Chapter 459: Shituo Forest

Night was ink-black, the evening wind moaning softly.

Splash! Splash!

The Jialing River lashed the shore, yet could not drown out the sound of digging beside the rocks.

A fire-stick lay beside him; under its faint glow, the yamen runner swung his hoe again and again, eyes darting, tense and terrified.

"Wu-wu~"

Beside his ear, he seemed to hear the crying of a child.

He shuddered, and with the stench of rotting flesh filling his nostrils, he finally collapsed to his knees, clasping his hands together and trembling: "Don't blame me, I'm just following orders…"

Saying this, he picked up the hoe and resumed digging.

Again and again, sweat dripped steadily.

He felt something watching him from all around, but his whole body shook, and he dared not lift his head.

Crack!

A sharp snap—he finally struck something.

Peering at it with the fire-stick, his blood ran cold.

There, in the soil, lay the rotting head of a child, eyes hollow, crawling with maggots, as if staring up at him.

Stranger still, the lips curled into a strange smile.

"No, no…"

The runner's hair stood on end; he muttered: "When we buried it, the head was facing down—how did it turn?"

"Maybe you remembered wrong?"

A cold voice suddenly came from behind.

"Ahh—!"

The runner jumped, whirling around.

On the nearby rock stood a dark silhouette, looking down at him from above.

"Yuan Aqiu—it's you!"

Though the light was dim, the runner recognized him: Wan Baoquan's younger brother, fellow disciple of the Huamen of Emei.

Both were head runners, but belonged to different factions.

He was a Chongqing local kingpin, third-generation yamen runner, well-connected in both legal and illegal circles, always pocketing silver.

Wan Baoquan, by contrast, had earned his reputation and gained the favor of the Chongqing yamen, gradually becoming known as the First Divine Runner of the Southwest.

The benefits were obvious.

At least, the Huamen's martial schools saw a sudden surge in disciples.

Wan Baoquan's fame owed much to the help of his fellow disciples; they had long kept their distance from each other.

"Damn it…"

The runner cursed under his breath, then pleaded: "Brother, listen to me—don't stir up trouble over this. Pretend you saw nothing."

Seeing the other's cold silence, the runner flew into a rage, drew his blade with a clang, and lunged forward.

"Die, you bastard!"

But as the blade struck out, the figure vanished before his eyes.

Wan Baoquan's lineage, besides being one of the Eight Leaves' Huamen, was also known as Canbi Men.

"Can" refers to the continuous motion of a silkworm spinning silk; "Bi" means tightly sealing the opponent's limbs, avoiding strength and striking weakness—hence the name.

This school emphasized striking, seizing, and throwing. As the runner's blade thrust forward, the opponent rolled midair with effortless grace, flipping over his head and wrapping his right arm around the runner's neck.

Thud!

The runner felt the world spin—he was flipped onto his back, pinned to the ground.

Seeing him unconscious, Wan Baoquan's brother spat, then stepped to the deep pit and peered down.

Seeing the rotting child's corpse, his eyes burned with killing intent; he carefully scanned the surroundings.

This time, he noticed more oddities.

Many patches of sand appeared to have been disturbed…

Soon, a large group of runners arrived; torches blazed along the riverbank, the clatter of hoes and picks never ceasing.

One child's corpse after another was unearthed—every three feet, a body, all heavily decayed, faces turned upward to the sky…

Wan Baoquan felt his scalp crawl; he muttered:

"Shituo Forest!"

…………

"Hurry, you go over there!"

"You search that side!"

"Search every inch, you bastards!"

As dawn broke, the quiet of the streets shattered.

Several runners and a squad of garrison soldiers burst into the old street, smashing doors and ransacking homes.

Due to the plague years ago, many had died here; later, more strange events occurred, making the alley feared by Chongqing folk as an ill-omened place.

Only itinerant performers dared to stay.

"Where are you from?"

"Do you have entry permits?"

"What's that?!"

The runners and constables stormed in like wolves, either ransacking wildly or dragging people for interrogation, sending the performers into wails of terror.

Because of the Wu Clan incident, many troupes had already fled; those left were beaten and interrogated, filled with regret.

Crash!

The small courtyard where Li Yan and the others stayed was kicked open.

But as they entered, a stench hit them.

There stood Xiao Company Commander Chuqi in the courtyard, tail swaying, two large emerald eyes fixed on the soldiers.

The soldiers' pupils instantly lost focus.

Li Yan and the others stood in the courtyard, but to the soldiers' eyes, the yard was overgrown with wild grass, empty and deserted.

