The entire hall stood in shock at these words, and the Bitan Manor
disciples looked as if they had been struck by lightning.
In the cultivation world, average cultivators memorized spells,
superior cultivators understood them, and exceptional cultivators adapted
them. But far above the average, the superior, and the exceptional lay still
another tier of cultivators—those who had no need for memorization, who
had long since understood, and who were unsatisfied with adaptation. Those
who had grasped the final step: creation.
These were the masters who refined unique pills and elixirs, the
experts who crafted unparalleled arms and armor, the geniuses who drafted
unprecedented spells and talismans—those whose skill commanded the title
of "zongshi."
To common cultivators, these zongshi were little more than a name on
a scroll, or perhaps a seal on a magical treasure. The young disciples from
Bitan Manor never imagined that the man they had brazenly attempted to
arrest and drag to Tianyin Pavilion for interrogation was one such godlike
individual.
Li Wuxin's forehead was covered in a sheen of cold sweat, but as the
sect's leader, he had no choice but to put up a bold front and persevere. He
squeezed out a smile, his waxy yellow face the color of rice hulls gleaming
with grease. "What a coincidence that the Sigil of the Returning Billows was
created by Chu-zongshi himself. This one has truly…ah ha ha, truly
underestimated Chu-zongshi. However, while confronting the vengeful ghost
of Luo Xianxian at Butterfly Town, I obtained yet another item. I wonder if
this too might have some relation to Chu-zongshi."
Chu Wanning knitted his brows. "What item?"
Li Wuxin waved his hand, and Disciple Very Smart swiftly brought
over a brocade box. "A weapon."
Chu Wanning gazed silently at the box for a spell. "Is it a willow
vine?"
This time, everyone's eyes, including Mo Ran's, widened in disbelief.
"H-how did you know…" Li Wuxin's voice shook as he spoke.
"Unless it really was you, but…what's going on here?!"
A golden light burst to life in Chu Wanning's palm, lengthening inch by
inch until it coiled on the floor. As the glow dimmed, a length of willow
vine, its delicate leaves unfurled, materialized before the onlookers. Chu
Wanning was unfazed. By now, he was already certain that the incident at
Butterfly Town was perpetrated by the same mysterious individual they'd
encountered at Jincheng Lake and Peach Blossom Springs. "Li-zhuangzhu, the
weapon in the box is this one, is it not?"
"Y-yes." Li Wuxin's voice sputtered and nearly gave out on him.
The brocade box was opened. Inside was indeed a length of willow
vine, identical to the one in Chu Wanning's hand in every way.
Chu Wanning narrowed his eyes. His suspicions had already been
roused when that fake Jiangui that was used to kill the people of the feathered
tribe and frame Mo Ran had appeared at Peach Blossom Springs. This
confirmed them. "Li-zhuangzhu, may I have a look?"
Li Wuxin mulled it over. Things weren't exactly going his way right
now, and it'd be inadvisable to offend Chu Wanning further. After a moment's
consideration, he said, "Chu-zongshi is too courteous. I'm only here to
inquire about the situation in the first place. Please look all you want—why
should I ever refuse? I'd be only too thrilled to get your thoughts."
Chang-gongzi, for his part, was rather less than thrilled. He'd come to
Sisheng Peak to pick a fight and had spent a small fortune securing Bitan
Manor's support. What was this damnable old fart playing at? Was he really
going to switch sides after facing a little pushback? Chang-gongzi threw
pointed look after pointed look at Li Wuxin, until eventually each one was an
angry glare.
Li Wuxin paid him no heed, but Mo Ran noticed those looks from
where he stood on the side. "Chang-gongzi," he said mockingly, "are your
eyes okay? You seem to be squinting them quite a lot."
Meanwhile, Chu Wanning had taken the willow vine from the box and
was now examining it closely. Sure enough, although it was no different from
Tianwen and Jiangui in appearance, its life force was exceedingly weak, far
weaker than that of a holy weapon with a master. This was clearly a dead
thing. "Heart-Pluck Willow…"
Xue Meng had keen ears, and when these words reached them, he
froze. "What?"
"This vine, and the ones used to kill the feathered tribe back at Peach
Blossom Springs as well—they were all broken off the Heart-Pluck
Willow," Chu Wanning replied.
"Ah!" Shi Mei cried out in surprise. "So that's what it is?"
"Before the old dragon passed at Jincheng Lake, he said the fake
Gouchen employed a certain spell that required a strong wood elemental
spirit to maintain. It's likely that he took some branches from the holy tree
before destroying Jincheng Lake. Although their spiritual power will
gradually fade with the death of the holy tree, they should still be sufficient
for his purposes for some time."
Chu Wanning's slender fingers traced the golden leaves on the vine in
his hand. "Even the branches that have been practically depleted of spiritual
power have not gone to waste—he has used them either as false evidence to
frame others, or distributed them to his puppeteered pawns as weapons."
As he spoke, a flame kindled to life in his hand. He held that vine that
was the mirror image of Tianwen to the fire, and it caught instantly, its blaze
reflected in the shocked and stupefied eyes of the onlookers.
