Chapter 498: Nanchong

"Dao Master, Dao Master!"

Seeing Wang Daoxuan stride forward, the man hurried to catch up, face flushed with urgency: "Dao Master, it's already this late—stop playing coy! What's really going on?"

The mission they'd been assigned also involved zombies.

In the nearby mountains lay an abandoned ancient village, said to have been massacred during the Daxing era's north-south standoff, when troops razed the entire settlement.

Nanchong is famed for its citrus, especially at the southern tip of Qinglin Village, where a riverside orchard of ancient trees bears vibrant blossoms despite their gnarled forms—this is one of Nanchong's Eight Scenic Views: "Autumn Colors of the Fruit Mountain."

Yet the laborers sent to work there encountered zombies.

Though no one was injured, the workers fled in terror, and no one dared return to the place.

If this matter isn't resolved, the wealthy merchant will suffer heavy losses.

A wealthy family from town had set their sights on the ancient village, intending to clear an orchard and build a mountain villa, leveraging the Jialing River to ship produce nationwide.

These few demon hunters were no masters; after working once with Wang Daoxuan, they'd stuck by his side as assistants ever since.

But when this job came up, Wang Daoxuan merely glanced at the mountain, then refused outright and turned to leave.

Greedy, they secretly took the job themselves.

From Wang Daoxuan's tone, the man sensed hidden depths—he was now frantic to uncover what had truly happened.

Wang Daoxuan didn't answer directly, but instead gazed at the surrounding mountains and rivers: "Do you know how the fengshui of Nanchong stands?"

"All this nonsense? There's definitely something wrong!"

The man shook his head firmly.

"Wrong!"

Wang Daoxuan said gravely: "This land lies within the northeastern basin, dominated by hills and mountains, encircled by peaks that trap wind and gather qi, with multiple river veins running through—it's an excellent fengshui dragon vein."

The man frowned. "What are you getting at, Dao Master?"

"There's definitely a yangshi site here!"

Wang Daoxuan stroked his beard: "Likely man-made."

"The place you went to—I sensed something off. It faces shadow, the terrain is steep—terrible for planting an orchard."

"The wealthy man who hired you probably knows something."

"Damn it! They set a trap for me!"

The man snapped back to awareness, face dark with rage.

In this trade's code, once paid, you do the job—any risk, life or death, is yours to bear.

But if someone deliberately sets a trap, it's a fight to the death.

"Don't rush."

Wang Daoxuan shook his head slightly: "First, find out the truth."

…

Nanchong County lies beside the Jialing River.

Named after the southern part of Han Chong County, it was renamed Shunqing Prefecture during the Daxing era, then reverted to Nanchong County upon the founding of the Da Xuan dynasty.

As a port city, its commerce naturally flourished.

Buildings here mostly blend bamboo and wood, with whitewashed walls and gray-tiled roofs.

Street-side shops are constructed with wooden beams and panels, linked to form doorways—closed at night, opened by day, displaying a dazzling array of goods.

Vendors shout along the streets; carts jostle through the crowds.

Wang Daoxuan and his two companions arrived at the county seat and went straight to a large courtyard in the eastern quarter, knocking sharply on the iron ring outside the gate.

Creak~

The door opened, revealing a young servant whose face twisted with unease: "Ah, it's you two—what brings you here…?"

The impatient hunter grabbed the servant's collar before he could finish: "Yesterday you were all smiles—today you're blocking us at the door? What are you hiding?"

"Where's your master?!"

The servant struggled frantically but stammered helplessly.

The demon hunter exploded, shoving him aside, striding two steps forward, then spun back and gestured with a sweeping hand: "Dao Master, after you."

Wang Daoxuan chuckled silently, unbothered.

These demon hunters were the lowest tier of the Xuan Gate—decent martial skill, reaching Dark Force, but mediocre cultivation potential; building even one story was their limit.

Mostly they relied on spiritual senses and talismans to do their work.

Though reckless and greedy, they had no malicious intent—he secretly gathered intelligence by using them as cover.

Seeing Wang Daoxuan wasn't angry, the hunter gained confidence, stormed inside, shoved aside any servant who tried to block him, and bellowed: "He! He! Where are you?!"

Two men burst from the main hall—one wielding a blade, the other wearing knuckle dusters—taking defensive stances at the doorway.

"Po Pan Men?"

The demon hunter sneered, planting his silver spear in the ground and rolling up his sleeves: "Come on—let's see what you've got!"

Though he shouted loudly, he knew the rules.

