Chapter 229: Last Night's Performance Wasn't Even a Warm-Up

The pale blue-white lightning remnants on the Thunderclap Token were abruptly forced out by him.

The thunder qi wasn't thick, even appearing somewhat thin, yet it was extremely pure—like a line of cold electricity splitting open black clouds on a winter night beyond the Great Wall, charging straight toward the southeastern leak point.

Lu Yuan almost simultaneously formed the "Pressure Demon Seal."

His two fingers pressed together, thumb resting on the root of his ring finger, the back of his hand flipping outward.

"Suppress!"

The thunder qi, talisman light, and altar energy merged into one, pressing downward along the earth veins.

"Crack—"

An extremely faint splitting sound came from deep within the valley.

That sound didn't resemble wood cracking; it was more like bones that had been buried underground for years finally being forced open by sheer force.

All its hanging branches lashed out wildly at once, and the evil eye in the center of the trunk burst open to its limit, blood vessels exploding as if trying to suck in all the surrounding black mist.

And at the southeastern corner of the ground, within that "leak point," a surge of black-red malevolent energy shot up into the sky, actually condensing into a human figure.

That figure wore an opera robe and a helmet, most of the white powder on its face peeling away. Its eye sockets held no eyeballs—only two points of green flame.

The moment it appeared, it opened its mouth and let out a sharp, weeping cry:

"Return my life to me—!"

Song Qinghe's face changed color.

"It's out!"

Lu Yuan's gaze was as cold as a blade.

"Don't let it touch the ground."

"This is the main soul malevolence nurtured from the tree roots."

"If it touches the ground, it will borrow a corpse to rise—and then we'll be in serious trouble."

Before his words even faded, he had already grabbed the ritual sword, stomped the Yu Steps three more times, and swept like the wind to the front of the altar.

"All evils retreat, ritual sword consecrated."

"I obey the command of Supreme Elder Lao Jun, urgently, urgently, as by the law's command!"

The blade flashed, landing precisely on that figure's shoulder.

But the malevolent shadow only shook once, enduring it directly.

Seeing this, Zhou Heng gritted his teeth and charged forward, raising his peach wood sword sideways and shouting:

"Senior Brother! I'm coming!"

He thrust his sword out—though not as clean as usual—it perfectly struck the shadow's left rib.

Song Qinghe was also quick; three Cold Talismans shot out simultaneously, sticking beneath the shadow's feet.

"Seal!"

Cold energy exploded violently.

The shadow's lower body was instantly frozen half an inch deep.

Lin Zhaoxuan, suppressing his injuries, pressed both hands onto the Thunderclap Token and roared:

"Thunder, come!"

The token shook, and a thin, bright bolt of blue-white lightning fell again, striking directly atop the shadow's head.

"Boom!"

That human figure trembled violently. White powder, black smoke, and green flames scattered all at once, the entire soul shadow split open with a large gap.

Seeing the opportunity, Lu Yuan immediately shouted:

"Erxiao, the Corpse-Suppressing Nails!"

Xu Erxiao had been waiting for that command. He snatched up three lightning-struck jujube wood nails and drove them into the three death points beneath the shadow's feet.

"First nail locks the soul!"

"Second nail cuts the path!"

"Third nail seals the gate!"

The three nails struck the ground, and the malevolent shadow let out a piercing, ear-splitting howl, its form as if nailed firmly in place.

Lu Yuan's eyes turned cold. Taking advantage of its inability to disperse, he formed a sword finger with his left hand, flipped the ritual sword with his right so the spine faced the sky, and softly chanted the final incantation that combined both release and capture:

"Soul, return to the path; spirit, return to your homeland."

"Do not linger, do not cause harm."

"If there are grievances, follow the talisman into the altar."

"If there are evil roots, burn together with the thunder."

"Urgently, urgently, as by the law's command!"

The incantation finished, and he stabbed down with his sword.

The tip did not strike the soul shadow but aimed directly at the root of the yin malevolent energy beneath its feet.

"Capture!"

The yellow talismans on the altar surface shook in unison, golden-white talisman light instantly retracting inward.

Under the quadruple suppression of thunder, talismans, nails, and cold, that human figure finally let out a long, drawn-out shriek, its form collapsing rapidly as if its bones had been pulled out.

In the end, only a charred, paper-thin shadow remained, pinned firmly under Lu Yuan's sword by a single talisman slap.

