Chapter 478: Three-Sided Standoff

Night fell, candles glowed faintly.

Inside the room, several scholars exchanged uneasy glances.

These young gentlemen all pondered how to perform tonight to impress their fellow students.

It seemed ridiculous, yet it was human nature.

Whether they were martial artists seeking fame or court officials vying for advantage, anyone wishing to impress others had to prepare a script in advance.

As the saying goes, life is a play; without rehearsed lines, stepping onto the stage with stubbornness ensures few can perform normally.

Most will only make fools of themselves.

Those who appear glorious on stage—you have no idea how hard they worked behind the scenes, how many lines they memorized.

But some things sound amusing—until you actually encounter them…

Then they're no fun at all!

In ancient texts and ghost stories, it's common to find two or three scholars spending the night in a ruined temple, laughing and chatting as they uncover demonic tricks, standing firm in righteousness and driving the spirits away.

These young gentlemen had also prepared their lines—but as night descended, fear inevitably rose in their hearts.

The Wang Young Master swallowed hard and forced a smile. "Fellow students, tonight's affair is rather interesting. I once heard a story…"

"Wang brother, stop!"

Another scholar chuckled bitterly. "I too thought of a tale, but now is not the time. Let's all stay alert—no matter what sounds we hear, don't step outside."

"That's wise!"

"A gentleman does not stand beneath a crumbling wall. We were reckless tonight…"

The other scholars nodded in agreement.

Li Yan leaned against the wall, sword in hand, barely suppressing a laugh.

"Zhu Chen" glanced at him, then suddenly spoke: "Li Yishi, we are all unarmed. Since you're skilled in fist and foot, why not go out and see what's happening?"

As he spoke, tiny needles appeared within his sleeve.

He had assumed Li Yan was a spy for that group, and planned to keep him close to lure out whoever was behind them, avoiding trouble.

But by the time night fell, Li Yan had made no contact with anyone—he'd lost patience.

He meant to force him out, to deal with him outside.

If he refused, he'd kill him immediately.

"That's true."

To his surprise, Li Yan nodded in agreement, opened the door, flung his cloak wide, and strode calmly into the night.

"Zhu Chen"'s eyes flickered with surprise.

The other scholars panicked. The lead Wang Young Master cried out: "Zhu brother, you're foolish! This man can protect us—why let him go?"

"Exactly! Call him back!"

"We didn't even bring guards tonight…"

The others chimed in, voices overlapping.

"Shut up!"

"Zhu Chen" no longer bothered to pretend. He flipped his sleeve, revealing his right hand, calloused and scarred, fingers flicking rapidly.

Shhh! Shhh! Shhh!

Tiny iron needles shot out with a whistle.

The young gentlemen tilted their heads and collapsed one by one.

In the hollow beneath their occipital bones, iron needles protruded.

The Fengfu point—when struck with silver needles, induces unconsciousness; if pressed harder, it kills outright.

"Zhu Chen" hadn't killed them—not out of mercy, but from a lifelong habit of weighing costs and benefits.

These young gentlemen's families held considerable power in Chengdu Prefecture. A deception was enough; killing them would invite retaliation.

Not fear—just impractical.

Seeing them fully unconscious, "Zhu Chen" retrieved each needle, then tore off his Confucian robe to reveal a black night-garment beneath.

After closing the door, he pushed off the wall, leapt upward, landed silently on the tiles, and slipped after Li Yan like a phantom cat.

Yet after leaving the Wuhou Shrine, "Zhu Chen" halted, ears twitching, brow furrowed as he scanned the surroundings.

Moments ago, he'd clearly heard Li Yan's footsteps.

How had he vanished so quickly?

His wariness deepened. He pulled a black cloth from his sleeve, wrapped it around himself, and twisted—his figure vanished instantly.

Only a dark shadow sped swiftly toward the rear mountain.

He didn't notice the faint mist drifting in the dark bamboo grove—Li Yan, using the Xuan Shui Dun technique.

The Dragon-Snake Tablet's power: first, conceal one's aura; second, enhance water Dun. Perfect for Li Yan.

With this artifact, Li Yan was like a tiger given wings.

"Shadow Dun?"

Watching the man depart, Li Yan pondered.

That shadow Dun was clearly unorthodox, mixed with illusion techniques—resembling the style of the Xi Cai Men.

That's the hallmark of fringe masters.

Lacking the systematic structure of Xuan Men or Fa Jiao, they dabble in every strange trick, favoring practicality above all.

Suddenly, his ears twitched. He turned toward the Wuhou Shrine.

From within the silent temple, a sound seemed to drift.

Li Yan listened closely, then heard gongs, cymbals, and suona music, accompanied by an old man's weathered chant: "Seven stars hang high, illuminating the heavens; altar lit, we beg the Lord of Heaven…"

It was "The Seven Stars Lamp," recounting Zhuge Liang's tale of lighting seven lamps on Wuzhang Plain to prolong his life.

