Chapter 169: The Funeral Assistants

Shi Bading gripped his sword with both hands and raised it high above his head.

With a single stride, he covered two zhang.

Behind him, the greasy black, white, and gray substance was spreading rapidly, about to catch up to Shi Bading.

But Shi Bading had already charged forward like thunder, reaching the grotesque old woman.

"Hah!"

He roared and brought his sword down in a single slash.

The old woman's twisted face contorted beneath the blade, revealing utter terror.

She raised her cane as if to block it.

But the cane cracked in half with a sharp sound.

The great sword continued its descent, cleaving the old woman cleanly in two.

"Aaaah—"

The old woman let out a piercing scream.

From her split body, no blood flowed out.

Each half softened, turning into two lumps of greasy sludge—black, white, and gray.

Only then did Shi Bading's mount catch up.

Shi Bading leapt like a springing radish, spinning midair before landing firmly on the saddle, then spurring the horse into a wild gallop.

The two lumps of sludge slowly hardened.

The patch of black, white, and gray grease on the ground vanished as well.

The Captains who had sunk halfway into the grease suddenly came to their senses, realizing they were buried up to their waists in earth!

"Ahh!" they cried out, shaken with dread, and strained to pull themselves free from the soil.

Shi Bading paid them no mind, charging straight ahead.

It was as if… once his charge began, it could not be stopped or turned back.

Xu Yuan and his men caught up; one Captain leaned from his saddle, grabbed a fallen comrade, and used the horse's momentum to yank him clear.

Whether it was Shi Bading's aura that frightened the lurking evils, or mere luck, for the next dozen li of galloping, no other malevolent force appeared.

This was the advantage of Wu Xiu: their blood-drenched aura appeared terrifying to malevolent spirits.

If a spirit judged it lacked absolute certainty of victory, it dared not emerge to cause mischief.

Unless it was one of those utterly deranged…

As Xu Yuan was thinking this, a sudden "Enzhi—" sounded from the darkness—a huqin note.

Shi Bading's steed inexplicably tripped over its own front legs.

Boom!

The horse collapsed, flinging Shi Bading into the air.

Shi Bading spread his arms, gliding low like a falcon before landing steadily on his feet.

He raised his great sword.

"Enzhi—"

Another huqin note rang out in midair; Shi Bading's legs buckled, and he crashed to his knees with a thud!

"What devilry is this!?" Shi Bading roared in fury, powering his legs to leap back into the air.

But the moment he landed, the huqin sounded again!

"Thud!" Shi Bading knelt once more…

This time it was extremely heavy—his knees sank three inches into the ground!

The column behind him erupted into chaos.

At the second huqin note, every horse beneath them lost the ability to walk.

They tripped over themselves.

One after another, they crashed down in a thunderous pile.

Shi Bading knelt at the front, eyes bulging with rage, roaring: "Aaaah—"

For a Wu Xiu like him, nothing was more feared than an invisible enemy that struck with trickery.

Shi Bading scanned his surroundings frantically—total darkness; beyond the torchlight, nothing could be seen.

He longed to charge into the darkness with his sword, dragging out that cowardly spirit that struck from the shadows.

But he dared not stand.

To stand would invite another huqin note.

Shi Bading's eyes darted: this trickery seemed aimed at the legs.

He surged upward violently, launching himself into the air with a whoosh, then flipped upside down.

Head down, feet up, one hand pressed firmly on the ground, the other still gripping his sword.

Inverted!

The arm pressing the ground bent and extended like a single-legged hop, propelling him toward the darkness.

The body of a Seventh-Stream Wu Xiu was immensely strong; even using his hands as feet, he could leap two zhang at a time, moving with startling speed.

The huqin note did not sound again.

But immediately after, a sharp "Qiang!" rang out—a naobo cymbal.

Shi Bading's vision went black; his mind exploded with thunder, ringing endlessly with "qiang qiang lang lang."

His arms went limp, and he crashed heavily to the ground, lying still for a long while before recovering.

His blurred vision slowly cleared, but he felt something beneath his nose; when he touched it, his fingers came away covered in blood.

Shi Bading propped himself up into a sitting position, realizing someone was standing beside him.

"Xu, Xu brother..."

Xu Yuan bent his knees, kneeling half to guard Shi Bading's side, and said in a deep voice, "Inspector Shi, rest a while; the rest is left to me."

Xu Yuan's hand had already gripped the Yin-Yang Guillotine.

He closed his left eye.

The boundless darkness all around suddenly dyed itself with a garish yet stiff color in Xu Yuan's eyes.

A funeral hall rose right in the center.

White cloth, white flowers, white banners.

Beneath the funeral hall lay a coffin, yet it was painted a deep vermilion red.

Neatly arranged privately were all sorts of paper items: paper houses, paper people, paper horses, paper carriages, paper oxen, paper sheep, and so on.

Painted in five colors and hues.

Everything was dead matter, motionless.

Yet only around that coffin did several instruments—gongs, drums, suonas, erhus, and cymbals—float in midair, seemingly controlled by something.

Behind Xu Yuan, everyone from the Quhui Bureau had also climbed up.

That erhu seemed to have received some command, adopting a rather affected posture; the bow suddenly drew across, then rapidly and briefly moved back and forth on the strings:

Nng-zhi, zhi, zhi, zhi...

This time, everyone fell to the ground and could not get up for a long while.

Then the erhu leisurely handed over the turn.

The cymbals lifted up and slammed together heavily.

"Clang!"

Not only could everyone not get up, but blood also flowed from their nostrils, just like Shi Bading's.

This was a Funeral Band.

After the cymbals happily clanged "clang-clang, clang-clang, clang-clang" four or five times in succession, they also parted and pressed down.

Just as the cymbals were still ringing, the gongs and drums had already taken over together.

"Dong-dong, guang-guang—, dong-dong, guang-guang—"

Everyone from the Quhui Bureau, including Shi Bading beside Xu Yuan, swelled and puffed up all over their bodies!

Fine blood vessels surfaced within their eyeballs and beneath their skin.

Xu Yuan guessed that when the suona finally sounded, it would send everyone off completely!

Whoosh—

The sword pill shot forth, aiming straight at the great drum.

Clang!

Those cymbals suddenly opened and closed, actually trapping the sword pill directly within them!

Xu Yuan also lost his perception of the sword pill!

At such close range, this was the first time Xu Yuan had lost control of the sword pill!

Xu Yuan was somewhat shocked, but the Funeral Band was even more shocked!

Although the cymbals had trapped the sword pill, they also realized one thing: Can this person see us?

So all the instruments turned toward Xu Yuan at once.

At the same time, all the paper effigies also turned toward Xu Yuan together.

Only that vermilion-red great coffin seemed the most sluggish, turning over last.

Xu Yuan felt extremely solemn; he raised a hand, summoned the carriage, and clamped it over himself.

Bearing the carriage on his back, dragging the blade, he crawled bit by bit toward the Funeral Band.

This was not Xu Yuan pretending; the gongs and drums had been ringing continuously, so his "Hundred Taboos Forbidden" could not fully grant exemption.

This Funeral Band was no trivial matter!

(End of this chapter)