Chapter 495: The Yin Bureau

The night was deep, the fishing lights far away.

Behind Ziyang County's walls, the forest thrived.

A narrow path wound through the mountain; few traveled it by land, since it neared the Tuojiang waterway, and autumn rains had collapsed the trail, left unrepaired.

In a hollow of the back mountain stood a small shrine to the Mountain God.

Its incense was weak, the temple nearly abandoned, and it faced directly onto a stone quarry—half the mountain had been hollowed out, and someone had begun carving a stone Buddha, but only the mold was finished before work halted.

The broken Mountain God, the broken stone Buddha.

They stared at each other, strangely amusing.

Inside the main hall of the shrine, candles flickered dimly.

The painted statue lay toppled on the ground, its body marked clearly by footprints—someone had kicked it off the altar.

In the center of the hall, twenty-four candles formed a ritual array, bound together with red cords, each hanging white talismans with black characters.

At the heart of the candle array stood an idol.

The idol was crude and fierce, clad in animal hides, muscles knotted, eyes bulging, features grotesque, one hand wielding a blade, the other gripping a severed head.

Two Daoists sat cross-legged before the idol.

Their faces were grim, black blood oozing from their lips, reeking of decay; both hands formed seals, lips moving continuously in chant.

Others circled the array, each holding a short blade strikingly similar to the one in the idol's hand, fingers twitching, producing a rhythmic tinkling like music.

At the same time, they shook their heads wildly, as if mad.

The red cords wrapped around the candles carried a sharp, metallic stench—as if soaked in blood.

When the candles burned down to the red cords, all cords snapped instantly, and the white talismans tied to them burst into ash.

The two Daoists in the center suddenly opened their eyes.

A distinct cut appeared on their necks—as if a blade had circled their heads, slicing through skin, blood streaming.

Yet strangely, their complexions began to improve.

After spitting out another stream of black blood, both exhaled in relief.

"What exactly was that thing?"

One wiped the blood from his lips, still shaken.

When they found Du Ping, dusk was near and the streets still held pedestrians—they couldn't storm in openly to kill.

Seeing a guest arrive, they planned to use puppetry to control him, then slaughter everyone inside.

That guest was none other than the Chengdu magnate…

"Definitely not human!"

The other Daoist stared at the cracks on the idol, his expression shifting, "We underestimated the Luo family—no telling where they found such a master."

Around them sat a dozen knife-wielders, all dressed in short tunics, long blades strapped to their backs, eyes cold.

Among them was a young man, plainly dressed but with pale, refined features and a jade ring on his finger, exuding quiet wealth.

He frowned, "Keeping Du Ping alive is a lingering threat."

"The eldest branch's cultivation failed—they won't live many more days. By custom, the second branch takes over. They don't know the truth, and those ledgers will eventually be uncovered."

As Li Yan suspected, these Du family members were Ghost Sect infiltrators; after leaving their village, they used dark arts to seize property and rose to become the largest wine merchants in Sichuan.

But the longer an infiltrator stays, the more they change.

The Du family branched out, growing larger, splitting into five branches.

Some possessed cultivation potential and were secretly absorbed into the Ghost Sect; others remained ignorant, serving as cover.

But how many awaken true spiritual abilities?

Li Yan saw so many because that's his trade—he dealt only with fellow practitioners.

Spread across regions, they were relatively rare.

Within a single family, they were even scarcer.

As the family expanded, their strength diluted; had the old patriarch not been a Ghost Sect member, they'd have lost even this sliver of power.

They'd considered bringing the entire family into the sect.

But hearts differ—not all enjoy such games, and they nearly got reported by kin seeking wealth.

Besides, the family business couldn't function without these people.

Thus, the Du family split into two parts: visible and hidden.

Precisely because of this structure, they'd escaped detection.

The young man was Du Yuanguang; his mission this time had two objectives.

One: kill Luo family's Lady Wu. Two: make Du Ping die by accident.

Everything had proceeded smoothly—until urgent news arrived from the Du household: withdraw most forces to spread rumors across regions, to slander and destroy Li Yan.

In the end, they failed at both.

Thinking of the punishment awaiting him, Du Yuanguang's heart swelled with resentment: "Li Yan killed a Ghost Sect member from Ezhou—what does that have to do with our Du family? I can't fathom why the Ancestor meddled in this mess."

"Yuanguang, watch your tongue!"