Hearing this, Li Yan felt a pang of doubt.

This method did exist: Xuan Men taught "Seven Stars Descend as Children to Guard the Body"—a technique to gather the seven hun, mirror the Big Dipper, and forcibly extend life.

Its older origin lies in "Worship of the Big Dipper."

Whether it ever worked historically is irrelevant—success would still violate the Heavenly Code, branding one an Yin Fan.

Unless protected by a sacred relic of the Shu Kingdom's state rites.

Zhuge Liang was long dead; no one knew the truth. This spirit before him was a folk deity born of incense and prayer, likely just a recording of opera chants from past rituals.

But why sing now, out of nowhere…?

Could something have triggered it?

Li Yan's mind stirred. He hurried to a nearby stream, chanted a spell, gripped his Gou Die, and activated Tong Shen Shu, stepping forward.

Hu~

The wind howled around him; the scenery before him shifted violently.

The Wuhou Shrine remained, but empty—incense smoke curled upward, faintly forming a figure: clad in Daoist robes, wearing a silk headband, bowing to play a zither.

Behind him, three shadowy figures emerged—Liu, Guan, and Zhang.

Seeing this was nothing unusual.

Liu Gang's secret technique, Tong Shen Shu, revealed what ordinary eyes could not see inside temples and shrines.

With jade accessories enhancing it, even outside the shrine, the vision remained.

What puzzled Li Yan was this: the statue played the zither, yet the sound was opera singing—and all the folk spirits within the shrine were drawn to it.

Could this be why the Qin Chong could wreak havoc?

Ding ding dong dong!

At that moment, the zither's melody sounded.

The sound was strange. Hearing it, Li Yan's vision blurred—he felt drowsy, on the verge of falling asleep.

He snapped to attention and immediately broke the spell.

This was the flaw of Tong Shen Shu.

Like soul departure, it made one vulnerable to such techniques.

True enough—once his soul returned to his body, the drowsiness vanished instantly, yet the zither's melody still echoed in his ears.

This was the sound heard by his Ear Spirit.

Li Yan understood at once: the Qin Chong targeted those with strong spiritual sensitivity.

Ordinary people heard nothing, slept soundly.

Those with spiritual sensitivity heard the music—and were ensnared.

Follow the ensnared, and you'd find the Qin Chong.

Shhh! Shhh! Two figures appeared—one holding a silver spear and iron net, the other cradling an ancient zither: the demon hunter Tang Ling and the Zither Demon Pei Yufang.

Clearly, they too had sensed something amiss.

"So this is how it is…"

Tang Ling stood atop the high wall, gazing down at the Wuhou Shrine, voice low: "Something must be hidden inside the shrine—something tied to the Qin Chong, allowing it to enter and harm."

The old woman Pei Yufang spoke calmly: "Knowing won't help. This place holds countless relics from Shu-Han—we have no time to search thoroughly."

"Find who's been chosen. Follow them—you'll find the Qin Chong."

Her gaze turned cold. "You handle catching the Qin Chong. I'll clear away the obstacles."

No sooner had she spoken than she leapt forward.

Cradling the ancient zither, she leapt from the wall, landed, and pushed off with her feet.

There was a loud thud; the ground cracked open, forming a pit, and the entire figure leapt into the air again, forming hand seals and plucking hard at the ancient zither.

!.

Hum!

A violent wind surged up; visible ripples swept fallen leaves in all directions, radiating an astonishing aura.

What a vicious old hag!

Li Yan narrowed his eyes and swiftly retreated.

That ancient zither of hers resembles my Cloud Thunder Divine Drum, but it draws upon Geng Metal Qi to attack.

Making such a commotion clearly aims to break through concealment techniques.

Indeed, as the wind and leaves swept past, a sound like tearing cloth echoed through the air — "Zhu Chen" immediately revealed his form.

Li Yan's heart tightened upon seeing this.

This fellow is truly cunning; his concealment technique is far superior, yet he deliberately left an opening, fled, then returned.

My earlier movements must have been spotted.

In terms of underworld experience, I'm still outmatched.

Now that his illusion was shattered and his form exposed, "Zhu Chen" showed no panic; he sneered: "Qin Mo Pei Yufang, why the rush? There are still guests here — don't let someone else take advantage."

No sooner had he spoken than he flung his wide sleeves.

Shh!

Iron needles whistled straight toward Li Yan.

Qin Mo Pei Yufang looked up and saw the needles fly into the dark depths of the forest — only to be suddenly caught between two fingers.

The mist cleared, and Li Yan slowly revealed his form.

"Not bad, kid."

"Zhu Chen"'s eyes flashed with killing intent, yet his face wore a wide smile: "Even I was fooled. Where did you come from, overriver dragon? Dare you drop a clue?"

"Easy. One-foot gate clue."

