Chapter 580: The Peril of the Prefectural Office

"Tonight?"

Li Yan frowned slightly at these words.

Wang Yushi acted very wisely.

By threatening with gunpowder, combined with the Bagua Gate from the capital and his elite subordinates, he forced the Shu Prince to hesitate.

Li Yan sensed again that the Shu Prince's concern was not merely this batch of gunpowder, but the panic a massive explosion would ignite in Chengdu, ruining the plans for the Lantern Festival.

Choosing to act tonight must mean they have made thorough preparations.

Likely, the other side will send their top enforcers.

Thinking this, Li Yan no longer hesitated and spoke directly: "Elder, I need to enter the Chengdu Prefectural Office—can you devise a way?"

All of this is merely the old man's side of the story.

But the situation is urgent; we must take the gamble.

Feng Laohai did not hesitate, bowing to those around him: "Since Li Shaoxia has spoken, this old man would die ten times over—only I beg one thing: when the chaos settles, plead for mercy on behalf of the old and young of Baixi Town."

"We are all helpless."

Old trickster…

Li Yan silently scoffed, then said: "Agreed."

Soon after, Feng Laohai strolled out again, hands behind his back, inspecting the street as if he had nothing better to do.

As he walked, he drifted to the wall at the edge of the Prefectural Office.

"Elder Feng, what do you want?"

A Battalion Commander approached, face cold.

Feng Laohai held high status in the Salt Guild; all martial artists treated him with utmost respect, yet he always remained wary, looking down on these unorthodox types.

Feng Laohai felt a sudden weight on his shoulder, quickly released his stance, stood motionless, drew his pipe, and feigned curiosity: "I'm merely puzzled."

"The Bagua Gate isn't a minor sect—Master Dong Changxing of the capital is revered across the land; who wouldn't give him face? If they wish to leave, surely the Prince won't stop them—why would they stay here to die?"

"Hmph!"

The Battalion Commander sneered: "What master? Just Jianghu gossip. When the army advances, not a blade of grass survives—even he would have to bow and retreat!"

"Tsk tsk…"

Feng Laohai chuckled silently, shook his head with hands behind his back, and muttered: "Ah~ The martial world has grown too peaceful; everyone's forgotten the prestige of a Master. Back then, even the northern frontier armies wouldn't dare say such things…"

"Pfft!"

The Battalion Commander glanced dismissively, then returned to the checkpoint, watching the musketeers and sneering: "Brothers, stay alert—let them know the world has changed!"

Never mind these people's hidden schemes.

With Feng Laohai's help, Li Yan slipped silently into the Chengdu Prefectural Office. After landing, he surveyed his surroundings.

He had been here before; he knew it well.

The current defenses had clearly been upgraded significantly.

Key areas were all fortified with traps, guarded by yamen runners, Bagua Gate disciples, and elite followers of Wang Yushi, patrolling everywhere.

Oo~

In the distance, several fierce hounds bared their fangs.

These beasts were no ordinary animals; though they could not see Li Yan, they sensed a threat and crouched low toward him.

"Who's there?!"

A figure leapt twice, like a dragonfly skimming water, arriving swiftly while drawing twin sabers, radiating fierce energy.

"Brother Dong, it's me!"

Before he could strike, a low voice echoed through the air.

The newcomer was Dong Cunshan of the Bagua Gate.

Dong Cunshan's eyes lit up, but before he could speak, Li Yan's voice came again: "Brother Dong, find a secluded place."

Dong Cunshan understood at once, dismissed the approaching disciple, walked ahead on his own, heading toward the side courtyard where Li Yan had once stayed.

He appeared expressionless, but inwardly was stunned.

Since arriving in Shu, he'd heard nothing but Li Yan's martial reputation, yet he'd only seen his brutal combat style—he never imagined his magical arts were this refined.

Daylight concealment—could this be the Laoshan invisibility technique…?

As for whether Li Yan harbored ill intent, he did not doubt it.

Li Yan was already a marked man, wanted dead by the Shu Prince.

Arriving at a side chamber, Dong Cunshan deliberately waited a moment before turning to lock the door.

Before he could speak, mist rose within the room, revealing Li Yan's form, who bowed: "Greetings, Brother Dong."

"Li Shaoxia, no need for formalities."

After brief pleasantries, Li Yan stated his purpose: "I have urgent business and wish to meet the Yushi. Is that possible?"

"Yes, I'll inform the Yushi first."

"Keep it secret—the office may have spies."

"Understood!"

Before long, Dong Cunshan hurried back, handed Li Yan a black cloak to conceal his entire body, and led him to the back courtyard.

This was the gunpowder storage depot.

Originally managed by officials from the Ministry of Works, it had now been taken over by Wang Yushi, surrounded by three layers of defense.

Everyone's expression was tense.

