Chapter 462: The Pai Jiao

After receiving the task, the thick fog instantly dispersed.

The Dragon Girl's power was extraordinary, capable of lulling people into dreams without a sound—even Li Yan couldn't fathom how it worked.

But the illusion of the Warrant of Summoning shattered it outright.

When he opened his eyes, all illusions had vanished.

Li Yan didn't care; he had obtained sufficient intelligence.

The son of the Chongqing Provincial Governor was manageable—he had been corrupted by demonic qi since childhood, and the Demon Lord "Nü Cha" excelled at disguise, which is why his true nature only surfaced now.

Moreover, this affair seemed to be a carefully laid trap.

Planting a seed, waiting for the evil flower to bloom.

What shocked Li Yan even more was the secret he overheard.

The Manifested True Lord has been reborn…

Only by enduring trials can one enter the Dharma Realm…

The trials are tied to the River God Great Lord…

This revelation utterly overturned his worldview.

Though the Manifested True Lord was famed, he was merely a mortal deity—whether Li Erlang or Yang Erlang, he was a manifestation of centuries of popular faith, not a real entity.

Yet this renowned mortal deity had been reborn!

And must now endure trials to ascend to godhood!

The mysterious Yun Zhong Jun was the same—he had originated as natural clouds and thunder, born from incense and worship, and now also intended to be reborn…

At that moment, Li Yan suddenly recalled the words of Jade Dragon Zi:

"Seek nothing for truth…"

Could it be that Jade Dragon Zi knew something as well?

Regardless, this was an opportunity.

Li Yan still didn't know how to proceed.

But immense benefits surely lay within.

No wonder Yin Changsheng expended great effort, leaving no legacy of his own, only two jade pendants.

He was peering into the Heavenly Mandate!

Originally, this was merely the Dragon Girl's request; even with the elusive Dragon Palace Water Mansion, Li Yan had regarded it as a nuisance.

But now, he must take it far more seriously.

"Hmm…"

At that moment, a faint moan arose.

Li Yan snapped back to attention and looked ahead.

One of them had already awakened.

Not a member of the Zhou family, nor a master of the Canal Guild, but a sturdy servant of the Zhou household.

Soon after, several other servants gradually regained consciousness.

Li Yan frowned and turned to Wang Daoxuan.

Wang Daoxuan, deep in thought, whispered: "The curse's targets have priority—the Pai Jiao's main target was the Zhou bloodline, followed by the Canal Guild and the Sichuan-Shaanxi Merchants' Association; these servants were merely collateral damage."

"They have the highest chance of survival."

As Wang Daoxuan said, the Zhou servants awoke one by one—though weak and dazed, their curses were fully lifted.

Soon after, Han Kun and the others began moaning.

They had trained in martial arts for years; they had a foundation.

But their condition suggested they had barely saved their lives—they would be useless from now on, unable to wield their skills, and forced to endure pain during damp, rainy weather.

Li Yan saw this and sighed faintly.

Though they were old acquaintances, some misfortunes are self-inflicted; according to Wan Baoquan's intelligence, Han Kun had actively helped the Zhou family hire sorcerers and devise schemes to shift calamity onto others.

Once, in Manchuan Pass, Han Kun had appeared world-weary, ready to retire from the Jianghu and wash his hands clean.

Who knew he suddenly became an elder? Once ambition stirred, his nature changed completely.

Truly, life is impermanent, fortune and misfortune unpredictable.

As for the Chen father and son, they were both dead.

Li Yan didn't know that this entire chain of events was orchestrated by the ambitious father-son duo and the powerful Chen family behind them.

To him, they were merely passing figures—he didn't care.

Finally, the yin demonic qi dissipated.

The ritual was over; only a few Chen servants and the crippled Han Kun and his companions remained alive.

Sha Lifei ran out of the mansion and waved his hand.

Wan Baoquan's face lit up; he immediately led his men inside, saw Han Kun and the others still unconscious, and though relieved, grew impatient: "Gentlemen, when will they awaken?"

"No need to wait."

Li Yan lowered his voice directly: "During the ritual, I divined the location of the Du family's young master through them."

Wan Baoquan's eyes brightened: "Where?"

"The Pai Jiao's Dragon King Temple!"

…………

Another morning arrived.

Though the fog over Chongqing had lifted, the sky was now thick with dark clouds, and a light rain drizzled down.

The autumn rain lingered, soaking fallen leaves, chilling to the bone.

Like the weather, a gloom hung over the hearts of Chongqing's people; absurd rumors spread everywhere.

Some claimed demons disguised as imperial officials devoured people…

Others said the Chongqing Provincial Governor used children to brew elixirs…

Among these, Shu Wangfu's agents had certainly stoked the flames.

Households locked their doors, hung peach branches, and pasted yellow talismans—regardless of efficacy, they sought peace of mind.

Some ignorant Jianghu heroes even cut roosters' heads, drank blood wine, and prepared to infiltrate the governor's mansion and kill the entire family.

