Chapter 496: The Legend of the Headless Mountain

This Five Roads General was indeed unlucky.

Li Yan had seen several Five Roads temples, some places calling them "Five Roads Elder," with only one statue, clad in golden armor, holding a long spear and seated solemnly.

In other places, there were five statues, several with blue faces and fanged mouths, looking fierce and terrifying.

This matter was beyond remedy.

Building temples and shrines was often done spontaneously by common folk, merchants donating money, burning incense and making offerings to ensure local safety.

But when commoners built temples, they rarely paid close attention to details.

The same deity's statue varied from place to place, tied to local folk tales; if stories were heard often enough, people would mold the statue according to their own imaginations.

"Five Roads" refers to the Dao of Heaven, the Dao of Humans, the Dao of Hell, the Dao of Hungry Ghosts, and the Dao of Beasts—but somehow, over time, it became misheard as "Five Thieves."

They even went so far as to find historical prototypes.

It seems even becoming a god isn't as carefree as it seems…

Their conversation revealed much information:

The Gang Ling is connected to incense offerings!

Within the Nether Court, there seemed to be several factions.

And that "Five Directions Luo Feng Flag"—the Heavenly Code forbade it from entering the mortal realm—was clearly more complicated, hiding some secret…

As Li Yan pondered, the unknown Nether Court deity spoke: "General, please wait a moment. Let me handle this first, lest I delay and violate Nether Law."

With that, he hurled a scroll into the air.

The black well's blood before Li Yan spun rapidly, rising to reveal a yellow silk scroll detailing the demonic god's aura and identity.

This demonic god was not recorded in the Long Life Immortal Grotto.

His name was Zuo Shouquan, once a fierce warrior of an ancient tribe, cruel and violent; after death, he was worshipped by his tribe's people, his essence becoming the local mountain god—but his bloodlust and killing spree eventually turned him into a demon god.

He resembled a wild beast, one hand holding a knife, the other gripping a severed head, his roars like a mountain tiger; anyone unlucky enough to encounter him would die without fail.

This demon god possessed a unique ability.

Like a tiger demon, he could summon soul slaves.

The heretical technique passed down was called the Severed Head Long Life Art; worshippers were marked with a bloodstain on their necks, granted the ability to use heretical spells and curses, and could sustain life by absorbing human blood.

But periodically, they would lose their sense of self.

They would place their own heads before the demon god's statue.

Their bodies could still move freely, but were enslaved by the demon god, roaming to spread havoc, capturing people to drain their blood.

The ancient Fei Tou Liao clan was connected to this demon god.

So the Shu region's "Severed Head" legend originated from this…

After reading the information, Li Yan turned and left.

First, to save time—there was still a battle outside.

Second, the two deities remained silent, watching him; if he stayed longer, he risked revealing his disguise.

The jade pendant left by Yin Changsheng was a method of stealing heavenly secrets.

He had no desire to be branded a Nether criminal.

After his figure vanished, two voices resumed.

"Five Roads General, this man has some talent, but you'd best not interfere—the Five Directions Luo Feng Flags you sent out will likely be wasted."

"I know. The Thunder Mansion is also watching him. What do they intend?"

"I don't know."

"The mortal world is changing; the Dharma realm may not escape turmoil either…"

…

In the dense forest, Li Yan suddenly opened his eyes.

He pulled out his pocket watch—it had been less than a few seconds.

Yet in that brief time, the ruined temple had changed again.

Inside, dark winds howled, and green sparks flickered.

Hoo~

With the gale, a stench of blood drifted out.

Shhh shhh shhh!

Li Yan's earlier spear had pierced the internal organs of many knife-wielders; though not dead, they'd lost combat capability, their breaths growing fainter.

As the foul wind blew, they suddenly opened their eyes, rising stiffly like zombies, pupils glowing with eerie green light.

Their wounds still bled, yet they felt nothing, eyes cold and filled with murderous intent, gripping their knives and charging again.

Their movements were strange—rigid, yet their strength had greatly increased; their footwork propelled them faster than before.

Puppetry technique!

Seeing this, Li Yan immediately guessed its nature.

Such techniques could control not only inanimate puppets but living humans; these knife-wielders had likely been altered beforehand, making them easier to control and more potent.

Clang!

In an instant, two knife-wielders lunged at him.

Blade light flashed, slashing left and right toward Li Yan.

Li Yan showed no fear, raising Dunchen Dao—CLANG! Sparks flew as he spun his body, shifting his stance, left hand hidden beneath his leaf, sliding under the second knife-wielder's armpit and striking sharply.

Crack!

The sound of shattered ribs echoed; the knife-wielder flew backward, crashing into the blade of the man behind him.

