Chapter 636: North Mang, How Piled with Graves

Boom!

Spring thunder rumbled faintly; fine rain drizzled, weaving like silver threads.

"Yah!"

Sha Lifei leaned forward, gripping the reins, whipping the horse, his soaked thin cotton jacket clinging to his back.

The yellow gelding beneath him had its mane caked with water droplets, hooves kicking up clots of mud.

The spring chill bit hard; the cold wind struck like steel needles, seeping through their soaked clothes, making Sha Lifei and Wang Daoxuan shiver.

Yes, only the two of them were going to Shaolin.

Li Yan's plan still had some oversights.

The problem lay with Wu Ba.

The key to this journey to Shaolin for aid was speed—no delays on the road.

Therefore, the local veteran martial artist "Jin Yanfeng" had planned the optimal route for them.

Departing from the southern gate of Luoyang City, follow the Yi River southeast, first stop at Longmen Inn to change horses, then take the Yique Ancient Road.

This ancient path, after passing through the Longmen Grottoes, turns northeast along the Yi River to Pengpo Town.

This is a strategic chokepoint on the southern foothills of Mangshan, where Mangshan meets the outlying ridges of Funiu Mountain.

To guard against bandits from Funiu Mountain attacking at night, bypass Pengpo Town entirely, pass through Baisha Post, and follow the old lands of Luhun straight to Dajindian Town on the western border of Dengfeng.

Once you reach Dajindian Town, you are safe; proceed to Guodian Village, where a imperial military road leads directly to the gate of Shaolin Temple, avoiding the dangerous peaks of Songshan.

If they rode hard, they could reach Shaolin Temple in less than two days.

But Wu Ba's massive frame meant no horse could carry him at speed.

Thus, only Sha Lifei and Wang Daoxuan were going.

The situation on Mangshan was unknown; they couldn't do without Lu San's reconnaissance and Long Yan's spirit-summoning arts—this arrangement was unavoidable.

Fortunately, Sha Lifei had now successfully built his tower; his sword and spear techniques had both improved greatly.

Wang Daoxuan had cultivated the Five-Head Divine Scripture; his primordial qi now warmed in his chest, and he could split his focus, no longer fearing enemies closing in.

Combined with their martial world experience, they were more than capable of handling most situations.

"Master, you've traveled far—have you ever been to Shaolin?"

Sha Lifei spurred his horse forward, suddenly turning to ask.

Wang Daoxuan, shivering from the cold, shook his head: "This Daoist rarely visits monk temples."

"I've been there…"

Sha Lifei's eyes flickered with nostalgia. "When I first entered the martial world, I followed an older brother who told me a grand martial gathering was being held at the foot of Shaoshi Mountain, where heroes from all corners would converge—he promised to take me along for exposure and to make a name for myself."

Wang Daoxuan asked curiously: "What happened?"

Sha Lifei chuckled bitterly: "Need I say? I was tricked."

"He demanded travel expenses and bribes—I scraped together every copper coin, kept it all on my person, but when we reached Shaoshi Mountain, we couldn't even enter the gate. That brother stole my money in the dead of night and fled."

"I ended up sitting in a tree watching for hours, then begged my way back to Chang'an."

"Hahaha, don't worry—this won't happen again."

"We're the Twelve Zodiacs…"

…………

Slanting wind, fine rain, dark clouds overhead.

In the forest, raindrops pattered on fallen leaves.

Li Yan lightly adjusted his hat, gazing upward.

Beyond, the mountain's bulk rose and fell beneath the clouds like frozen ink waves.

Mangshan was neither tall nor a sacred grotto, nor even beautiful—it was merely barren hills and ravines. Even from its base, one could see everywhere the looted tombs and broken steles, utterly desolate.

Yet even without divine senses, Li Yan felt a powerful aura surge toward him.

"North Mang, how piled with graves, five or four high mounds. Ask whose tomb this is—everybody says: Han dynasty lords."

