Chapter 409

Inside the house, aside from the black-clad sturdy man who had previously attacked Yuan Qiu with a knife, there were two other black-clad individuals whose formidable aura and sharp movements showed they were no ordinary thugs, possibly even former soldiers.

However, even if they came from a military background, inside this house besides Pangzi, who is skilled in internal martial arts, there's also the troublesome Little Fat, so these assassins absolutely won't gain any advantage.

The moment we entered the house, the three black-clad assassins simultaneously raised their knives and stabbed at us. Their movements were uniform, showing they were well-trained. Each blade targeted a different person: me, Pangzi, and Yuan Qiu.

However, the assassins' attempt quickly failed.

The nearest one was shaken off by Pangzi's backhand, who then snatched away the dagger; another was sent flying by a punch from the violent Little Fat.

The one closest to me was slammed against the wall by a gust of yin wind. This was Murong Jiaja's doing—she merely blew a breath at the assassin.

"Tell me, who are you people?" Pangzi demanded, gripping one assassin's shoulder and choking his throat.

"Hmph..." the black-clad assassin coldly snorted, then his head weakly drooped.

Upon inspection, however, black blood was seen slowly seeping from the corner of the assassin's mouth.

Pangzi's face changed; he pried open the assassin's mouth and exclaimed involuntarily, "Poison fang!"

At the same time, the remaining two assassins, whose mission had failed, simultaneously crushed the poison fangs hidden in their mouths and committed suicide.

From the assassination to their deaths, the whole process took less than five minutes. In those five minutes, the three assassins went from hunters to corpses.

This scene made us feel the situation was grave, even extraordinary; we had initially thought it was just thieves breaking in, but the three black-clad individuals' actions and bearing clearly showed they were trained assassins sent specifically against the three of us.

"What now?" I asked, spreading my hands as I stared at the three corpses on the floor, still dazed after a moment.

"What else can we do? Let's call the police first!" Pangzi said, walking to the phone and preparing to dial the emergency number.

At that moment, Yuan Qiu suddenly pointed at one of the black-clad men and shouted in terror, "It's him, it's him—I remember him."

Pangzi and I exchanged a bewildered look—could it be that this assassin knew Yuan Qiu?

Next, Yuan Qiu's words struck like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, hitting Pangzi and me hard.

"I remember him; he's a bodyguard of Wuchang Ge," Yuan Qiu said, his face ashen.

Pangzi and I stepped up to him in unison and asked, "Are you really sure he's Wuchang Ge's bodyguard?"

Yuan Qiu nodded without hesitation: "That's right. I remember when we first met Wuchang Ge, he was standing guard outside the mahjong parlor. I even accidentally bumped into him when I went in—I couldn't possibly be mistaken."

Yuan Qiu's renewed certainty made Pangzi and me frown. Pangzi pondered for a moment and worried, "Could something have changed in the Eastern Mausoleum, or has someone betrayed Wuchang Ge? I have to call him to let him know."

Having said that, he moved to call Fan Wuchang, but before he could dial the number, a large hand pressed down on the keypad.

"Hai Sheng, what do you mean?" Pangzi looked at me, bewildered, as I was the one holding down the dial.

I shook my head and said solemnly to Pangzi, "Pangzi, don't call yet—this isn't that simple."

Pangzi and Yuan Qiu looked at me in unison, astonished, and asked, "What do you mean by that?"

I didn't answer; instead, I lowered my head and fell into deep thought.

After a long while, I gave a wry smile and asked Pangzi, "Don't you find Wuchang Ge's behavior strange last night at the hot pot restaurant? Whether openly or implicitly, his words kept urging us to leave Aomen today. Yet we didn't leave, and the assassins came tonight."

Having said that, I ran over to the corpses and tore open their shoulders.

With a puff, a pattern of crossed axes appeared before our eyes—every assassin's shoulder bore this tattoo without exception.

This is the emblem of the Eastern Mausoleum Society. I had merely guessed they were from the Eastern Mausoleum, and before tearing their clothes I still harbored a sliver of hope. Once the clothes were ripped open, that hope vanished instantly; their identities were clear—they were clearly internal members of the Eastern Mausoleum.

"Fan Wuchang, Fan Wuchang, why would you do this!" At that moment, the image of a black-clad figure—slightly cold yet at times incredibly dull—flashed through my mind. Thinking of him, a hint of disappointment and confusion crossed my heart.

What disappoints me is that I underestimated the place Pangzi and I hold in his heart; I never imagined that our bond of life-and-death could shatter in an instant. Just moments before, we had been happily eating hot pot together, yet that night he unhesitatingly sent assassins to kill us.

Beyond disappointment, I am even more perplexed: what could be his motive for doing this? What does he gain by killing us? Or has he betrayed the Eastern Mausoleum, or is his ambition swollen, desiring to seize the dragon's throne?

"Damn it, they say black‑hat people have no conscience, and now I finally see it—not just lacking conscience, but outright wolf‑hearted and dog‑lunged! I even ended up frozen into an ice sculpture by that Nine Yin Formation while trying to change my luck, and Hai Sheng almost got killed by the Twelve Banners." Pangzi slammed his thigh in fury: "Damn, if I'd known, I'd have taken back that 47,888. Now it's all gone to waste."

Me: …What time is it now? Can you be a bit reliable?

