Chapter 36: Midnight Worship at Ghost Mountain

Whoa! Whoa!

In the black night, crows flew wildly.

Dense forests intertwined, candles and lanterns flickered.

Perhaps because so many corpses were buried here, this graveyard was not desolate at all; instead, green trees cast shade, and wild grass grew unusually thick.

Mist rose, obscuring figures beyond a hundred meters.

The dim light, combined with the wet, slippery ground after rain, caused people to stumble frequently.

Among the group, there were no shortage of the timid.

As they walked, they kept glancing around, feeling as if something in the dark mist was watching them, sending chills down their spines.

But remembering Wang Daoxuan’s orders, no one dared speak.

Li Yan naturally walked at the very front.

His left hand gripped his sword hilt, his right held a bamboo pole.

The advantage of his scent ability was now most apparent.

Though the fog was thick and the darkness complete, he could easily distinguish all manner of smells through his nostrils.

He could smell decaying leaves, venomous insects crawling through the undergrowth, venomous snakes coiled on branches dozens of meters away, and even rats burrowing several meters underground—all escaped his nose.

This dark forest was as clear to him as daylight.

But what drew Li Yan’s greater attention was the yin-sha energy here.

He had come and gone several times through Xianyang City, where human energy was strong, bolstered by a thousand-year-old metropolis and numerous bustling temples—perfect for human habitation.

Only a few wells and secret passages retained faint traces of yin energy.

But here, on this graveyard, the yin-sha energy was unmistakable.

Unlike the former cold altar bandits, this was a cold, lifeless, and decaying scent, spreading through every corner, seeping into the earth and clinging to plants along their roots.

Hence, the vegetation here grew abnormally lush, and even on clear days, thick fog lingered.

Swish! Swish!

As the bamboo pole stirred, venomous insects and snakes scattered in panic.

Wang Daoxuan, of course, knew his abilities, focusing on surveying the terrain while holding a lantern and observing the Luo Pan’s movements.

Fengshui geomancy was vast and profound.

One who could read fengshui was not necessarily able to set up a fengshui formation.

Wang Daoxuan had dabbled in many methods, but mostly only understood them superficially or at an introductory level; only fengshui and divination had he studied with great effort.

Not long after, he found the right spot, passed through a dense forest, and gestured for everyone to stop.

This was a strange area.

Near the forest, not a blade of grass grew; around it stood many jagged, towering rocks, each upright like inverted spears, resembling a natural ruin of a temple in the mountains.

Li Yan sniffed, his eyes showing curiosity.

He could smell the yin-sha energy converging here, like an underground current swirling and forming a faint but distinct aura.

As soon as he stepped onto the open ground, he felt the temperature drop several degrees.

Li Yan understood at once—this must be what Wang Daoxuan called the “shi”!

Between heaven and earth, gangqi and shaqi flowed, forming “shi”; further still, they could form a “ju.”

The greatest difference between “shi” and “ju” was that “shi” was like a swirling undercurrent, still dependent on the external environment, while “ju” created a closed environment.

Both were merely terms, with no hierarchy.

The “shi” of famous mountains and great rivers was mighty and grand, like a celestial god raising a sword, standing firm upon the earth—far stronger than any “ju” in some forgotten corner.

All arrays, fengshui, and even treasure sites in the world were tied to them.

This place was clearly an excellent spot for a ritual.

But Wang Daoxuan did not rush; instead, he stepped forward, circled the area with the Luo Pan, then dug away the surface soil with a spade, scooped up a handful of earth, and put it in his mouth.

Pah!

After tasting it, Wang Daoxuan spat it out immediately, then rose and picked up a branch, drawing a circle on the ground, and nodded to the group.

Sha Li Fei immediately stepped forward, leading several others to unload their backpacks.

Inside were wooden planks and sticks, all with mortise-and-tenon joints; in moments they were assembled into a square table, then covered with yellow cloth, talismans, and the five offerings—incense, flowers, lamps, water, and fruit—immediately forming a temporary altar.

Finally, Zhou Ban Zhu stepped forward carefully.

Behind him, he carried a wooden box, covered with red cloth; when carefully opened, inside stood a colorful clay doll deity, dressed in a red bellyband, holding a shadow puppet stick, its smile sweet and innocent.

This was the ancestral deity of the Spring Wind Troupe.

Li Yan could smell only faint traces of incense residue—clearly, something had once been venerated here, but it had long since faded.

This was not uncommon.

Whether deity statues or earth god and city god temples, in a sense, they were also a “shi” or “ju,” though dominated by divine gangqi.

If fate did not align, or if the spirit was weak or incense offerings ceased, the “shi” would dissipate.

Like the cold altar bandits, the fiercer ones would still haunt and harm people.

That morning, Wang Daoxuan had opened the statue, cleaned it thoroughly, perfumed it with pine resin incense, and placed inside symbolic internal organs—pearls and locust wood, among other things.

This was called “zhuang zang.”

It was inferior to temple statues, but if a powerful enough entity was invited and daily incense offerings continued, it could still protect the Spring Wind Troupe.

After completing all this, everyone waited calmly.

