Chapter 113: Burial and Aftermath

Wang Daoxuan chose the perfect moment to cast his spell.

“Mr. Lu” dared abandon his possession and appear in person to act—naturally, he had his reasons.

In martial skill, he was no top-tier expert, but years of rigorous training had brought him to the Hidden Force realm.

In Daoist cultivation, he had long since reached the Second Story.

As he himself said, in his lineage, he was far more qualified than Wu Laosi to control the Soul Ledger.

The technique he used earlier was called the Nine You Demon Soldiers Art.

Its name was eerie, and its power was formidable.

This art could control wandering souls to possess bodies, turning them into ghost soldiers—somewhat like puppetry, but using living human flesh as vessels.

The human body, if likened to a machine, is a restricted one, for full activation often causes severe damage.

Hence, when life hangs by a thread, some unleash tremendous latent power—but afterward, they often fall gravely ill, or even die.

Those afflicted by this art, once possessed by yin spirits, feel no fear, gain astonishing strength, and remain unfazed even by grievous wounds.

This technique originated in the late Tang, an era when Dao waned and demons flourished, and the world plunged into chaos; evil Daoists served in armies, forming specialized “Demon Soldier Death Camps” to launch desperate last stands when battle turned dire.

Though “Mr. Lu” knew only the surface, twenty-odd fearless demon soldiers could inflict heavy damage on all present.

At that point, only Li Yan might survive.

Wang Daoxuan’s move, however, completely disrupted his plan.

“Ahh—!”

“Mr. Lu” rolled on the ground, clutching his head and screaming in agony.

Wang Daoxuan’s Seven Arrow Secret Spell was only the first incantation—it did not kill him, but acted like a sharp awl, drilling and twisting violently inside his skull, driving him to the brink of death.

Meanwhile, the charging constables instantly froze.

Li Yan would not miss this opening—he swung his crossblade and leapt forward, aiming to slay the sorcerer.

But at the critical moment, “Mr. Lu” gritted his teeth, pulled a bamboo tube from his waist, and yanked it sharply toward Li Yan.

Danger!

A sense of imminent death surged through Li Yan—he bit his lip, rolled sideways, unleashed Hidden Force, and kicked hard against a motionless constable.

Whoosh!

Using that force, he flew sideways through the air.

From “Mr. Lu”’s bamboo tube, a burst of phosphorescent fire erupted—red, white, and thick with oily sludge.

Whoosh~

Li Yan barely dodged, but the constables were drenched head to toe—and instantly burst into flames, becoming blazing human torches.

“Ahh—!”

Piercing cries of agony rose.

The phosphorescent fire burned away the possessing yin spirits; the ignited constables writhed in unbearable pain, stumbling and clawing wildly.

Those not yet burning met worse fates—pounced upon by their flaming comrades, their own bodies caught fire.

“Go to hell, you bastards!”

Sha Lifei and the bearers were startled; seeing flaming figures charging, they swung their long poles to shove them away.

What a ruthless weapon!

Li Yan’s heart pounded as he watched.

Wang Daoxuan had told him many tales of Daoist history—Fangxian sects, later alchemists who never mastered longevity, yet concocted countless bizarre devices.

Some entered folk use—like tofu, gunpowder—others were deadly, becoming secret protective arts.

For example, the Thunderfire Pills of the Tai Xuan Orthodox Sect.

The sorcerer’s device was likely one of these—Li Yan smelled white phosphorus, saltpeter, and oil, plus other unidentifiable scents, complex and foul.

Now, the air reeked of charred meat and acrid smoke, making him nauseous.

Worse, the sorcerer had recovered and pulled another bamboo tube from his waist…

At that moment, Wang Daoxuan inside the ancestral hall stepped the Nine Steps, formed seals, and chanted—then drove his blood-stained chopsticks deep!

“Roar!”

The sorcerer screamed again, collapsed, and his untriggered bamboo tube rolled away.

Li Yan said nothing—he unleashed Hidden Force in his legs, leapt forward, and brought down his Guanshan blade with all his might.

Plop!

His strike was heavy and decisive—the sorcerer’s head severed cleanly.

