Chapter 681: City God Fair

Just past Xiaoman, nearing Mangzhong.

Although the weather had changed since last year—winters grew colder and longer, and spring winds arrived much later—this season still brought a faint warmth.

At dawn, a light rain fell over the capital.

Fine rain like silk washed the blue stone pavement outside the Capital City God Temple until it gleamed.

When the sun rose, the rain ceased at once; steam rose, mingling incense smoke, sweat, and hawker cries into a mist that hung over the three-li stretch from Xingbu Street to the temple gate.

The City God Temple had ancient origins, and in this world, it was a vital safeguard for the city—so even the Shamanist Golden Tent Wolf State, when ruling Beiping, had built one.

After the Great Xuan Dynasty's founding, it issued edicts to enfeoff all City Gods nationwide, establishing a four-tier system: Capital, Prefecture, State, and County. Beiping's Capital City God Temple was elevated to "The Supreme Temple of All City Gods," renamed "Grand Divine Efficacy Shrine," and its deity was granted the title "Efficacious Lord," with statues of the thirteen provincial City Gods enshrined alongside.

Since then, the Capital City God Temple became the hub of all City God temples, under the jurisdiction of the Rites Ministry's Mystical Sacrifice Bureau, where elite disciples from major orthodox Daoist sects formed the Enforcement Hall to jointly uphold Daoist order.

The temple's establishment also gave rise to many customs.

For instance, on the first day of the fifth month each year, the counties of Wanping and Daxing would carry their City God statues to the Capital City God Temple to "report their duties," with processions like official court outings, crowds lining empty streets to watch, incense associations and acrobats following closely—thoroughly lively.

But even livelier was the City God Fair.

The fair outside the Capital City God Temple was called the "Ancestor of All Capital Fairs," opening for three days on the first, fifteenth, and twenty-fifth of every month, extended during the Spring Festival and the May Jisi period.

The capital's fair was naturally extraordinary; merchants from south and north all attended, hailed as the gathering place of the world's rarest treasures—even the night ghost market thrived.

After all, here, illusions and trickery could not hide.

Unclean objects dug from tombs would reveal their strange signs.

Not everyone had the ability to discern malevolent qi; this place became their best choice.

Today happened to be the fair after the twenty-fifth of the fourth month; even though the Piaoxiang Pavilion had seen a major murder last night, the capital's citizens and merchants still came out for the fair.

Li Yan pressed down his conical hat, wrapped his Duan Chen Dao in coarse cloth and slung it diagonally behind his back, blending in as an ordinary merchant amid the crowd. After passing through the eastern entrance of Xingbu Street, he saw the blue stone road stretching three li, merchant stalls winding like a dragon's spine, crowds roaring, merchants packed shoulder to shoulder, banners blotting out the sky.

On the banners, one side read "Suzhou and Hangzhou Song Brocade," "Xuande Stove Treasures"; the other, "Four Treasures of the Study," "Miracles of the Realm"—all suspended on bamboo poles over ten feet tall.

Whenever the wind blew down the street, the banners flapped like battle standards.

This place was clearly ideal for hiding one's identity, but Li Yan's keen sense of smell and hearing made him suffer—even without activating his powers, scents flooded his nostrils, and the clamor of the marketplace drowned his ears.

"New tea from Guyu! Longjing, Biluochun—three cash to watch the tea master perform the tea-splash illusion!" A tea vendor from Jiangnan, wearing a bamboo hat, set up a green cloth canopy; boiling water in his copper kettle churned like thunder, and when poured, the tea liquid solidified midair into the shape of a green bird spreading its wings, drawing crowds to toss coins…

"Original by Emperor Huizong of Song: 'Willow and Crows'! Only fifty taels of silver!" A man dressed in silk, resembling a shopkeeper, unfurled a scroll; on the silk, ink willow branches held crows—but their pupils were pools of blood-red.

Li Yan's nostrils twitched; he smelled the foul, malevolent qi clinging to the painting, and his brow furrowed slightly.

This thing was no Huizong original—it was a nightmare-ward painting.

He'd heard Wang Daoxuan speak of such things: some scholars and painters, obsessed with their art, left lingering afterthoughts after death; if hung long-term in dark corners of an old house, they attracted malevolent qi.

If the qi was weak, hanging it in the home caused nightmares and restless spirits at night.

If the qi was strong, it could even manifest as a spirit to harm people.

Worse still, it could warp the surrounding earth veins into a deadly, cursed zone.

During the Tang and Song dynasties, there was a strange case: a ruined temple in the mountains claimed the lives of traveling merchants who spent the night—each found drained of blood and essence. After long investigation, they discovered a Wei-Jin-era painting was to blame; it had absorbed demonic qi and could not be destroyed, so it was later sealed on Mount Zhongnan.

This painting before him was nothing serious—merely bad for the feng shui of a yang dwelling.

If left outside the City God Temple longer, the temple's incense and the crowd's vitality would disperse it, turning it into an ordinary painting.

But unexpectedly, the vendor had barely set it out when a wandering middleman's eyes lit up with delight, and he hurried off; soon after, several scholars followed him, whispering with the vendor, then bought the painting for a fortune.

