Chapter 607: Summoning Spirits Through Array

Summoning Wen Lingguan?

Upon hearing this, everyone exchanged uneasy glances.

Even Cheng Jianxin was drawn to pay attention.

"Do you have confidence?"

The female Daoist beside him found it hard to believe.

This female Daoist's Dao name was Lan Chenzi; though she appeared merely an unremarkable middle-aged nun, she was in fact an expert in detection arts and a core force within the sect.

Her skepticism had good reason.

The artifact known as the "Bingding Shenggui Fu" was famous throughout Qingcheng Mountain—no one was unaware of it—yet the Fengdu lineage continued to decline.

One reason was the sect's strict rules.

The other was the difficulty of mastering the technique.

Holding the "Bingding Shenggui Fu" allows one to summon Wen Lingguan.

This technique rivals a great weapon, but only the first-generation inheritors could wield it; afterward, it grew increasingly difficult.

Now, it exists only in ancient texts.

Qingcheng Mountain disciples sometimes chatted privately, joking that this spiritual connection, like human relationships, fades with use.

The first-generation ancestor called and he came at once.

Later disciples ignored him.

Now that Li Yan intended to use this technique, their doubts were inevitable.

Leaving aside their safety, if this failed and the demon man successfully seized the Nine Cauldrons, countless lives in Shu would be lost.

At such a moment, no one dared to be careless.

"Rest assured, everyone—no problem."

Li Yan's expression remained calm as he bowed slightly.

Seeing his certainty, the other Qingcheng disciples were uncertain, turning their gazes toward Ming Shanzi.

Ming Shanzi looked at the group and said solemnly: "I trust Li Shaoxia. He keeps his word, and he would never act recklessly on such a matter. Let us proceed with this plan—our time is running out…"

With the plan settled, everyone immediately dispersed to act.

Zhao Xianda and several garrison commanders reassembled their troops.

Chengdu's miasma was now thick, like a mad dream; though not immediately lethal, every soldier who entered suffered deteriorating condition.

Many had been injured by the frenzied civilians, and some were so terrified they wished to flee secretly.

In times of crisis, true heroes emerge.

After Zhao Xianda delivered a stirring speech and revealed that a great calamity would strike Shu, these soldiers were finally galvanized, vowing to fight to the death.

After all, Shu was their homeland.

After mobilizing the troops, Zhao Xianda and others retrieved Chengdu's map and carefully planned their strategy.

This was no ordinary affair—courage alone would not suffice.

Their forces numbered only ten thousand, and they had marched a long distance, exhausted, with insufficient provisions and ammunition, and gunpowder enough for only one battle.

The Wang Fu, by contrast, had thirty thousand troops, fresh and waiting.

Moreover, they must pass through several major streets, now occupied by frenzied civilians.

To pass safely, they would need to employ some tactics…

On another front, Li Yan was also seeing them off.

"San'er, Lao Sha—be careful on the road!"

He repeatedly warned the two brothers as he watched them.

"Don't worry."

Sha Lifei chuckled, "We're not even going into the Wang Fu. Worst case, I'll bring more gunpowder—you just wait and watch the show."

Li Yan nodded, then bowed to the three beside him: "Three elders, thank you—please protect my brothers."

Three others accompanied them into the tunnel.

They were: Yue San'er of the Bamboo Grove Six Sages, known as "Earth Listening String"; Cui Bai, the "Skin Painter"; and the Qingcheng elder Daoist Chong Chenzi.

One was a land master, able to detect earth veins and avoid misdirection that could ruin everything.

One was a master of the Craftsmen's Guild, skilled in various secret arts.

And the Qingcheng elder Chong Chenzi, though white-haired, was tall and broad, his face scarred, an expert in thunder arts, among the strongest in Qingcheng, sent specifically to hold the line.

The underground tunnels were complex; too many people would be dangerous.

These few were carefully selected.

"Follow me, everyone!"

Lu San nodded silently, picked up his pack, and led the remaining men swiftly into the thick fog and snow.

They were not far from the secret passage beneath the bridge, but many of the hidden routes leading to the Wang Fu had collapsed; they had to detour around several bends to reach it, so they departed early…

Watching their retreating figures, Li Yan's heart grew heavy.

This mission was unlike any before.

From Shanzhou to Ezhou, they had taken on many jobs, but all were small-scale skirmishes, mostly kept far from battlefields.

This time, it was true war.

With so many new firearms involved, no one could guarantee they would survive the battlefield…

"Li Shaoxia."

A voice suddenly came from behind.

It was Commandant Zhao Xianda.

He hesitated, then bowed: "After much deliberation, we still cannot find a way to reach the Wang Fu without disaster."

"If we attack the civilians, the streets will run red with blood—and we'll exhaust our gunpowder before even arriving."

"The best solution is still to break the curse and drive away these civilians…"

"That won't work!"