The old willow tree in the valley also trembled violently.

The evil eye on the trunk slowly closed.

Countless branches drooped as if they had lost their support, like a breath finally cut short.

The black mist began to disperse.

At the edge of the sky, a faint thread of gray-white was faintly visible.

This night was finally coming to an end.

The sky was just before dawn.

The black mist that had pressed down over Wildman Ditch for half the night seemed to have been sliced open by a knife down the middle, drifting in wisps toward the mouth of the valley.

Residual smoke still rose from the collapsed wooden beams of the distant opera stage, punctuated by an occasional crack, like bones snapping from burning.

Lu Yuan stood before the ritual altar, not rushing to sheathe his sword.

He stared at the old willow tree for a moment. Seeing that the evil eye in the trunk's center had completely closed, the black veins on the trunk that had bulged like blood vessels were slowly receding, and the branches had drooped.

Though it still looked withered and gloomy, it no longer carried that ferocious, living vitality from before.

"It's done."

Lu Yuan spoke two words, his tone very light, but they made the several people who had been tense all night let out an obvious sigh of relief.

Xu Erxiao was stunned for a moment, then plopped down onto the ground, letting out a long breath of white air.

"Mother of mine... it's finally over."

Wang Cheng'an raised his hand to wipe his sweat, the back of his hand covered in mud mixed from incense ash and cold sweat. His lips were pale, but he still remembered to right the overturned censer.

Song Qinghe supported Lin Zhaoxuan, her eyes still a bit red, but her brows had relaxed considerably.

Zhou Heng simply stabbed his peach wood sword into the ground and leaned against a withered tree trunk, panting heavily, blood still seeping from the wound on his shoulder.

After confirming the old willow's state, Lu Yuan slowly sheathed his sword.

He didn't speak immediately but walked over to the tree, circling the roots halfway.

The "leak point" that had been cracked open by the thunder technique had collapsed back, mostly closed. The black-red malevolent energy had completely dissipated, leaving only a ring of charred mud, as if scorched by thunderfire.

Near the roots, a few segments of white bones and scraps of opera robe fabric had turned to ash, scattering with a single gust of wind.

Lu Yuan raised his hand and lightly tapped his knuckles against the trunk.

"Thud."

The sound was dull, with no echo.

He looked down again at the charred paper shadow pinned under the talisman.

The shadow had shrunk considerably from before, its edges curling up, as if burned by something, with a faintly visible, incomplete human outline.

Lu Yuan lifted a corner with his sword tip, revealing dense black-red patterns—like an opera script, or the base of some kind of soul-capturing paper talisman.

"This isn't the main malevolence," he said quietly.

"It's a shadow nurtured from the tree."

"Once the soul disperses, this thing is useless."

Hearing this, Lin Zhaoxuan's expression finally relaxed completely, his voice lighter than before.

"So... this old willow tree, it's really suppressed?"

Lu Yuan nodded.

"The thunder technique entered the roots, the evil eye is closed, and the malevolent path is severed by seventy percent."

"It will take at least ten years for it to awaken again."

Xu Erxiao immediately slapped his thigh upon hearing this.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's start a fire!"

This comment even made Wang Cheng'an crack a smile.

Once people step back from the brink of life and death, their bodies feel like their bones have been suddenly pulled out, and no one wants to keep up their guard anymore.

Especially after a night that had been both cold and terrifying, with several hard-fought battles, everyone was utterly exhausted.

Lu Yuan glanced at the sky. A line of pale gray had appeared at the horizon—not yet fully bright, but enough to see the path.

"Start the fire."

His words were succinct.

Xu Erxiao was the quickest. He immediately picked up a few dry wooden beams from the collapsed stage and pulled a fire starter and oiled paper from his pack.

Wang Cheng'an, meanwhile, brought over some dry, broken boards and cleared a space near the tree roots.

Soon, a campfire was blazing beneath the old willow tree.

The flames weren't strong at first, nearly dying in the morning breeze, but fortunately Xu Erxiao moved quickly, adding some pine branches and dry moss, and the fire steadily grew.

The orange-red light cast dappled shadows across the trunk, making it look a little less yin-infused and more like the kind of desolate, ancient feel of a deep forest.

The group sat around the fire, each resting.

