Chapter 441: Qingniu Temple Descends the Mountain

The summons tablet was made of black wood with jade accents, elevating its status considerably and giving it an air of the extraordinary.

More importantly, its function.

Though Meng Changgui had left, a section of the summons tablet remained cold, indicating that someone from the "Yellow Springs" still lurked nearby.

Li Yan formed the Yang seal with his fingers and took a deep breath.

Instantly, every scent within a three-hundred-meter radius flooded his nostrils—nothing could escape him.

Li Yan peered through a crack in the window.

Indeed, on a stilted house built against the hillside to the side, two men—a fisherman and a woodcutter—were playing chess by the window, occasionally glancing over this way.

It seemed that although Meng Changgui spoke politely, he did not fully trust him.

He claimed the initiation ceremony would take place during the Lunar New Year gathering, but wasn't that merely an excuse to keep observing him?

Li Yan didn't mind.

If joining were easy, he'd suspect something was wrong.

He turned back to examine the summons tablet.

With the jade pendant attached, its greatest feature was enhanced sensitivity.

In simple terms, it was like an illegal homemade satellite dish, multiplying the tablet's capabilities manyfold.

Previously, it could only sense other summons tablets.

Now, it could detect them at greater distances and even show their locations.

All other abilities were similarly greatly enhanced.

Before, one had to be near a yin offender to detect them.

Now, within a kilometer, it could point out direction.

Additionally, according to Yin Changsheng's words, whether accepting tasks from the Yin Court or guiding spirits into the Underworld, one could perceive far more.

This was his greatest secret!

Li Yan did not know who had forged the jade pendant.

He also did not know what opportunity Yin Changsheng had gained from it.

But clearly, after succeeding in ascending to godhood, this pioneer had left behind the opportunity, enduring for a thousand years until now, when he had finally unlocked it…

Knock knock knock!

At that moment, a knock came at the door.

"Young Master Li, it's time to eat!"

Sha Lifei called out from outside.

After stepping out, Li Yan looked down from the second floor.

The first-floor hall had been cleaned—broken tables and chairs replaced, rearranged into two long rows.

Other guests, clearly afraid of trouble, had all left, but the shopkeeper didn't care at all; guests like Li Yan and his group were rare indeed.

Sha Lifei kept urging, and everyone gradually filed out, filling the entire hall.

"Esteemed guests."

The shopkeeper smiled broadly and said: "Brother Sha asked me to prepare the finest local banquet—five cold dishes and eight hot bowls. I've hired the best chef from nearby, guaranteed to satisfy your palates."

"What are you standing around for? Serve the food!"

At his command, two waiters dashed back and forth between the hall and kitchen, bringing dishes and pouring wine.

Eight hot bowls, ten hot bowls—these were the hallmark of folk banquets, common everywhere north and south, east and west, nothing unusual.

The key lay in the contents.

Each region's cuisine, customs, and local produce varied.

In Fengdu, they served five cold dishes first, then the eight hot bowls.

Here, the eight hot bowls were divided into four large and four small: Ten-View Mixed Dish, Vinegar Noodles or Glutinous Rice Chicken, Garlic-Flavored Pig's Trotters, Red Bean Paste, Braised Tofu Skin, White Bean Soup, Braised Pork Belly, and Three-Flavor Soup.

As the shopkeeper claimed, the chef he hired was truly skilled—the broths and solids balanced well, flavors of salt, sweet, sour, and spicy perfectly tuned, relatively light.

But a banquet without wine was dull.

In Bashu, good liquor was plentiful.

There was "Yaozi Xuequ," later known as Wuliangye, Luzhou Laojiao, and Jian Nan Shaochun.

Even Fengdu had several fine local brews.

But with the situation unclear, they feared drinking might cause trouble, so they substituted tea for wine, clinking cups and exchanging toasts—still lively…

……

"Damn it, still got the appetite to eat!"

From a warehouse's second floor in the distance, someone muttered curses.

The speakers were two men.

One was short and stocky, muscles knotted like ropes, hands as wide as winnowing baskets, wrists far thicker than normal—clearly a master of fist and palm arts.

The other wore black clothing with a white headwrap, ordinary-looking, indistinguishable from common Sichuan villagers.

But the row of throwing knives on his belt and the nail-claw on the table revealed him as a spy skilled in scaling walls and rooftops.

Both were skilled salt gang members, sent to monitor.

Watching Li Yan and the others feast on meat and fish while they gnawed dry rations and dared not light a fire, their resentment naturally grew.

"By the way…"

The thin spy suddenly spoke, frowning: "Chen Shi and the others died strangely—several notorious tough guys from Sichuan, just gone without a trace?"

"What the hell caused this?"

"Who the hell knows!"

The stocky man cursed, "Damn it, we're not sorcerers, yet we're sent to deal with these ghostly nonsense—what's Lu Jiu thinking?"

"Pfft!"

The thin man sneered: "It's all for the Shu Prince's sake—this guy's obsessed with climbing up, and already lost plenty of brothers, doesn't care about our lives!"

"Learn to be smarter—those guys are dangerous, we just watch, leave the rest to Lu Jiu…"

"Who?!"

