Chapter 562: Chengdu Prefectural Office

The power of the Duan Chen Dao surprised even Li Yan.

The artifact this old witch used is no ordinary thing.

Those black hairs were left by the yin corpses of women steeped in grievance—intrinsically malevolent objects that, after being refined with secret methods, became as tough as steel wire.

With a single hand seal and flick, they could unleash yin poison to injure.

It could be called a supreme evil treasure.

Countless cultivators had died beneath this Yin Demon duster.

But it Pianpian met the Duan Chen Dao.

This blade itself was forged from a dragon's horn, known as the Dragon-Slaying Blade, and in any cultivation lineage, it was a treasure that suppressed fate and fortune.

When enhanced with thunder arts, its power grew even stronger.

Thus, it shattered the duster outright.

"Boy, you seek death!"

Nie Sangu was furious and enraged.

Seeing her artifact already destroyed, she let go and hurled it like a hidden weapon straight at Li Yan's face.

At the same time, she sharply shook both hands.

On her withered fingers, copper gauntlets extended three feet by the force of her flick, transforming into steel claws.

The old hag did not retreat—she advanced, again using the Ghost Step, crouching low to dodge the blade.

Her left foot stepped on the Kan position, her right leg hooked the Li position, as if treading the Big Dipper's steps, instantly closing the distance to Li Yan while twisting her hand to seize his throat.

What a treacherous move!

Li Yan was startled, sidestepped and shifted his shoulder to evade.

He knew what martial art the old witch was using.

She practiced the Qingcheng Mountain Daoist guardian martial art: Xuanmen Eight Strikes.

This fist style was created in the late Southern Song, when the Jin Khanate's iron cavalry surged southward; Zhang Jixian, the Xu Jing Tian Shi of Qingcheng Mountain, forged it by blending Daoist "Yu Bu Gang Dou" with battlefield combat techniques to protect the Daoist canon.

The art was brutal, famed for "one strike, life or death."

It had the saying: "Eight Strikes, Eight Non-Strikes."

The "Eight Strikes" targeted eight "unarmored vital points": eyes, throat, armpits, ribs, groin, knees, ankles, and Yongquan—corresponding to the eight dead spots of the Daoist "Eight Extraordinary Meridians."

The "Eight Non-Strikes" avoided the back of the head, spine, and other instantly lethal spots, leaving three-tenths of room, in harmony with Daoism's reverence for life.

Even so, it was too vicious, and Qingcheng had banned it.

Li Yan had heard of its reputation and was already cautious, but he never expected such ferocity—or that the old hag's cultivation surpassed his expectations.

At her age, her blood and qi should have withered, her strength depleted.

Yet this old witch's power was even stronger than a young person's, and like him, she had reached the peak of Hua Jing.

With one move, she seized the upper hand.

Seeing Li Yan retreat, the old witch pressed her advantage, striking continuously: first a groin kick, then rolling low like a snake shedding its skin, attacking his lower body.

Each move came faster than the last; Li Yan could only dodge.

What he didn't know was that the old hag was even more astonished.

Her previous move was "Yin-Yang Throat Lock," followed immediately by "Path to the Yellow Springs" and "Earth Dragon Flips."

In life-or-death combat, it's not about the number of techniques.

No matter how clever the variations, nothing beats a single devastating move, three decisive strikes.

Those few moves were Nie Sangu's standard routine—dodge the upper, miss the lower, and once unleashed, it decided life or death.

She had been lying low in Xu's mansion, not rushing to strike, instead forcing Xu Yongqing into madness to search for the ledger, waiting for orders from the Shu Prince before killing.

One, she feared Xu Yongqing had hidden traps.

Two, she didn't want to cause too much commotion.

Yet Li Yan arrived unexpectedly, forcing her to act prematurely.

She had reviewed Li Yan's dossier a month ago and dismissed it, never imagining that in this short time, his cultivation and combat power had risen again.

Seeing Li Yan dodge repeatedly, and hearing voices approaching from afar, Nie Sangu grew anxious.

She twisted her body, her left hand shifting from cloud palm to claw, seizing Li Yan's Jianjing point, while her right hand stabbed toward his armpit's Jiquan point.

This move imitated the Xuanmen "North Star Plucking Hand," called "Heavenly Net Plucking Star," and her copper nails were coated in poison.

Once locked on, Li Yan's upper body would instantly go numb.

But this sudden change gave Li Yan his opening—he stomped her knee as she rose, then unleashed a rapid series of right kicks to her face.

Red Fist: Tiger Stepping the Mountain!

Seeing the massive foot hurtling toward her, Nie Sangu had no choice but to block with both hands.

Boom!

A muffled crash—she slid eight or seven meters, dragging long trails in the snow.

Li Yan pressed his advantage, suddenly lunging low, forming a hand seal, and sharply shaking his left arm.

Clatter!

The copper coins on his left forearm rang out in unison.

Instantly, fierce winds howled, yin poison qi surged together, forming a vortex around Li Yan.