The court's laws were strict now—any sorcerer who killed in broad daylight faced grave trouble.

Even revenge killings had to be done in secret.

"Stop!"

A frail voice came from within the main hall.

Soon, a thin old man in a squire's robe, supported by two maids and leaning on a cane, stepped out slowly.

Seeing them, he sighed: "Master Chen, Daoist Mobile Corps Commander—I apologize for the rudeness. Please, come inside and talk?"

This demon hunter's surname was Chen, his given name Sanbang.

The name alone betrayed his poor origins.

Seeing Chen Sanbang still furious, the old man urged: "Master Chen, with your skill, my He family is but a lamb awaiting slaughter—why rush?"

Chen Sanbang glanced at Wang Daoxuan; seeing him nod, he snorted coldly and followed the old man into the main hall.

Inside, the old man ordered the maids to serve tea, then said: "Go bring the young master."

Soon, servants carried a stretcher into the hall.

The young master was emaciated, his skin gleaming unnaturally oily, unconscious, his breath thick with foul stench.

The old man asked: "Master Chen, was the zombie hard to handle?"

Chen Sanbang sensed something wrong and didn't answer directly: "First, tell us what happened."

"This is a tragic misfortune."

The old man sighed: "My rebellious son neglected his studies at the academy, obsessed instead with ghost stories—he'd rush off to investigate any rumor."

One day, he returned home saying he'd met a fairy, deeply moved by her words, and ordered tea and wine prepared, vowing to visit her again.

I'd long lost faith in him, but our family had no lack of silver—so if a good match came, I thought it might be a blessing, provided we verified her lineage and kept out unsavory types—I sent servants to follow him secretly.

But the boy ran to the wilds, beside an old tea grove, drinking with a creature covered in black fur.

The servants fled in terror, rushed back to summon help; our retainers rode out, torches lit, to rescue him—the creature was struck by flaming arrows and vanished in black smoke.

But my son collapsed immediately, and since returning, he's been bedridden.

That very evening, a Daoist arrived unannounced, claiming my son was bewitched by a powerful black-furred zombie, which would return that night.

True enough—the black-furred zombie appeared again, slipped into my son's room, but we drove it off. The Daoist said this thing was cunning; to destroy it, we must find its lair and set a talisman array to slay it.

But this must not be spoken of, lest the zombie, enraged, kill my son outright.

The Daoist found the location—but then vanished suddenly. With no other choice, I had to hire you.

Fearing the black-furred zombie's retaliation, I made up an excuse and kept it quiet…"

"Foolish!"

Chen Sanbang bristled: "Zombies feed on blood—even if highly cultivated, their goal is to drain life and kill—why drink tea?"

"And black-furred zombies haven't stabilized their yin energy—they sleep underground by day. How could they appear openly, using sorcery to bewitch someone?"

As a demon hunter, he instantly sensed the lie.

"Ah, this…"

Master He was stunned, his expression shifting uncertainly: "Master Chen, are you saying that Daoist lied to me?"

!.

"Then what was that black-furred creature?"

"That thing is called a Mao Gui."

Wang Daoxuan spoke suddenly: "It's a mountain spirit, often born from monkeys, covered in fur of red, white, or black, with three eyes—the vertical eye on its forehead can bewitch and induce illusions."

"It's recorded in the Tong You Ji, Yi Jian Zhi, and Sou Shen Hou Ji—covered in fur, capable of sorcery, but weak in power, fond of eating human and beast hearts, and enjoys haunting homes."

"Yet it can be good or bad—the one in the Sou Shen Hou Ji appeared in a tea grove and even gave people citrus to eat."

"Yes, yes!"

Master He hurried to say: "Every time my son returned, he carried citrus, insisting we eat them!"

"Oh?"

Wang Daoxuan grew interested: "Do you still have the citrus?"

Master He's face darkened: "That Daoist claimed the citrus were bewitched by the black-furred zombie—he opened one right there, and it was full of maggots."

"That was an illusion!"

Chen Sanbang cursed: "The citrus were surely precious—you believed rumors and let someone trick you out of a treasure!"

Wang Daoxuan nodded in agreement.

"Ah~"

Mr. He sighed, "To possess a treasure but not recognize it is my misfortune. Could my son's current state be revenge from that hairy ghost?"

"No, he was harmed by someone!"

Wang Daoxuan shook his Daoist robe and rose to his feet. "Go, find a coffin, and bring several sacks of mixed grains."

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!"

The old man immediately understood and hurriedly urged the servants.