Before he finished, he spun around.

A rat squeaked as it scurried across the beam.

"It's just a rat, what are you scared of…"

The two muttered on, continuing their conversation.

The rat crossed the beam, squeaked twice at another rat, passed the message along through several turns until it reached Wangxiang Tower Inn.

"Squeak squeak…"

Shu Da, who was eating heartily, immediately looked up and squeaked.

Lu San listened, then whispered to Li Yan.

"Don't move against them yet."

Li Yan sipped tea, his eyes glinting coldly: "The salt gang won't let this go—this can't be settled peacefully. Wait until we learn what they're planning, then strike hard."

……

Meanwhile, in the magistrate's rear chamber.

"Magistrate Liu, it's been a long time."

Fengdu County Magistrate Guo Zhengshan beamed, personally pouring tea.

His target of flattery was the Battalion Commander Liu Gan of the Regional Military Commissioner's Office.

Watching Liu Gan silently lower his head and sip tea, Magistrate Guo Zhengshan grew even more uneasy and whispered, "Magistrate Liu, be frank with me—is this the work of the salt gang, or the Prince's…"

"Magistrate Guo, watch your words!"

Liu Gan cast a cool glance: "Whatever happens in Sichuan, remember—it has nothing to do with the Prince. Say the wrong thing, and your head will roll."

"Yes yes…"

Magistrate Guo Zhengshan's forehead instantly broke into cold sweat.

Liu Gan, satisfied he'd made his point, lowered his voice: "Whatever the salt gang does, it's none of our business. Follow the rules."

"Remember, I came here by accident to investigate a case. You're doing your duty. If any sorcerer flees in fear of punishment, just report it."

"These Jianghu riffraff—no matter how many die, it's none of our concern. Even if Emei investigates, they won't trace it back to us."

"Thank you for your guidance, my lord."

Magistrate Guo Zhengshan finally exhaled.

Fengdu County was small, not a port like Wanzhou, but it housed Qingniu Temple and Lunhui Temple—Buddhist and Daoist forces.

These were orthodox Daoist sorcerers with wide connections—from the capital to Chengdu, who knew which official they might know? One word could strip his hat.

Magistrate Guo Zhengshan dared not offend anyone.

If something major happened, he was truly afraid.

"Report!" At that moment, the head yamen runner Meng Changgui hurried in, bowing respectfully: "Your Honor, the Daoists from Qingniu Temple have arrived."

"Quickly, invite them in!"

Magistrate Guo Zhengshan said, then immediately rose: "No, I'll go greet them myself…"

But as he spoke, he glanced uneasily at Liu Gan.

"Magistrate Guo can go alone."

Liu Gan waved dismissively: "Remember—do your duty. Don't say what you shouldn't. Don't ask what you shouldn't."

"Yes, yes."

County Magistrate Guo Zhengshan hurriedly walked out.

Meng Changgui remained expressionless and glanced at Liu Gan.

Outside the county yamen, County Magistrate Guo Zhengshan looked up and around.

!

It was just past noon, yet the sky remained overcast, drizzling fine rain, when a dozen white-robed Daoists appeared from the street corner.

They ranged from old to young; some held flywhisks, others carried treasure swords, and some bore chests, all holding umbrellas.

The group moved with dragon-like strides and tiger-like vigor, radiating an unmistakable aura.

At their head was an old Daoist, tall and robust, with ruddy skin and an ethereal, immortal bearing—yet his snow-white sword-like eyebrows lent him an air of deadly menace.

Meng Changgui suppressed all his aura, stood low beside them, blending into the yamen runners, doing his best to avoid notice.

County Magistrate Guo Zhengshan, however, beamed and stepped forward, "Master Chongxu, it has been so long! Thank you for coming."

The old Daoist was named Chongxu Zi, the acting abbot of Qingniu Guan; apart from the sect master in seclusion, he was the highest-cultivated among them.

Seeing him come in person, County Magistrate Guo Zhengshan grew even more uneasy.

"Wuliang Shoufu."

Chongxu Zi flicked his flywhisk, performed a Daoist bow, and said coolly, "Demonic forces dare to plague Fengdu? Utterly foolish."

"County Magistrate, leave this matter to Qingniu Guan. You need only calm the people and prevent rumors from spreading."

"Yes, yes."

County Magistrate Guo Zhengshan quickly raised his hand, "I have prepared a modest feast..."

"No need."

Chongxu Zi shook his head directly, "My purpose here is to subdue demons and exorcise evils—and other matters. I won't disturb you. Just send someone to show us the corpses."

"This... very well."

Guo Zhengshan feigned reluctance, yet secretly sighed in relief, and ordered sharply, "Changgui, take the Daoists to examine the bodies. Cooperate fully with their demands—if anything goes wrong, it's on you!"

"Yes, my lord."

Meng Changgui bowed quickly, then smiled ingratiatingly and gestured, "Esteemed Daoists, please follow me."

His family's secret method excelled at concealing aura, and with his vast underworld experience, he aroused no suspicion from the Qingniu Guan Daoists.

