Chapter 281

"Yes, I am the Nine Heavens Maiden." Murong Jia Jia lightly opened her vermilion lips, somewhat bewildered, saying: "I have remembered now; I am the Nine Heavens Maiden of the Nine Heavens Sect, Tu Yu was my master in my past life. The dream I had was real!"

"That dream, is it the dream of mountains of corpses and seas of blood that you and I talked about?" I suddenly recalled the dream Murong Jia Jia had spoken of that night.

Murong Jia Jia nodded, gave a bitter smile, and said: "Yes, I have remembered now; during this period I have been utterly confused. This dream also repeatedly reappeared in my mind. Only then did I realize that I was actually the bloodthirsty Nine Heavens Maiden of that year."

"The Nine Heavens Maiden is not a fusion of the Nine Yang Physique and the Nine Yin Star; rather, the Nine Yin and Nine Yang unite as one, the souls of two people dwelling together in one body." Murong Jia Jia recalled, pointing at her own nose: "I am the soul of the Nine Heavens Maiden who was defeated by Tu Yu and sealed by the Ancestral Celestial Master Zhang Daoling back then; I am the Nine Yang soul, and as long as I unite with a Nine Yin body, I can become the Nine Heavens Maiden of that era again."

"Murong, you mean Yuan Yang wants your soul in order to resurrect the Nine Heavens Maiden?" Pangzi jumped up.

Murong Jia Jia remained silent, but her very gloominess fully explained the issue. Analyzing this way, Yuan Yang fed Yi Rong spiritual bone marrow, using resentment to refine her soul and body, aiming to make her lose her original nature, so that her body and soul would merge with Murong Jia Jia's. Yi Rong should be the Nine Yin. When Nine Yin and Nine Yang unite as one, they become the Nine Heavens God. Therefore, Yuan Yang didn't kill Easygoing Uncle but caused them to fall unconscious; all this makes sense.

It was merely to make me hesitate, personally delivering Murong Jia Jia into his hands. He was very cautious, fearing that Yuan Qiu might leak something from my mouth, and in a fit of anger he killed Murong Jia Jia.

"Kill me, then; it's all because of me that you've ended up like this." Murong Jia Jia closed her eyes and extended her fair neck.

I and Pangzi stared at each other for a long while, but neither of us picked up the sword in our hands; we simply couldn't bring ourselves to strike.

"Clang, clang..." Little Fat, wearing a red dudou, toddled out of the room with small steps; his chubby cheeks were streaked with tears, he took my hand and called out clang-clang, while his other hand also grasped Murong Jia Jia's hand.

"Little Fat, don't worry, I won't kill Miss Murong." I pulled Little Fat into my embrace. Raising my head, I shook my head at Murong Jia Jia and said: "This has nothing to do with you; everything is Yuan Yang's plot. You, like everyone else, are merely a victim." After a pause, I took a deep breath, with self-mockery, saying: "If it weren't for you, we probably wouldn't have survived to now."

"Mm..." Murong Jia Jia merely gave me a slight nod.

I stood up, walked out the doorway, gazed at the lonely night sky, and fell into contemplation. Over these many years of ups and downs, I have learned to stay calm and think. All the cause-and-effect clues can explain the past. Yet there is still one strange point.

Yuan Yang's abilities reach the heavens; he could easily render QingSongShu and the Seventh Lord unconscious, and naturally could effortlessly take Murong Jia Jia's soul. But why does he go through all this useless trouble, using Yi Rong and QingSongShu to restrain me, making me obediently hand over Murong Jia Jia?

All this is superfluous; he fundamentally doesn't need to expend so much effort.

"Guiling Mountain..." As I was lost in thought, Pangzi muttered these three words, raised his head, and asked me: "Hai Sheng, do you know what Guiling Mountain is?"

Without even thinking, I immediately replied: "I know, it's a barren mountain north of this city, still undeveloped, remaining desolate to this day; within a radius of several tens of li, there isn't a single inhabited area."

After I answered, Pangzi propped his chin, shook his head decisively: "No, desolation is a recent notion; but before the Qingming Yuan Song, this was a burial ground for ten thousand people. In the Song dynasty, it was the execution ground for criminals. In the Yuan dynasty, Mongol troops buried countless Han corpses here. By the time of the Qing dynasty and the Republic revolution, this place had been soaked in innumerable blood."

