Chapter 490: Deceptive Ambush

"The head of the Du family... what evidence do you have?"

Li Yan sat up straight, his expression turning grave.

I had thought it was merely a yin offender, but now it's tied to the Ghost Sect—naturally, caution is required.

If it's true,

then Du's scheme to trap me is no surprise.

"I stumbled upon this by chance."

Wu Yuqing's face was pale as she spoke: "The clues Master found were linked to a local folk tale."

"The 'Records of Strange Tales of Shu' states: Deep within Shu, in a corner of Zhongjiang, lies a village hidden among mountains, its name unknown to the world. In the village stands an ancient opera stage, long neglected, faded and peeling—yet the villagers fear it as if it were a tiger, calling it the 'Ghost Opera,' where headless men roam at midnight."

"Master said this was a Ghost Sect sacrificial rite, but after he went, he never returned. My sect also sent people to investigate, but none came back."

"Later, I secretly investigated and found the Du family frequently shipped goods near this abandoned village. I also found an old man who said the Du family once lived in this village before abandoning it."

Li Yan said gravely: "Madam is also of the Xuanmen. If you suspect this, why not inform your sect or report it to the Chenghuang Temple?"

Wu Yuqing shook her head slightly. "I did. But it was useless."

"I'm from the outer gate, not a direct inner disciple. Without the Luo family's status, I couldn't even speak up. The elders, upon hearing it involved the Ghost Sect, all told me to mind my own business and avoid trouble..."

"The Chenghuang Temple said the same. Several Daoists came, drank themselves drunk at the Du household, then returned claiming it was rumor—purely because the Luo and Du families are at odds, hence the slander..."

Li Yan listened, lost in thought.

Wu Yuqing's information was all conjecture and association. Even the Chenghuang Temple wouldn't believe it—let alone anyone else.

But the Du family's attack on him had fully exposed them.

Whether they were Ghost Sect members or hidden affiliates, the truth was clear.

Thinking of this, Li Yan spoke again: "Madam, could you tell me the location of that village? I'm passing nearby—I'll take a look."

The Zhongjiang Wu Yuqing mentioned was Neijiang.

There, the northern stretch of the Tuojiang was called Niubi Shui, the North River; the southern stretch was Zhijiang, the South River; the middle section was naturally Zhongjiang.

In early Sui times, to avoid the taboo of Emperor Taizu Yang Zhong's name, it was renamed Neijiang.

But what puzzled him was precisely this point.

The 'Records of Strange Tales of Shu' mentions Zhongjiang—meaning this tale dates back at least to the Sui or Tang dynasties. But the Ghost Sect only rose to prominence in the Song Dynasty—the timelines don't match.

Of course, there may be many hidden secrets.

Since he was already planning to detour through Neijiang, he might as well investigate.

Then Li Yan took out the brocade armguard and asked his other most pressing question: "Madam, do you know what this object is?"

"Luo An has already told me..."

Wu Yuqing shook her head slightly. "Don't laugh at me, Li Shaoxia—I'm mediocre in talent. I've held this for a long time and seen nothing unusual. Whatever it holds, it's your destiny."

"Thank you."

Li Yan didn't hide it—he revealed the object was nearly becoming sentient: "If I'm not mistaken, Madam is a 'Chushi.' How is this object forged? Could you guide me?"

"The heavens and earth mingle; all things transform into essence."

After hearing Li Yan's account, Wu Yuqing was startled, her tone even excited: "The legend is true—the elder actually succeeded!"

Seeing Li Yan's confusion, she quickly explained: "My cultivation is weak—I can't sense the qi changes within—but I know of this."

"Have you ever heard folk tales of enchanted paintings or scrolls, hung in homes to ward off evil and exorcise spirits—even creating illusions to trap people?"

"I've heard of them."

Li Yan nodded.

Such tales were common; the most famous was the 'Investiture of the Gods,' where Erlang Shen borrowed the Mountain-River Society Map to trap Yuan Hong.

Wu Yuqing sighed: "Shu brocade has two types: warp-patterned and weft-patterned. Warp-patterned brocade uses multiple colored warps to create designs; weft-patterned uses multiple colored wefts. The warp-patterned technique is unique to Shu brocade."

There are canonical texts and collateral texts; when praising someone, we say they possess talent that orders heaven and weaves earth. Legend says ancient Xuanmen immortals used gang as warp and sha as weft to forge a Shu brocade artifact. Though inferior to the Mountain-River Society Map, it held many mysteries.

"Sadly, this method has been lost. Countless predecessors tried to restore it, but none succeeded."

Li Yan hesitated: "Forgive me for saying so, but this object doesn't feel that powerful."

Since acquiring it, he'd worn it constantly, hoping his own qi would awaken its wonders.