Yet Meng Changgui himself felt suspicion stir.

He had received Li Yan's intelligence: these Qingniu Guan Daoists were likely possessed.

But now, they showed no sign of it.

Even the Gou Die showed no reaction.

Could Li Yan be lying?

Though puzzled, he kept moving, jogging ahead to lead the Qingniu Guan group to the morgue.

Before approaching, Meng Changgui bowed his head and said humbly, "Daoist, the bodies from last night's dock are all here."

"Stop!"

Master Chongxu suddenly looked up, his eyes flickering with eerie light, and said coldly, "Heavy ying qi—still brazen even within the yamen."

"Lingfeng Zi, disperse the ying qi!"

"Yes, Master!"

The Daoist behind him solemnly bowed, drew a peachwood sword, gripped it in his right hand, formed a seal with his left, traced a talisman in midair upon the blade, then thrust it sharply at the morgue door.

Puff!

Like bursting a balloon, a sharp air explosion erupted—suddenly, dark winds howled, and streams of black smoke seeped from the door cracks.

Meng Changgui saw it and trembled violently, stammering, "Dao... Daoist, this... we..."

He knew well the corpses had gathered ying qi—he had even ordered the runners to stay away, deliberately leaving them for Qingniu Guan.

"Has anyone entered this place and been struck by the ying qi?"

Lingfeng Zi asked patiently.

Meng Changgui shook his head quickly, "The corpses were horrifically slain. No one dared approach them in the morgue."

"Good."

Lingfeng Zi nodded and followed Chongxu into the morgue.

Meng Changgui, meanwhile, cowered outside, waiting.

He had to be cautious.

Qingniu Guan, after all, was tied to Yin Changsheng.

Its origins trace back to Li Laojun, who was said to have cultivated and awakened on the mountain, then departed riding a green ox—hence the name.

But Li Laojun left no teachings; originally, only lay Daoists practiced there.

Later, Yin Changsheng cultivated on a famed mountain, transmitting several Dan Jing scriptures and spreading his Daoist methods throughout Shu.

Many Xuanmen sects in Shu were influenced by Yin Changsheng.

Qingniu Guan received one copy of the "Jindan Jue of Yin Zhenjun from Zhongzhou Xian Du Guan," later acquired the Emei martial sword techniques, and gradually established itself as one of the "Five Flowers" among the "Five Flowers and Eight Leaves."

And Chongxu Zi was at odds with the "Huangquan" organization.

The reason: their former master had been a terrestrial immortal who, after committing minor offenses and exposing his identity, was captured by a living yin officer assigned to imprison him in the netherworld.

Though the act was justified, the grudge was sealed.

Meng Changgui already had a suspicion.

Most likely, the Salt Guild had betrayed them—and Chongxu Zi saw his chance.

Bringing so many down the mountain under the guise of exorcism was a ruse—he was here to demand justice.

Thinking of this, Meng Changgui grew troubled.

This cantankerous old Daoist was dangerous—he'd surely seize the opportunity to retaliate—but if Li Yan and the others avoided him and left Fengdu, they'd fall into the Salt Guild's trap.

The key experts of the "Huangquan" organization were still absent...

As he pondered his strategy, the Daoists inside began their rituals, examining each corpse one by one, burning incense and divining.

As a proper Xuanmen sect, they demonstrated their skill: Lingfeng Zi held a yellow talisman paper, formed a seal over the corpse, gently drew it, spat a mist of water—and instantly, bloodstains appeared on the paper.

The crimson lines traced a faint female figure, yet it was shrouded in a blood-red cloud, blurred and indistinct.

Even stranger—the blood-red cloud turned black.

"Master, this is..."

Lingfeng Zi froze—he had never seen such a manifestation.

The old Daoist Chongxu frowned deeply, "It's a yao sheng. How could this appear in Fengdu?"

"Go set up an altar by the river. Perform rites tonight to suppress it."

"Master, what about you...?"

"Hmph! I'll take a stroll through the inn first."

Saying this, he opened his oiled paper umbrella and strode directly toward Wangxiang Lou Inn in the eastern city, taking no disciples.

Qingniu Guan, stationed in Fengdu, would not neglect reconnaissance—since the Salt Guild's betrayal, Li Yan's movements had been under their watch.

Inside the inn, Li Yan and the others had just finished eating.

Suddenly, he stirred, glancing toward the door.

A white-robed old Daoist, holding an oiled paper umbrella, strode forward, forming seals as he walked, exhaling a white breath that gathered at his fingertip, then swept his hand.

Chi!

On the street before the inn, stones shattered and a deep sword-cut appeared.

"I have matters tonight."

Chongxu Zi stood outside under his umbrella, coldly stating, "After I deal with the demon, I'll return to you."

"Anyone who leaves—dies!"

Saying this, he turned and left.

The group exchanged glances. Sha Li Fei stared at the sword-cut on the ground, his scalp prickling: "Sword... Sword Immortal?"

"Not quite."

Li Yan said grimly, "That's Tian Gang Zhi Qi Jue—Emei martial technique."

"That old man has quite the temper..."

(End of Chapter)