Zhou Heng re-bandaged his shoulder, wincing in pain, yet he still couldn't help glancing at the old willow tree, as if afraid it would suddenly open its eyes and come back to life.

Song Qinghe sat next to Lin Zhaoxuan, taking his pulse again, occasionally dipping a cloth in hot water to place on his forehead.

Lin Zhaoxuan's face was still pale, but the flush of fever had faded considerably, and his breathing had steadied. He leaned against the tree root, his hands resting on the Thunderclap Token, as if he still didn't dare let go completely even after surviving.

Lu Yuan sat on the other side of the fire, his ritual sword laid across his lap, slowly wiping the talisman ash from the blade with a cloth strip.

The firelight illuminated half of his face, his brows and eyes calm, as if the life-or-death battle they'd just fought hadn't left any ripples on him.

Wang Cheng'an poured the remaining water from his kettle into a small iron pot by the fire, then looked at Lin Zhaoxuan's group, then back at Lu Yuan. Finally, he couldn't hold back and lowered his voice.

"Brother Lu, when they were chanting the incantation earlier, something sounded off to me."

"It... didn't sound like the accent from out here."

Xu Erxiao nodded in agreement at this.

"Yeah, I heard it too."

"The way they said it, the tail end was too fine, different from how we do it around here."

Neither Xu Erxiao nor Wang Cheng'an dared to be too definitive, since they weren't exactly experts themselves.

But at this point, Lu Yuan stopped what he was doing.

He looked up, his gaze crossing the fire toward Lin Zhaoxuan.

"Which branch are you from beyond the Great Wall?"

The question was asked calmly, even casually, but Lin Zhaoxuan's group clearly froze.

Zhou Heng was taken aback at first, then sheepishly lowered his head.

Song Qinghe pursed her lips and looked at Lin Zhaoxuan.

Lin Zhaoxuan was silent for a while, then reached out and gripped the Thunderclap Token, as if weighing how to answer.

A spark popped in the fire.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice lower and steadier than before.

"We... aren't from beyond the Great Wall."

He looked up at Lu Yuan, his expression earnest.

"We came from within the Wall."

Hearing this, Lu Yuan's hand, which was wiping the sword, paused slightly.

A flicker of firelight danced in his eyes, making them look even more still and calm.

"From within the Wall?" He looked at the three of them, his voice not loud but carrying a hint of unspoken inquiry. "So why aren't you staying put inside the Wall, coming out here to freeze your bones and risk your lives? What's the point?"

The question was direct, even a bit cold.

Anyone else might have felt uncomfortable.

Zhou Heng had just taken a sip of hot water and nearly choked, coughing so hard his shoulder wound throbbed.

Song Qinghe quickly patted his back, but also looked at Lin Zhaoxuan, clearly waiting to hear his answer too.

Lin Zhaoxuan leaned against the tree root and was silent for a while.

His fingers unconsciously traced the cracks on the Thunderclap Token's edge, the rough bronze wearing his fingertips white.

The fire crackled, casting flickering shadows across his face.

After a long while, he spoke in a low voice.

"Master is gone."

Those four words hung in the air, and everything went quiet.

Even Xu Erxiao instinctively stopped what he was doing, his hand frozen mid-motion as he poked the fire.

Lu Yuan heard the words "Master is gone." His expression didn't change much, but he slowly folded the cloth strip in his hands twice and casually tucked it under the sword sheath.

A pop from the fire made his expression seem even calmer.

He didn't press further, simply nodded lightly.

"If you don't want to talk about it, I won't force you."

Lin Zhaoxuan looked up at him, as if he hadn't expected him to drop the subject so quickly.

But Lu Yuan had already shifted his gaze to the old willow tree, his tone steady, but he was about to lay bare the true nature of Wildman Ditch.

"But there's something I need to say first."

He pointed to the charred, muddy ground beneath his feet, then to the old willow tree that seemed quiet but was still brimming with yin energy.

"This place isn't just some ordinary haunted ditch."

"It's a shrine feeding a Malevolent Deity left behind by the Commanding Ghosts Liu Family, one of the Ten Families beyond the Great Wall."

Hearing this, Zhou Heng, Song Qinghe, and Lin Zhaoxuan were all visibly startled.

Even Xu Erxiao, who had been silently gnawing on a dry biscuit, couldn't help but look up.

Lu Yuan continued.