Dong Cunshan presented his token; after inspection, he entered the small courtyard outside the depot.

There sat Wang Yushi before a stone table, pouring himself wine. Snow blanketed the ground, red plum blossoms clung to branches; though weary, he remained calm and composed.

"Li Shaoxia has arrived—have a drink."

Seeing Li Yan enter, he poured wine himself, smiling and shaking his head: "I'd have brewed tea, but fire is too risky here. A little wine to ward off the cold is fine."

"Your lordship has refined tastes."

Li Yan sat down boldly, drained his cup in one gulp.

"Refined tastes? Not at all."

Wang Yushi sighed, grimacing: "I miscalculated—I never thought the Shu Prince would truly rebel. Fortunately, there are still righteous souls in the city. Li Shaoxia braved danger to come—what advice do you bring?"

Old fox—he's sharp indeed…

Li Yan nodded slightly: "Your lordship need not blame yourself. This matter has deeper roots—the Shu Prince has likely been possessed by a demon."

"Oh?"

Wang Yushi frowned. "Certain?"

Li Yan briefly recounted the situation, then bowed: "Forgive me, Your Lordship—I cannot be certain. I withhold nothing out of malice, but ordinary people would find it unbelievable."

He spoke truly.

Had the Shu Prince not moved, even if Li Yan revealed this, few would believe him—and it might alert Lu Sheng to prepare early.

Wang Yushi said nothing more on the matter, fell silent for a moment, then asked: "Whether the Shu Prince is possessed or not, we cannot sit idle. Li Shaoxia—do you have a plan?"

"I do."

Li Yan said gravely: "To be frank, I infiltrated the Shu Prince's palace and saw the Grand Prince controlled by a curse from the Ghost Opera troupe. Most of the Battalion Commanders are likely similarly ensnared."

"If we find the chance to gather them, break the soul-binding spell, we can reclaim military control."

He glanced around, frowning: "Originally, I planned to use your lordship's authority to lure them here—but now, we must find another way."

Wang Yushi's expression darkened slightly, thinking: "There is one opportunity—on the last day of the year, the army holds a grand sacrifice. Even if these commanders are bewitched, they must attend to calm the troops."

"We'll discuss this later."

Li Yan looked around, speaking gravely: "I received word—the Shu Prince's palace will strike tonight. Time is short—we should break out now."

Wang Yushi's wine cup trembled; he shook his head: "Li Shaoxia, your information may be wrong. I am here to guard this place—if the Shu Prince dares to move, the entire gunpowder depot will explode…"

"That won't save you!"

Li Yan said gravely: "The Shu Prince has several top experts. When they set up their array, you may not even get the chance to ignite it."

Wang Yushi grew displeased, glancing aside. The door opposite slowly opened, revealing an old Daoist in dark blue robes, white beard hanging to his chest, radiating formidable aura.

Li Yan was unsurprised.

He had sensed this man the moment he entered the courtyard—he was likely Wang Yushi's hidden Daoist protector.

Beside him, Dong Cunshan quickly introduced: "Li Shaoxia, this is Daoist Liuyun of the White Cloud Temple in the capital—his cultivation is profound. Like me, he came at someone's request."

Wang Yushi turned to the old Daoist: "Daoist Liuyun, what do you think?"

The old Daoist did not give a direct answer but looked at Li Yan: "Young friend, do you know which demons are coming?"

Li Yan replied: "The Shu Prince hired experts from the Ghost Opera troupe, along with several demonic cultivators from the southwestern heretical sects: Nie Sanggu, Xue Nuo Master Ba Daiza, and the Black Sect Lama Duoji Zaxi."

"Oh?"

The old Daoist chuckled in disbelief: "Those old devils are still alive? Back then, Master Cheng Jianxian chased them to the ends of heaven and earth—now they've come to cause trouble again."

Wang Yushi hurriedly asked: "Daoist, can you handle them?"

The old Daoist stroked his beard: "With their abilities, they cannot enter."

One mistake! One slip! One error in content!

Li Yan frowned: "Still, caution is wise."

"Li Shaoxia, stop."

Wang Yushi shook his head: "Chengdu is now under the Shu Prince's army. Even if we escape, where can we hide?"

"Besides, without this gunpowder, those Black Feather troops will fire en masse—we'll be dead anyway!"

What he said wasn't wrong.

Li Yan frowned but said no more.

Baiyun Temple was also a famous temple in the capital, linked to the imperial family—perhaps it had the power to hold them off.

Leaving rashly would be even more dangerous.

But he couldn't shake a strange unease in his heart.

Wang Yushi, seeing this, stroked his beard and said, "I have my own plan for this matter. Only three days remain until the thirtieth of the lunar month. If we can hold out until then, things will turn."

"To be honest, I've placed agents within the garrisons. When the time comes, I can arrange for someone to infiltrate—but I don't know if the curse can be undone."