Li Yan saw this and shook his head slightly.

No need to guess—these scholars clearly intended to gift it to someone.

In the capital, power entanglements were like tangled silk; grudges were inevitable.

Across the way, at another stall, a quarrel was also unfolding.

At the corner of four corridor buildings, a group of elderly scholars gathered; a merchant was selling a fragment of the "Along the River During the Qingming Festival," with the canal boats' masts inlaid entirely with gold thread.

The merchant shouted loudly, but a young scholar sneered: "What fragment? This is a 'Suzhou Copy'! The real one's in Yan Xiang's family vault."

"Suzhou Copy" meant forged calligraphy and paintings.

In times of peace, antiques are prized; in times of chaos, gold is king.

The Great Xuan Dynasty was at its peak; countless wealthy families abounded. Their silver sat idle, rotting—too proud to give it to the poor—so the trade in antiques, bronzes, calligraphy, and paintings flourished.

Counterfeiting surged, known in the underworld as "Ce Men."

The bronze vessels from Yuzhou and the paintings from Suzhou were the finest.

In the antique trade, the rule was "bought and gone"—if you bought a fake, it was your poor eye; you could always claim ignorance, and even if you took it to court, the case was hard to prove—so demand remained high.

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

Hearing the scholar's words, the seller flew into a rage, lunging with fists and kicks; bystanders cheered, patrol officers pushed through the crowd, and chaos erupted again.

Of course, this was just a minor incident in the market.

Li Yan paid no mind, his gaze constantly sweeping toward the Capital City God Temple.

Since Hu Yuanyuan obtained the "Peach of Immortality," the "Peach Banquet" organization had not contacted her again; Li Yan suspected only if she consumed it would they appear.

The only lead now was the City God Temple.

The demonic qi controlling the "Night Walker" must be hidden within it; through this demonic qi, perhaps he could find Zhao Qingxu and the Jianmu organization.

As for the Ying Wang's mansion, there might be clues too—but as Hu Yuanyuan said, the Ying Wang's mansion had grown wary since the Jinmen dock incident; last night's murder would have put them on edge.

Visiting now would be unwise.

While Hu Yuanyuan's arrangement bought time, better to investigate the City God Temple first.

This first stop was naturally the Capital City God Temple.

It was also the Enforcement Hall's headquarters; had Li Yan revealed his identity, given his ties to Wudang and Qingcheng, he would have received a grand reception.

But demonic qi had infiltrated—there must be a traitor inside.

To avoid alerting the enemy, he could only investigate covertly.

Coinciding with the City God Fair, blending into the crowd to enter should go unnoticed.

Unconsciously, Li Yan followed the crowd to the temple's outer gate.

In the square before the temple, stalls stood like a forest, crowds like woven threads.

To the east stood incense and candle stalls; sandalwood, agarwood, and bundles of mugwort piled into small mountains; the vendor shouted loudly: "Three sticks of incense before the City God—guaranteed safety for home and hearth!"

To the west, acrobats performed: bare-chested giants swallowed swords and spat fire, drawing roaring applause.

Farther out, fortune-tellers displayed banners reading "Iron-Mouthed Truth-Teller"; copper divination tubes clattered as wealthy merchants in silk robes crouched before them, frowning.

Though noisy, a large fence separated the crowd from the temple gate.

Li Yan peered through; the temple gate loomed tall, painted vermilion with golden nails, stone lions on either side glaring with bared fangs, paws pressing embroidered balls and cubs, their manes still tied with red silk ribbons from devotees, swaying gently in the wind.

Beneath the eaves hung a gilded plaque: "Watcher of Yin and Yang"; yellow glazed tiles bore chiwen beasts; iron wind chimes tinkled, their clear tones ringing in the wind. On either side of the main gate stood two ten-foot-tall mud statues of yamen officers, blue-faced, fanged, holding water-and-fire staves; though clay, years of incense had infused them.

Their eyes and brows seemed alive—terrifying yet fascinating to passing children.

Ordinary people could sense something unnatural; how much more so for cultivators?

Li Yan clearly felt the incense qi rising from the two guardian statues, carrying a solemn, fearsome aura that drifted above the temple gate.

This was a complete protective array, its incense vigor far stronger than the two Heng and Ha generals at Fengdu Ghost City; if a cultivator used spiritual power to probe, he would instantly be trapped in an illusion.

The core of the gate's array was undoubtedly the demon-sensing mirror hanging above the lintel.

From its reflected glow, it was far more potent than the one hung above the city gate.

Li Yan pressed down his hat, silently marveling.

No wonder—it was the Capital City God Temple, the Enforcement Hall's headquarters; even some mountain sects didn't possess such a treasure.

To enter, he must suppress his aura; with the Dragon-Serpent Token to conceal him, he could slip in. As long as he passed before each statue, the ledger would naturally respond.

As he pondered, suddenly a bronze gong sounded, and the crowd parted like a tide.

"Wei—Ling—Gong—on—patrol—!"

Amid the solemn cry, eight bare-chested strongmen carried a lacquered black palanquin, stepping in divine strides.