Li Yan swept his blade upward—the other knife-wielder, whose weapon had been deflected, was gutted open, intestines and flesh spilling onto the ground.

His stomach was ruptured, spilling onto the earth.

Inside lay a small cloth pouch containing paper talismans, human bones, and hair.

Li Yan didn't glance at it, continuing to swing his blade.

Once turned into puppets, these knife-wielders grew stronger in strength and speed, but their techniques became rigid, riddled with openings.

Even if they were still alive, their martial skill wouldn't have been enough against Li Yan.

Shadows darted, blades flashed.

Li Yan moved between the blades as if strolling through a garden, seemingly perilous, yet entirely in control.

Those who had trained him were Zhang Xiaoshan and Wu Qu—both from renowned lineages, martial geniuses.

With higher perspective, one naturally sees differently.

Li Yan paid them no mind.

They were mere puppets; the real threat remained inside the temple.

Hoo~

Indeed, dark winds howled again; several black shadows shot out, flying through the air, laughing with eerie, mocking cackles.

Thick fog rolled in, dimming vision.

Li Yan's sense of smell detected that these shadows were severed heads, hair disheveled, faces pale, the stumps wrapped in black smoke.

Their eyes glowed green, flying through the air with terrifying speed.

Their laughter carried a sinister power, like demonic sound piercing the ears, stirring restlessness, nausea, and disrupted qi flow.

One severed head suddenly opened its mouth and spat a jet of black mist, hurtling straight at Li Yan.

It was a spell, similar to the Hidden Sand Shooting Shadow technique.

And Li Yan had been waiting for exactly this.

He suddenly exploded forward, breaking through the encirclement and charging into the temple.

According to the Nether Court's information, this Flying Head technique was cunning and swift; even if the heads were shattered, they'd still transform into headless undead monsters to continue their havoc.

Their weakness lay in their bodies!

"Ahh—!"

Piercing shrieks echoed as severed heads chased after him.

They all spat black mist, trying to stop Li Yan.

When Li Yan reached the temple entrance, he didn't look back, pulling out a copper tube and pressing the trigger.

It was a trophy taken from the old Daoist Tan Wanpei.

It resembled the Rain of Pearls Needle in the martial world—a mechanical device that could fire nearly a hundred poisoned needles at once, covering a vast area.

For him, it was inferior to his firearm, but superior in stealth and quietness. Shhh shhh shhh!

The sound of poisoned needles piercing the air rang out.

The pursuing heads were struck, covered in needles like hedgehogs; wounds blackened and hardened rapidly, poison causing them to shriek in agony.

Li Yan had already entered the temple.

On the ground lay several bodies neatly arranged.

Puch! Puch!

His blade fell, piercing the hearts of the headless corpses.

"Ahh—!"

Each strike echoed outside with screams and the thud of falling heads.

The puppets lost control and collapsed.

Soon, the area fell utterly silent.

Li Yan did not kill them all, but left one corpse, pressing the Du Chen Dao against its chest, and spoke calmly toward the temple entrance: "Come in!"

!.

Huh~

A cold wind stirred, and a human head drifted slowly inside.

Though his face was ashen, it was still clear he was a young man with refined features, his eyes filled with terror.

It was Du Yuan Guang, a disciple of the Du family.

At this moment, Du Yuan Guang was filled with profound regret.

With this dark art, they sacrificed humans to the demon god, stirred up chaos in one region, and amassed great wealth—inevitably growing arrogant.

So what if their Dao arts were high?

Even the orthodox sects needed incense money.

So what if the court had rules?

In the eyes of those officials, personal connections outweighed rules.

As long as the deeds were hidden, nothing would happen.

Who could have imagined they'd angered such a killing god?

"Speak."

Li Yan asked coldly: "When did your Du family begin worshipping and sacrificing to Zuo Shouquan?"

Upon hearing this, Du Yuan Guang's eyes flickered.

Zuo Shouquan's name was the Du family's greatest secret—how could this killing god know it?

And he even knew their greatest weakness!

Li Yan's gaze turned slightly colder; he pressed his wrist, and the Du Chen Dao sliced through Du Yuan Guang's chest—without penetrating deeper.

"No, no, I'll talk!"

The fear of death made Du Yuan Guang beg frantically: "Our ancestors lived in a deep mountain near Neijiang, in a village called Shilong Village."

"Since ancient times, the village has told tales of headless men, but few have seen them, and most dismissed it as legend."

"When the Da Xing Dynasty fell and the Xuan Dynasty was founded, cities were being built across the land, requiring vast amounts of stone. My Du family, being the wealthiest in the village, led the villagers to quarry stone from nearby mountains."

