Chapter 564: Kitchen God Festival, Heavy Demon Winds

North Suburb Burial Ground.

It was a taboo in the eyes of Chengdu's common folk.

During the Da Xing era of the previous dynasty, it stood in northern-southern confrontation with the Golden Tent Wolf Nation.

Shu was also a focal point of contention; the Da Xing court established a series of mountain fortresses along the strategic points of the Yangtze, Jialing, Min, and Tuo rivers, historically known as the "Four Yú" and the "Eight Pillars" of eastern Sichuan.

Kuimen Baodi City, Hechuan Diaoyu City, Luzhou Shenbi City, and Wanzhou Tiansheng City were among the most renowned.

Chengdu was close to Diaoyu City, and with Yun Ding City and Huai'an Military City mutually reinforcing each other, they formed a solid defensive line.

Alas, no fortress in the world is unbreakable.

In the final years of Da Xing, the Golden Tent Wolf Nation had already swallowed the highland snow regions and launched troops to threaten, forcing the court to shift its military strength westward for defense.

But a large Golden Tent Wolf army, aided by shamanic ritualists, carved through the Shu Road and advanced directly toward Chengdu from the north.

In dire peril, the southwestern commoners, the Divine Fist Society formed by Sichuan's martial sects, and Emei and Qingcheng, alongside imperial troops, fought for seven days and seven nights, finally holding Chengdu.

Outside the northern city walls, it had become a mountain of corpses and seas of blood.

Unclaimed bodies were everywhere, collected and buried in the northern hills, where Buddhist and Daoist priests performed a hundred-day ritual to pacify the spirits.

Later, when the Maitreya Sect rebelled and plague ravaged Sichuan, many more corpses were buried here, turning the northern hills into a mass grave.

Strange tales about this place were countless.

Of course, most were merely folk rumors, self-induced frights—after all, the City God Temple dispatched its Sheling troops at fixed times each year to sweep and purge the yin and demonic energies of the burial ground.

So the sudden appearance of this mansion was even more eerie.

No ordinary person would build a house here, let alone hang a sign reading "House of Accumulated Virtue"…

Nie San Gu was clearly very familiar with this place; her face darkened as she strode straight toward the mansion.

CRASH!

Before she even drew near, the mansion's main gate burst open.

Inside stood many black-clad men—all grim-faced martial sect members—some hauling goods back and forth, others meticulously mixing gunpowder; all bowed respectfully upon seeing Nie San Gu.

This was precisely the Wang Fu's gunpowder preparation site.

Nie San Gu ignored them and strode into the main hall.

Inside, several pieces of fluorite emitted a dim, You blue glow—clearly, for safety, only this could be used for illumination.

On either side of the main hall's chairs, three sat on the left, two on the right, eyeing each other coldly, clearly divided.

The three on the left: an elderly Tujia man, a Sichuanese man dressed as a boatman, and a black-robed, white-capped lama.

The two on the right both wore opera costumes.

One was tall, with red hair and a blue face, dressed as Zhong Kui.

The other was a woman, clad in mourning attire, pitifully delicate.

Seeing Nie San Gu's disheveled state, the boatman's face darkened. "Senior Nie, did you fail?"

"I underestimated that brat."

Nie San Gu sat directly on the left, pulled a medicinal yuanxiao fragrant with herbs from her bosom, swallowed it whole, and her skin instantly turned red.

"Wu wu~"

The mourning-dressed flower-dan across from her immediately covered her face with her sleeve and wept softly: "Poor Master Hualian and several fellow Daoists… vengeance remains unfulfilled…"

"Girl, stop pretending!"

Nie San Gu's face darkened; her fire-scarred skin twisted. "If not for your recklessness, how could these calamities have arisen!"

Her mood was foul.

The few on her left were all major figures of southwestern dark sects.

