The familiar scent wafted through the air as the sleeves fluttered, and Zhu Yan recognized it immediately. She recalled the first time she met Madam Tang outside Ximing Temple. The elegant Madam Tang had a similar fragrance, though more intense.
Pine, agarwood, cypress, amber…
These were scents meant to calm the mind in temples, yet on this person, they carried a sense of death, just like Lai Luofu. This aroma, meant to be otherworldly, seemed to seep into the skin and bones, as if fulfilling an ancient legend that those favored by the divine would emit such a fragrance, marking them as extraordinary.
Unexpectedly, Zhu Yan detected this scent in Wang Buzui, linking him to Lai Luofu. Could the legend be true?
Wang Buzui noticed Zhu Yan staring and sneered, “What trick are you planning now?”
Zhu Yan opened her mouth to inquire about the scent, but a half-faced ghost interrupted.
“Master, we found a corpse in the backyard bushes. It’s one of ours, indicating someone has infiltrated.”
The half-faced ghosts, all members of the Fire Moth Party, had a fire moth tattoo on their left shoulder, confirming the infiltration.
Wang Buzui glanced at Zhu Yan and ordered, “If someone snuck in quietly, they don’t want to alert us. Search thoroughly and capture them alive.”
“Yes,” the ghost replied, retreating.
Zhu Yan worried. Was it Shen Du who came to rescue her? She felt a mix of blame and concern. If it was him, charging in alone was reckless. How could the renowned “White Yama” be so impulsive?
Wang Buzui didn’t miss Zhu Yan’s expression change. He called for his subordinates, “Bring the sacred object. We start immediately; no more delays.”
If it was Shen Du, Wang Buzui couldn’t risk it. The longer they waited, the more likely something would go wrong.
Hearing that Wang Buzui was finally going to attempt resurrection, the guards, all half-faced ghosts, were excited. “Master, don’t forget your promise to help us resurrect our loved ones.”
They joined the Fire Moth Party, willing to be used, for the promise of resurrection.
Wang Buzui was annoyed. This was the first attempt, and success wasn’t guaranteed. To ensure his sister’s resurrection, he prepared three vessels, one resembling her closely. Resurrecting all their loved ones was a daunting task.
But he knew the importance of keeping his followers motivated. “Rest assured, I keep my promises. But we must proceed cautiously. If this first attempt fails, it will harm you. I’m willing to test it myself. If successful, I’ll help you reunite with your loved ones.”
His words were noble, though Zhu Yan knew the so-called secret method was nothing but deceit.
The followers, convinced by his reasoning, expressed gratitude, “Thank you, Master, for your consideration.”
With the followers appeased, Wang Buzui relaxed and pointed to Zhu Yan, Du Xiaowan, and Xiuxiu, “Bring the potion. Have them drink it. Once the auspicious time arrives, we begin.”
The potion would render them powerless, preventing any disruption.
Someone had infiltrated Guangchun Hall, indicating their skill. Though a search was underway, any oversight could lead to trouble if they reached the inner sanctum.
Xiuxiu, huddled in a corner, heard this and her eyes dimmed, her spirit deflated. He had chosen her after all.
Seeing the half-faced ghosts busy again, Zhu Yan realized Wang Buzui feared Shen Du’s arrival and wanted to start the resurrection early.
She needed to stall for time.
“Vice Master Wang, if the resurrection method is real, why not have Lai Luofu, who has succeeded before, assist? Wouldn’t that ensure success?”
Zhu Yan was certain someone was backing Wang Buzui, likely Lai Luofu, who never appeared in Yingzhou City.
If Wang Buzui considered bringing Lai Luofu, it would buy Shen Du more time.
Unexpectedly, Wang Buzui’s face twisted with rage at the mention of Lai Luofu. He approached and slapped Zhu Yan.
“You don’t deserve to know.”
Caught off guard, Zhu Yan took the slap, leaving a clear mark on her pale face, blood trickling from her lip.
“Bah,” Zhu Yan spat, taunting, “Did I hit a nerve?”
“What resurrection method? It’s just a ploy to win loyalty. These people are deluded to believe it.”
“Enough!”
Wang Buzui clenched his fists, veins bulging, exhaling sharply to quell his anger.
The half-faced ghosts brought in the potion, and Wang Buzui personally forced a bowl down Zhu Yan’s throat.
The potion took effect quickly, leaving Zhu Yan weak and drained.
Released, she collapsed, groaning in pain.
The ghosts administered the potion to Xiuxiu and Du Xiaowan, leaving them equally weakened.
Without Wang Buzui’s intervention, the others lifted them onto the table.
Frustrated, Wang Buzui’s patience wore thin. “Check why the guest hasn’t arrived yet.”
Everything was ready, except for the final ritual and the intricate process of stitching the preserved body parts and infusing the soul—a complex task requiring precision.