"Wait a minute, what did you just say?" Murong Jiaja, who had been teasing Little Fat on the side, suddenly spoke up, frowning and staring intently at Pangzi.

Pangzi scratched the back of his head and chuckled, "Nothing much—I was just complaining that Fan Wuchang still owes me forty‑seven thousand…"

"No, I meant the previous sentence!"

"My previous line…" Pangzi muttered, trying to recall, then suddenly said, "It's the Nine Yin Formation and the Twelve Banners—they were used to change the fortune of Chen Zheng's ancestral home."

"Nine Yin Formation, Twelve Banners—could you explain in detail how to set up this formation?" Murong Jiaja's face suddenly grew grave.

"Ugh…" Pangzi was at a loss for words, looking astonished at Murong Jiaja, not understanding why she suddenly asked about this.

"Pangzi, stop stalling—quickly tell Jiaja the principle behind this formation!" Something out of the ordinary must be suspicious; Murong Jiaja's expression made me feel there was more to this than meets the eye—at the very least, it certainly isn't as simple as it appears.

At my urging, Pangzi found a chair, sat down, and began to explain the principle of the Nine Yin Formation to Murong Jiaja.

After a long while, Murong Jiaja's face grew increasingly grave; even as a spirit, a pallor still showed on her visage.

"Pangzi, your teacher told me—where did you obtain this formation?" Murong Jiaja's voice had nearly vanished, and when she asked the question her tone trembled oddly.

"It's recorded in our family's inherited notes; during the late Republic era, an ancestor of my Old Wang family used this Nine Yin Formation to break the Feng Shui of a tract of extreme flame, and it was recorded in our clan genealogy, passed down through generations." Pangzi's tone could not hide his pride, completely oblivious to Murong Jiaja's grave expression as he boasted with flying spittle about the legendary glory of the Old Wang family.

After Pangzi finished recounting the glorious deeds of his Old Wang ancestor, Murong Jiaja finally sighed, looking at him with resignation: "Pangzi, what you said is correct—this formation can indeed improve the Feng Shui of a yang‑evil place. However, its name is not Nine Yin Formation but Nine Yin Twelve Yin Divine Formation."

In Murong Jiaja's tone, besides the exasperation toward Pangzi, a hint of trepidation flickered in her expression.

We all felt curious at once and hurriedly asked her what the difference was between the Nine Yin Twelve Yin Divine Formation and the Nine Yin Formation Pangzi had set up.

Murong Jia Jia glanced at us, slowly shook her head and said: "The difference isn't big; the Nine Yin Formation that Little Fat just mentioned is actually a fragment of the Nine Yin Twelve Yin Divine Formation, but..." She paused, then continued: "The origin of this Nine Yin Twelve Soul Formation is astonishingly huge; if we want to clarify its origin, we must start from the great war between the Yellow Emperor and the Jiuli Witch Tribe."

Eh... This is getting a bit far-fetched!, it's all related to the Yellow Emperor!

Ignoring the three people who stood dumbfounded like wooden chickens, Murong Jia Jia slowly exhaled and said with firm certainty, word by word: "Its origin is inseparably linked to the Witch Tribe's All-Heaven Twelve Gods and Evils Formation."

Murong Jia Jia's words plunged the three listeners into shock again, and immediately Pangzi let out a 'puchi' laugh, being the first to laugh out loud.

All-Heaven Twelve Gods and Evils Formation, haha, that's not just some plaything, right? I say, Miss Murong, so you ancient people also have... Pangzi slapped his thigh and laughed loudly, tears even streaming out.

Suddenly, two sharp gleams flashed in the air, shooting straight at Pangzi, making goosebumps rise all over his body, causing him to shudder without cold.

"Um, Miss Murong, please continue; I'll just crack a joke to liven up the atmosphere, yeah, that's right, I'll just liven up the atmosphere." Facing the deadly gazes of me and Murong Jia Jia, Pangzi hastily wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, feeling guilty.

I gave him a cold snort, then turned to Murong Jia Jia and said: "Continue, don't mind him."

In my view, although the All-Heaven Twelve Gods and Evils Formation seems somewhat illusory, I absolutely do not deny that it indeed exists in this world; within the Daoist Sect, the Two-Aspect Formation, Four Symbols Divine Formation, and Seven Stars Layout method have been passed down in some major sects.

To ordinary people, aren't these formations all illusory and boundless existences? Since these formations have been passed down, we also cannot deny the possibility of the existence of the All-Heaven Twelve Gods and Evils Great Formation.

Moreover, the Nine Yin Formation that Pangzi set up at Chen Zheng's ancestral home — outside the formation, aren't there twelve flags corresponding to the twelve directions, reflecting Chengdu's heavenly situation?

In my opinion, the reason Fan Wuchang sent assassins to kill us is undoubtedly related to this Nine Yin Formation, because on the night the formation was completed, he urged us to leave Aomen the next day. If you say there's no relation, even a fool wouldn't believe it.

And to understand the full story, to analyze Fan Wuchang's motive for killing us, we must clearly know the origin and function of this Nine Yin Formation, as well as the All-Heaven Twelve Divine Slaughter Formation that is closely related to it.

Then, the three of us sat quietly beside Murong Jiaja, listening to Murong Jiaja recount an ancient tale that sounded fantastical yet seemed to have actually happened.