Chapter 572: Qingyang Palace, Receiving the Jade Emperor

Sichuan customs record: "On the twenty-fifth day, it is said the Heavenly Emperor descends; all people abstain from meat and observe fasting, and no market sells flesh or fish."

Today is the day of receiving the Jade Emperor.

According to the people, after the Kitchen God ascends to heaven, the Jade Emperor descends to the mortal world on the twenty-fifth day of the twelfth lunar month to inspect human virtue and vice, determining fortune and misfortune for the coming year—thus every household offers sacrifices to pray for blessings, called "receiving the Jade Emperor."

In short, one must be cautious in all actions today.

People don't even curse, let alone pick up knives to kill.

So Tian Qi's death was not unjust.

It happened just one day prior.

Today, the snow had lightened somewhat, but had not stopped.

Li Yan lowered his conical hat and turned his head once more.

The Fuhe wharf had regained its bustle.

After speaking with Yang Chenghua, the reincarnation of Erlang Shen, he had tidied the corpse, taken all necessary items, and left only the body behind.

At first light, it was discovered by a passing boatman, who, torch in hand, rushed in panic to report it.

But the first to arrive were the guards of the Wang Fu.

They swiftly removed the corpse, cleaned the scene, lashed the reporting boatman several times with whips, then slipped him some silver.

Only afterward did a few yamen runners amble over, stroll around a few times, issue a warning to the boatman, and depart.

The wharf gradually grew busy, but last night's affair had been concealed.

All of this was watched by Li Yan and his companion.

They did not intervene, merely observed coldly.

Some matters must eventually come to an end.

Yang Chenghua is an unexpected force; Li Yan will not let him reveal himself lightly, for many ancient demons remain hidden this time.

Until the final moment, no one knows who the kingfisher is.

After parting with this reincarnation of Erlang Shen, Li Yan did not hurry back to the city, but detoured toward the Qingyang Palace.

Within Chengdu Prefecture, several xuanmen factions exist.

The Du Men, the Cheng family, and the Confucian school have openly sided with Prince Xiao Jinghong, seeking to elevate him—even willing to oppose the Wang Fu.

The Huangling Sect originally wished to avoid trouble, but had been tricked by the Wang Fu, swallowed their humiliation; now that even the City God Temple has been infiltrated, they have exploded in fury.

Under Ming Shanzi's mediation, they have now joined Xiao Jinghong's side.

Mount Qingcheng feels the same: the Wang Fu has gathered so many evil masters from the southwest; the recent Zheng-Ye conflict at Dujiangyan was tied to them, and the Wang Fu himself may even have been possessed.

Now, Mount Qingcheng can no longer stand idle.

This is the tide of fate.

This is no longer the chaotic end of the Tang; although Chengdu Prefecture teems with demonic paths and thick demonic aura, the orthodox forces are stronger.

As for the Qingyang Palace, it is an exception.

They do not belong to Mount Qingcheng; they are of Laozi's lineage, act with quiet discretion, enjoy high prestige, and host many xuanmen cultivators in seclusion.

Since the beginning of the year, they have held various blessing ceremonies, continuing until the fifteenth or sixteenth of the first lunar month, when the Chengdu lantern festival ends.

At that time, Chengdu will have two focal points.

One is the Qingyang Palace's lantern festival activities.

The other is the martial tournament hosted by the Wang Fu.

If possible, it would be best to gather a large force before matters escalate and seize the Wang Fu, exterminating the horde of demons.

But Li Yan knows this is utterly unrealistic.

The Wang Fu is not only the Emperor's younger brother, holding a unique status, but also commands widespread official support in Sichuan and can mobilize troops.

One misstep could trigger a chain reaction across the entire region.

If mishandled, war would erupt immediately in Sichuan, bringing ruin to countless lives—so every step must be flawless.

According to Liang Yu's intelligence from Mingxiang Pavilion, the Qingyang Palace has also shown anomalies.

Not only does it concern the grand scheme, but the ritual to help the Dragon Maiden gather incense offerings will also take place here—Li Yan must understand what is happening…

………

"Young devotee, kindly make way~"

A hoarse voice rang out; Li Yan quickly stepped aside.