"This is not my weapon." Chu Wanning let the fire lick all the way up
to the tip of the branch before closing his palm around the flame,
extinguishing it. He tossed the scorched willow vine aside and said mildly,
"Tianwen is possessed of abundant spiritual energy. Even Samadhi True
Fire
2
couldn't hope to burn it, much less an ordinary fire spell such as this."
Li Wuxin opened his mouth, then closed it. But in the end, he refused to
back down so easily, and opened it again. "I, too, have heard about this
incident at Peach Blossom Springs. Word has it that Sisheng Peak's Mogongzi murdered the Great Immortal Lord of the feathered tribe."
"Oi, I didn't kill anyone." Mo Ran raised his hands defensively.
Xue Zhengyong, visibly displeased, was unyielding on this matter. "As
I've already explained to the other sects, this was not my nephew's doing. Lizhuangzhu, the next time you bring it up, I won't be so polite."
His reaction seemed to stir some memory in Mo Ran's mind. He
stilled, and a flicker of something indiscernible flashed through those
habitually smiling eyes. "Uncle…" he muttered.
"The incident at Peach Blossom Springs was a set-up," said Chu
Wanning. "The situation was chaotic, and I was afforded no opportunity to
defend my disciple's innocence. But, today, since Bitan Manor has come all
this way seeking the truth, I will certainly tell you the whole tale."
In the wavering candlelight of the lamps, Chu Wanning offered a
concise summary of the events of Jincheng Lake and Peach Blossom Springs.
By the time he finished, the disciples of Bitan Manor were stunned
speechless, and Li Wuxin was sweating so profusely that his clothes were
soaked through. He dithered for a while, then asked, "Does Chu-zongshi
mean to say there's someone in the world at this very moment who has
mastered one of the three forbidden techniques, the Zhenlong Chess
Formation?"
"That is correct."
"But how can that be?! It's a forbidden technique! E-even the leader of
the Rufeng Sect, first in the cultivation world, would be hard-pressed to
acquire the scroll for such a thing—"
Chu Wanning cut him off. "I have spoken nothing but the truth. Whether
you believe or not is up to you."
"Impossible." Li Wuxin insisted, his face pale. He guffawed loudly
through trembling lips, as if by doing so he could convince himself this was
an unfortunate joke. "If there's really someone out there who has mastered the
Zhenlong Chess Formation, the world will be thrown into disarray.
Everything in the upper and lower cultivation realms alike is in danger of
being rewritten!"
Ex-Emperor Taxian-jun was a little miffed. "That guy only knows it, he
hasn't 'mastered' it. If he had, would things still be so peaceful now?"
Li Wuxin's whiskers quivered, and he had just opened his mouth to
retort when a sword flashed in through the door. A Bitan disciple, clothes
bloody, stumbled off it. The disciple coughed up a mouthful of blood before
raising his tear-streaked face to Li Wuxin.
"Zhuangzhu," he cried, "it's terrible! The barrier you erected around
Butterfly Town has shattered! Vicious spirits rushed out, and my seniors used
their own bodies to block the spirits' escape, but my shixiong…all thirty of
them who were guarding the barrier…sacrificed themselves to hold back the
ghosts. Only I was left to bring the news…" He drew in deep, shuddering
breaths, then raised his voice in a piteous wail. "Zhuangzhu! Hurry—notify
all the sects of the upper cultivation realm! Every dead soul in that town is
being controlled! It's a forbidden technique! A forbidden technique!"
"What?!" Li Wuxin stumbled backward into a pillar, as pale and
haggard as a corpse dumped from its coffin.
"There's no way we can hold them off by ourselves…" The disciple
wept miserably, his tears washing the blood from his face. "Zhuangzhu!" He
suddenly noticed Xue Zhengyong, and turned to grovel toward him as well.
"Xue-zhangmen, I'm begging, please come too! All of my shixiong… I…
how can I face them…" He rambled incoherently for a few more seconds,
then closed his eyes and howled at the sky in grief. "They're all…they're all
dead!"
The hall was deathly silent for a beat. Then it burst into an uproar.
Xue Zhengyong was ever level-headed in the face of disaster. He
immediately directed Madam Wang to send messages to the remaining eight
great sects of the upper cultivation realm, and put Xue Meng in charge of
gathering the elders.
"Chu Wanning?" Xue Zhengyong turned to him next.
"There's no time to waste. I'll go first."
"But you don't know how to ride swords…"
Before Chu Wanning could reply, Mo Ran rushed over, eager to meet
this so-called master of Zhenlong Chess Formation. "Don't worry, Uncle, I'll
take Shizun."
Chu Wanning cast him a glance but said nothing—silent assent.
The two strode out of the hall side by side. Shi Mei stood frozen in
place for a long moment, face pale, before snapping out of it and saying, "Mme too…"
But by the time he ran outside Loyalty Hall, they were gone.
