Chapter 461: An Unthinkable Secret

"Head, this…"

The accompanying yamen runners suddenly felt their heads ache.

They had come here late at night, certainly not for leisure.

Over in Chongqing, Provincial Governor Du Ling was equally stunned.

He never imagined that, after all his investigations, he'd ended up at his own gentle, peace-loving son's doorstep.

Now, Governor Du Ling had completely lost his will, lying sick in bed, refusing food and drink, speaking to no one, and too weary to fight anymore.

As for his son, he had long since vanished without a trace.

Wan Baoquan had failed to capture anyone, so he came here hoping for luck—only to find that before he could even explain, everyone had collapsed.

"Senior brother!"

His junior brother rushed in from outside, urgently saying: "Everyone in the Zhou household has collapsed and won't wake up."

Wan Baoquan nodded, without wasting words, turned and stepped into the courtyard, bowing to the night sky: "Senior uncle, you've seen it yourself—this involves the Xuanmen. Only you can handle it."

Hū~

A gust of wind swept through, and a man had already landed in the courtyard.

It was Danhezi, the temple keeper of the City God Temple.

He flicked his dust whisk, sighed at Wan Baoquan, "This matter is too troublesome. I told you, Mount Emei shouldn't get involved."

Wan Baoquan quickly put on a grin: "Senior uncle, it's not that we want to meddle—it's that these demons have gone too far, acting so recklessly, showing no respect whatsoever to Mount Emei."

"Look, such a huge incident has occurred in the city, yet no one goes to the City God Temple to burn incense—they all turn to witch doctors and shamans instead…"

Danhezi fell silent for a moment, then said: "The spell afflicting the Zhou family is not the work of the Du family—it's Paijiao's curse technique."

"They got tangled in this struggle, betting on the Canal Gang, angered the Paijiao, and even came to me before. But they harbored evil intentions, hiring a sorcerer to use innocent people as shields against disaster."

He glanced around, thoughtful: "It seems a high-level adept intervened, making them suffer the consequences of their own actions."

"No need to interfere—it has nothing to do with the killer."

"No way!"

Wan Baoquan panicked: "Senior uncle, we haven't found the killer yet—they're likely the only ones who know anything. We must revive them first!"

"Revive?"

Danhezi's eyes widened: "If I had that power, would I have been exiled to this cursed place? Wouldn't it be better to stay on the mountain and cultivate?"

"Look at what trash they sent me—had this been a good posting, would it have fallen to me?"

"Can't save them? Then find someone to bury the bodies!"

To be honest, Danhezi was also seething inside.

Chongqing was a battleground between two factions; even after they seized it due to Qingcheng Mountain's blunder, holding it firmly wouldn't be easy.

Moreover, Mount Emei itself was rife with intrigue.

He'd been shoved into this post as temple keeper against his will, and by day, he was scolded by Governor Du Ling.

Had it not been for Wan Baoquan's lineage, with whom he had deep ties, he wouldn't have touched this mess at all.

"This…"

Wan Baoquan's face twisted in despair; he quickly bowed low: "Senior uncle, even if you just give me a hint—it's impossible to report back without catching someone!"

"What if we go to the Paijiao?"

"Dream on!"

Danhezi sneered: "Do you know what a curse is?"

"It's like a thrown dart—if it misses, it bites back. To break the curse, you must pay a heavy price."

"If everyone in this world were so reasonable, how could there be so much conflict?"

Seeing Danhezi angry, Wan Baoquan shrank back, glanced around, then suddenly had an idea: "Senior uncle, the one who set the trap to make the Zhou family suffer the backlash—surely they're a high-level adept. Could we…?"

Danhezi listened, thoughtful: "We could try. Whoever did this is likely from the orthodox Xuanmen. I'll go with you—to prevent you from saying the wrong thing and offending someone."

"Thank you, Senior uncle!"

Wan Baoquan bowed quickly, a flicker of hope rising in his chest.

…………

"Senior brother, it's right here."

Less than three sticks of incense later, Wan Baoquan led his men to the old street.

His junior brother whispered: "I've already questioned people—the Wu-class group is staying here."

He pointed to an old house across the way.

Wan Baoquan nodded, about to step forward and knock—when Danhezi shook his head: "Don't bother. They're gone."

Before he finished speaking, his ears trembled violently; he snapped his head toward the distance, formed a hand seal, and pushed off the ground.

Hū~

Instantly, fierce winds surged around them.

Wan Baoquan looked up—the old Daoist, carried by wind and falling leaves, leapt twice across the rooftops, heading northwest.

"Quick, follow him!"

Wan Baoquan gave the order, and the yamen runners sprinted after him.

Danhezi moved at incredible speed—but Wan Baoquan's own skills were no slouch; though he lacked magic, his leg strength exploded, allowing him to leap over walls and rooftops, keeping pace.