"Jin Yanfeng" gazed at the distance, his expression complex, voice trembling: "Since ancient times, the people of the Central Plains have considered burial on Mangshan an honor. Imperial tombs abound, and countless ministers and generals rest here—how could they stand idly by while demons and evil spirits run rampant?"

"The dead care nothing for the affairs of the living."

Li Yan's face grew grave, replying casually.

In truth, he knew the reason—but he couldn't speak freely.

The cosmos had its own laws: when a man died, his soul entered the Underworld.

Whether descending into the Eighteen Layers of Hell or cycling through the Six Realms, he was severed utterly from the mortal world.

Those fengshui-perfect ancestral graves merely channeled the earth's qi through bloodline ties—blessings lasted no more than three generations.

Anything still active beyond that must be unnatural.

Either wandering lonely ghosts and vengeful spirits, or living corpses, those who returned from death.

If those emperors truly dared interfere, Mangshan would be struck by constant thunder.

Of course, these were only his speculations.

The true situation awaited secret word from the divine Erlang Zhenjun.

Unfortunately, the bronze nu mask had remained silent…

Pushing aside his thoughts, Li Yan asked gravely: "Elder, Mangshan is vast—do you have any leads on the Ghost Emperor's hiding place?"

Jin Yanfeng stroked his beard and shook his head: "The 'Record of Ghosts of North Mang' contains no record. The 'Records of Buddhist Temples of Luoyang' might, but that book was lost years ago—perhaps a single copy survives, hidden away by wealthy families, never shown to outsiders."

Li Yan's brow furrowed at this.

Beside him, Long Yan glanced at Jin Yanfeng: "You didn't mention this on the road—you must have a plan. We don't have time for games."

"Yes, yes."

Jin Yanfeng flushed with embarrassment, smiling weakly: "Old habits—I didn't even notice. Young master, forgive me."

He pulled from his robe a faded, yellowed silk scroll.

Unfurling it, it revealed a detailed landscape map.

Pointing toward the distance, he said: "Look—Mangshan is vast, yet not without pattern. It has thirty-three peaks: Pingfeng Mountain, Gucheng Mountain, Shouyang Mountain, etc. aligned west to east along Luoyang's northern rim."

"The soil here is thick, the water low—ideal for burial. According to grave diggers, there are at least eight Eastern Zhou royal tombs, five Eastern Han imperial tombs, two Cao Wei imperial tombs, five Western Jin imperial tombs, six Northern Wei imperial tombs… scattered across Mangshan. There's not even room for a grazing ox."

"The bronze tripod Zhao Lüzi found came from a Northern Wei tomb. Recently, another strange event occurred: an elderly tomb keeper heard the sound of nu opera echoing from the tombs at night—likely the Ghost Emperor's hiding place."

"But we can't just climb up openly—we'll be spotted. We need cover…"

"What kind of cover?"

Li Yan asked.

Jin Yanfeng said nothing, pulling a bundle from behind his back.

Inside were paper money, paper offerings, cakes, and similar items.

Li Yan instantly understood, glancing around: "It's Qingming…"

"Yes."

Jin Yanfeng nodded: "In two days it's Qingming proper. Climbing tombs before Qingming is an old custom—even in rain, today's visitors to Mangshan will be many. We can blend in easily."

He then instructed them on attire.

"Miss Long, wrap a white cloth around your head—pretend to be a grieving daughter…"

"Brother Wu, you're large—find a carrying pole, pretend to be a servant carrying offerings…"

"Young Master Li has noble bearing—Lu Young Master and I will follow behind you…"

After his guidance, their disguises were convincing.

Just then, people began arriving down the mountain—families together. Li Yan's group stepped out of the woods and trailed them at a distance.

Soon, Li Yan noticed something strange.

On every grave's summit rested a bowl-shaped clump of earth.

Li Yan knew this was called "grave hat."