The Tujia elder was Ba Dai Zha, nicknamed "Blood Nuo Master"; obsessed with forbidden arts, he had destroyed several Tujia villages and was regarded as a demon by Tujia shamans…

The boatman was Tian Qi Ye, nicknamed "Water Ghost Artisan," from the obscure sect "Hanging Coffin School," who had long terrorized the Yangtze and been hunted for years by orthodox Daoist sects and the imperial court…

The black-robed lama was Duo Ji Zha Xi, from the Black Sect's "Blood Eagle Hidden Treasury" branch, known in the snow regions as a reincarnated demon king…

Together with her, they were the four top experts gathered by the Wang Fu.

"Ghost Hualian" and "Pei Yufang" ranked slightly lower; those sect members and martial folk lured by profit to hunt Li Yan were merely a facade.

These four had reputations too brutal to be seen openly, so they acted secretly under Wang Fu's orders to avoid drawing orthodox sect attention.

The two across from them were from the "Ghost Opera Troupe."

The one dressed as Zhong Kui was Si Tu Qian, heir to a heretical lineage of the opera world—the very man Li Yan had been tasked to kill…

The mourning-dressed flower-dan was Bai Qi Hong, from the northern Sichuan Yin Opera Troupe, skilled in the "Eighteen Night Stage Beats"; even Nie San Gu thought this woman was insane…

Their mutual animosity had good reason.

These southwestern dark sect elders had long been protected by the Wang Fu and had secretly profited for years, growing powerful.

"Ghost Hualian" had done the same, using the Wang Fu as a giant tree to secretly gather resources for the "Ghost Opera Troupe."

After his identity was exposed, Nie San Gu and the others expected the Wang Fu to fly into a rage—but instead, the Wang Fu sent envoys to hire the "Ghost Opera Troupe" to Chengdu with heavy gold.

Nie San Gu and the other three knew: the excuse of insufficient manpower was just that—an excuse. The real intent was to balance their power.

Just like this incident.

Originally, Xu Yongqing was under Nie San Gu's control; she planned to use him as bait, then find a scapegoat to shield the Wang Fu.

But Si Tu Qian and Bai Qi Hong convinced the Wang Fu to let Xu Yongqing help them infiltrate the Cheng family's silver-and-gold shop's secret chamber, then launched a sudden attack, leaving not a single survivor.

Hearing Nie San Gu's accusation, Si Tu Qian, dressed as Zhong Kui, glared coldly. "Old witch, don't speak nonsense!"

Nie San Gu was a senior of the dark sect—she would never swallow her pride; her voice rasped like a night owl. "Don't think we don't know."

"I've confirmed: that old ghost of the Cheng family has a grudge against you. He came to Chengdu specifically for this. The Wang Fu only ordered you to investigate—not to strike!"

"Now look: the Cheng family is alarmed, my bait has escaped, I've made a mess, and now you make us clean it up…"

Nie San Gu had barely escaped death tonight, lost face, and had all her protective talismans destroyed—each word made her angrier.

Now her face was grotesque as a demon, wreathed in black qi.

The two from the "Ghost Opera Troupe" were no less dangerous.

Around Si Tu Qian, the air grew icy; faint rustling sounds emerged, and tiny footprints appeared on the ground…

The mourning-dressed Bai Qi Hong chuckled coldly; her skin turned deathly pale, as if powdered, and blood-tears streamed from her eyes…

"What are you doing?"

At that moment, the silent Ba Dai Zha, smoking his pipe, suddenly spoke, tapped off the ash, and said calmly: "If you want to fight, then settle it now—otherwise, none of you will come out ahead."

At these words, all fell silent.

Even the two from the "Ghost Opera Troupe" reined in their qi.

Among the four southwestern dark sect elders, their cultivation levels varied.

Nie San Gu was infamous, but weaker than the other three; the most feared was unquestionably Ba Dai Zha, followed by Tian Qi Ye and Duo Ji Zha Xi.