Xue Zhengyong called him back and told him not to run off alone. All Shi
Mei could do was go after Xue Meng and wait to leave with the second
group.
As for Bitan Manor, Li Wuxin had lived his life in luxury—never once
had he run into anything as big as this. But the old fart still wanted to save
face. He drew in a deep breath to collect himself, then set about giving
instructions. He had someone care for the messenger disciple and others
contact the elders of his own sect, gathering his forces in hopes of making a
good showing at Butterfly Town and thereby regaining some dignity.
The assembly set off from Sisheng Peak in force, rushing across the
sky toward Butterfly Town like hundreds of shooting stars. From where Li
Wuxin stood on his sword at the head of the fleet as they flew through the
clouds, he couldn't resist stealing a sidelong glance at the disciples of the
foremost sect of the lower cultivation realm. Never had he expected to one
day march into battle alongside such riffraff, the very people he had looked
down upon all his life. For a moment, his feelings were rather complicated.
Traveling by swift sword, the group traversed a thousand miles in a blink.
Soon the clouds before them parted to reveal a stream of bloody demonic
light shooting straight up toward the sky, and Li Wuxin had no more thought to
spare for matters of the upper or lower cultivation realm.
Floating in midair was an enormous, glimmering array of crimson light
the length and breadth of the town itself, delineated neatly into the checkered
squares of a chessboard. On that chessboard, like so many carved figurines,
hovered the silhouettes of the dead townsfolk: five hundred households, over
one thousand souls, hanging in the air like a dense forest of human flesh.
Li Wuxin cried out despite himself. "I-it really is…Zhenlong Chess
Formation!"
Xue Zhengyong, his expression dark, turned to the Bitan Manor leader.
"Li-zhuangzhu, I'll take my people to the southeast side, but we'll have to
trouble you to handle the northwest. We must hold out till the other sects
arrive."
There were more pressing matters at hand than Xue Zhengyong's
presumptuous use of we, so Li Wuxin merely nodded. "Got it, got it."
Xue Zhengyong cupped his fist in his hand respectfully, then led the
disciples of Sisheng Peak out of the clouds to alight on the southeast side of
Butterfly Town. The defensive barrier that Bitan Manor's disciples had bled
and died for was nigh on the verge of collapse, the field of its spiritual
energy weakening by the minute. Beyond the translucent barrier roamed
masses of walking corpses.
"Chu Wanning!" Xue Zhengyong caught sight of a man standing before
the barrier in fluttering white robes beside a figure in silver-blue light armor.
"What's the matter?" he called out. "Is the barrier irreparable?"
Chu Wanning had been on the scene for some time. The number one
zongshi of barriers was standing right there—Xue Zhengyong couldn't
understand why this one was still in such a sorry state. But his calls raised no
response. Xue Zhengyong was about to try again when Mo Ran turned and
gestured for him to be silent. "Uncle, shh. Come over here."
Xue Zhengyong walked over. "What is it?"
"Don't disturb him." Mo Ran pointed at Chu Wanning. Although he
stood straight and tall, his eyes were closed and his palms were pressed
together before his chest, his lips completely colorless.
Xue Zhengyong started. He reached out to feel for a pulse at the side of
Chu Wanning's neck, then asked in alarm, "Soul Projection?"
"Yeah. It's all ghosts in there, a couple thousand of them. But we
couldn't find Luo Xianxian, so she's probably farther into town. We don't
know what's happening yet, or what that guy is plotting, so he went to ask
Luo Xianxian."
"The girl is already a vicious ghost gone berserk! What's there to
ask!" Xue Zhengyong smacked his own thigh in anger. "Reinforcing the
barrier is more important right now!"
"Don't!" Mo Ran said sharply. "Shizun temporarily cast his soul out
using Soul Projection precisely because it's all dead people in there. This
way, he can slip in without alerting the enemy. If we reinforce the barrier
now, he'll be killed!"
"What?!" Xue Zhengyong exclaimed, panicked. "Stay right here and
keep an eye on him; I'll go tell Li Wuxin!"
Mo Ran nodded. "I'll send up a blue signal as soon as Shizun's soul
returns; then we can start mending the barrier from all directions. But before
that, Uncle, you must under no circumstances allow them to mend it. If they
do, the thousands of ghosts will go into a frenzy. Shizun is just a bodiless
soul in there; he won't be able to defend himself."
"I know! I know already!" Before he'd even finished his reply,
Xue Zhengyong had already sped away toward Li Wuxin.
Mo Ran raised his eyes to look at that barrier on the brink of failure.
"We're running out of time." Mo Ran turned and spoke to him in a low
voice. "You must have found Luo Xianxian by now, right, Shizun?" In his
worry, Mo Ran reached out without thinking to close his warm hand around
Chu Wanning's ice-cold one. "Just a little longer…"
It was then that Shi Mei touched down nearby with Xue Meng and the
rest. When he looked up from the crowd, he was greeted by the unexpected
sight of the pair before the barrier, hands entwined. He froze, and the color
drained from his face. He bit down on his lip and slowly turned his head
away.