Yet aside from the occasional singing, there was no anomaly.

If it's merely a personal music box, what use is it?

"You don't understand."

Wu Yuqing shook her head. "This object is only half-finished."

The gang and sha form the warp and weft, simulating sacred mountains, great rivers, and blessed realms. Without acupoints, how can it become alive? That elder died long ago—yet a single drop of essence still manifested as a spirit, precisely because of this.

Li Yan suddenly understood: "This object still needs a treasure to complete it!"

"Exactly."

Wu Yuqing smiled: "This is like a miniature blessed realm. The gang and sha gather, forming its own dragon vein. What treasure it nurtures depends entirely on what treasure you embed within."

Li Yan frowned: "Do you have any suggestions?"

Wu Yuqing thought a moment: "Since it's worn externally, it must withstand wind and sun. Jade or yan-sheng coins would suffice."

Li Yan immediately understood, reaching into his robe to pull out the Three-Celestial Demon-Subduing Coin-tassel.

He had collected dozens of demon-subduing coins; calling it a tassel was no longer accurate—it resembled a copper coin whip.

Its power was formidable.

Once, a single Three-Celestial Demon-Subduing Coin could keep cold altar demons from entering a door—how much more so with dozens gathered?

"Three-Celestial Demon-Subduing Coins?"

Wu Yuqing was slightly surprised, pondering: "These coins are well-known—perfectly suitable. Just embroider them where the warp and weft intersect."

"Treasures are naturally formed—no spellwork needed. Onboard is my Luo family's finest embroiderer. Li Shaoxia, rest assured..."

With that said, they turned to discussing their next plan.

Wu Yuqing agreed with Li Yan's approach.

Using Du Ping as an inside man, once they reached Ziyang County, they'd find and eliminate the hidden Du family members, then have her sect escort her swiftly to Yibin.

The conspiracy against the Luo family had already begun—not a moment to waste.

The river flowed gently; night gradually descended.

Perhaps because the Black Fish Gang had been wiped out, the Luo family members seemed noticeably more relaxed. Skillful embroiderers even fetched stored rice, lit a small stove, and cooked a pot of fish porridge.

Paired with some pickled vegetables, it was refreshing and satisfying.

After eating lightly, Li Yan went to the deck.

He raised his left arm to inspect it—the brocade armguard had changed completely.

The embroiderers were indeed skilled. Upon learning there were 108 Three-Celestial Demon-Subduing Coins, they used a fish-scale technique, layering the coins like overlapping scales, forming a scale-like armguard.

Beautiful, yet leaving ample space.

Li Yan could sense the brocade armguard and the Three-Celestial Demon-Subduing Coins now formed a unified whole—the demon-subduing power converged, and a thread of killing intent stirred within.

After embedding the coins, the singing vanished.

It had merely been a lingering remnant of thought, coalesced by the treasure, lacking sufficient essence—even if it became sentient, it remained dazed.

In truth, it was more like the lingering resonance of a failed forging.

Once the demon-subduing coins took control, the spirit naturally dissipated.

"A stitch, a thread, endless affection; a thousand threads, a memory hard to forget..."

Li Yan recalled the spirit's song, murmuring: "A thousand thoughts, still remembered—this treasure shall be called 'Thousand Thoughts.'"

He felt great anticipation for the power this treasure might yet yield.

"Aoo~ Aoo~" At that moment, a donkey's head poked over.

One eye left, one eye right—no one could tell which way it was looking.

Li Yan chuckled: "Humans can't escape the suffering of the seven emotions and six desires. Yet you, foolish donkey, have no such troubles—yet you're born to be whipped and driven. Truly, no one escapes their fate..."

His smile vanished before he finished speaking.

A faint mist of yin energy had risen over the river.

Autumn fog on a cold river was common.

But this mist was formed from yin-sha energy.

Can't wait, eh?

Li Yan's eyes grew cold as he gripped Duchen Dao.

Hours ago, he'd sensed being watched—but pretended not to notice, outwardly relaxed, inwardly alert, always prepared.

Though the Ghost Sect's presence was elusive, this wasn't their main force—likely acting on someone's orders to harass him.

Daring not to strike directly, they resorted to petty tricks.

!.

The real threat remains the Shu Prince's Mansion.

Let's settle this here!

Thinking this, Li Yan turned to Luo An: "My trouble has come. To avoid dragging you into it, I'll leave first and meet you in Ziyang City."

The old steward swallowed hard. "Li Shaoxia, be careful."

"Hmm."

Li Yan nodded softly: "Don't tell anyone yet. When I pretend to abandon you and flee, immediately order the ship to head for Ziyang County."

"I understand, Master."

The old steward Luo An understood immediately.

As they spoke, the mist over the river grew thicker.

This commotion immediately drew everyone's attention.