Inside sat the City God's wooden statue: golden face, long beard, silver armor, red robe.

The gong clanged, and the crowd parted again like waves.

It was the City God's return from patrol; devotees stepped aside, bowing and kowtowing, many lighting their incense sticks; blue smoke curled, and the gilded plaque "Grand Divine Efficacy Shrine" loomed ominously.

"Open the gates!"

As the City God statue entered the temple, the guards shouted, moved aside the wooden fence, and the impatient crowd surged inside.

Folklore said burning the first incense granted any wish.

Especially this City God, who judged yin and yang—so many with grievances had waited outside all along, ignoring the fair's bustle.

Like the old woman beside Li Yan, trembling, mumbling: "City God, open your eyes…"

Sadly, the world did not know: guarding the city was already the City God's duty; human grievances were beyond even the underworld's concern, let alone this clay idol.

The crowd pressed tightly; the old woman was jostled, nearly falling, her incense snapped.

Just as she was about to collapse, her arm was suddenly steadied by Li Yan.

"Elderly lady, I'll accompany you inside."

Li Yan nodded slightly, exerting subtle force; those around him were pushed aside.

He used the skill of the Immortal Seal Technique—no one noticed.

"Th-thank you."

The old woman, lost in thought, muttered, then shuffled slowly into the temple.

Outside the gate, besides the guards, several Daoists watched the surroundings with sharp eyes—but since Li Yan was supporting the old woman, even with his blade on his back, they paid him no mind.

Soon, they entered the temple with the crowd.

The Capital City God Temple followed the "front court, rear residence" layout of an official compound: three gates along the central axis—the temple gate, Shunde Gate, and Chanwei Gate.

The main hall, Grand Divine Efficacy Shrine, spanned five bays, with a single-eave gable roof covered in black-edged yellow glazed tiles, a three-bay annex projecting forward; inside stood the statue of the "Efficacious Lord" and thirteen provincial City God statues, symbolizing "ruling over all City Gods."

The rear hall served as the ancestral shrine, where the City God and his lady resided.

Beyond that lay the Law Enforcement Hall, forbidden to enter.

As for the east and west corridors, they housed the "Eighteen Departments," symbolizing the infernal judicial system.

Likewise, Daoists guarded every doorway of the main halls and every statue's front.

Li Yan lowered his hat and supported the old woman as she walked.

He could sense that talismanic seals were placed throughout the temple, rendering spiritual detection impossible.

Li Yan furrowed his brow slightly, observing silently.

Admittedly, this method did deter cultivator probes—but often, the problems arose from within, as in the Zi Gai Mountain Cave Heaven, where Daoists had been corrupted by demonic influences.

Even the rats Da and Er had hidden inside the clay statues without being discovered.

This was clearly a serious flaw.

They moved with the crowd and finally entered the Grand Divine Power Shrine.

The City God was a deity born of human faith, typically a renowned spirit from history—such as Grand Divine Lord Ji Xin, a general under Emperor Gao of Han, who died in place of Liu Bang during the Battle of Xingyang and was later revered as the "General City God of Thirteen Provinces."

Others included Wen Tianxiang of the capital, Qin Yubo of Shanghai, Zhou Xin of Hangzhou, and Chen Wenlong of Fuzhou—all figures immortalized in ink and brush.

Li Yan, supporting the old woman, passed before each City God statue; the Soul-Calling Scroll remained unresponsive.

He felt disappointment, yet also a flicker of relief.

If the Capital City God Temple had been compromised, the capital must already be riddled with decay.

Could the one who controlled the Night Walker Spirits have infected only the auxiliary statues?

After circling once more with the old woman, Li Yan was utterly certain.

The statues of the Capital City God Temple bore no taint of demonic qi.

Looking at the old woman beside him, her face filled with grief, Li Yan finally asked:

"Old lady, what grievance do you carry?"

"Grievance? I have no grievance…"

The old woman's eyes were vacant; her voice trembled: "Two years ago, the Hejian Prefecture suffered disaster. My whole family fled to the capital. My husband starved to death on the road. Last year, my son died from exhaustion repairing the river. This year, my daughter-in-law caught a chill and died with my grandson. Now only this old, useless thing remains alive."

"I came only to beg the City God to grant them a better rebirth next life."

Li Yan fell silent upon hearing this.

He had seen too many such tragedies; no matter how high his cultivation, his heart remained powerless.

As the old woman spoke, she walked out of the City God Temple.

At that moment, the Soul-Calling Scroll in his bosom suddenly grew hot.

Li Yan snapped his head up, shoved a few taels of silver into her hand, and hurried into the marketplace.

Following the direction indicated by the Soul-Calling Scroll, he arrived before a stall.

The stall's owner was a young man wearing a small cap, his eyes darting everywhere; seeing Li Yan approach, he beamed: "Sir, take a look—everything here is top quality: Song-era porcelain, Tang-era jars, you name it…"

Li Yan raised his hand to stop him and pointed to a shard of black pottery.

"Where did this come from?"

On it, unmistakably, radiated the aura of "Pantao"…

(End of Chapter)