A burden-bearer, an old man, squeezed through the crowd, shouldering a pair of tea baskets.

Li Yan could clearly smell the tea: Laojun tea from Mount Qingcheng—not expensive, but exquisitely packaged, each bundle tied with red silk.

This tea is meant for offerings to the gods.

The people love to follow trends; once someone buys offerings, others follow, lest they feel inwardly guilty.

In truth, even spending a thousand taels brings little benefit—it's merely psychological comfort.

Every year at this time, tea merchants clear out a batch of old stock.

After making way, Li Yan looked up.

As expected, the Qingyang Palace was thronged.

Today, receiving the Jade Emperor, people from Chengdu Prefecture—from high officials to common folk—had come to offer incense and pray.

Outside the mountain gate, beneath the massive black plaque with golden characters reading "Qingyang Palace," a dense sea of heads pressed forward, even blocking the entrance.

The Daoists of the Qingyang Palace seemed long accustomed to this.

They held the gate, calmly letting groups in and out, preventing overcrowding within the palace.

The sky was still early; Li Yan did not rush in.

He narrowed his eyes toward the gate, then formed the Yang Seal.

Outside the Qingyang Palace's mountain gate, to the left stood statues of the Earth God and the Azure Dragon; to the right, the White Tiger, along with the Seven Stars Piles.

On the Seven Stars Piles were carved celestial scripts, arranged according to the layout of the Northern Dipper's seven stars, called the Seven Stars Pile of the Northern Dipper.

Ordinary people sensed nothing, but as a sorcerer, Li Yan clearly smelled incense fumes mingled with righteous qi, enveloping the entire Qingyang Palace.

Li Yan was surprised, and nodded slightly.

In Sichuan, Mount Qingcheng and Mount Emei hold the greatest fame, but in the xuanmen world, some places are no less formidable.

For example, Guangde Temple in Suining is called "The First Zen Grove of the Southwest."

This Qingyang Palace, meanwhile, proclaims itself "The First Daoist Temple of Western Sichuan."

Its history is ancient, founded in the Zhou dynasty.

In Yang Xiong's "Annals of the Kings of Shu," it is recorded: "Laozi, for the Gatekeeper Yin Xi, composed the 'Dao De Jing.' Before parting, he said: 'After a thousand days of walking the Dao, seek me in the Qingyang Market of Chengdu.'"

Three years later, Laozi descended here; Yin Xi arrived as promised, and Laozi manifested his divine form, seated upon a lotus throne, where Yin Xi first heard the Dao.

From then on, the Qingyang Palace's status was established.

During the Tang dynasty, Emperor Xizong fled to Sichuan to escape Huang Chao's rebellion and stationed here.

Inside the temple, he saw a red light like a ball sinking into the ground; digging it up, he found a jade brick inscribed with ancient script: "The Supreme One Pacifies the Calamities of the Middle Harmony," which he took as an auspicious omen.

Whether genuine or contrived, the Qingyang Palace received imperial funding for reconstruction; from then on, it was upgraded from "temple" to "palace," achieving its present scale.

Precisely because of this, the Qingyang Palace holds a unique status.

It engages more in worldly affairs, does not yield to the more flourishing Mount Qingcheng, and maintains close ties with the Wang Fu.

If it too has been infiltrated by the Wang Fu, it would be a serious problem.

Thinking of this, Li Yan lowered his conical hat, used the Dragon-Serpent Token to suppress his aura, then bought incense, candles, and offerings from a nearby stall, pretending to be a pilgrim and blending into the crowd.

After waiting a long time, he finally passed through the mountain gate.

Inside the Qingyang Palace, the crowds were equally dense.

The Qingyang Palace's layout begins with the Three Pure Ones Hall and the Eight Trigrams Pavilion; beyond them lie the Hunyuan Hall, the Doumu Hall, and the Jade Emperor Hall, among others.

Those are the focal points for today's incense offerings.

Pilgrims trampled through snowprints, surging toward the Three Pure Ones Hall.