Still wary, Li Yan focused his spirit; the Three Talismans Demon-Suppressing Coin tassel trembled left and right, radiating icy killing intent, scattering the corpse’s lingering aura.

Meanwhile, inside the ancestral hall.

Whoosh!

The straw effigy on the altar burst into flame.

Wang Daoxuan exhaled, collapsed to the ground, and the suffocating chill enveloping him swiftly faded.

This phenomenon signaled the spell’s end.

Either the opponent broke the spell, he suffered fatal backlash, or the target was dead.

In short, this incantation meant life or death.

Judging by the outcome, his luck held…

…………

Flames roared, filling the air with acrid, burnt stench.

“Tell me—how many of you came?”

“L-Lord, forty-seven men…”

Plop!

The blade pierced the heart; the fallen constable’s pupils dilated and faded.

Li Yan withdrew his blade, face expressionless.

Far off, the bearers dragged corpses and severed limbs, dumping them all into a dilapidated wooden building near the ancestral hall.

They had set the entire structure ablaze, and even tore wood from nearby homes to feed the fire.

“Counted—forty-six bodies!”

Sha Lifei ran over, face tense.

Though these men deserved death, and tonight was kill or be killed, they still wore official uniforms—corpses must be destroyed, no traces left.

“No worry—the last one’s arrived.”

Li Yan smiled faintly, turning toward the right.

There, Lu San stepped slowly from the darkness—pale-faced, a massive gash across his shoulder, holding a severed head.

It was Zhao Kui, the Fengyang County constable captain.

“Good brother, well done!”

Sha Lifei praised him, rushing forward: “Just the head won’t do—where’s the body?”

“Two li away, by the old grove, beside the road.”

“Got it!”

Sha Lifei mounted his horse without delay and rode off to retrieve the corpse.

At that moment, Yue Bala and the others approached slowly, glancing at each other, shoving and hesitating.

Li Yan knew what they were thinking—he said calmly: “Rest easy, no one in Fengyang has seen us. Return by a different route, eat, drink, act as if nothing happened—and keep your mouths shut.”

“We trust you, Li Shaoxia,” Yue Bala sighed. “If we breathe a word, may thunder strike us dead!”

To be honest, they weren’t afraid of tonight’s events.

The Jianghu is full of dangers—this kind of thing happens often.

They feared Li Yan might, in a fit of bloodlust, kill them all.

At Niubeiliang and Wujiagou, though self-defense, he’d killed at least fifty men.

A living Yama…

Li Yan saw their expressions, sighed inwardly, but paid no mind—he looked to the sky and said gravely: “Time’s come…”

“Send off the dead!”

…………

Ding! Dongdong!

!.

Wang Daoxuan rang the bell; Li Yan beat the drum.

“Those who repent their karmic sins—killing, stealing, lust, greed, indulgence—repentant one vows henceforth: no killing, no stealing, no greed, no indulgence; no anger, no delusion, no attachment…”

Wang Daoxuan chanted sutras; Sha Lifei carried the soul-summoning banner, followed by Lu San in mourning robes, circling a brazier.

The brazier symbolized the hellfire of karmic retribution.

Beside it, two bricks held a tile, symbolizing the gate of the netherworld.

Wu Laosi was a living yin official who failed his duty and died; Wang Daoxuan did not know if he was suffering in the nether court, so before the funeral, he performed a simple rite to absolve his sins.

Lu San took the role of the mourning son.

Then Wang Daoxuan chanted the Hell-Breaking Spell, stepped the Nine Steps, formed seals, and drove his peachwood talisman sword deep into the ground.

Splash!

Tiles shattered, symbolizing the opening of the gates of hell.

Finally, Wang Daoxuan swung his peachwood sword and cried out: “One stroke opens heaven’s gate; the Eight Great Vajras descend from heaven; lift up the treasure!”

“Raise the spirit!”

At the command, the bearers immediately lifted the coffin.

Wang Daoxuan shook the soul-guiding bell in his left hand and carried the soul-guiding incense in his right, walking at the very front.

To prevent accidents, they did not scatter money for passage; with Li Yan, this fearsome deity, standing guard, no wandering spirits would dare block their way.