"The Liu Family made their name by commanding ghosts. Outsiders only know them for raising yin spirits and commanding malevolent things, but they're even more ruthless than that. They use living people's vitality, their energy, incense offerings, and opera offerings, feeding a Malevolent Deity layer by layer."

"This Wildman Ditch was one of their old feeding grounds."

"That stage, the lanterns, the white-boned yin soldiers you saw—those are just the outer shell, the 'performance heads' meant to blind, to lure, and to feed."

He paused, looking up at the group, his voice dropping a notch but growing heavier.

"The real danger is still ahead."

Lin Zhaoxuan's expression changed slightly, and he couldn't help asking:

"What... what else is there ahead?"

Lu Yuan didn't answer immediately. He picked up a stick from the fire and casually drew a few lines on the ground.

First, he drew a tree, then added three circles beneath its roots.

"What you just saw was the part above ground."

"But feeding a Malevolent Deity relies on the 'Three Layers.'"

"The top layer is the lamp, using the opera to lure souls. The middle layer is the tree, using the wood to hide malevolent energy. The bottom layer is the pit, using the earth to nurture the deity."

"The stage was broken, the lamps scattered. The thunder technique landed, the tree's eye closed."

"But the most dangerous part is the pit in the bottom layer."

He pressed his finger heavily on the bottommost circle.

"That pit hasn't been opened yet. The soul shadow you scattered was just scraps it spat out."

"The one that's truly being nurtured is still sleeping down there, hasn't even shown a bit of itself."

Song Qinghe's face went pale, her voice dropping low.

"You're saying... that stuff from last night wasn't even the real deal?"

"No," Lu Yuan answered bluntly. "That was just the watchdog let out from the gate. At best, an appetizer."

"If the Commanding Ghosts Liu Family dared to leave a shrine for a Malevolent Deity here, they wouldn't just set up a tree and a stage so simply."

Zhou Heng couldn't help swallowing, his shoulder wound throbbing painfully, his face stiffening.

"Then... what is the real thing?"

Lu Yuan looked up, gazing at the shadow beneath the tree that the morning light couldn't reach.

"Hard to say for now."

"Maybe it's a malevolent corpse, or an earth spirit, or some kind of yin god that someone ruined while trying to refine."

"But one thing's certain: it's not the theater troupe you imagined, and it's not a few wild ghosts that have grown strong."

"If you really treat it like just another stage show to clean up, you won't even know how you died."

Lin Zhaoxuan's scalp tingled, and he couldn't help shrinking his neck, muttering:

"This thing is that evil?"

Lu Yuan looked at Lin Zhaoxuan. There was no scolding in his gaze, only a very straightforward reminder.

"More evil than you think."

"You three are young, and you've got spirit—I can see that."

"But your skills haven't caught up yet. Your courage ran ahead first."

"If I hadn't set up an altar here tonight, and if you three didn't have a few tricks up your sleeves, forget about breaking the situation—you might not have even made it out of this ditch."

Lin Zhaoxuan was silent, offering no rebuttal.

Lu Yuan continued.

"Right now, with your injuries, your inner fire, and the backlash from the thunder token, you all need to rest."

"Although this yin vein has been suppressed, the main offering hasn't shown itself yet."

"If we few push deeper, it will be a head-on collision."

"If you know what's good for you, as soon as it's light, before the malevolent energy flows back, leave Wildman Ditch immediately."

He paused, making his point even clearer.

"This isn't a place you can stay for long."

"I'm not driving you away. I'm trying to save you."

The area around the fire fell silent for a moment.

The morning light had already crept in from the mouth of the valley, casting a pale sheen over the charred ground beneath the old willow tree.

But the shadows at the tree's roots still hung like a deep, silent well, sending a chill through anyone who looked at it.

Lin Zhaoxuan lowered his head, staring at the Thunderclap Token in his hand, his knuckles slowly tightening.

After a long moment, he spoke in a low voice.

"Brother Lu, what you've said... I'll remember it."

He didn't promise to leave immediately, nor did he say anything else. He simply acknowledged it steadily.

Lu Yuan looked at him. He knew this guy's mouth had accepted it, but his heart might not actually retreat.

But he didn't say any more.

Some words were enough at this point.

The road beyond the Great Wall was treacherous. Men with tough luck often refused to turn back easily.

But once they truly saw that thing down below, they'd probably realize that last night's performance wasn't even a warm-up.