Finally, he saw Danhezi stop, standing atop a high wall, flicking his dust whisk with a smile: "My fellow Daoists, don't misunderstand—I am Danhezi of Mount Emei. I mean no harm."

Wan Baoquan rounded the corner and was startled.

In the dark alley stood a group of mysterious figures, wearing Nuo masks and draped in wide robes, flickering like shadows of night spirits.

So many!

Wan Baoquan's heart leapt; he gripped his saber tightly.

He'd expected to find a single adept—but so many hidden figures lurking in Chongqing naturally raised suspicion.

Danhezi shot him a sharp glance, then bowed again: "Rest assured, we only wish to ask a few questions—we have no intention of prying into your secrets."

The group trapped in the alley was, of course, Li Yan and his companions.

Though prepared, they were still surprised by how quickly they'd been found; they moved calmly to retreat.

But they were burdened, and couldn't outrun the old Daoist.

Li Yan had already prepared to strike, the Soul-Cutting Flying Dagger ready to fly—but hearing the old man's words, he halted and asked coldly: "What do you want to ask?"

Danhezi shrugged, smiling: "The Wu-class group was set up by the Zhou family to bear the curse—was it you who freed them?"

Li Yan narrowed his eyes: "So what?"

Since they'd been found out, denial was useless.

"Please don't misunderstand…"

Wan Baoquan glanced at Danhezi, saw him nod, stepped forward, bowed, and recounted the entire story, then pleaded:

"Please help us—otherwise, the real killer will escape justice."

"Oh?"

Hearing the story, Li Yan was also surprised.

He hadn't expected the culprit to be the Provincial Governor's son.

Seeing Li Yan hesitate, Wan Baoquan bowed again: "Rest assured—I, Wan Baoquan, though in the yamen, still uphold Jianghu righteousness."

"In Jianghu, one is often bound by circumstance. You hide your identities for a reason—I understand. Once this is resolved, I'll personally escort you out!"

Li Yan thought for a moment, then nodded: "Very well."

"I have one condition: no one else must learn of our existence."

"Agreed! It's a deal!"

Wan Baoquan exhaled in relief.

To be honest, he was curious about Li Yan and his companions' identities.

But since they wished to remain hidden, he couldn't force it.

Chongqing was now in chaos, with multiple factions locked in bitter conflict; they stood here under the Emei banner, yet were the weakest among them.

Without aid, many matters would slip out of their control…

…………

Half an hour later.

Outside the Zhou mansion, yamen runners guarded all sides, hands on saber hilts, eyes sharp, scanning the surroundings.

This time, Wan Baoquan had gone all out.

He trusted no one else in the yamen—he'd brought only his own fellow disciples.

"This is how it happened…" Inside the main hall, Wan Baoquan recounted the full details, then bowed: "The other members of the Sichuan Merchants' Guild have been interrogated—they're all peripheral. These are the core."

"We must revive them—at least keep one or two alive—or we'll never find the Du boy's whereabouts."

As they spoke, the men inside the hall grew worse—bodies swollen, faces turning blue, black fluid seeping from their skin.

This black fluid was the curse's manifestation.

Like blood, once drained, the person died.

Li Yan looked at Han Kun, his emotions complex, and shook his head: "Going to the Paijiao is impossible. I can break the curse—but who survives depends on their fortune."

He wasn't speaking lightly.

This curse's origin was unknown, brutally violent—even with the Northern Emperor's Curse-Dispelling Art, it drained considerable energy.

The Wu-class group were merely collateral damage.

And all these before him were curses that had accumulated over two days and now erupted at once—he had no confidence he could save them.

!.

"Just one will do!"

Wan Baoquan immediately beamed with joy.

He had no good impression of either the Sichuan Merchants' Guild or those from the Wang Fu—what mattered was extracting a confession.

"Very well, please all of you step away for now."

Li Yan spoke to Wan Baoquan.

"Got it!"

Without a word, Wan Baoquan quickly led everyone out of the Zhou residence.

After they left, Li Yan gave another hand signal; the others instantly understood, pulling out various instruments and spreading out.

Outside, the Bai family woman stood guard, while he and Wang Daoxuan remained inside, surrounding the main hall, setting up an altar, lighting incense, and bustling about.

At the third strike of gong and drum, the Bai family woman suddenly began dancing the nuo dance, singing a folk opera in obscure local dialect.

Wan Baoquan, Dan Hezi, and the others watched from afar.

"Master, what are they doing?"

Wan Baoquan looked bewildered.

"This is yangxi."

Dan Hezi stroked his beard thoughtfully: "It's both a ritual and a drama—by appearance, it's a flower lantern opera. I've never heard of this style…"

The Bai family women were mostly sorcerers, with Bai Huan, a master, overseeing them—what they called singing opera was in truth setting up an inner altar to conceal their aura.

Dan Hezi's cultivation was inferior to Bai Huan's—he naturally couldn't sense it.