"Leave—it's empty!"

The lead soldier shouted, and they withdrew.

After they left, the courtyard gate slowly closed.

Lu San had been watching the surrounding streets; the soldiers had been spotted before they even arrived.

Xiao Company Commander Chuqi had finally mastered the Mind-Confusing Art.

Though still crude, it was enough to fool these soldiers.

After searching in vain and extorting silver from the performers, the soldiers finally left satisfied.

"Damn!"

After they left, Sha Lifei grumbled: "We just killed a few evil beggars—why this madness?"

Li Yan frowned, glancing at Lu San: "San'er, have Lidong check what's happening elsewhere."

Lu San nodded, raised his hand—the falcon soared into the sky, circled once over Chongqing, then landed, squawking.

"Full-city search," Lu San replied grimly.

At this, everyone exchanged glances.

A full-city search was rare—it required mobilizing garrison troops, blocking roads, and invading homes; deeply unpopular.

Especially in Chongqing, the largest port in the southwest, with complex traffic and thriving trade—what damage would it cause?

Li Yan frowned. "Something's off. Stay here—I'll investigate."

Saying this, he chanted the incantation and activated Xuan Shui Dun.

Today, Chongqing's fog had thinned slightly, but the sky remained gloomy, mist clinging to the mountain city like gauze.

As soon as Xuan Shui Dun activated, Li Yan vanished, appearing in nearby streets; after overhearing soldiers' idle chatter, his expression darkened, and he swiftly returned to the manor.

"Those beggars are suspicious!" Li Yan said, meeting their gazes. "Last night, the yamen dug up hundreds of child corpses buried in the earth along the riverbank—dense as a forest, every eye gouged out."

Wang Daoxuan frowned. "Shituo Forest?"

Li Yan nodded. "Likely."

"What's a Shituo Forest?" Sha Lifei asked.

Wang Daoxuan shook his head. "'Shituo Forest' originates from Shendu (ancient India), meaning 'gravefield,' also called 'Cold Forest.'"

"Later adopted by Buddhist sects as a place of cultivation, to swiftly break attachment to the physical body. The 'Essentials of Self-Sacrifice Sutra' advises that after death, one should divide one's flesh and offer it to the Shituo Forest, to be devoured by birds and beasts."

"Before the Sui and Tang dynasties, Buddhist regions in Han lands practiced this, but later, demons exploited it for dark arts—so it was banned."

"Now, Tibetan Buddhism still preserves it; Buddhist sects retain the White Bone Contemplation method, though rarely seen."

"The recent popular 'Journey to the West' mentions white bones piled high beneath Ling Mountain's Lion-Camel Ridge—likely referring to the Shituo Forest."

Sha Lifei stared blankly: "So you train in graveyards…?"

He cut himself off, glancing at Li Yan.

!.

Li Yan shook his head. "Different. My method draws on yin-sha energy; the Shituo Forest method is about seeing the body as illusion."

"Killing to create a forest—someone must be practicing a corrupted offshoot, and they're targeting only children, gouging out their eyes…"

Wang Daoxuan's heart tightened—"Borrowing fortune to break through!"

…………

"Someone is borrowing fortune to break through!"

Inside the main hall of Chongqing's prefectural yamen, a white-bearded Daoist spoke with calm authority.

Unlike the Wudang Daoists, he wore a pure white robe, held a fly whisk, had white hair and a youthful face, tall and slender, exuding an aura of transcendent grace.

The Daoist's title was Danhezi, a master of Emei, and also the temple keeper of Chongqing's City God Temple.

On the high seat, Provincial Governor Du Ling stared at the dossier in his hands, his anger barely contained, and said in a low voice: "Master, the City God Temple oversees all Xuan matters in Chongqing, and the Enforcement Hall has allocated no small sum over the years—why did this happen?"

He had been impeached by Chengdu officials; though protected by powerful court ministers and kept his post, the Emperor had issued a reprimand.

Du Ling was shrewd—he understood what this meant.

He had done nothing wrong; the Emperor was also wary of the Shu Prince. Though no action would be taken, measures must be taken to balance power.

Thus, upon arrival, he swiftly moved to seize control of Chongqing.

But now, the southwestern campaign is at a critical juncture; the imperial reprimand was a command to stand down, to cause no trouble now.

He was prudent—he immediately feigned illness and rarely appeared in public.

Who could have imagined another massive scandal would arise?