One Daoist's face darkened at once.

Du Yuanguang fell silent, shifting topic: "Uncle, the Blood-Transmission Jade Emperor Sect has sent many. They won't provoke us, but they'll protect that Luo woman—what do we do?"

The Daoist pondered, then said: "Have the Yibin contingent act swiftly. The officials have already been warned. The Luo family has angered the Wang Fu—they have no backing."

"Once the deed is done, even if she returns, she'll be powerless."

"As for Li Yan, we needn't touch him—just leak his whereabouts to the Wang Fu, and let them kill him for us."

Before he finished speaking, a voice rang from outside:

"You've thought this all too nicely!"

"Who?!"

"Grab your weapons!"

The temple's occupants jumped in alarm.

They had sorcerers, knife-wielders, and had already released yin spirits into the mountains as sentinels—never expecting anyone could slip in unseen.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The knife-wielders drew their blades, power surging.

Though seated cross-legged moments before, they leapt instantly, hurtling toward the temple's entrance.

They were all death-servants cultivated by the Du family over the years.

No families, controlled by drugs, excellent martial aptitude, trained by masters—most had reached Hidden Force.

This force alone could dominate the region.

But before they landed, they saw a figure standing outside the ruined shrine—Li Yan.

Seeing the knife-wielders leap out, Li Yan moved faster.

He had already drawn his flintlock pistol and pulled the trigger.

The shrine's entrance was narrow; the knife-wielders charged out in a straight line, not clustered but aligned—perfect for shooting.

Li Yan had spoken aloud precisely to create this opportunity.

Boom!

Fire roared, smoke scattered.

Li Yan used buckshot; as the gun fired, a storm of tiny pellets engulfed the entire area.

The pellets carried tremendous force—though their impact was dispersed, penetration remained fierce; blood burst from every knife-wielder, front and back.

One shot, and a dozen fell.

Li Yan swiftly reloaded his magazine—but did not fire.

The Wang Fu's men used Divine Fire Guns—long-barreled rifles with incompatible magazines.

Without tools, he dared not disassemble the magazine to reload; his supply was scarce, so he must conserve it.

These men had been pierced through vital organs; though not dead, they were mortally wounded—without spiritual pills, survival was impossible. An extra slash would be waste.

He fired only to eliminate distractions.

The real enemies remained inside the ruined shrine.

Hss~

Inside the shrine, the candles suddenly went dark.

Strange incantations rose from the shadows.

The words were incomprehensible, thick with trilled consonants.

Ancient Witchcraft?

Li Yan frowned, raising his guard.

Incantations carry linguistic evolution.

Ancient barbarian tribes used heavy trills—even ancient Central Plains dialects did, until later speech became clearer.

Many nations still retain heavy trills.

Witchcraft, too, evolved over time.

!.

Ancient witchcraft retained bloody human sacrifice.

So many trills imply a long lineage.

Then, the Gou Die in his chest suddenly grew hot.

Li Yan's eyes lit up; he suddenly leapt backward at high speed and vanished into the nearby dense forest, only then beginning to accept the mission.

He felt a flicker of doubt—though these were Ghost Sect disciples, with the current Gou Die's detection capability, he should have sensed them over a kilometer away.

Yet now, they had suddenly appeared.

What he didn't know was that this group had foolishly provoked the reincarnation of Erlang Zhenjun, nearly shattering the deity's statue.

Their aura had been weak and suppressed, only now activated.

Li Yan didn't have time to ponder further; he swiftly passed through the mist.

Since obtaining the jade fragment, the scenes visible through the Gou Die had multiplied, but they were always the same ones—nothing unusual.

Still that strange space; in the distance, before a faintly visible square table, a figure in a red robe loomed dimly.

Li Yan felt as if shrunk onto a sand table.

The figure loomed abnormally tall, like a Giant Spirit God.

This must be a spirit of the Nether Court; Li Yan dared not reveal any anomaly, feigning ignorance, and hurried to the well.

Indeed, it was the black well's blood water.

This indicated a connection to the escaped demonic aura.

Li Yan couldn't help but feel a touch of disappointment.

Although Divine Gang was more precious, he had already accumulated several in his Gou Die; what he needed now was the Gang Ling, as a last-resort tactic.

But something was better than nothing.

From those in the Huangquan Organization, he learned opportunities to receive Nether Court missions were scarce.

