Chapter 221

When I returned to the side room, I kept wondering whether this matter really had anything to do with Yao Wenju.

Perhaps it was someone under Yang Shouyi who got the message wrong.

Although when the iron talisman was dug up earlier we could tell that this iron plate came from the Plowshare Witch Sect within the folk magical tradition, no one linked this iron plate to the Yao family. After all, the folk magical tradition differs from orthodox Daoist temples, relying on father-son and master-disciple transmission; a disciple might be an outsider from another province who came to study, learned the arts, and then passed the witch sect's teachings elsewhere. Thus the transmission of the folk magical tradition is not confined to a single location or surname.

The Plowshare Witch Sect is the same; although the Yao family belongs to a hereditary line of the Plowshare Witch Sect, one cannot rule out that there are still inheritors of the Plowshare Witch Sect among the folk in places like Guizhou and Yunnan. To conclude that the incident at Yang Family Mausoleum was done by the Yao family solely based on those four words "Plowshare Witch Sect" is indeed too hasty.

However, according to Yang Shouyi, the Yao family indeed had a dispute over interests with the Yang family. Moreover, Yao Wenju once sent people to Yang Family Village in the dead of night. No one knows exactly what they were doing, but if this is true, then the incident at the Yang Family Mausoleum is very likely related to the Yao family, and the Yao family could very well be the mastermind.

Sitting in the room, I couldn't figure it out. After thinking for a long time, I realized that continuing to ponder alone wouldn't work; perhaps we should go look for Yao Wenju.

After this idea came up, I told Pangzi what I was thinking. Unexpectedly, Pangzi shook his head and said, "Never mind whether you could actually get any clues; furthermore, if this really was done by Yao Wenju, do you think he'd openly admit it to you?"

What Pangzi said makes sense; ask yourself, if you go question a bad person, are you a bad person? Did you do that bad deed? Unless you're an idiot, I doubt anyone would admit it.

After I suppressed the urge to go look for Yao Wenju, Pangzi said this: "Maybe this matter really is related to the Yao family."

I asked him, "How did you come up with that idea?" Pangzi said, "Do you still remember Sun Miao? The driver who brought us here." I said I remember; what's wrong, does Sun Miao have a problem?

Pangzi nodded and then asked me, "Think back—when we were in the car, Sun Miao asked where we wanted to go, and when you said Yang Shouren's name, what was his reaction?"

I thought carefully; Sun Miao's reaction from the start was very bland, without a hint of surprise, just an "oh," and then he brought us to the Yang family's manor.

"Yes, very bland, overly bland." Pangzi pondered and said to me, "Think about it: if the Yao and Yang families had a dispute over interests because of the casino, then as Yao Wenju's confidant, Sun Miao couldn't possibly not know about this; indeed, as a confidant, he must have helped the Yao family seize interests in that struggle. So why, when mentioning the Yang family, did his face show not even a trace of surprise?"

Pangzi paused, then continued shaking his head and said slowly, "If this matter has nothing to do with the Yao family, then it can only be said that Sun Miao's nature is naturally cold; but if it is related? Then it can only indicate…"

"Sun Miao is deliberately covering up…" I looked at Pangzi, and we almost spoke those words in unison.

"En," Pangzi nodded and said, "So we can't do anything now, or we might inadvertently provoke both sides' sensitivities. If we really must do something, then all we can do is wait and see!"

"Then we have no choice." I sighed, sat in the chair, and lit a cigarette.

Not long after, QingSongShu also walked over to our room. QingSongShu said that tonight we three still need to go guard the Yang Family Ancestral Tomb for another night. After all, those bodyguards and thugs are ordinary people; if they truly faced sorcerers and witchcraft practitioners, they would be nowhere near enough.

After learning from that night's lesson, neither I nor Pangzi dared be careless again; we prepared our equipment in advance. Although QingSongShu was beside us, we had no intention of relying on him. Likewise, QingSongShu hoped that when we encountered difficulties we would have the ability to cope on our own; only then could we grow.

Therefore, if Han Duo and Wu Fei appear again, the ones facing them will definitely be me and Pangzi. We prepare things in advance precisely to counter them. Someone might ask, their strength seems higher than ours—would preparing magical treasures be useful?

Actually, Han Duo and Wu Fei's strength is not necessarily greater than mine and Pangzi's. Moreover, even if their strength were greater, in our line of work it's not true that higher strength guarantees an absolute advantage or certain victory. Everything has weaknesses and variables.

For example, the mountain sprite ghosts summoned by Han Duo may surpass ordinary soldiers, but their fatal weakness is fire. Wu Fei's slaughter god banner can be broken if you simply avoid looking at the eyes on the flag.

Thus, any spell, any person, even if they possess strength several times ours, still has weaknesses; even against enemies impervious to blades and spears, there is likewise a fatal opening.