Seeing their silence, Ba Dai Zha gave a slight nod and turned to Si Tu Qian. "Master of your troupe, when did you arrive in Chengdu?"

Facing this expressionless old man, Si Tu Qian felt a chill and bowed slightly. "The troupe master sent word: when the Yang family fell, they had already gone to Jiangsu and Zhejiang for other matters."

"Chengdu is under our charge. If we fail, the remaining silver will be fully returned."

"Left?"

Ba Dai Zha's eyes narrowed slightly, but he wasn't surprised.

From his intelligence, the newly formed "Ghost Opera Troupe" was sizable and profit-driven—whomever paid more got their service.

Someone in Jiangsu and Zhejiang must have offered better terms.

As for broken promises, they didn't care.

Of course, they were glad to see it.

Thinking of this, Ba Dai Zha spoke gravely: "This disturbance has been great—orthodox sects must have been alerted. Our priority now is to complete the Wang Fu's great task."

"On the fifteenth of the first lunar month, no slip-ups allowed. Tomorrow is the Kitchen God Festival; the Wang Fu cannot appear in person. Those commandery princes are surely eager to act. You two are unfamiliar faces—enter the Wang Fu to protect him…"

"Tian Qi Ye, Master Duo Ji Zha Xi—the two from the Worship Dragon Sect have left; they've likely turned traitorous. Find them and eliminate them quickly!" Tian Qi Ye's eyes narrowed. "Those two—I can't handle them. This task is impossible."

Ba Dai Zha chuckled hoarsely. "Brother Tian, you jest. I know some of your schemes in the 'Yellow Springs.' Why not lure them out, let them weaken each other?"

Tian Qi Ye said nothing more.

Ba Dai Zha turned to Nie San Gu. "San Gu, you've been seen in Chengdu—you must lie low. Come with me."

Nie San Gu had been planning to rally others to seek revenge and kill Li Yan; hearing this, she bristled. "Where to?"

Ba Dai Zha lit his pipe again and took two puffs.

"The Yang family is destroyed; the Kaihai Sect is mobilizing. Their remnants are being transported toward Chengdu. When they arrive, that's when they'll strike."

"Our peace these past years has been thanks to the Wang Fu's cover. Those remnants cannot reach Chengdu alive!"

………………

Crackling!

Not a single error in content!

Before dawn, firecrackers began to pop.

In the side chamber, Li Yan rose as usual and practiced the Ten Disciplines of the Red Fist.

His rapid advancement stemmed from daily diligent practice, and from using the Great Luo Body to explore the edge of danger.

Right now, like pushing Mount Tai, Thousand Grasps, Sparrow Ground Dragon, Swallow Clutching Mud… the stances were unchanged, long mastered.

But now, Li Yan's entire body trembled; from tendons to skin, a deep rumbling echoed, as if thunder rolled within him.

His skin turned red; sweat rose as white mist.

At this moment, he had fully mastered the Great Cloud Thunder Sound and fused it with the Ten Disciplines, forging a path even his master Li Lady had never imagined.

Such cultivation—if seen by ordinary people—would leave them stunned.

It's literally risking one's life; one misstep and you'll be crippled.

In fact, it's exactly like that.

Each time he pushed his cultivation to the limit, a piercing pain would surge through his body—the sign of fascia tearing apart.

Fortunately, the Great Luo Body repaired it in time.

This state of barely holding on at the edge is the best way to boost one's cultivation.

Now that the Great Luo Body is damaged, it's almost certainly due to his training.

In the courtyard next door, the Bagua Gate disciples were also training: mud-wading steps, circling the pillars in Bagua patterns, striking the iron man… all in full swing.

But soon, they all fell silent, straining to listen.

Boom boom boom~

"Senior brother, is it thundering?"

"It sounds like it's coming from that Li's room…"

Over the past few months, Li Yan had gained considerable fame in the Sichuan martial world.

