Chapter 398: There Is Chaos in Bashu, the Dragon Maiden Escapes

The night wind howled, scattering the smell of smoke.

The corpses on the slope had grown cold, limbs and debris mixed with soil, the stench of blood still thick.

"Hey, hey, slow down!"

Sha Sha Li Fei held his torch, constantly warning.

Beside him, Wu Ba was hauling the cannon up the slope.

This cannon was the very one from the Longxiang Army, rolled down the slope, then retrieved by Sha Sha Li Fei under cover of night.

The cannon's design was peculiar: its barrel thick and short, cast in ancient bronze, with a carved tiger's maw at the muzzle and two tiger-paw supports ahead.

Crafted with metallic spiritual materials, it was extremely heavy, yet Wu Ba's brute strength carried it by the tiger-paw supports without effort.

Li Yan was also clearing the battlefield.

This battle yielded extremely rich spoils.

The Longxiang Army had been slaughtered, abandoning armor and weapons; many firearms had fallen—besides ordinary firelocks, there were two Fire God Guns, several new-style gunpowder packs, and even two unmoved Ming fire muskets.

In comparison, the trivial trinkets on the sorcerers seemed utterly insignificant.

Seeing Wu Ba haul the cannon up, Li Yan frowned, "Aren't there wheels? Why remove them?"

"That thing's useless!"

Sha Sha Li Fei shook his head. "This is called the 'Tiger Squat Cannon.' The front paws are fixed; when set down, it resembles a crouching tiger—ideal for mountain and forest combat."

"Originally, its power was modest and range short, but these Longxiang soldiers used spiritual materials and added new gunpowder—its power surged instantly."

"It never had wheels to begin with. The soldiers couldn't carry it, so they clumsily added them. With Wu Ba here, it's no problem!"

Li Yan's interest sparked. "How much ammunition?"

Sha Sha Li Fei waved his hand. "Only found five gunpowder packs, and few projectiles. I'll find a way to make more. With this thing guarding the mountain, who dares come up?"

His face alight with excitement, he had Wu Ba carry the "Tiger Squat Cannon" up the mountain, then hurried off to search for new gunpowder packs.

With the two handling it, Li Yan grew lazy and stopped searching. He went to the battlefield's edge, gathered dirt, lit incense, then took out his Gou Die, clasped it in hand, and chanted: "Heaven guides souls, sternly subdues North Feng; the Divine Lord receives mandate, sweeping away all ill fortune; Eight Warnings spew poison, fierce steeds spread wide…"

Battlefields have always bred vengeful spirits; if unattended, they often breed disaster. Tang-era poet Li Hua recorded: "This ancient battlefield, often burying three armies. Ghosts weep often; on overcast days, their cries are heard."

Even though these were enemies, Li Yan, as a member of the Da Xuan Gate, could not ignore them—he must perform rites to liberate the dead.

Usually, Wang Wang Daoxuan handled such matters, but he was occupied guarding the ritual altar, and climbing back and forth took too much time, so Li Yan took charge himself.

He used the "Northern Emperor's Removal of Calamity Art," which could both dispel curses and, via the Gou Die, liberate souls.

Huh~

As the incantation unfolded, cold winds surged around him.

Li Yan could smell icy breaths rising from the corpses, swirling rapidly through the air.

Simultaneously, agonized wails reached his ears:

"I don't want to die, I don't want to die!"

"Where is this? So cold…"

"Mother, I miss you…"

Death ends all things, leaving only lingering attachments.

At the moment of death, one's strongest obsession often lingers—some scattered by the night wind, vanishing into heaven and earth; others coalesce into yin malice, becoming vengeful ghosts.

Since awakening his Ear Spirit Power, he could hear these cries.

Then, Li Yan felt a chilling force rise from the ground; the souls grew silent, sinking into the earth, disappearing.

The evening breeze blew, and the stench of blood seemed to fade.

Li Yan fell silent for a moment, then shook his head slightly and returned to the mountaintop.

The wind atop the mountain was fiercer; Sha Sha Li Fei had already lit a bonfire beneath a boulder at the cave entrance, the flames flickering in the wind.