In truth, the Chongqing Provincial Governor's faction had brought this upon themselves.

They had been sent by high imperial officials to Sichuan to counterbalance the Shu Wangfu and prevent future unrest.

The goal was sound, but their choice of personnel was disastrous.

Most of these officials had long sided with the Open-Sea Faction, driven by greed and lust for profit; upon arrival, they seized power and amassed wealth.

The Shu Wangfu's officials weren't saints either—many had already been corrupted by the Salt Guild, accepting vast bribes.

Yet some things are strangely paradoxical.

The Shu Wangfu's officials were mostly locals; though they stole silver from the imperial treasury, the people of Sichuan saw it as less harmful—they were still one of us.

In contrast, outsiders were deeply unpopular.

The anger long simmering among the people now erupted fully.

Though the garrison had stationed soldiers outside the governor's mansion and the officials' residences, they couldn't stop citizens from throwing human waste.

In short, chaos reigned.

Meanwhile, Battalion Commander Liu Gan, under his superior's guidance, finally understood his precarious position and became a mad dog—attacking anyone, whether outsider or Shu Wangfu ally, who disturbed Chongqing.

Thanks to this mad dog, Chongqing hadn't collapsed entirely.

But Liu Gan himself was nearing his breaking point.

He knew that only by swiftly resolving the matter and arranging a cover-up to temporarily halt the conflict between both sides could he hope to survive.

"My lord, Captain Wan requests an audience!"

As he grew agitated, a subordinate suddenly reported.

"Tell him to go somewhere cool!"

Liu Gan waved his hand impatiently.

He was barely holding on himself—he had no time for Emei's face.

Besides, the information he'd provided earlier was meant to trap Wan Baoquan; he had known about Du's escape long before.

"But, Captain Wan says he's found the man."

"What? Bring him in at once!"

…………

Soon, the entire Commandant's Office sprang into action.

Not only that, but troops from the garrison were mobilized—even artillery pieces and a squad of musketeers were deployed.

With the Chongqing Provincial Governor's downfall, the Commandant's Office had taken full control; other factions acquiesced, so this minor Battalion Commander Liu Gan now temporarily held military authority over Chongqing.

Other factions also received word.

Inside the hidden old mansion.

The Confucian-robed elder of the Shu Wangfu slowly closed his book, surprised: "To the Dragon King Temple?"

"Correct."

The subordinate bowed respectfully: "Wan Baoquan located the Zhou family, the Canal Guild, and the Sichuan-Shaanxi Merchants' Association leaders—all cursed. Emei's masters rescued some, extracted intelligence. Now, the Dragon King Temple is surrounded; Liu Gan, that mad dog, ordered his men to fire—killed many…"

"Pai Jiao!"

The Confucian-robed elder snorted coldly: "I thought they were merely caught up in this—never imagined they secretly orchestrated such a grand scheme…"

As they spoke, he suddenly remembered something, his expression shifting unpredictably; he cried urgently, "Quick! Get all our people out—do not involve ourselves any further! Erase every trace, leave no evidence behind!"

"Yes, my lord!"

Though his subordinates did not understand what had happened, seeing the old man's urgency, they swiftly departed to carry out his orders.

After he left, the old man's face remained grim.

"Master, has something changed?"

The woman beside him, who had been adding incense to the inkstone, asked softly.

The Confucian-robed old man fell silent for a moment, then spoke slowly: "I have just remembered something."

"Years ago, a strange man came to the Wang Fu. His speech was astonishing, his mind holding the cosmos; everyone in the Wang Fu revered him, and even the Prince himself often held candlelit talks with him."

!

"He once said the Shu Wang Fu had reached its peak and would soon draw the court's suspicion. He left behind a hidden hand: 'Mu Tu wu zi.'"

"Back then, we thought it a joke. Now I realize—'Mu Tu' is 'Du,' isn't it?"

The woman gasped: "That was years ago—could he have foreseen that the Provincial Governor of Chongqing would be Du Ling?"

"Not foreseen—engineered!"

The old man's face darkened, his teeth grinding: "A few days ago, an undercover agent from the Regional Military Commissioner's office infiltrated the mansion. The Chief Secretary uncovered him, lured him out, and extracted his purpose."

"He was searching for a demon named 'Zhao Changsheng,' the former leader of the Song Dynasty's Ghost Sect—the very same strange man who entered the mansion back then."

"Fortunately, he left long ago and had no further ties to the Wang Fu. We fooled him into leaving."

The woman shook her head: "That demon acted on his own—this has nothing to do with us, right?"

The Confucian-robed old man fell silent again. "It was the Dragon Head of the Pai Jiao, Huo Jiao, who recommended that demon to the Wang Fu—through the Second Young Master's connections."

The woman's face turned deathly pale. "This is a critical moment—we cannot implicate the Second Young Master."

"I know!"

The Confucian-robed old man's gaze turned grim. "Huo Jiao must die. We return to Chengdu Fu immediately."