The previous density was only because the Ghost Sect in Ezhou had been highly active.

Now that he was in Shu, there had been no missions for a long time.

Thinking of this, Li Yan immediately studied the black well's blood water.

But at that moment, from the distant space, armor clanked heavily as another massive figure approached, speaking: "Huh? Again this man? What did he find this time?"

Li Yan, who had been observing the black well, instantly stirred.

He recognized that voice.

Back at Xianshan, when he'd found a nest of Nether criminals and reaped great rewards, he'd heard this voice discussing matters—so he'd abandoned numerous Gang Ling rewards to choose the "Five Directions Luo Feng Flag."

To be honest, he now felt cheated.

The "Five Directions Luo Feng Flag" was indeed excellent—it was like gaining five battalions of troops, and unlike other Daoist lineages, it didn't require a fixed sect base, nor did it demand constant training, mustering, chasing demons, capturing and releasing them, draining vast energy each year.

But this treasure had many drawbacks.

For instance, it required prior setup and someone to activate the altar and control it.

His combat style was mostly close-quarters fighting.

Thus, this treasure became a team artifact, typically used with Wang Daoxuan, who activated it while the other controlled it—only then was it effective.

Now he was alone, and battles often erupted suddenly; even if he had the chance to use it simultaneously, he'd still be flustered.

Moreover, this item was highly location-dependent.

Without the massive demonic energy from the Nether Court's underworld to sustain it, the Nether soldiers' combat power dropped sharply; only in places thick with yin-demonic energy could it play a decisive role.

In short, it wasn't convenient to use.

As Li Yan pondered, the two distant figures began speaking.

"Report to the Five Paths General: it's the left guard's demonic aura."

"Hmm. I'll go capture it this time."

Another voice fell silent briefly, then spoke: "General, last time you released the Five Directions Luo Feng Flag, you violated the Nether Code—divine artifacts cannot be privately granted. You are forbidden from returning to the mortal realm."

The Five Paths General?

Li Yan's heart jolted upon hearing this.

This deity might be unknown to ordinary mortals, but in truth, he was a great Nether Court god, tasked with patrolling the mortal world, collecting souls, and binding spirits.

And his rank was not low.

Legends said that though he didn't preside over the Nether Palace, he commanded the hellish ghost soldiers and even oversaw the Nether Court to prevent wrongful judgments.

Though called a General, his authority rivaled that of the King of Hell.

Such a mighty deity…

"Hmph! Ridiculous!"

But the Five Paths General roared: "I haven't appeared in the mortal world for years; my incense offerings have dwindled, my Gang Ling insufficient—I must use alternatives."

"And you—slandering my name! When did I become a bandit, feared like a tiger? Absurd!"

"Do you think Luo Feng Mountain has no one?"

Good heavens—there's more here than meets the eye!

Li Yan's heart raced, but he forced calm.

The Five Paths General was a deity recognized by both Buddhist and Daoist traditions, with great influence among common folk; legends spoke of his compassion for the weak, his aid to star-crossed lovers, and his release of the innocent.

In some regions, his reputation surpassed even that of the King of Hell.

A folk saying went: "Turn your head and meet the Five Paths; open your eyes and see the King of Hell."

Yet in some places, he was seen as an omen of misfortune.

Jin Yuhuan recorded in the "Three Kingdoms Annals": When Cui Jishu had not yet been harmed, his wife dreamed by day of a monstrous figure, one zhang tall, covered in black fur, looming toward her.

The local shaman explained: this was the Five Paths General—his appearance in a home was an ill omen.

Now, some had twisted it into "Five Bandit Generals," transforming one deity into five, altering his origin to claim he was five bandits from Emperor Fei of Song's Yongguang era.

Even more absurdly, rumors now claimed the Five Paths General loved entering dreams to seduce wives and daughters, collecting beautiful female ghosts.

So much so that in the "Golden Lotus," Wang Po warned Ximen Qing: Pan Jinlian was the Five Paths General's daughter—a terrible omen.

A great Nether Court deity had become a lustful demon.

In the past, Li Yan would have dismissed this as folk superstition, but now he knew: mortal worship and offerings could influence the divine realm.

Even Heaven and the Nether Court had undergone transformations.

Even Erlang the Manifest Saint—whether his surname was Yang or Li—was still unclear.

It seemed some force was deliberately smearing his image…

(End of Chapter)