The old man had hung a cauldron and was boiling meat broth, beside it roasted several buns, releasing a savory aroma.

"This thing's hard to carry… Wu Ba, you lift it with one hand—why not modify it into a hand-cannon?"

Sha Sha Li Fei patted the Tiger Squat Cannon, lost in thought.

As for Wu Ba nearby, he paid no attention whatsoever—he squatted by the fire, eyes fixed on the broth, drool dripping onto his chest.

Seeing Li Yan return, Sha Sha Li Fei looked up eagerly. "Little Yan, I've just had a brilliant idea—"

"Shh!"

Before he finished, Li Yan raised a finger to his lips, then nodded toward the side.

There lay another man—the captured Mount Emei disciple.

Sha Sha Li Fei spat. "Hey, over there—if you're awake, stop pretending to be dead. And stop those sneaky hand movements."

The man on the ground stiffened, then slowly opened his eyes, staring at the fire, silent.

Li Yan glanced at him once, then didn't press. He stirred the broth with an iron spoon; seeing the meat was tender, he nodded to Wu Ba.

Wu Ba immediately rose, clumsily lifting his large basin. Li Yan filled it, and Wu Ba devoured the meat and warm buns with relish.

Li Yan smiled wryly, handed the spoon to Sha Sha Li Fei, then stepped forward, drew a Soul-Cutting Flying Knife, and slashed down sharply.

The man, bracing for death, felt a sudden lightness—his leather bindings had been cut.

Seeing his puzzled expression, Li Yan shook his head. "Come eat. Even if you're going to die, don't become a hungry ghost on the path to the netherworld."

The man clenched his teeth, rose, walked to the fire, took the broth and buns from Sha Sha Li Fei, and ate greedily, ignoring Wu Ba's disgruntled glare.

For a time, all fell silent, save for the sounds of eating and drinking.

When he finished, Li Yan spoke: "I'm puzzled. You're a proper Mount Emei disciple, trained in the Sword Art—why did you end up with the Longxiang Army?"

The man lowered his head, silent.

Li Yan's expression remained calm. He gazed into the dark wilderness. "Some things are better spoken. If you harbor bitterness, no one will know when you die."

The man clenched his fists tightly, yet still said nothing.

Just as Sha Sha Li Fei grew impatient, the man finally spoke: "I'm Wu Wu Faluo, from the 'Hui Men,' cultivated on 'Qingniu.'"

Li Yan's eyes flickered with sharp light. "Fengdou County's Qingniu Temple?"

The three sacred sites of Shenzhou's martial world: Shaolin, Mount Wudang, and Mount Emei.

These places weren't just martial sanctuaries—they gathered elite Da Xuan Gate masters: Shaolin's Chan sect, Mount Wudang's Zhenwu Palace, belonging to Buddhist and Daoist traditions respectively.

Mount Emei was unique: both Buddhist and Daoist, dominant in the southwest, powerful enough to be described as "one tree blooms with five flowers, five flowers and eight leaves support."

The "one tree" refers to Mount Emei.

Not just Mount Emei Mountain, but all of Bashu.

The "five flowers" are five regions.

Qingniu Temple, Tiefo Temple, Huangling Sect, Dianyi Sect, Qingcheng Sect—occupying the east, west, south, north, and center of Sichuan.

The "eight leaves" are eight schools: Monk, Master Yue, Du, Zhao, Hong, Hui, Zi, Hua.

Together, the five flowers and eight leaves forged Mount Emei's prestige.

Among them, Dao and Buddhist factions weren't always harmonious. For instance, Qingcheng Sect's reputation in the Da Xuan Gate rivals Mount Emei's—people often say "Qingcheng and Mount Emei" together.

Then there's Monk Fist, with countless disciples; countless martial artists in Bashu practice Monk Fist.

Wu Wu Faluo's "Hui Men" specializes in divine fist arts, using five principles: swallow, exhale, seal, transform, adhere.

Qingniu Temple was even more extraordinary.