Hearing the governor's rebuke, the Daoist showed no concern, merely replying calmly: "Your Excellency, forgive me—this humble Daoist has managed the City God Temple for less than a year, but judging from the corpses, this has been going on for at least two years."

Provincial Governor Du Ling's gaze turned cold, and he dropped the matter.

He knew well of the affairs between Qingcheng and Emei, but though these two sides clashed, they never meddled in matters between the Shu Prince and the court.

He did not wish to press too hard and stir up trouble.

Thinking of this, Provincial Governor Du Ling asked again: "Master, what is 'borrowing fortune to break through'?"

Danhezi flicked his fly whisk and said gravely: "Cultivators often fail to break through due to limited talent or advanced age—this is called insufficient destiny or fortune in the Xuan world."

"Some, in desperation, resort to dark arts, devouring the fortune of children to break through."

"These demons are utterly insane!"

Provincial Governor Du Ling slammed his fist on the table, then turned to the side: "Captain Wan, any progress?"

Wan Baoquan immediately bowed: "Someone from the yamen is involved—I've arrested him and am interrogating him under torture."

"But he's stubborn—he insists he alone ordered the human trafficking, and no one else is involved."

"Keep questioning—break his silence!"

Provincial Governor Du Ling ordered coldly, then hesitated and added: "Since someone from the yamen is involved, this touches the court's dignity—Captain Wan, don't speak carelessly about what you shouldn't."

"Yes, Your Excellency, I understand."

Wan Baoquan bowed quickly: "All have been ordered to silence—only that rogue cultivators are to blame. The garrison troops are searching everywhere."

Provincial Governor Du Ling nodded in satisfaction.

"Settle this within three days."

"Master, this matter also requires your attention."

"Your Excellency, this humble Daoist understands."

After these instructions, Provincial Governor Du Ling turned and left.

Danhezi also turned to leave the hall, but had taken only two steps when Wan Baoquan hurried after him, face twisted in distress: "Master, give me some advice—what the hell is going on?"

Danhezi glanced at him coolly: "You're the top hunter in the southwest—why ask me? I'm no detective."

"This…"

Wan Baoquan glanced around, then whispered: "The Commandant's men have been tailing us since the start—though they haven't interfered, they keep hovering, threatening us."

"And that kid—I know him. Greedy, lustful, cowardly, a spineless fool. Yet now he's as stubborn as a stone—won't open his mouth. The real culprit must be someone powerful."

"I've got a feeling we've been set up."

He could speak proper Mandarin, but when flustered, his Sichuan dialect poured out.

Danhezi looked at the sky and said calmly: "Qingcheng's people have left, taking all the City God Temple's she ling troops—the mountain is in chaos now, unable to offer support. This truly troubles me."

"In my view, this is a clash between two tigers. The Commandant's men likely know something—probe subtly, and resolve this quickly."

"Remember: uphold justice. Whatever happens, the Xuan sect must not get involved!"

With that, he swept his sleeves and strode away.

His words were cryptic.

Yet Wan Baoquan's face turned ashen—he muttered under his breath: "Damn my ancestors…"

Suddenly, he realized something—he turned without a word and ran toward the prison, shouting to his junior: "Quick, come with me—get him out now, don't leave him in there!"

His junior stared, bewildered, and followed.

Outside the prison, Wan Baoquan immediately asked the jailer: "Has anyone come by?"

The jailer hesitated.

"Speak up, or I'll beat you to death!"

Wan Baoquan roared.

The jailer hurried to reply: "Just now, Director Zhao came by…"

"You idiot!"

Wan Baoquan, furious, stormed into the prison.

The yamen clerk arrested last night was a high-profile prisoner, held deep in the dungeon under heavy guard.

But as Wan Baoquan entered, he sensed something was wrong.

All jailers and clerks stood frozen, faces blue, lips curled in eerie smiles, no breath left.

He drew his long blade with a clang and rushed to the deepest cell.

Inside, the clerk from last night lay drenched in blood, his head severed and rolled on the floor; before him stood a middle-aged official.

"Zhao—you've gone mad!"

Wan Baoquan roared, disbelief shaking him.

Director Zhao had always been a kind man in the yamen, often drank with him, and when drunk, recited poetry endlessly—Wan had mocked him many times.

How could he suddenly do this?

The middle-aged official, facing away, slowly turned as Wan Baoquan arrived, his face twisting into a grotesque smile.

He slashed his own throat with a small knife.

Puff!

Blood sprayed, the prison's light flickered wildly…

(End of Chapter)