Inside the main hall, Li Yan, aided by Wang Daoxuan, stepped the Gangbu and traced talismans, murmuring softly: "Qing Jia! Heaven grants salvation, sternly suppressing the Northern Feng. The Divine Lords receive the Mandate, sweeping away all misfortune…"

With the ritual altar aiding him, the disturbance was far greater.

Instantly, a violent wind howled through the entire Zhou residence.

The gongs, drums, singing, and wind merged into one chaos—but a wisp of blue smoke rose and lingered without dissipating.

Especially now that autumn had arrived, fallen leaves swirled up everywhere, making the spectacle truly impressive.

Wan Baoquan and the others widened their eyes.

To be honest, they were merely secular disciples of Mount Emei, wandering the Jianghu—they had never seen sorcery of this level before.

"Truly a master…"

Dan Hezi also stroked his beard and nodded, his expression grave.

The aura of the Northern Emperor's Exorcism of Calamity was concealed by Bai family witchcraft—he couldn't make sense of it, assuming it was merely the effect of yangxi.

He had seen troupes that practiced wearing nuo masks, but those were mere folk arts, nothing remarkable.

Yet this display far exceeded his expectations.

Inside the main hall, as the wind spun, the yin-evil qi, mixed with a thick stench of fish and shrimp, dissipated from the ritualist's body as black smoke.

Li Yan saw this and nodded slightly.

The effect seemed even better than he'd expected.

"Roar—!"

At that moment, a beast's roar suddenly rang in his ears—eerily similar to the trapped dragon he'd encountered before, yet now tinged with a sinister chill.

The dissipating black smoke seemed to regain cohesion, converging once more and burrowing into the bodies of those on the ground.

The dragon-patterned jade tablet in his arms trembled violently.

Something's wrong!

Li Yan's heart instantly tightened.

He had assumed the Pai Sect's so-called Dragon King had merely stumbled upon an ancient dragon palace artifact, tainted by the aura of the River God.

That was one reason he'd agreed to come.

With Chongqing in chaos, he could use Mount Emei's influence to secretly stir up trouble and seize the "Dragon-Snake Token" to escape.

But now it seemed the Pai Sect's Dragon King was hiding something more…

Before he could react, white mist engulfed everything—Wang Daoxuan and the others vanished, and the ground flooded with water.

This was the sign of the Dragon Girl's dream visit.

Indeed, a pair of jade arms wrapped around him from behind, and before his eyes, a vision flickered into view:

A small temple hall, surrounded by swirling incense smoke, enshrined a statue of a deity with a dragon's head and human body.

A burly man with a long white beard knelt before the statue, holding an ancient jade bi, bowing repeatedly and chanting incantations.

The jade bi was strangely shaped—a circular ring, entwined with dragon and snake motifs, covered in colorful patterns.

And its texture was identical to the jade tablet the Dragon Girl had given him.

Beside the man sat a young man, pale-faced, lips painted red, dressed in lavish robes, giving off an inexplicably alluring aura.

Hum!

The summoning tablet in his chest also suddenly trembled.

Why are they all here?!

Li Yan was momentarily speechless.

But he vaguely guessed the young man was the missing Du family heir—evidently he had absorbed demonic qi.

The Dragon Girl's power was no match for the Underworld's bureaucracy.

Before Li Yan's eyes, thick mist once again swirled.

This was the Underworld issuing a task.

Though everything had converged, he wouldn't miss the chance—he stepped forward quickly.

The summoning tablet's sensing ability was extraordinary.

Parting the faint mist, he saw again the towering owl-shaped vessel.

Passing through it, the surroundings rapidly expanded.

In the distance, the enormous square table remained, but beside it now stood a blurred figure, dressed in an odd official robe.

Then, voices reached his ears:

"Another one found!"

"Who?"

"The Female Fork!"

"Hmm. Issue the order—capture her as soon as possible."

"My lord, we still sense the aura of the River God…"

"This is none of our concern. The Heavenly Code forbids interference in mortal destiny. Common deities have their own karmic trials. The True Lord of Manifestation has already reincarnated—whether he enters the Dharma Realm depends entirely on his destiny…"

Immediately, the black well's blood began to boil.

Information about the "Female Fork" appeared before him:

Female Fork: an ancient tribal vengeful spirit transformed into a demon, appearing as a rough, vicious woman dressed in green robes, fond of hiding inside children's bellies to steal yang qi and souls…

The reason for her escape also surfaced one by one:

Du Ling, Provincial Governor of Chongqing, had a lifelong passion for antiques. He accepted lavish gifts to perform favors, unaware one contained demonic qi that had burrowed into his young son's abdomen…

The gift-giver had clearly harbored ill intent.

Of course, Li Yan had no interest in these details.

The True Lord of Manifestation reincarnated… Dharma Realm… karmic trials…

He had just overheard something monumental!

(End of Chapter)