Built in Qin times, ancient beyond measure, rumored to be deeply connected to Laozi—his Sword Art likely came from Qingniu Temple…

Sha Sha Li Fei, hearing this, was equally stunned. "Holy shit, you've got a brilliant future—why rebel? Did your brain get crushed by a door?"

"Brilliant future?"

The middle-aged man Wu Wu Faluo clenched his fist fiercely, eyes filled with hatred. "What's a proper Da Xuan Gate sect? Can't tell black from white. I'm already a wanted man of the court—what choice do I have?" Li Yan frowned. "What happened?"

Wu Wu Faluo stared at the fire, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. "To be honest, many things still confuse me…"

"Every year on the fifteenth of the second month, Outside Chengdu's Daoist Qingyang Palace holds the 'Hua Chao Festival,' also the birthday of our ancestor Laozi—all Daoist sects of Bashu gather to pay homage."

I went with my master. We stayed overnight at Daoist Qingyang Palace. At midnight, the scripture hall suddenly caught fire. In the chaos, we learned someone had set fire to steal Daoist Qingyang's treasures."

After putting out the fire, I left with my master. We camped in a ruined temple. When I woke, my master was gone. Then Daoist Qingyang disciples came chasing us, accusing my master and me of theft."

Unable to explain, I fled back to Qingniu Temple to report to the elders—but after I spoke, they imprisoned me instead, refusing to listen…"

His eyes filled with fear. "I have a feeling… those elders… they've become different people!"

Li Yan narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Wu Wu Faluo trembled, gritted his teeth. "Their bodies haven't changed. Their voices haven't changed. But it's as if something possessed them!"

"Impossible."

!.

Sha Sha Li Fei looked utterly incredulous. "Qingniu Temple? That's the ancestral master's domain! How could a demon dare interfere? You're just imagining things!"

"If this were true, why didn't you report it to the Enforcement Hall?"

Wu Wu Faluo growled. "I did report it. No one believed me. Instead, the court put a bounty on me. I went to Mount Emei—but Mount Emei had problems too."

Li Yan frowned. "What problems did Mount Emei have?"

Wu Wu Faluo sneered. "What else? Internal strife—only concerned with power struggles. Who cares about a nobody like me?"

"Since leaving Mount Emei, I've been hunted. I hid my identity, fled to Ezhou, and took refuge with the Longxiang Army…"

Li Yan mused. "What about Qingcheng?"

"Qingcheng has its own mess."

Wu Wu Faluo sighed. "Originally, Sword Immortal Cheng Cheng Jianxin held sway there, but he's been in seclusion for years, never showing his face. Some even say he's dead."

"Because of that, some in Mount Emei began scheming for power. Near Dujiangyan at the foot of Qingcheng Mountain, high-level Daoists and demons are fighting over something—Qingcheng has no time to intervene."

As he spoke, his eyes dimmed.

Li Yan and Sha Sha Li Fei exchanged a glance, both faces grim.

They were headed to Sichuan, but hadn't expected the Xuanmen there to be so chaotic—they'd have to proceed with caution.

Of course, they had no intention of rushing to offer help.

This matter was full of suspicious points; there were likely many hidden truths. They already had enough on their plate—why take on more trouble?

"Go."

Li Yan suddenly spoke, waving his hand. "I spare your life this time. Stay away from those people—they won't last long. Next time we meet, I won't hold back."

Saying this, he pulled out the copper needles from the man's acupoints.

Wu Wu Faluo fell silent for a moment, then rose, bowed, picked up his longsword, and walked straight down the mountain, vanishing quickly.

"What kind of person is this? Can't even say thank you."

Sha Sha Li Fei spat in disgust. "Little Brother Li, I think this kid didn't tell the truth."

"Ignore him."

Li Yan shook his head slightly, then suddenly felt something stir—he turned toward the southeast, his gaze turning grave. "Forget him. Be careful. I sense heavy malevolent energy rising there—the Shenkui tribe must be stirring again…"

Below the mountain, Wu Wu Faluo walked with his sword, also glancing toward the southeast, frowning.