"Why has the fog suddenly risen?"

"It's getting cold—could it be about to rain ice?"

As they puzzled over it, a mournful, haunting song suddenly reached their ears.

"Autumn waters brim, eyes ache with longing; alone in empty chambers, tears soak my gown. I miss you but cannot find you—moonlight casts twin shadows before the flowers…"

Now, everyone sensed something was wrong.

"Bad luck—something evil is at work!"

"Li Shaoxia, have we stumbled upon something unclean?"

Meeting their gazes, Li Yan feigned a dark expression, sword in hand, scanning left and right in silence.

Seeing this, the others' hearts sank.

Though feigned, Li Yan was deeply alert.

Compared to the others, he sensed far more.

The river mist stretched endlessly; gongs and drums sounded, accompanied not only by the sorrowful opera vocals of a woman but also by various instruments—as if a troupe floated through the air.

The sounds came and went, shifted left and right, impossible to pin down.

It must be the "Ghost Painted Face"'s trick!

Li Yan had already guessed.

This fellow was, in a way, his senior—also part of the wandering Immortal troupe; the "Ghost Opera Troupe" had once been famed.

Though crushed by orthodox sects, its methods were clearly formidable.

This was a technique to induce illusion through sound, stirring the yin-evil qi of the river, turning the entire stretch into a stage—he had never seen anything like it.

If he was right, the real attack was still coming.

Huh~

At that moment, fierce winds suddenly erupted around them.

Shadows emerged from the thick mist, flitting up and down, clad in colorful opera costumes, mouths mumbling incoherently.

At the same time, gongs and drums crashed—like a grand opera just beginning.

"Far off, the golden crow sinks westward; birds return to the woods as the jade rabbit urges. Eight brothers reunite under the Song…"

This was from "The Five Platforms Reunite," Yang Yande's aria.

"Heaven and earth grow hazy; in an instant, the bright moon hangs high. I do not envy Chang'e flying to the moon palace—cold, lonely, the vast cold palace…"

This was "The Concubine Drunk on Wine."

People of Sichuan loved tea and opera; the Luo family was a great clan, with their own opera stage, frequently inviting troupes to perform private shows.

Almost all Luo family members aboard the boat could recite these arias by heart.

Yet now, the once beloved arias sounded strange and hollow.

Especially those floating shadows in the air—chilling to the bone.

Without hesitation, Li Yan seized Dunchen Blade and leapt up; in the gale, blade-light flashed, slicing through the shadows.

They were all shadow puppets, shaped like kites, but the bamboo rods supporting them were caked in foul blood—some dark art, no doubt.

Li Yan slashed left and right, yet the shadow-puppet kites multiplied.

He feigned panic, but his eyes grew colder.

Swish!

As he shattered another puppet, the broken pieces on the deck suddenly fluttered and gathered.

A black shadow shot out, gripping twin flying claws, striking straight for his back.

Concealment technique!

Li Yan's heart jolted.

This concealment technique was strange—he could not identify its origin, nor had he sensed when the opponent had slipped behind him.

Though startled, he remained calm; sidestepping and shifting his shoulder, he executed the "Overlord's Backward Sword," circling Dunchen Blade diagonally to deflect both flying claws.

Simultaneously, the Soul-Grabbing Chain shot out.

Clang! Clang!

Two sharp cracks—the flying claws were severed.

And Li Yan finally saw his attacker's face.

Dressed in a black robe, his face bore a painted mask: black base with white lines—a clear "Robed Painted Face," Bao Gong.

But the instant Li Yan saw the "Ghost Painted Face," the man's head jerked—and transformed into a multicolored "Armored Painted Face," a warrior.

In that fleeting moment, Li Yan's mind blurred.

The man had fused soul-seizing sorcery into his "face-changing" act.

Only a breath passed before Li Yan recovered—he hurled two Soul-Cutting Flying Daggers, piercing straight for the man's forehead.

But the "Ghost Painted Face" was also a Hua Jing expert; in that fleeting instant, his right hand, sharp as a blade, slashed across Li Yan's throat.

Li Yan retreated in time, avoiding the strike, but the man's nails scraped his skin, and his hand-blade severed several strands of hair.

Swish!

As the Soul-Cutting Flying Daggers neared him, the "Ghost Painted Face" shook his black robe—as if pulled by unseen force—and flew backward, vanishing into the mist.

So that was their plan!

Li Yan instantly understood their strategy.

All prior actions were meant to obtain his blood and hair.

Someone else must be waiting to cast a curse upon him!

"Where are you going!"

Thinking this, Li Yan feigned panic, formed hand seals, chanted incantations, and activated Xuan Water Concealment, leaping into the river.

Soon, the mist over the river cleared, leaving only the passengers on the painted boat staring at each other…

(End of Chapter)