Salt merchants in silk-lined coats tossed silver ingots into the merit boxes; copper coins clattered against the pine-wood base with dull thuds…

An old woman with a bamboo basket pulled out frozen rice cakes, trembling, and placed them on the altar…

Countless incense sticks burned thickly, their blue smoke rising, veiling the plaque reading "Qingyang's Sacred Realm" in haze. Li Yan first entered the Three Pure Ones Hall to offer incense.

As elsewhere, the incense power within the hall was dense, and the arrangements below completely blocked magical abilities.

Though Li Yan could expel it using his Celestial Official status, the disturbance would be too great, so he merely played the part of an ordinary pilgrim, bowed respectfully, offered incense, and left.

Meanwhile, he remained alert to his surroundings.

Liang Yu's intelligence indicated that the Laozi statue in the Qingyang Palace wept blood—this was an ill omen—but the Daoists inside seemed unaffected…

Li Yan found this strange; after leaving the Three Pure Ones Hall, he followed the crowd through the left corridor and before him appeared another palace.

It was the Hunyuan Hall, primarily dedicated to Hunyuan Patriarch, Laozi.

Li Yan walked with the crowd, but his gaze drifted to the other side.

There stood the Eight Trigrams Pavilion, with double-eaved ridges and swallow-tail finials, surrounded by tortoise-patterned screens and cloud-carved windows, also piled high with offerings, where a crowd of commoners worshipped.

Inside, Laozi rode a blue ox.

Nothing was wrong—every detail was correct!

The statue weeping blood was this one.

Yet Li Yan glanced once, then ignored it.

Though its design was ancient, the statue of Laozi riding the blue ox had been replaced—it could deceive ordinary people, but not him.

Someone inside the Qingyang Palace deliberately suppressed this matter!

Li Yan pondered silently and followed the crowd toward the Hunyuan Hall.

After taking just a few steps, he suddenly twitched his ears, picked up the bamboo basket holding the offerings, and feigned casualness as he walked toward the other side of the hall.

Beneath the corridor pillars and stone platforms, a stone statue of a guardian stood crouched beneath the eaves, its head and shoulders covered in accumulated snow, giving it a somewhat foolish charm.

A child wearing a tiger-head cap pointed at the statue and cried out; a poor scholar in a patched cotton robe quickly covered the child's mouth: "Don't dare offend—it's the Xuanmen's guardian deity."

He then explained: "This guardian was once the commander of the imperial guards who held his halberd to protect the road when Emperor Xizong of Tang fled the chaos."

Li Yan's heart stirred; he feigned curiosity and stepped forward, bowing respectfully: "Sir, may I ask what is the story behind this statue?"

The poor scholar, pleased to be asked, began to show off: "You've come from afar, haven't you? This statue has quite a remarkable tale."

"Back then, when Emperor Xizong was fleeing, a demonic Daoist chased him here—his guards held them off long enough until heavenly thunder struck and killed the demon."

"See that arm?"

"That's the scorch mark from the lightning that struck the demon."

Li Yan looked closely and indeed saw a charred mark on the statue's right arm; though ancient, its color clearly differed from the surrounding stone.

After speaking, the poor scholar bowed and led the child away.

Li Yan, meanwhile, moved closer without drawing attention, his ears twitching slightly.

From within the stone guardian, faint cries echoed:

"Evil spirits, retreat! Retreat!"

Li Yan narrowed his eyes and left without a word.

That evil spirit certainly wasn't referring to him.

The statue, struck by lightning and steeped in incense smoke for centuries, had likely gained sentience and become a mountain gate guardian—but its power was limited, and Daoists could not understand the language of spirits.

What exactly was happening inside the Qingyang Palace…

Li Yan remained composed, joining the crowd to offer incense in turn.

Soon, he arrived outside the Jade Emperor Hall.

Today's Jade Emperor reception had drawn an impenetrable crowd; before the hall, a towering ritual platform had been erected, banners fluttering, incense and candles sending blue smoke curling through the snowstorm.

Dozens of Daoists stood with their backs turned, guarding the area and barring all others from approaching.