Before they knew it, it was the hour of Yin.

Wang Daoxuan gave a signal; the Spring Wind Troupe members immediately, under Zhou Ban Zhu’s lead, burned paper money and ingots, held three sticks of incense, bowed sincerely, and silently recited the invocation to summon the deity.

Meanwhile, Wang Daoxuan held a bag of incense ash and walked around the altar, sprinkling three square rings, one nested within another.

The three rings of incense ash symbolized city walls.

This was the method of planting the phoenix tree to attract the phoenix.

But what would be summoned, Wang Daoxuan himself was uncertain. He followed the old procedure: standing before the altar, he chanted scriptures and spells, stepped the Great Dipper, then took a mouthful of water and spat it out sharply.

Instantly, wind and water stirred—the entire altar generated a “shi.”

But unlike last time, the surrounding yin-sha energy also flowed, swirling around the altar to form a stronger “shi.”

Of course, ordinary people sensed none of this.

Yet as the yin wind suddenly rose and the temperature dropped again, even Zhou Ban Zhu grew uneasy, holding his three incense sticks and bowing repeatedly in prayer.

As for Li Yan, he stood far off, sword in hand.

He had another task—one crucial to the success of this ritual.

Huh~

Suddenly, the surrounding yin wind grew stronger.

A hissing sound arose in the night mist.

The sound was faint yet clear, reaching every ear.

Zhou Ban Zhu’s face lit up; he looked toward Wang Daoxuan.

!.

This was the sign that something had been drawn; now, if they merely cut a slit in the incense ash circle, it would mean opening the city wall and inviting the deity inside.

They had never been this smooth before.

Yet Wang Daoxuan did not hurry; he looked toward Li Yan.

Li Yan took a deep breath.

He could smell a cold, snake-like stench swirling in the distance.

Judging by its intensity, it was only slightly stronger than an ordinary yin spirit.

This thing was utterly insufficient…

Li Yan gave Wang Daoxuan a slight shake of the head.

Wang Daoxuan understood, feigned ignorance, and continued the ritual with the group.

Indeed, the snake stench swirled for a while, then quickly dissipated.

Another half-incense stick passed.

Whoa! Whoa!

The crows’ cries echoed through the black mist.

Again, faint yet unmistakably clear.

Without Li Yan’s judgment, Zhou Ban Zhu’s face darkened, grim and displeased.

Crows were the most inauspicious creatures.

Not only were they birds, symbolizing the troupe’s suffering from constant flight and flight, their cries easily attracted evil spirits, signifying death.

Inviting such a thing was like inviting disaster upon oneself.

With no choice, they continued the ritual.

But in Wang Daoxuan’s eyes, a flicker of worry appeared.

The number of summonings had taboos: only three attempts allowed.

If nothing appeared on the third try, they had to grit their teeth and accept it—otherwise, tonight’s ritual would fail.

Not only would they summon nothing, but descending the mountain would invite demonic attacks.

Thinking of this, Wang Daoxuan felt doubt.

He had chosen a place where yin-sha energy converged—the graveyard known as “Lao Yin Guan”—where powerful entities must surely wander outside.

If a "pattern" forms, it may even trigger conflict among yin entities.

How did all these trivial things come here? Not even a breath of wind.

Logically, this shouldn’t happen…

Bad! Someone is sabotaging this!

Wang Daoxuan instantly understood, disregarding all taboos, rushed to Li Yan’s side, and whispered: “Someone has set a trap to disrupt this—find a way to drive them off, or else whatever demonic thing is summoned, we won’t escape!”

Li Yan nodded and instantly plunged into the darkness.

His sense of smell ability activated; the dark forest posed no obstacle. Crouching low, knife in hand, he moved like a ghost through the trees.

Soon, he caught an unusual odor.

It was the stench of wild dogs, mixed with heavy corpse reek—and there were many of them.

Li Yan immediately turned, leapt up a small mound, crouched low, and hid behind a tree to peer out.

Before him, on the open ground below the mound, dozens of massive wild dogs stood densely packed, their eyes glowing crimson in the dark, scattered like stars—deeply chilling.

Behind the pack of dogs stood several beggars.

Dressed in tattered rags, one hand held a dog-beating stick, the other tossed black, foul-smelling objects from a torn cloth sack.

They carried the stench of corpses, yet emitted an oddly pungent fragrance.

The wild dogs scrambled for the offerings, but remained silent.

It’s human flesh!

Li Yan’s eyes narrowed slightly, instantly recognizing what it was.

Though he didn’t know why these western-traveling evil beggars were disrupting things, nor what secret method they used, he understood they must have another trick up their sleeves.

Must stop them immediately!

Thinking this, Li Yan glanced around, picked up a stone, swung his arm fully, and hurled it with the technique of a flying locust stone.

Whoosh!

The moment the sound pierced the air, one beggar’s head split open, blood gushing—he screamed and collapsed.

This startled the wild dogs.

Woof! Woof! Woof!

Sensing the blood, the pack erupted—saliva dripping from their jaws, frenzied, all lunging at the fallen beggar…

(End of Chapter)