"The village was named Shilong because nearby hillsides exposed rocks naturally covered in dragon scales, incredibly hard."

"Legend said these were signs of a dragon vein, protecting the village's peace—but the village remained poor, so no one took it seriously, and they simply blasted open the mountain."

"That day, the mountain collapsed, killing many. To calm the people, my ancestors hired a yangxi troupe to exorcise evil and suppress calamities."

"But that night, the entire troupe vanished without a trace."

"Soon after, people claimed to hear singing from the old stage at midnight, and others swore they saw a headless man near it—families fled, and the village was abandoned."

"One of my ancestors fell gravely ill after that incident. When he awoke, he taught the ritual to worship Zuo Shouquan."

"At the time, the Du family was destitute, exiled from home, and bullied by others—so they used this method to kill and amass wealth, gradually rising in power…"

Listening to his account, Li Yan vaguely pieced together the cause.

Zuo Shouquan's true form was a mountain spirit; likely, a demonic qi had been buried beneath the mountain, able to cause mischief only occasionally—but the Du family's quarrying had freed it completely.

"What do you secretly send people to do?"

Thinking of this, Li Yan continued.

Du Yuan Guang hesitated again, his eyes darting nervously as he begged: "If I tell you, will you spare my life?"

Li Yan replied coolly: "If you obey, I won't kill you."

Hearing this, Du Yuan Guang didn't fully believe him.

But the situation was dire—refusing meant immediate death—and given Li Yan's reputation for keeping his word, he had no choice but to gamble.

"Every year on the fifth day of the fifth month, by tradition, the Du family must perform a human sacrifice: kill fifty people, place their heads inside a bronze cauldron in the mountains, and pile their hearts and livers outside."

"If we don't, we die ourselves—we'll be compelled to go into the mountains, tear off our own heads, and place them in the cauldron."

"Are there guards there?"

"No. There are many headless ones in the mountains—accumulated over years, appearing and disappearing without warning. No one knows where they hide. Even we who enter the mountains never return alive."

"Who ordered you to harm me?"

"The Ghost Sect. I don't know who exactly—it's only the clan chief who's met them. We only know they send a large shipment of silver to Xiangxi every year."

Hearing this, Li Yan fell into thought.

As he suspected, the Ghost Sect's main strength wasn't in Shu—likely, they were still aiding the Yang family of Bozhou in opposing the court.

Hence, they resorted to these underhanded tactics against him.

At that moment, Li Yan suddenly felt something stir within him. He sheathed his blade and strode out of the temple.

Du Yuan Guang saw this and hurriedly sent his head flying toward his body; black mist surged at his neck, slowly reconnecting.

Outside the temple, on the open ground, Li Yan gazed at the night sky.

Whoosh!

The sound of flapping wings rose as Ying Sun landed, dusted with frost and wind, weary, squawking frantically at him.

Li Yan chuckled softly: "Something came up—I couldn't help it."

During this period of divided operations, the falcon had suffered the most.

Every fixed interval, it had to shuttle between three locations, delivering intelligence.

They'd agreed that upon reaching a destination, they'd tie colored ribbons or burn smoke signals on mountain peaks so the falcon could find them.

Sha Li Fei and Wang Dao Xuan's sides were easy enough.

But Li Yan's own route involved constant travel, frequent battles, and hiding his presence—he never had time to send signals, forcing the falcon to search for two days.

After reading the secret message, Li Yan fell into thought, then immediately picked up his brush and ink, wrote his own intelligence, and tied the bronze tube to the falcon's claw.

Soon, the falcon spread its wings and vanished into the night sky.

Li Yan turned and returned to the temple.

"Let's go."

Looking at the bewildered Du Yuan Guang, Li Yan spoke gravely.

"W-where to?"

"Shilong Village. Headless Mountain!"

…………

Near the Dazu Rock Carvings, in a bamboo grove halfway up the slope.

The Yu family father and son were roasting tea.

The process of making tea usually involves withering, killing the green, rolling, re-roasting, and drying—different techniques and styles produce teas with distinct flavors and grades.

Especially this spirit tea—the process is even more intricate.

The Yu family father and son worked from dawn till dusk, yet found joy in it.

After all, the secret of the Tea Immortal was the foundation of their future survival; mastering this craft early would build valuable experience.

Inside the nearby thatched hut, Lu San watched Sha Li Fei, his eyes filled with concern: "Last night, you dreamed again?"

"Mm."

Sha Li Fei's lips were pale, still trembling, muttering: "I'm no sorcerer—how could I possibly dream of a charnel ground? It's those old monks who cursed me!"

(End of Chapter)