A ritual to welcome the Jade Emperor was about to begin; the surrounding crowd waited in anticipation.

Li Yan, basket in hand, blended into the throng and stood beneath the western corridor, looking up to see painted beams depicting Xuantian Shangdi, his hair loose and barefoot, treading upon a tortoise and snake, surrounded by the seventy-two Earthly Fiend Stars.

Exquisite, ancient, imbued with enduring spirit.

It was hard to believe any evil spirit would dare approach.

Dong! Dong! Dong!

Suddenly, three bell tolls rang out, parting the snow-laden air.

A group of elderly Daoists in ritual robes emerged from the Jade Emperor Hall, holding ceremonial tablets and a gilded jade statue of the Jade Emperor, stepping in deliberate, measured paces.

Amid drumming, music, and chanting, they ascended the ritual platform in sequence.

After placing the Jade Emperor statue, they waved the Jade Emperor banners, stepped the Nine Palaces and Seven Stars, recited incantations, and the bronze bells at the banners' ends rang continuously.

The Daoist beside the offering table kept tossing yellow paper tablets into a bronze basin.

The blue smoke curled upward and, despite the wind and snow, coalesced into four large characters: "Wind, Rain, Harmony, and Plenty," then swept over the heads of the crowd.

"Heavenly Lord bestows blessings!"

The wealthy merchants in front, dressed in fine silks, suddenly burst into tears and shouted.

"Heavenly Lord bestows blessings!"

In an instant, the entire courtyard knelt—sheepskin coats, cotton robes, and satin cloaks spreading across the snow like a colorful tapestry.

Li Yan, seeing this, frowned.

This was no divine miracle—it was an illusion created by magical arts.

Ordinary people could not perceive the flow of gangsha energy, so street sorcerers always created elaborate spectacles to avoid being called frauds.

Even he and his companions had done such things.

But the orthodox Xuanmen was different.

Unless absolutely necessary, they had no need for such displays.

The Qingyang Palace had no shortage of incense offerings, nor did it fear ridicule.

With the entire courtyard kneeling, Li Yan, standing tall and unmoved, stood out and drew many glances.

Li Yan's expression remained calm; he turned to leave.

He would not kneel—but he also wished to avoid trouble.

"Li… Shaoxia?"

At that moment, a clear voice came from his left.

A Daoist approached with followers; upon seeing him, he paused in surprise, then smiled warmly: "Li Shaoxia has come to the Qingyang Palace—why didn't you seek me out? Let me properly host you."

Li Yan sighed and turned to bow:

"Greetings, Daoist Yunlingzi."

The man was none other than the Daoist he had met outside Shennongjia, in Longtan Village.

This Daoist had been assigned to suppress the Dragon Girl; he was the one who had told Li Yan about the River God and the Dragon Girl.

After the Shennongjia affair ended and the Dragon Girl ceased her disturbances, he had left Longtan Village and returned to Qingyang Palace to report.

Before departing, he had invited Li Yan to visit Chengdu.

In the past, Li Yan would have visited him immediately upon arrival.

But lately, the more he thought, the more suspicious it became.

The Qingyang Palace, located in Chengdu, had shown such intense interest in a Dragon Girl from a tiny, obscure village in Shennongjia—it could hardly be mere concern for the world.

He kept his tone neither cold nor warm, but Yunlingzi acted as if he noticed nothing, beaming with enthusiasm: "Come, come—my tea is excellent; let me treat you to a taste."

He stepped forward and grasped Li Yan's hand.

It seemed warm—but he squeezed tightly.

Li Yan understood at once and smiled back: "Then I shall trouble you, Daoist."

The two quickly left the courtyard; the drumming, music, and chanting faded behind them.

Soon, they arrived at a small courtyard.

Yunlingzi turned and, with calm expression, instructed the young Daoists: "Go about your duties—I'm meeting an old friend."

"Yes, Master."

The young Daoists bowed and departed.

Yunlingzi led Li Yan into the tea room.

As soon as they entered, he shut the door, his face dark, teeth clenched: "Li Shaoxia—trouble is brewing!"

(End of Chapter)