Though the He family wasn't the wealthiest in Nanchong, they were well-off; within less than the time it took to burn a stick of incense, they had brought a coffin and several full sacks of mixed grains.

Wang Daoxuan took out the Luo Pan, walked several circles around the courtyard, then stopped at a shaded spot filled with bamboo. "Right here. Dig three feet deep."

Under his direction, the servants dug a large pit, placed the young master inside the coffin, piled the mixed grains over his body, and buried him underground.

Mr. He watched in terror. "Master, won't he suffocate?"

Wang Daoxuan glanced at him coolly. "That's exactly the point—he must die once."

"What?!"

Mr. He was left dumbfounded.

Seeing the old man couldn't bear the suspense, Wang Daoxuan no longer teased. "Your son was harmed by someone using a yin ghost."

"This kind of yin entity is called 'Er Shu Zi' by common folk, also known as the Gao Huang Ghost. Below the heart lies Gao; beyond the diaphragm lies Huang. To say 'a ghost dwells in the heart, illness has sunk into Gao and Huang' refers to this very thing."

"This entity is extremely hard to remove; one must feign death and use the Five Grains Exorcism to force it out."

With that, he raised his hand and drew a talisman, stepped the Nine Stars, drew forth a coin sword, and plunged it into the earth above the coffin, then began chanting softly.

Soon, a chilling wind howled around them.

This strange wind spun, lifting dust from the ground, swirling wildly around the coin sword as if trying to flee, yet bound fast by the magical blade.

Within a few breaths, the strange wind abruptly ceased.

"Quick, open the coffin!"

At Wang Daoxuan's command, everyone sprang into action.

They lifted the coffin out again, opened it—and saw that all the mixed grains inside had turned black and emitted a foul stench.

They hastily carried the young master out; though he still lay unconscious, the greasy, sickly pallor had vanished from his face, and his breathing had become even and steady.

"Thank you, Master Mobile Corps Commander!"

Mr. He exhaled in relief and bowed deeply.

When he was young, he fell ill while sailing; this was his only son—if he died, the family line would end completely.

"Your family's trouble is gone," Chen Sanbang snorted. "But my brothers are still trapped inside. That Daoist must be behind this. Did he say his name? Leave anything behind?"

"He claimed his Dao name was Zi Yun, but it's likely false."

With his only son saved, Mr. He's mind cleared. He thought for a moment, then said, "He left nothing behind when he departed. But one day, a servant brought hot water and found him worshipping before the Dragon King statue."

As the only son in the family was saved, Master He regained his clarity and, after a moment of thought, said: "He left nothing behind, but one day, when a servant brought hot water, he found the man bowing before the Dragon King statue."

Upon hearing this, Wang Daoxuan's eyes flickered with a faint glow.

Since arriving here, he'd heard whispers, but after searching many places, found no connection to this matter.

After arriving here, he caught faint whispers, but after checking many places, he found no connection to this matter.

"Master, we…"

Chen Sanbang, unaware of his thoughts, looked anxious, eager to beg Wang Daoxuan to go rescue the others.

Wang Daoxuan thought for a moment. "That place is likely fraught with great danger. If you and I go, we might get trapped too."

He turned to Mr. He, stroked his beard, and smiled. "Mr. He, do you wish to seek revenge?"

"That demon harmed my He family—I won't let him go unpunished."

Mr. He nodded, yet his face was full of hesitation. "But that demon's arts are powerful—if he retaliates…"

People are like this: once danger passes, they grow weak.

Especially the He household, with its vast wealth and influence; even after suffering loss, they didn't want to invite more trouble.

Besides, he could see even Wang Daoxuan was cautious, and several demon hunters had already perished—this opponent was no ordinary foe.

Moreover, he could see that even Wang Daoxuan had taken such caution and lost several demon hunters—this opponent was certainly not to be trifled with.

Wang Daoxuan stroked his beard calmly. "The imperial court is already troubled by the corpse plague in Nanchong. We can't go ourselves, but you need only report that you've discovered the source—others will handle it."

Wang Daoxuan stroked his beard calmly and said: "The court is already troubled by the corpse plague in Nanchong. It would be awkward for us to intervene; Master He merely needs to say he discovered the source of the matter, and someone will surely handle it."

As Wang Daoxuan had predicted, when Mr. He reported the matter to the yamen, the county magistrate believed him without doubt and immediately dispatched numerous yamen runners, along with soldiers from the garrison, all armed with firearms.

Demon hunters gathered in Nanchong also rushed to the scene…

(End of Chapter)

(End of chapter)