Sha Lifei carried the soul-guiding banner.

Lu San held the spirit tablet of Wu Laosi.

The bearers muttered their chants as they carried the coffin up the mountain.

As for the cart driver Old Meng, he remained near the Wu Family Gully ancestral hall, carefully searching until he confirmed no clues remained, then drove off with his cart and led away several horses to wait elsewhere.

The sky had not yet brightened; Wu Family Gully fell silent once more.

Only the flames of the wooden building still burned, piled with charred corpses…

…………

“Two strokes open earth’s gate; Earth Lord and Earth Mother, emerge! Receive the treasure! Azure Dragon on the left, White Tiger on the right, Vermilion Bird ahead, Black Tortoise behind… Swiftly, as the law commands!”

As the earth-binding incantation ended, all lowered the coffin slowly.

Wang Daoxuan held a cinnabar brush and waved it through the air, chanting: “Rapid promotion, success in imperial examinations; this brush is no ordinary tool—touch the sky and it clears, touch the earth and it awakens spirit. The cinnabar brush descends to the netherworld; Wu Laosi’s three souls and seven spirits return to their divine master…”

Then he chanted again and scattered five-colored grains toward all four directions within the cliff tomb, while beside him, Lu San had already gathered and buried the villagers’ bones.

“Seal the earth!”

After the sequence of rituals ended, upon Wang Daoxuan’s order, the bearers immediately used pre-prepared soil, stones, and sand to block the entrance of the cliff tomb.

Then they climbed back up the cliff top along the ropes and erased all traces of the ropes and stakes.

Watching the pale horizon, everyone exhaled in relief.

A thousand-li coffin escort, through wind and rain—now it was truly over.

Li Yan said gravely: “Gentlemen, descend the mountain from the other side. Sha Lifei will lead you to Shangluo, where you can find fellow travelers to help you cover your tracks.”

“Remember, no matter what happens henceforth, you have only ever been to Shangluo City—you never knew what occurred in Fengyang County.”

“Li Shaoxia has thought of everything.”

“Rest assured, we understand.”

Yue Bala and the others nodded quickly, their hearts easing slightly.

Li Yan had completely severed them from this affair; even if nothing else, this alone was enough to win their full trust.

Seeing them agree, Li Yan nodded again and turned to Sha Lifei: “Sha Laoshu, stay in Shangluo after you’re done. When the Daoist and I return from Tianzhu Mountain, we’ll join you there.”

“Watch your step.”

Sha Lifei’s expression turned grave as he nodded.

He had overheard the sorcerer’s accidental revelation last night—that the Cold Altar wandering master had no connection to this lineage.

Moreover, someone from Wu Laosi’s lineage still lived.

This journey might yet bring another magical duel.

“Don’t worry.”

Li Yan nodded, then turned his head toward Lu San beside him: “Lu Brother, one must look forward. We’ve done this deed—the court will surely pursue us. Staying here puts you in danger. Why not come with us?”

Lu San fell silent for a moment. “No.”

Then he turned and walked away without another word.

Watching his disappearing figure, Sha Lifei grumbled: “Damn it, this kid’s as stubborn as a mule—he doesn’t know good advice when he hears it.”

“Forget it.”

Li Yan turned and gazed toward the distance. “Let’s go!”

Saying this, the group descended the mountain, met up with Old Meng the cart driver, traveled several dozen li, then split at the fork and gradually faded from view…

…………

Wu Family Gully, outside the ancestral hall.

Lu San looked at the still-smoldering charred ruins of the wooden building in the distance, then around him, and sighed softly: “Where could one possibly hide…?”

Squeak!

Several rats scurried from all directions.

Lu San tilted his head to listen. “Someone’s coming? Hmm… I see.”

With a whistle, the rats immediately scrambled up his pant legs and into the leather pouch at his waist.

Rrrrip!

He suddenly tore off his white mourning robe, dipped it in the still-wet blood from his shoulder wound, and wrote in bold, swirling strokes on the outer wall of the Wu Family Gully ancestral hall:

The killer is Lu San of Manchuan Pass!

(End of Chapter)