Take myself as an example: since I began cultivating the Yin Mountain Method, I also have a fatal weakness, but it is very concealed; I don't speak of it, and no one knows. If I were to duel a novice Daoist Sect disciple with shallow cultivation, I would certainly have the advantage. But if during the duel he discovered my weakness, he could find a way to counter me, and the final outcome of victory or defeat is uncertain for anyone.

In the Daoist Sect's legends there is a saying that has been passed down: "The innate Great Dao is forty-nine, leaving only a sliver of life; people contend for it." You might consider this Daoist saying as unreliable as a myth, but I tell you, the fact is exactly so.

The Great Dao is not perfect; that remaining sliver is both vitality and variable. Any formation is not an absolute dead formation; it has a life gate and variables. Any powerful person, formation techniques, likewise have variables. Including human fate—whether divine calculation or iron‑mouth life‑death divination—any prognostic method dares not guarantee 100% accuracy, precisely because of that sliver of vitality, that trace of variability.

After dipping the brush in ink and preparing talismans aimed at Han Duo and Wu Fei, and readying the Eight Trigrams Mirror, Copper Coin Sword, and other magical treasures, we had dinner and then, under the escort of Yang Shouren's men, returned once more to the Yang Family Ancestral Tomb.

This time, besides me, QingSongShu, and Pangzi, the tomb was guarded by dozens of well‑trained, burly men. Although these subordinates were specially hired from certain agencies, some of them are more likely mercenaries. But if we truly couldn't handle something, or if we encountered ghosts or monsters, they would be utterly inadequate.

As night fell quietly, those guards stood at the tomb's perimeter, while I, Pangzi, and QingSongShu sat cross‑legged beside the Yang Family Ancestral Tomb; in front of us lay a formation that QingSongShu had laid out with stones.

Around the hour of chou (1–3 am), the spirit apparition of the Yang family tomb appeared again, condensing upward from the river, starting from the left side of the Yang Mausoleum; mist spread in all directions and finally coalesced into something resembling a serpentine form.

Moonlight gently shed a white radiance, falling upon that serpentine shape; the last bit merged into the mist. After being nourished, the serpentine spirit grew ever denser. The surrounding plants seemed to exhale a breath, leaning toward this great serpent.

Aside from me, Pangzi, and QingSongShu, the guards present could not see this scene. Of course, QingSongShu certainly perceived it more clearly than we did.

The Teng serpent spirit lingered for only an hour before dissipating again. Tonight, the Teng serpent's absorption of heavenly and earthly spiritual qi proceeded extremely smoothly, without the slightest hindrance.

We all kept watch at the tomb, nobody leaving; when a glimmer of dawn whitened the sky, we glanced at our watches—it was already about five o'clock.

I suppose Wu Fei and Han Duo realized we had strengthened our defenses, so they dared not come cause trouble again.

I thought that way, assuming this night would pass peacefully without incident; unexpectedly, when I lowered my watch and lifted my head, a blood‑curdling scream suddenly rang out from the distance.

That scream came from one of the guards stationed at the northwest corner, several hundred meters away from us. Because the area around the Yang Family Ancestral Tomb also has some rugged mountains and little‑known caves, the guards, besides focusing on the tomb's center, had dispersed their manpower to guard the mountain entrances and caverns, doing their best to seal every possible passage into the Yang Family Grave.

Upon hearing the scream, the surrounding guards immediately ran toward that direction—but then came more cries of people falling and rising in anguish.

"Dad, to prevent a repeat of last night, this is the enemy's 'feign an attack to lure the tiger away from the mountain' ploy. You stay here; I and Hai Sheng will go check." After Pangzi said that, he and I picked up our gear and ran toward the source of the sound.

At five or six o'clock, when our spirits were most relaxed after guarding all night and everyone was exhausted, the enemy chose this moment to strike—truly picking an excellent opportunity.

Pangzi and I summoned our strength; within a few minutes we reached the place where the scream had come from. On the surrounding ground lay several bodies twisted this way and that, without exception their faces dark‑blue, vomiting blood.

Ahead, at a small mountain pass, we saw a black‑clad figure grappling with a guard; in an instant the guard was slapped by the black‑clad person and collapsed dead.

This striking method was no ordinary martial‑arts point strike; it was practically the Five Thunder Resentment Strike beyond the Mysterious Strike, a single blow that kills, utterly vicious.

When we arrived, the black‑clad person also instantly killed the guard he was entangled with; we saw him, and he saw us. Apparently not wishing to entangle with us, the black‑clad figure immediately turned and fled in another direction.

"Chase…" Pangzi bellowed, without hesitation he surged forward; I followed close behind, and the two of us relentlessly pursued that mysterious black‑clad figure.