This was the artifact "Qian Nian"—it not only protected body and soul but also rapidly gathered Gangsha qi to amplify spell power.

Though inferior to array formation, it was far quicker.

At the same time, Li Yan formed a hand seal with his left hand, while thunder crackled along the Duan Chen Dao in his right; he lunged forward with a move resembling "Black Tiger Steals Heart," striking straight at the old witch's Shanzhong point.

What a ferocious thunder art!

Nie Sangu trembled, retreating swiftly.

Li Yan's ferocity exceeded her expectations—she feared one misstep, and her decades of dominance would end here.

Realizing this, Nie Sangu decided to retreat.

Facing Li Yan's thunder blade, she leaped back, drew a deep breath, and her chest caved inward like dough.

Barely avoiding the blade by an inch.

Clatter!

Simultaneously, she released a flood of yuanxiao-shaped iron pellets.

Puff! Puff! Puff!

The pellets exploded at once, spewing thick smoke mixed with poisonous insects.

"Get out!"

Li Yan unleashed the Great Cloud Thunder Sound, roaring fiercely.

He used the artifact "Qian Nian" to gather vast amounts of gangsha qi, and this roar also invoked the Northern Emperor's Protective Spell.

Whoosh~

Instantly, fierce winds howled again.

The poison smoke was blown away, the insects rained down like hail.

But in that instant, Nie Sangu's body surged with black mist as she fled swiftly into a distant dark alley.

This old witch had escaped Cheng Jianxian's grasp multiple times—she was no mere pretender.

Li Yan was about to pursue, but his ear twitched—he stopped.

He heard the clatter of armor, the beat of gongs and drums, the flutter of banners, and sensed a vast, overwhelming yin qi approaching from the south.

The City God's temple troops were mobilizing!

"Hmph! Not a moment sooner, not a moment later…"

Li Yan sneered, growing more suspicious of the City God's temple.

But now, he wasn't afraid of these City God troops.

Thinking this, Li Yan reached for his Gou Die.

He held the title of Tian Guan—the City God must yield!

But just then, faint cries came from behind.

"Help!"

It was Xu Yongqing!

Li Yan gritted his teeth and turned away.

The old witch had fled too far—he'd likely never catch her now; Xu Yongqing's situation was more urgent.

Besides, the earlier fight had drawn attention.

Without hesitation, Li Yan pushed off, leaping into the air, clearing the still-burning oil, and returning to the spot.

Xu Yongqing was indeed in trouble.

The old scholar hung in midair, gripping the eaves with both hands.

Above, a window was open; a disheveled fat woman, face flushed with rage, struck him with a rolling pin.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"You bastard!"

"Old shameless fool, still doing this at your age!"

Xu Yongqing took several solid blows, wailing, then his hands slipped—he tumbled down from the second floor.

As he panicked, Li Yan arrived, wrapped his left arm around him, seized his shoulder, and used the "Immortal Seal Technique" to dissipate the force, effortlessly pulling him to safety. "No talking—go!"

Seeing Xu Yongqing about to speak, Li Yan hushed him Disheng, then dragged him into a nearby dark alley…

Huh~

Not long after they left, a chilling wind surged through the street.

Snow and wind raged; the burning oil instantly extinguished, plunging the surroundings into darkness, while countless footprints appeared on the snow.

They were the City God's spirit troops.

Several households nearby, their soul-stealing banners shattered, had been possessed by escaped vengeful spirits—some leapt onto rafters, others' eyes turned blood-red, knives in hand, ready to harm their families.

But as the spirit troops passed, black smoke erupted from their bodies, then they were yanked away by an invisible force, twisted into the snowstorm…

…………

In the darkness, footsteps and gasps intertwined.

Li Yan moved at blazing speed; Xu Yongqing, dragged along, panted desperately, utterly exhausted.

Yet Li Yan had no time to stop.

Not a single word, not a single syllable, not a single detail missed!

As he sprinted, he used his spiritual powers to evade pursuers.

The disturbance had alerted not only the City God Temple, but others as well.

"Hurry, search this way!"

A squad of garrison soldiers passed down the street, torches in hand.

Li Yan glanced through the alley, and as they passed, swiftly crossed the street and turned into the next dark alley.

The Chengdu Prefectural Office lay in the west city.

The Censor had seized control of the office, but to reach it, they must pass through at least eighteen alleys.

Just as they emerged from a few alleys, Li Yan suddenly yanked Xu Yongqing to a halt, clamping a hand over his mouth, signaling silence.

At the same time, he activated a concealment technique to suppress his aura.

Tap-tap-tap!

On the opposite street, a troop of riders galloped past.

Each rider wore black armor, rode powerful black horses, their cloaks fluttering, revealing the divine fire-guns slung behind them.

They were the gunners cultivated by the Prince of Shu.

Several fierce dogs followed beside them; had Li Yan not reacted swiftly, they would have been discovered immediately.

Only after the riders passed did Li Yan release Xu Yongqing.