The female Daoist Lan Chenzi shook her head: "Li Dao You needs half an hour to prepare to summon Wen Lingguan—we're leaving now and cannot waste spiritual energy; there's no time."

"Besides, the Dragon Maiden's state is still unstable—she's key to stopping this. Too many civilians would risk their souls dispersing entirely!"

Zhao Xianda's face darkened with distress.

Lan Chenzi was right—but a direct assault would kill countless civilians, and the garrison soldiers couldn't bear it.

"I'll do it."

Yang Chenghua raised his hand.

"Thank you, elder."

Without hesitation, Li Yan handed him the bronze basket.

Others watched, their curiosity about Yang Chenghua's identity growing—they couldn't understand why this proud man showed such deference to him…

What they didn't know was that Yang Chenghua had already absorbed vast amounts of incense offering from Erlang Mr. Zhenjun; aiding the Dragon Maiden with incense was no problem.

In any case, arrangements were complete.

Li Yan patted Wu Ba on the shoulder, then turned and led the Qingcheng group away.

They were going to set up the altar; Cheng Jianxin and his disciple, Yang Chenghua, and the remaining Bamboo Grove Six Sages would stay behind with the troops.

"Master…"

Seeing Cheng Jianxin's increasingly aged face, Chang Tianque's heart ached, and he quickly supported him.

This time, Cheng Jianxin did not resist.

He allowed Chang Tianque to hold his left arm, gazing far ahead, his cloudy eyes distant, as if remembering something, a faint smile on his lips.

"Master, what are you smiling about?"

"Nothing. I was remembering my days in the northern frontier, fighting the remnants of the Golden Tent Wolf Kingdom—the severity then was no different from today."

"Back then, those who had always disliked each other worked together, even shielding each other from blades."

"The courage of our Shenzhou blood has never been broken…"

………………

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Figures darted across rooftops amid the snow and wind.

To avoid interference from civilians on the streets, Li Yan and his group had used light-body arts to run along rooftops and eaves.

Below, crimson lanterns stained the thick fog.

The group moved like ghosts walking upon a river of blood.

Behind them followed Qingcheng Mountain's elite, so Li Yan ran without restraint, swift as lightning; within less than a stick of incense, they reached the alleyways near the Wang Fu.

They hid in darkness, gazing at the distant palace.

One hundred and eight funeral lanterns emitted cold light, like an isolated island repelling the crimson mist around them.

Below lay a vast, dark army.

"These are the Spirit-Guiding Lanterns of the Ming Jiao!"

Ming Shanzi said gravely: "These artifacts are difficult to make; the Ming Jiao rarely lets them leave. It seems this demon man prepared long ago."

Ming Jiao… Li Yan's mind suddenly recalled a figure.

Holding a long banner, chanting funeral dirges.

The Ming Jiao sounds terrifying, but it is also a proper Xuanmen sect, originating from Qin and Han imperial sacrificial rites, skilled in all funeral and burial arts.

His friend from Chang'an, the Night Crier Shen Sanyou, was a member of the Dark Religion.

Back then, he seemed like a towering mountain, unfathomably deep.

Without realizing it, he had also reached this point…

Pushing aside the clutter in his heart, Li Yan turned and said:

"Everyone, prepare."

The Qingcheng Sect members had already prepared.

At his words, they instantly scattered.

Robes fluttering, figures twisted and turned like cranes within the crimson mist, spreading outward from Li Yan.

!

The position they chose was called Crane Cloud Tower.

This tavern was famous in Chengdu Prefecture; during the previous dynasty, when a top imperial scholar returned, many high officials came to greet him, when suddenly a flying crane descended.

Some said it was an auspicious omen, symbolizing swift advancement.

Immediately, a wealthy merchant proposed building a tavern, and indeed, that scholar later rose to the highest office, so the place became known as Scholar Tower.

Chengdu students always chose this place to host banquets.

Of course, at this moment, Scholar Tower stood empty.

To strengthen the altar, it must be built high.

The Qingcheng members intended to use Scholar Tower's height to suppress the opponent.

Ming Shanzi's robe flapped as he held a Luo Pan in one hand, checking it, while with the other he pulled out a series of small flags from a satchel on his back.

At the same time, another Daoist threw out copper coins.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

As the ritual flags landed, they passed cleanly through the air above the coins and drove into the gaps between the green bricks and black tiles.

If someone looked down from above, they would see the ritual flags forming a Bagua pattern; Qingcheng Daoists' wide sleeves fluttered as if the Bagua itself were turning.

As for Li Yan, he sat cross-legged, focusing his mind and calming his breath.

The Qingcheng Daoists were setting up the Jingyang Altar.

The altars of the Xuanmen orthodox sect cannot do without the "Sixty Tongzhen Jing" and the "Thirty Hui Zhen Tan"; "Jing" is for internal defense and protection, "Tan" is for performing spells.

