan replied flatly: “I insist on meddling.”
The old man flew into a rage, his emotions spiraling out of control as he shouted: “Then don’t blame this poor Daoist for being impolite.”
His plain robe billowed, and wisps of black smoke seeped out from his body, dancing wildly in the air, emitting eerie and shrill cries.
Yang Yan frowned slightly: “The Earth Sect cultivates merit and virtue. Since when did they start using these ghostly tricks?”
Black veins like a spider’s web bulged on the old man’s face, his pupils flooding with a crimson hue, exuding a demonic aura: “Heh, this poor Daoist will send you to ask the Virtue Heavenly Venerable.”
With a sharp screech from his mouth, the black smoke all around howled and rushed towards Yang Yan.
Yang Yan remained expressionless, bringing his left and right fists together.
Bang!
A violent energy rippled outward from him in concentric circles, sweeping up grass and dust along the way, finally crashing into a thin black membrane.
The sky flashed with black light, revealing a slick, thin barrier resembling an inverted glass bowl.
“My Hundred Ghosts Formation is easy to enter but hard to leave. Even if you’re a Fourth-Grade Martial Artist, you’ll be trapped here until you die,” the old man’s voice was as hoarse as a devil from hell.
In mid-air, the black smoke dispersed by Yang Yan’s energy reassembled.
Yang Yan frowned slightly. This formation was completely different from those of the Court of Judicial Astronomy.
The formations of the Court of Judicial Astronomy borrowed the power of heaven and earth and could exist for long periods. Daoist formations were set up by human power and couldn’t last long.
This Hundred Ghosts Formation was particularly troublesome.
Among the major cultivation systems, the Daoist sect was the leader in the realm of spiritual cultivation. A Sixth-Grade Yin Spirit in the Daoist sect was also called a ghost catcher in ancient times, responsible for collecting souls at night and governing the life and death of mortals.
This Hundred Ghosts Formation employed similar techniques.
Although martial artists also cultivated their spirits, it was only to enhance their defenses, making their spirits more resilient. They lacked offensive techniques in this field.
“I’ve heard that Eighth-Grade Daoists are called Qi Eaters. They can wield magical treasures and summon heavenly lightning. Why don’t you let me experience that?” Yang Yan said expressionlessly, his tone contemptuous.
“Coming right up!” The old man was provoked again. Two streaks of blood light, like crimson lightning, shot out from his sleeves.
Yang Yan neither dodged nor evaded, allowing the two blood-colored lightning bolts to strike him.
Ding ding!
The two blood-colored lightning bolts merely tore his clothes before bouncing off.
Impenetrable skin and bones!
“Why aren’t you fighting back?” the old man raged, his face covered in spider-web-like black veins, grotesquely twisted.
“I’m waiting for my spear,” Yang Yan said calmly. “It’s here.”
As he finished speaking, a bright silver meteor streaked across the sky from the horizon.
The slick, thin barrier shattered at its approach, and where the meteor passed, the black smoke hissed and evaporated.
“If it can’t be broken from the inside, then break it from the outside.” Yang Yan reached out and grasped the long spear, a silver weapon.
After saying this, his figure abruptly vanished, as if merging with the long spear, carrying an unstoppable momentum as he thrust towards the old man.
In the old man’s blood-red pupils, that silver light flashed, irresistible and unstoppable—it was the essence of a spear tempered through hundreds of battles.
The essence of a Fourth-Grade Martial Artist’s Spear.
“No!” The old man spat out a golden pill flickering with blood light and black light, hurtling towards the long spear.
The golden pill turned to dust in the face of the spear’s essence. The old man’s body was shredded to mincemeat, while that silver light continued to pierce through for hundreds of zhang, puncturing a nearby hill.
The old man’s figure coalesced in mid-air, half ethereal and half solid. He glared at Yang Yan with a venomous look before transforming into green smoke and fleeing into the distance.
Yang Yan bent down to pick up the small jade mirror, shouldered his silver spear, and turned back toward the direction of the capital.
…
The black smoke fled for hundreds of li before stopping near a village.
The old man’s face flickered in and out of visibility within the black smoke as he stared down at the village below.
Yin spirits couldn’t remain active for long during the day. Without a physical body, their power was greatly diminished, unable to cope with potential crises that might arise.
The old man planned to possess a physical body and devour the souls of the villagers to nourish himself.
With this plan in mind, the black smoke drifted languidly into the village.
The once lively and vivid village shattered like a water mirage in the next instant. A barrier shrouded in five-colored merit and virtue rose, trapping the black smoke.
At the center of the formation sat an old Daoist priest with deep-set features, cross-legged in tattered robes.
…
Early in the morning, Liu Qi’an arrived at the Watchmen’s Office on time to report for duty.
He was waiting for the follow-up to the “Earth Book” incident.
Not knowing the outcome made him feel uneasy.
Near noon, a black-robed clerk found him in the side hall next to the Spring Breeze Hall and said respectfully, “Sir Liu, Minister Wei summons you.”
Finally… Liu Qi’an nodded slightly: “Very well!”