Chapter 493

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 all tell that this iron plaque came from the Plowshare Witch Sect within the folk Daoist tradition, no one ever linked this iron plaque to the Yao family. After all, the folk Daoist tradition does not rely on orthodox Daoist temples; it is passed down from father to son, master to disciple. The disciple might have been someone from another province who came to study, learned the craft, and then transmitted the Witch Sect's teachings elsewhere. Thus, the inheritance of the folk Daoist tradition is not confined to a single place or a single surname.

The Plowshare Witch Sect is the same; although the Yao family belongs to a hereditary line of the Plowshare Witch Sect, we cannot rule out that there are still inheritors of the Plowshare Witch Sect in the folk communities of Guizhou, Yunnan, and elsewhere. If we simply conclude, based on those four words 'Plowshare Witch Sect,' that the incident at Yang Family Tomb was the Yao family's doing, that would indeed be 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 matter concerning the Yang Family Tomb is very likely related to the Yao family, and the Yao family could very well be the mastermind behind it.

Sitting in the room, I was utterly perplexed. After thinking for a long time, I realized that continuing to ponder on my own wouldn't work; perhaps we should go look for Yao Wenju?

After this idea arose, 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 matter really was done by Yao Wenju, do you think he would openly admit it to you?'

What Pangzi said made sense. Ask yourself: if you go ask a bad person, are you a bad person? Did you do this bad deed? Unless you're an idiot, I don't think anyone would admit it.

After I suppressed the impulse to go look for Yao Wenju, Pangzi said this: 'This matter might actually be related to the Yao family.'

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

Pangzi nodded, 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, not a hint of surprise—just an 'oh'—and then he brought us to the Yang family's manor.

'Yes, very bland, overly bland.' Pangzi said, thinking: 'Consider this: 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. If so, why would his face show not even a hint of surprise when the Yang family was mentioned?'

He paused, then Pangzi 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 is naturally cold‑hearted; but if it is related? Then it only shows…'

'Sun Miao is deliberately concealing…' I looked at Pangzi, and we almost spoke those words in unison.

'Mm,' 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, 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 are ordinary people; if they truly faced sorcerers and witch‑masters, they would be utterly inadequate.

After that night's lesson, Pangzi and I no longer dared to be careless; 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, we will be the ones to face them. We prepare things in advance precisely to counter them. One might ask, aren't their abilities seemingly higher than ours? Would preparing magical treasures be useful?

In fact, Han Duo's and Wu Fei's strengths are not necessarily greater than Pangzi's and mine. Moreover, even if they were stronger, in our line of work it's not true that greater strength guarantees an absolute advantage or certain victory. Everything has weaknesses and variables.

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

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

Take myself as an example: having cultivated the Yin Mountain Method, I too have a fatal weak point, but it is very hidden—I don't speak of it, and no one knows. If I were to duel a novice Daoist 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 would be uncertain for anyone.

In the Daoist Sect's legends there is a saying: 'Heaven gives the Great Dao forty‑nine, leaving only a sliver of life; man contends for it.' You might think this Daoist saying is 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 strong person, any formation, likewise has variables. Including human fate, divine calculation of elements, or the iron‑mouth judgment of life and death—any divinatory method dare not guarantee its predictions are 100 % accurate, precisely because of that sliver of vitality, that thread of variability.

After dipping brush in ink to finish the talismans aimed at Han Duo and Wu Fei, and packing 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 Pangzi, QingSongShu, and me, the tomb was guarded by dozens of well‑trained, stalwart men. Although these subordinates were specially hired from certain agencies, some of them were more likely mercenaries. But if we truly could not resolve something, or if we encountered ghosts or monsters, they would be utterly inadequate.

As night fell quietly, those guards took up positions around the tomb's perimeter, while Pangzi, QingSongShu, and I sat cross‑legged beside the Yang family ancestral tomb; before us, QingSongShu had laid out a formation with stones.

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

Moonlight gently showered down a white radiance, falling upon that serpentine object, and finally a tiny bit merged into the mist. After being nourished, the serpentine apparition grew ever denser. The surrounding plants seemed to exhale a breath, leaning toward this great serpent.

Except for Pangzi, QingSongShu, and me, none of the guards present could see this scene. Of course, QingSongShu could certainly see it more clearly than we could.

The Teng serpent apparition 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 appeared on the horizon, we glanced at our watches—it was already past five o'clock.

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

I thought that way, assuming this night would pass peacefully and uneventfully; but 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 obscure caves, the guards, besides focusing on the tomb's center, had dispersed their manpower to guard the mountain exits and caves, trying to hold every possible passage into the Yang family burial mound.

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 tactic of luring the tiger away from the mountain. You stay here; I and Hai Sheng will go check.' Pangzi said that, then 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 at their 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, and within a few minutes we reached the place where the scream had come from. Around us on the ground lay several corpses twisted this way and that, without exception their faces bluish‑black, blood spurting from their mouths.

At a small mountain pass ahead, we saw a black‑clad figure grappling with a guard; in an instant, the guard was struck down by a single slap from the black‑clad man and collapsed dead.

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

When we arrived, the black‑clad man instantly killed the guard who had been grappling with him; we saw him, and he saw us. Apparently not wishing to entangle with us, he immediately turned and fled in another direction.

'Chase!' Pangzi bellowed, without hesitation he surged forward, and I followed close behind; the two of us pursued the mysterious black‑clad man relentlessly.