He turned his eyes toward Sichuan, clenched his teeth, and a flash of resolve passed through them—he swiftly headed southwest…

Meanwhile, in the dense forest to the southeast, Guo Xiu fled in terror, his back filled with dark shadows from the woods, soldiers' screams echoing continuously.

He hadn't expected that, after gathering his last hundred or so men, he'd again stumble upon the Shenkui tribe out hunting.

Now, his final reserves were utterly destroyed.

Guo Xiu felt only confusion and sorrow, like a stray dog, racing toward the Tian Sheng Church camp.

He didn't want to face those people—but the world was vast, and there was nowhere left to go.

Suddenly, a gust of wind howled behind him.

Before Guo Xiu could react, a massive white-furred hand seized his head, then his neck twisted in pain—he was bitten clean off.

In a daze, Guo Xiu remembered his father's words:

"Father, look at my poem—I'm more than qualified to be a xiucai…"

"Slap! What nonsense xiucai! Listen well: we are descendants of the Daxing imperial family. This empire will one day be reclaimed!"

…………

"Travel safely."

"Thank you, Master Lu. Please tell Li Li Shaoxia I'll send word as soon as possible—please, he must be careful…"

Outside Longtan Lake Village, Battalion Commander Gong Qun waved and bowed, then turned and hurried away, vanishing into the night.

Here, he was on familiar ground—he could easily bypass the battlefield and return to the Baokang County camp.

Seeing him leave, Lu San turned toward Longtan Village.

Far off, he saw a patch of firelight by the lake.

As Lu San approached, he saw the altar table already set by Longtan Lake, with three sacrificial animals and five livestock, all five offerings complete. The entire village had gathered, burning incense and praying.

The Daoist Yun Feng Lingzi, still pale-faced, stood before the altar. After respectfully lighting three incense sticks, he turned to Lu San and said: "Master Lu, after the Dragon Sacrifice, this matter will be resolved."

"I will leave Longtan Village shortly. If you ever reach Outside Chengdu, remember to visit Daoist Qingyang Palace—I'll treat you with all due respect."

Lu San frowned, grunting: "Can you really do it?"

Yun Feng Lingzi's wounds hadn't healed; he clearly looked weak, yet he smiled: "It's fine. The Dragon Sacrifice depends on sincerity. If the Dragon Girl seeks revenge, even if I were unharmed, I couldn't escape this fate."

Saying this, he glanced at the sky. "Midnight has come—begin!"

The dragon-staking stakes below had been bound with chains dragged ashore.

At his command, Zhou Li Zheng immediately led the villagers—young and old, men and women—to pull the chains together, like a tug-of-war, dragging backward.

At the same time, Yun Feng Lingzi activated the altar, holding his ceremonial tablet with both hands, reciting the Dragon King's Sacred Text:

"With sincere devotion, I submit: The sea is my palace, jade isles receive blessings. Descendant of the Heavenly River, sovereign of the boundless deep, entrusted with the Three Heavens, commanded to rule all spirits…"

The scripture echoed, the chains trembled.

With the combined strength of Longtan Village's people, one by one, the dragon-staking stakes were pulled up from the lakebed.

Sweat beaded on Yun Feng Lingzi's forehead, yet he continued reciting the Dragon King's Sacred Text, not daring to slacken for a moment.

Boom!

As the last stake was pulled free, the lake's surface churned with mud, howling winds surged, mist rose and swirled wildly—as if some colossal creature thrashed beneath.

Splash!

Stones tumbled from the surrounding cliffs.

Lu San's ears twitched, his body tensed.

He thought he heard a dragon's roar.

As the villagers of Longtan Lake stood paralyzed with fear, the lake's surface finally calmed, gentle ripples spreading—as if everything before had been a dream.

"The Dragon Girl is merciful!"

Yun Feng Lingzi wiped the cold sweat from his brow, face filled with relief.

The villagers didn't know the truth; removing the stakes would surely earn the Dragon Girl's forgiveness—but he couldn't say so.

Fortunately, the Dragon Girl had not unleashed a curse.

Meanwhile, atop Inside Shennongjia Mountain, Li Yan curled beside the fire, his eyelids trembling violently, slipping once more into a dream…

(End of Chapter)