Li Yan remembered the white-robed Bodhisattva bead strand in Sha Lifei's hand and nodded. "As long as we buy time, it should be fine."

"Good!"

Wang Yushi smiled. "The Shu Prince's only strength now lies in his garrison troops. Once we reclaim military command, we can crush the rebellion, storm the Shu Prince's mansion, and slay the demons."

"Bring wine and food."

"Li Shaoxia, let's discuss further…"

This Wang Yushi was cunning—he claimed to be discussing, but clearly wanted to keep Li Yan here to deal with the night's events.

Li Yan knew full well but made no excuse.

For him, this was also an opportunity.

The Shu Prince's mansion was filled with experts and backed by troops; elsewhere, he could only flee in frustration.

But here, Wang Yushi had plenty of capable men, and the army dared not act recklessly—perfect conditions had been created.

If we can kill a few tonight, we'll cut off one of the Shu Prince's arms…

…………

On the other side, inside the Shu Prince's palace.

In a side hall of the Eastern Six Palaces.

Sandalwood incense curled lazily; candlelight dimmed.

Ghost Zhong Kui Situ Qian sat before the altar, biting a wooden stick, sweat and cold veins bulging on his forehead, his whole body trembling.

Before him, the mourning widow Bai Qihong held a wooden prosthetic leg, sewing it to the severed stump with needle and red thread.

Blood dripped steadily; Bai Qihong's eyes glowed with excitement, even as she unhealthily licked her lips.

On the other side sat Old Tangyuan Nie Sangu.

Nie Sangu sat cross-legged, a copper basin beside her, its incense burning continuously, spewing thick five-colored smoke.

The old woman chanted softly, pulling a copper box from her robe. Inside were writhing worms—long, slender, black, gleaming with metallic sheen, resembling ironworms.

They swarmed densely, churning endlessly.

As Nie Sangu chanted, the incense smoke from the basin rose and was entirely absorbed by the worms.

Seeing the moment had come, Nie Sangu immediately pressed the copper box against the stump and poured out every last worm.

The dense mass of black worms instantly burrowed into flesh and blood.

"Mmm~"

Even Situ Qian, with his iron will, couldn't suppress a muffled groan.

Nie Sangu ignored him, continuing her chant. When Bai Qihong finished sewing the prosthetic, not a single worm remained.

"Done. Try it."

Only then did Nie Sangu slowly rise.

Ghost Zhong Kui tested it—when his thigh muscles contracted, the prosthetic lifted and lowered.

It wasn't as good as a real leg, but he could move freely.

"Thank you, Elder."

Situ Qian bowed slightly. "Your mechanical arts are famed throughout the land—truly extraordinary."

He had already worn a prosthetic, but after Nie Sangu returned, she claimed a better method and persuaded him to reinstall it.

"Hehe~"

Nie Sangu seemed quite pleased, grinning at the prosthetic. "This Worm Cursed Limb Technique—I've mastered it myself, but never used it until now. These worms can fuse living flesh and dead matter, but each day at Yin Hour, you must feed them with five-step vipers—or they'll burrow into your heart meridian. Don't forget."

"I heard your Ghost Opera Troupe has a master mechanic. If you get him to forge a bronze mechanical leg, you could hide weapons inside, striking when least expected."

"Thank you for the reminder."

Situ Qian saw clearly the old witch was probing about the Ghost Opera Troupe, so he changed the subject. "Elder, weren't you sent to ambush the Yang family's survivors? Why return early?"

"Don't mention it."

Nie Sangu's face darkened. "Halfway there, we heard the news: Old Tian Qi is dead. The Prince summoned us back immediately. Since it's already begun, the Yangs are no longer important."

"More importantly, we encountered someone."

"Who?"

Situ Qian frowned, pressing urgently.

Nie Sangu drew a deep breath, gritting her teeth:

"Qingcheng—Cheng Jianxin!"

"The Sword Immortal?!"

Situ Qian's spine turned cold.

"Hahahaha, what's to fear?"

Nie Sangu gazed out the window, eyes gleeful. "Time spares no one."

"You'd never believe it—the peerlessly elegant Sword Immortal is now a filthy, blind old Daoist, his cultivation collapsed to only the Third Floor, dragging along a burden."

"I returned ahead of the others. The Blood Nuo Master is hunting them now. I expect good news soon."

"Pity I can't kill my enemy with my own hands."

She turned back to Situ Qian, voice grave. "We'll speak of this later. Your leg is fixed—can you move tonight?"

"Of course!"

Situ Qian rose slowly, limping to the left side of the hall, pulling back a tattered oilcloth. A bronze opera stage appeared before them.

A chilling wind stirred; faint weeping echoed from the stage.

Nie Sangu's breathing quickened:

"This is… the Netherworld Opera Stage?"

(End of Chapter)