Li Yan said coolly: "You're no ordinary person either — why hide your face?"

"One-foot gate" refers to the surname "Li."

Derived from the homophone of "one foot inside the gate, one foot outside."

He provoked Li Yan to reveal his name — so Li Yan must force him to reveal his true face.

"He calls himself 'Wuxiang Young Master.'"

The old woman Pei Yufang suddenly spoke, calmly: "He's a famous swindler from Chengdu Prefecture — an 'Anzuozi' of the Bee, Hemp, Swallow, and Sparrow Four Gates. He's never shown his face — forcing him won't help."

"But you, Li Shaoxia, slipped into Chengdu without a sound — return what you took."

Hearing the old woman's mockery, "Wuxiang Young Master" didn't care; instead, he looked at Li Yan with keen interest: "You really are an overriver dragon."

"What treasure did you steal from this old shrew?"

"It's not my stuff."

Pei Yufang said calmly: "You know the 'Ruyi Baozhu' from the Shu Prince's Mansion? It's in this boy's hands."

"Ah, no wonder you fooled me."

"Wuxiang Young Master" looked as if he'd just understood.

These two were playing a duet — every word was staged.

"Wuxiang Young Master" spoke to incite conflict between Li Yan and Pei Yufang; Qin Mo immediately revealed the "Ruyi Baozhu."

She wasn't helping the Shu Prince's Mansion — she wanted to use the treasure to provoke a fight between Li Yan and "Wuxiang Young Master."

Too bad — "Wuxiang Young Master" was equally sharp; he simply shook his head: "The 'Ruyi Baozhu' may be valuable, but it's too hot to handle. I've no stomach to oppose the Shu Prince's Mansion."

He bowed to Li Yan: "This brother Li — that old shrew is Pei Yufang, known as Qin Mo."

"I only swindle for a few trinkets — she's slaughtered countless people, left no survivors, and even allied with the Shu Prince's Mansion. A real nuisance."

"Why not join forces and eliminate her first?"

Li Yan nodded: "Fine!"

"Attack!"

"Wuxiang Young Master" shouted low and lunged forward — but after two steps, he stopped, turned to stare at Li Yan, who hadn't moved, and frowned: "Young brother, why aren't you acting?"

Li Yan glanced at him, too lazy to reply.

This fellow is all performance — not a word can be trusted.

If I moved rashly, he might stab me in the back — then calmly claim I was a fool.

"Anzuozi" means the leader of swindlers — from Pei Yufang's words, he's the head of all swindlers in Chengdu Prefecture.

Li Yan would be a fool to believe him.

"Hmph!"

The old woman Pei Yufang sneered: "Wuxiang Young Master, don't underestimate this Li Shaoxia — he's built a mighty reputation in Ezhou, and he's a Living Yin Officer."

"When Yin Soldiers appear, we'll all die!"

"Oh."

Hearing this, "Wuxiang Young Master" finally grew cautious, stepping back slightly, calmly saying: "Young brother, it's just about stealing something — wasting a Gang Ling isn't worth it."

By now, the three stood in a triangle, each wary of the others.

Li Yan's Gang Lings were long gone, but he wouldn't say so — otherwise, he'd face two experts attacking him at once.

As the saying goes: talk too much, lose your edge. He stayed silent, turning his gaze to the demon hunter Tang Ling on the wall.

Tang Ling seemed not to have heard a word — he stared fixedly at the courtyard, as if waiting for something.

No one knew what the "Qin Chong" had done, but despite all the commotion, the temple's abbot and young acolytes slept like dead pigs.

"Here it comes!"

The demon hunter Tang Ling suddenly spoke.

The door of the scholar's wing room creaked open — a scholar walked out, eyes vacant.

It was Prince Wang.

Pei Yufang glanced at him coldly: "Son of Wang Ding, Right Administrative Commissioner — Wuxiang Young Master, you bear this karmic debt."

"Wuxiang Young Master" sneered: "These scholars brought it on themselves — what's it to me? Officials always talk nonsense."

Clearly, these two had long been at odds.

Tang Ling ignored their bickering. Seeing Prince Wang stumble blindly out the main gate and leave the Wu Hou Temple, he immediately followed.

Li Yan and the other two followed close behind — but kept wary distance.

After leaving the Wu Hou Temple, Prince Wang moved faster and faster, as if completely entranced, stumbling toward the hills behind.

Through the forest, branches scraped his face, leaving bloody trails.

Finally, he reached a ruined grave mound, rolled his eyes back, and collapsed stiffly to the ground.

The others widened their eyes.

The soil beside the grave mound shifted; a cold wind rose, leaves swirled, and a dark, writhing thing emerged.

Its body resembled a snake, yet bore insect-like carapace segments, like a centipede.

Its head was vaguely horse-like, long and covered in red bristles, with insect mouthparts.

Not a beast — an aberrant insect!

(End of Chapter)