"This matter is not simple. For the Second Young Master to claim the Heir position, we must proceed with caution—lest we fall into a trap..."

…………

"Will you not surrender? Are you rebelling?!"

Along the Jialing River, Liu Gan roared.

Near the riverbank, the water was densely packed with bamboo rafts, linked together to form nearly an island, bearing not only homes but also shops and penned chickens and ducks.

This was the Pai Jiao—the Raft People—who spent their entire lives on the water, making their living by floating logs.

Their life was hard.

They were routinely oppressed by officials and local powers, so the Pai Jiao were exceptionally united.

Now, many corpses lay floating on the river.

Blood stained the water red.

Many Pai Jiao men had died blocking the imperial soldiers; they cared for nothing else—upon hearing the raid was for the Raft Head, they immediately grabbed knives and fought back.

But the times had changed.

These men were skilled with blades, yet before a full line of musketeers, they were no different from commoners.

Many elderly, weak, women, and children still stood in front.

Though terrified, they did not retreat a step.

The Raft People never lacked courage.

"Wu wu~"

From the crowd came the sound of a child crying, but instantly a hand clamped over its mouth; eyes glared defiantly at the soldiers.

"Hmph... ungrateful fools."

Liu Gan stared at the distant Dragon King Temple, his eyes anxious, his face twisted into a cold sneer: "Prepare!"

At his command, the garrison troops dragged out cannons, swiftly loaded them with gunpowder and shrapnel, and raised torches.

Though not modern cannons, they fired scattered shrapnel—each shot killed or wounded a large group.

"My lord, do not!"

Wan Baoquan, seeing this, panicked and rushed to block him.

"Get out of my way!"

Liu Gan's eyes were bloodshot. "If he escapes, I'm finished—don't waste my time with nonsense..."

Before he finished speaking, his body stiffened.

A flying dagger suddenly appeared, pressed against his throat.

"Make another move, and I'll slit your throat, you mad dog!"

A cold voice came from the crowd.

It was Li Yan who had moved.

He had intended to let the soldiers disperse the Pai Jiao first, giving him a chance to slip in and capture the target.

He had not expected the Pai Jiao to be so stubborn.

Nor had he expected Liu Gan to have descended into such madness.

Flying sword?

Liu Gan did not recognize the Soul-Cutting Flying Dagger, but seeing this miraculous skill, he calmed—yet before so many eyes, his pride would not let him yield. He still blustered: "Wan Baoquan, are you rebelling?"

"Don't play games with me!"

Wan Baoquan, now angry, ignored Liu Gan entirely. He stepped forward and shouted: "All of you, you've heard my name—Wan Baoquan. The Yaoren affair in Chongqing has thrown the city into panic. The killer is inside that temple—I swear it on my life!"

"Think of your children. The river is full of vengeful spirits. If the Yaoren escapes, can you still sleep peacefully?"

At these words, many hesitated.

But then, several angry voices rose from the crowd:

"The officials are all liars!"

"They've killed so many of us—what's left to say?"

"Yes, this isn't over!"

It was several Raft Heads among them shouting.

"No time left—hold the line for me!"

Li Yan stared at the distant Dragon King Temple, gave a low cry, then leapt forward, his feet striking the ground as if shrinking distance, charging straight through the crowd.

"Stop him!"

The Pai Jiao men cried out urgently.

But their best blade-wielders had already suffered heavy losses—how could they stop Li Yan?

Li Yan leapt over the crowd, feet striking the ground as if teleporting, racing straight toward the Dragon King Temple.

"Charge!"

Seeing this, Liu Gan forgot caution and shouted: "Disperse them! The skilled ones, follow me!"

He was no military commander. Seeing Li Yan break through the crowd, his first thought was fear that someone else would steal the glory.

Soon, the Pai Jiao were scattered. The Regional Military Commissioner's elite, along with Sha Li Fei and Lu San, charged toward the Dragon King Temple.

Outside the temple, many Pai Jiao warriors remained.

Seeing Li Yan approach, they drew bows and fired arrows to block him.

Li Yan did not slow. His blade flashed, his feet moved in linked steps, and alone, he deflected every arrow.

But he had been delayed.

"Stop them!"

Liu Gan secretly rejoiced, ordered his men to clear a path, then rushed into the temple with two others, brandishing new-style firearms.

"Fool!"

Li Yan cursed under his breath and ignored them.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Three gunshots echoed from within the Dragon King Temple.

"Dragon Head!"

The Pai Jiao cried out in panic.

But soon, they realized something was wrong.

Thick black mist suddenly rose from within the temple.

Gulu gulu!

Three heads rolled out—Liu Gan and his two companions.

Their eyes still held terror and confusion.

Li Yan also stopped, swiftly retreating, blocking Wan Baoquan, Sha Li Fei, and the others.

He could feel it—the Dragon King Temple held a dark, sinister consciousness awakening...

(End of Chapter)