"Those are the Prince's Black Feather Guard!"

Xu Yongqing suddenly spoke, gritting his teeth: "The Prince's household guards are called the 'Imperial Guard Bureau,' but the Prince secretly established the Black Feather Guard, all equipped with new firearms, and has murdered several merchants to hide gunpowder mines."

Li Yan frowned slightly. "You remember all this?"

"It's all in the ledgers…"

Xu Yongqing nodded, then suddenly stared into the distance, eyes wide, body trembling, veins slowly filling with blood.

Li Yan looked up as well.

It was the direction they had come from—now blazing with fire, illuminating the night. Without doubt, it was the Xu residence.

He couldn't save everyone. He'd planned to take Xu Yongqing, hoping the others might survive—but they'd been silenced outright.

"Go. Preserve your life to seek revenge."

Li Yan spoke, then dragged Xu Yongqing onward.

Besides the patrolling garrison soldiers and the Prince's Black Feather Guard, Li Yan sensed distant rooftops crackling with breaking-air sounds—clearly, elite assassins had come to intercept them.

But these men were clearly far inferior to Nie Sangu.

Li Yan merely hooked his left hand; a straw spirit doll, charged with malevolent qi, darted swiftly through the air, easily luring them away.

Finally, they reached the west city.

The Chengdu Prefectural Office drew nearer.

And behind them, the pursuers had finally locked onto them.

Breaking-air sounds echoed from rooftops.

Distant hoofbeats clattered from the streets behind.

Li Yan gritted his teeth and surged forward, dragging Xu Yongqing with renewed speed.

He saw this clearly.

The Prince of Shu was feigning illness—perhaps hiding some conspiracy. After all, they were blood kin; if taken to the Commandery Prince's mansion, Xiao Jinghong might hand them over directly.

The best solution was to deliver them to the Censor.

The hoofbeats behind grew faster.

The Chengdu Prefectural Office came into view—its towering gate flanked by stone lions, radiating an aura of authority, also protective talismans.

In the snowstorm, giant red lanterns swayed.

"Up!"

Seeing the pursuers closing in, Li Yan had no time to hesitate—he shoved Xu Yongqing's waist, hurling him high over the courtyard wall.

Li Yan himself leapt up in three swift bounds.

Crouching atop the wall, he turned to look back.

On the opposite street, black horses halted abruptly; the armored riders, faces masked, raised their divine fire-guns with a clatter.

On nearby rooftops, a dozen dark shadows emerged.

All of them stopped, staring coldly at Li Yan.

"Hmph!"

Li Yan sneered, made a throat-slitting gesture toward them, then flipped down.

Xu Yongqing lay sprawled in the snow, his bruised face swollen and black, groaning, unable to rise.

This snow-lit escape nearly killed him.

Li Yan was about to pull him up when he frowned, glancing around.

This was a side courtyard of the Prefectural Office—evidently a storage depot.

From the darkness, eight gray-clad men stepped forward.

Most were middle-aged, eyes cold, unarmed.

At the same time, lanterns flickered to life all around.

By the firelight, Li Yan studied their palms—and his pupils contracted. "Tangni marks. Are you all from the Bagua Sect?"

"Tangni marks" were a distinctive imprint.

Common among practitioners of Bagua Palm and Xingyi Quan.

They trained "Tangni steps," bending knees, sinking hips, dragging feet along the ground as if wading through mud.

After thousands of repetitions, the outer edges of their soles hardened into thick calluses—this was called "foot tangni marks."

Among them, Bagua Palm emphasized "turning and shifting palms," and when combined with tangni steps and coiling palm motions, prolonged qi and blood flow thickened the calluses at the heel and tiger's mouth, forming "palm tangni marks."

Bagua Palm was deadly; those who cultivated "tangni marks" were marked—ordinary martial artists would avoid them at all costs.

Hearing Li Yan's question, the men ignored him.

"Kan position!"

The lead man barked; the eight instantly circled into formation.

Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—the wind hissed as their figures flickered, surrounding Li Yan and Xu Yongqing.

Li Yan frowned. "Gentlemen, we have urgent business…"

He had no desire to fight them.

These eight were Bagua Sect elites—though inferior to him, they had reached the peak of Hidden Force. Combined with the Bagua Array, they were extremely troublesome.

Worse, on distant rooftops, two gunners had appeared, divine fire-guns aimed at them.

To break this deadlock, he could only use spiritual arts.

"Enough. Stop!"

At that moment, a stern voice rang from afar.

A crimson robe swept across stone steps; surrounded by several Battalion Commandants, the figure emerged through the archway.

His skin was slightly dark, his face square and imposing, with a long beard.

The xiezhi beast on his robe, in the firelight, looked as fierce as if alive.

The elder of the Bagua Sect immediately turned and bowed. "Magistrate Wang, this man broke into the Prefectural Office—please…"

"No need to be wary."

The Censor looked at the disheveled Xu Yongqing, a flicker of delight in his eyes. "These two are my honored guests!"

(End of Chapter)