Though they had come from the capital with Inspector Wang, they'd heard his name; after seeing his youth last night, they couldn't help but feel resentful.

The more resentful they were, the more curious they became.

"What are you all doing?!"

A sharp rebuke rang out. The two Bagua Gate experts from last night walked over, hands behind their backs, eyes sharp, faces grim.

The young disciples immediately bowed their heads and resumed training.

But these two experts listened closely, exchanged glances, and their expressions grew even heavier.

They had seen much in their lives—they knew exactly what this meant.

Yet for a man of Li Yan's age, it was simply unbelievable…

Inside the side room, Li Yan paid no attention to them; after finishing his practice, he sat cross-legged facing east, calming his mind.

The path of cultivation is nothing but following Heaven and emulating Earth.

Balance between movement and stillness, between release and restraint—that is the true way.

When he finished, the night fully faded. Li Yan packed his things and stepped out the door.

The Bagua Gate disciples had already left.

Only one middle-aged man from last night remained stationed at a key spot.

Seeing Li Yan, he hesitated, then spoke: "Brother, today is the Kitchen God Festival—all the stoves have been extinguished. If you're hungry, we have some pastries and tea."

Since the man offered kindness, Li Yan didn't pretend to be aloof; he smiled and bowed: "That's perfect—thank you, Elder."

"No need for thanks."

"I am Li Yan. May I ask…"

"Bagua Gate, Beijing. Dong Cunshan."

"Pleased to meet you. So you're from the famed family—Master Dong's name is known to me like thunder echoing through the heavens…"

"My ancestor is old now and has long withdrawn from the world…"

The two drank tea and ate breakfast, soon falling into easy conversation.

Li Yan was genuinely surprised.

No wonder these Bagua Gate disciples carried themselves with pride—they were from the Dong family of Bagua Gate.

Their ancestral master, Dong Changxing, was one of the Ten Great Masters of Shenzhou.

Inspector Wang must have had strong backing from the Kaihai Sect to secure such guardians.

Both men sought to build ties, and their conversation flowed smoothly.

"Is Master Wang still here? I'd like to take my leave."

"The Master is occupied with official duties—he has already departed."

After explaining, Dong Cunshan's face grew grave: "Young brother, we're outsiders. Though we came to guard, being in the capital means many things are beyond our control—we protect only the Inspector's safety, nothing else."

"Chengdu is thick with demonic energy—be careful."

"No matter how strong the evil wind, righteousness will always triumph!"

"Good! Take care!"

After bidding farewell to Dong Cunshan, Li Yan left immediately.

Outside the Chengdu Prefectural Office, the festive atmosphere hit him like a wave.

In the distance, vendors had set up stalls selling caramelized sugar; steam rose, carrying sweet fragrances through every alley…

Across the street, before a tavern, stalls overflowed with incense and candles—red paper with golden characters reading "Speak Well to the Heavenly King," yellowed images of the Kitchen God, and straw chickens and horses all burning…

Amid the crackling of firecrackers, the shopkeeper and his assistants knelt and bowed.

The twenty-third day of the twelfth lunar month—Kitchen God Festival.

Chengdu had another custom: on this day, people brought their own homemade yuanxiao to give as gifts.

Women on the streets carried food boxes, visiting neighbors; even through the lids, Li Yan could smell the sweet aroma of the yuanxiao.

His mind involuntarily drifted to the old witch from last night.

Red firecracker paper scattered over white snow created a festive scene. Passing a teahouse, he heard a storyteller boasting inside.

"You heard? Last night, the Chief Secretary of the Wang Mansion caught fire?"

"What happened?"

"They say he did too many wicked deeds—angered the Kitchen God, who burned the Xu family to ashes, not a soul left alive."

"Good! May all evil men in this world perish!"

Li Yan shook his head slightly, gazing at Chengdu through the cold mist.

"This year… won't be easy…"

(End of Chapter)