During Qingming in the Central Plains, people weed and mound soil, placing a bowl-shaped clump with grass roots atop the grave—this is the "grave hat."

The custom existed in many places, nothing unusual.

The oddity: some mounds bore red paper, soaked by rain, dripping red fluid like blood oozing from the tomb—deeply eerie.

"This is a Central Plains custom," Jin Yanfeng explained. "A newlywed bride joins her family to visit tombs, placing red paper atop the grave to announce the family's new member to the ancestors—likely someone recently married."

Jin Yanfeng explained, "A newly married daughter-in-law must join the family in visiting the graves and place a red paper on each mound to announce the arrival of a new member to the ancestors—this is likely the home of someone who just took a bride."

Li Yan stared at the approaching Mangshan, a chill rising in his chest. "Mangshan lies on the Central Dragon Vein, packed with tombs. Aside from recent events, Elder, have you heard other oddities?"

Jin Yanfeng shook his head: "Luoyang has a City God Temple; the Earth God's troops patrol annually on Shangsi Festival. The people are used to it—they turn their shoes upside down at night so ghosts think no one's home."

"Not only are they unafraid—some even go out at night to watch 'ghost fires,' called 'viewing lanterns.'"

Li Yan fell silent. "Well, they've got guts."

Jin Yanfeng smiled bitterly: "Precisely because nothing ever happened, I never suspected anything. Yet Mangshan has always held many wonders."

"Legend says Laozi once cultivated elixirs here. In the second year of Longshuo under Emperor Gaozong, he ordered the construction of Shangqing Palace on Mangshan—to subdue ghosts and honor the ancestral master. When completed, Gaozong held a ritual altar—and on Mangshan's peak, a mirage appeared in broad daylight. The emperor was delighted, calling it an auspicious sign."

"If it happened once, perhaps court officials flattered him—but it happened again."

"In the fourth year of Yifeng, Gaozong and Empress Wu came to sacrifice on Mangshan—and the mirage appeared again, this time showing Laojun descending."

Li Yan's eyes narrowed. "Shangqing Palace's doing?"

Li Yan narrowed his eyes, "Did Shangqing Palace do this?"

Jin Yanfeng shook his head: "After this, Shangqing Palace became the Li Tang imperial Daoist temple—Daoism overshadowed Buddhism."

Jin Yanfeng shook his head and said: "Regardless, after this incident, Shangqing Palace became the Li Tang imperial Daoist temple, and the Daoist sect now overshadowed the Buddhist sect."

By the Tianbao era, a giant serpent emerged again from Mangshan, more than ten feet tall and a hundred feet long. The eminent monk Shan Wuyi sighed, "It seeks to breach the waters and flood Luocheng," and used a secret Indian method to curse the serpent to death. Emperor Xuanzong, upon hearing of it, personally met the monk, and thus the Buddhist sect gained another revered figure.

The mirage and the giant serpent were the famed marvels of Mangshan; few knew of Xu Fu's affair.

Li Yan, upon hearing this, immediately lost interest. "Most likely just a power struggle between Buddhist and Daoist sects."

At that time, Luoyang was the divine capital of the Great Tang, where the greatest adepts of the mysterious arts gathered; tales of their magical duels echoed through the ages.

At that time, Shan Wuyi, Jin Gangzhi, and Bukong—the three founding masters of the Esoteric School—met together.

Master Yixing, Master Huiri of the Pure Land School, the Great High Priest of the Ming Jiao from Tokharistan, the Old Lady of Lishan, Xing Hepu, Lan Caihe, Luo Gongyuan, Ye Fashan, Zhai Qianyou… pick any name, and each was a figure capable of shaking the mysterious arts world.

Not to mention the reclusive wonders, such as the "Gray Monk" whose whereabouts remain unknown in Shu to this day, and Wu Youxu, who secretly collaborated with the Mohist Grand Master to create a prototype of the steam engine.

It was a glorious golden age of the mysterious arts, yet even that could not halt the overwhelming tide of change.