The "Jingyang Altar" is one of its special forms.

In the Shuowen Jiezi, "Jing" means light, sunlight; it can also be extended to mean "magnificent, auspicious signs."

Within Xuanmen, there is a saying: "When the Jingyang Bell rings, all immortals gather"; thus, the greatest function of the "Jingyang Altar" is to summon celestial beings.

Although the Qingcheng Sect is famed for its martial Daoist sword techniques, it also has a direct lineage of the Zhengyi tradition, so its methods for setting up altars and conducting rites are far from inferior.

Soon, the array flags settled into place.

The Kun Dao Lan Chenzi sprinted across the snow-covered rooftops, her red cords weaving through the air, linking all the ritual flags into one network.

Then she suddenly dropped down, forming hand seals and stepping the Gang.

Hummm! Hummm! Hummm!

The thirty-six golden needles in her hairpin trembled violently; all the ritual flags shook in unison, Gang qi surged upward and merged into a single field.

A normal Jingyang Altar takes a long time to set up.

Setting the altar, playing music, burning incense…

The process is extremely elaborate; some Daoists cannot even endure it.

But for these experts, they could use various methods to construct it temporarily—barely sufficient, but usable.

Still, the proper rituals must be observed.

The Daoists, aside from assistants, were divided under Ming Shanzi's command into those guarding the altar and those watching over it.

Soon, incense smoke rose.

Li Yan held the "Bingding Sheng Gui Fu," guarding his soul within.

He could swear on his honor—there was a reason.

First, he had already visualized Luofeng Mountain and, using the Immortal Mountain Boshan Incense Burner, constructed the Eight Generals' Palaces of the outer altar, enabling him to use the most pure Fengdu methods.

Second, he held the title of Tian Guan.

His "Bingding Sheng Gui Fu" appeared mysteriously; right after the Leibu trials ended, it was ordered delivered to him.

Clearly, the old Daoist Juechen had been deeply reluctant.

Li Yan had his suspicions.

In the Daluo Fa Realm, a faction wanted to stir up trouble.

And now, others had also begun to move.

They were likely supporters of the "Heavenly Code," unable to descend directly without violating heavenly law, so they intended to use him…

…

As the Qingcheng members busied themselves, the Chongqing army also began to march.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Tens of thousands of armored soldiers surged forward, shaking the ground.

Snow on both sides of the rooftops tumbled down in cascades.

The aura of grimness seemed ready to scatter the thick fog ahead.

This commotion naturally drew the attention of the townsfolk.

"Ah~"

A dense chorus of mad shrieks erupted.

These townsfolk were now completely insane, eyes blood-red, mouths and eyes twisted, drooling, charging toward the army.

"Prepare!"

Zhao Xianda gave the order; soldiers raised their firearms.

Three-eye muskets, bird guns, divine fire guns…

Their firearms were clearly inferior to those of the Shu Prince's household.

But for killing, they were more than sufficient.

Sweat broke out on Zhao Xianda's forehead.

If possible, he did not wish to strike these innocent townsfolk.

But the cursed civilians were too frenzied.

If they got close, they might infect others with the curse.

The real enemy was the Shu Prince's army; Zhao Xianda had no intention of losing large numbers of troops here out of mercy.

Thinking of this, he could not help but glance at Yang Chenghua.

But among the crowd, Yang Chenghua held a bronze flower basket; people around him scattered, allowing him to reach the front line.

"Rise!"

Without complex incantations, Yang Chenghua uttered a low command, and immediately fierce winds howled, snowflakes swirled, wrapping him in a vortex.

Many behind him saw this and turned pale.

Many among them were experts in occult arts; with proper preparation, they could produce such effects themselves.

What truly startled them was the sudden surge of potent incense energy bursting from Yang Chenghua's body, pouring into the bronze flower basket.

This level of incense power could not belong to any mundane deity in mountain temples—and it was still growing.

Hummm! Hummm! Hummm!

As the incense energy flowed in, the bronze flower basket trembled more violently.

Whoosh~

Finally, the gale twisted into a tornado above the basket.

Unlike before, this tornado, saturated with incense energy, thickened to the width of a water barrel, curving upward into the sky until it vanished.

The tornado faintly took the shape of a dragon.

Soon, incense energy from all nearby streets surged wildly toward Yang Chenghua.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

In the night sky, thunder rumbled.

Soon after, light rain began to fall.

The rain was icy cold.

Where it fell on the crimson snow, the snow began to melt.

Where it touched faces, the townsfolk froze, stunned.

Some quickly regained clarity, looking around in confusion.

"Advance!"

Zhao Xianda shouted the order; the army moved forward again.

They advanced in the Mandarin Duck Formation, raising their firearms; upon command from the front, they fired together into the sky.

The awakened townsfolk, seeing this, scattered in all directions, revealing the main street leading to the Shu Prince's palace…

(End of Chapter)