"It's not that no one wants to develop it; it's that no one dares to. This place is heavy with resentment and vengeful spirits, the city's yin eye, an Asura hell." Pangzi rested his chin, puzzled, asking me: "What do you think Yuan Yang chose this place for?"

I also felt doubtful in my heart, and pondered carefully. In feng shui, a yin eye refers to a place where yin energy gathers, usually a chaotic grave mound or an ancient battlefield where people often died. The sun's yang energy can suppress and evaporate yin energy. Moreover, a yin eye basically has a special location; when resentment hasn't dissipated and stacks up again, plus special geographical conditions, it becomes a death ground.

"What is Yuan Yang doing with such a place?" I racked my brains, and just then my master's feeble whisper before death surfaced in my mind: "Yin Mountain Guilt Knot".

"No, what my master meant was probably the Yin Mountain Ghost Realm, the heavenly treasury. Yuan Yang intends to use this place as a boundary, to summon myriad evil spirits and wicked ghosts as his Asura troops." My hands and feet went numb, my whole body trembled, especially when I recalled that a month ago, Yao Wenju casually mentioned to me that the Yao family, while purchasing Song dynasty soldier-and-horse terracotta figures and Song dynasty military weapons, my body had sunk into a chill.

What does he intend to do? Summon myriad evil spirits, cultivate an army of corpses for all ages? Wouldn't he fear heavenly retribution? Moreover, the secret art of commanding the Yin Mountain's troops from the heavenly treasury—hasn't it already vanished from the world? How could it still exist here?

"Hai Sheng... Hai Sheng, what's wrong with you?" Pangzi shoved the dazed me. I came back to my senses with a blank stare, exclaimed "Ah!", and asked Pangzi in surprise: "You, you said what?"

Just now, when I lost consciousness, I didn't hear clearly what Pangzi was saying at all. When I came to, Pangzi pulled me and said: "I just thought of a method that might work against him."

"Um, what method?" I asked blankly.

Pangzi rubbed his chin, raised two fingers, and said: "Invite a child attendant?"

"Invite a child attendant?"

"Exactly, that's right, it's inviting a child attendant." Pangzi confirmed again: "I want to try inviting the Huaguang Ancestral Master to possess someone; perhaps then we can stand against him."

"As for you." Pangzi slung an arm around my shoulder, but with a disdainful tone: "Your Ghost Immortal Great Emperor, Yin Mountain Marquis, and such are all yin deities, incomparable to the Huaguang Ancestral Master. Don't get involved, lest those yin deities you summon just arrive, and before the Huaguang Ancestral Master annihilates the enemy, he'll strike you down first."

"Eh... En, fine, then the plan will be entirely up to you; I'll just help out behind the scenes." Looking at Pangzi, I replied with a silly laugh.

Pangzi burst into loud laughter: "That's right, come on, brothers, let's drink a few more cups. After we finish, we'll head to the battlefield; that bastard Yuan Yang, killing him will be as easy as slaughtering a chicken." Pangzi laughed loudly, walked into the room to fetch wine.

After Pangzi left, I raised my head to gaze at the Huaguang portrait, my heart filled with an indescribable complex sorrow.

I know this; Pangzi doesn't want me to die together with him. All that talk about the Yin Mountain Marquis being inferior to the Huaguang Ancestral Master is just empty words. I'm afraid that tomorrow, the one who will take Murong Jia Jia to Guiling Mountain will be only Pangzi himself.

You go to die alone, letting me live—what's the point of that?

Not long after, Pangzi burst into loud laughter, took out several bottles of Moutai from the room, clamoring to set up the wine table, waving at me and shouting: "Come on, brothers, let's have a few drinks tonight."

"Sure, but these few bottles aren't enough; I'll go get a few more." I smiled, pretending not to know anything, while my heart bled. This was the first time we two brothers had said one thing but meant another.

Returning to the room, I took out the several bottles of wine that guests had given me. At the same time, I furtively opened the drawer, took out a small bottle of powder, and hid it in my fingernail.

This is the drug method using bamboo leaf green liquor, a false pretense; by using Chinese medicine to create the illusion of a thousand-pound weight, drinking a bit makes one drowsily sleep for three days and three nights. I don't know how to apply the thousand-pound weight to the bamboo leaf green liquor, so I can only rely on these Chinese medicines to knock Pangzi out.

"Don't blame me; you can't bear to watch me go to my death, and I can't bear to watch you die in my place." I let out a long sigh in my heart, placed the medicine powder in my fingernail and hid it well, then took the wine and walked out.