Just as humanity now undergoes transformation, the orthodox sects of the mysterious arts tremble in fear.

Thinking of this, Li Yan lost all desire to inquire about old tales.

Unconsciously, they joined the crowd of tomb-sweepers and reached the summit of Mangshan.

On the mountainside, grave-robbing tunnels were everywhere; fresh-turned yellow earth scattered with waterlogged spirit money.

"Damned thieves!"

The tomb-sweeping commoners, upon seeing this, could not help but curse angrily.

Though Li Yan's group had concealed themselves, their aura could not be fully masked; nearby villagers recognized them and cast wary, disgusted glances, clearly mistaking them for grave robbers.

Unwilling to cause trouble, they quickened their pace up the mountain.

On the mountain, tombs belonged either to high officials and nobles or to emperors and famous figures; fewer people came to pay respects.

Li Yan gave a glance; Lu San immediately formed a hand seal and muttered under his breath.

Shushu shushu…

From the damp undergrowth, rustling sounds arose.

These were the wild rats and snakes summoned by Lu San, converging from all directions.

Various "squeaks" and "hisses" followed.

Lu San listened intently, then shook his head, signaling no anomalies nearby.

Li Yan also activated his spiritual senses, but heard no ghostly or divine voices.

"There should be nothing here."

Jin Yanfeng pointed to the peak on the left. "That is the tomb of Emperor Jing of Northern Wei—the place where the strange sounds were heard. I hear the Shangqing Palace even stationed guards there for a time. They might still be around. Be careful."

"Yes, Elder is right."

Li Yan gave a hand signal; the group pressed forward.

Lu San released hawks to soar high above, while the little white fox carried Rat One and Rat Two in its chest pouch, darting about.

With their current abilities and in broad daylight, no ambush could evade their notice.

Half an hour later, they finally reached their destination.

On the slope, the stone tomb guardian's head lay half-buried in earth; broken steles emerged from the wild grass.

A massive entrance to the underground palace had been dug open, half-collapsed.

"It's probably not here."

Jin Yanfeng glanced around and chuckled bitterly. "Bold thieves have already looted it and left unharmed; the Shangqing Palace's guards have withdrawn. This is not the location of the Ghost Emperor's tomb."

Li Yan gazed at the endless mountain ridges around him and felt a headache coming. "Elder, do you have any other clues?"

Jin Yanfeng sighed. "There are simply too many tombs on Mangshan. Without a target, you'll never find it."

Huh~

As they spoke, a strange wind suddenly swept through the mountains.

Li Yan sniffed the air, his expression instantly turning grave. "Be careful—there's a serpent's stench."

Before he finished speaking, thick fog surged from the mountaintop and rapidly spread outward.

Within mere breaths, mist surrounded them all.

Li Yan's back hairs stood on end; he stared in disbelief at his surroundings.

"Such a thick serpent stench…"

Lu San muttered, frowned, and summoned the little white fox closer.

Long Yan, too, looked astonished. "This… this is a Serpent Mirage!"

"I've seen it in the southern frontier—when a great serpent cultivates to mastery, it can spew clouds and mist across the mountains, luring prey into bewilderment until they walk straight into its mouth. But this…"

Her meaning was clear to all.

If the mist covered such a vast area, how enormous must the serpent demon be?

"Is it the giant serpent of Mangshan?"

Jin Yanfeng's face filled with regret; he slapped himself hard. "Damn mouth—why did I say that?"

"Even if it is a giant serpent, we're not afraid. Wu Ba, prepare to strike!"

Li Yan drew his Duchen Blade, his face filled with murderous intent as he scanned the surroundings.

Wu Ba, upon hearing this, immediately unslung his tiger crouching cannon from his back.

They might lack Shan Wuyi's cultivation, but the cannon's power would certainly suffice.

At that moment, a hoarse voice emerged from the fog:

"Oh dear, be careful—don't use that thing…"

(End of Chapter)