Chapter 178: You

Pan Yun: "But what?"

Zhang Ziming frowned. "Whether absorbing spiritual energy or using flesh to nourish corpse insects, one should choose young people with robust qi and blood. Why did he pick this… old Daoist?"

Pan Yun: "Oh, he's young."

Chen Ziwu, fearing misunderstanding, quickly bowed and said: "I am Chen Ziwu, twenty-three years old. To move freely through the mortal world and perform divination and fortune-telling, I adopted this disguise. A misunderstanding, a misunderstanding…"

Zhang Ziming and the others fell silent for a moment, studied him, then asked: "Pan Yun, do you know him?"

Pan Yun: "I met him today. I was selling herbs; he bought some."

Zhang Ziming and the others instantly understood. The herbs from Mount Sanqing were unmatched throughout the martial world.

Zhang Ziming glanced at Zhang Zixiang.

Zhang Zixiang then asked Chen Ziwu to remove his disguise—since they were investigating, they needed to know what the man truly looked like.

Chen Ziwu smiled, obediently following Zhang Zixiang out.

When they were gone, Zhang Ziming mused: "The Soul-Draining Insect—I've only glimpsed it in ancient texts. It's treacherous and venomous, with no recorded cultivation methods. No scripture on transferring spiritual energy mentions it. I wonder where this man got it, and how he managed to breed so many."

Wang Gongze: "The southwest is full of insects and skilled in cultivating poison Gu. Could he be from there?"

One senior brother said: "Why would a heretical sect from the southwest come to our Jiangnan? Frankly, no matter where he's from, wake that heretic, apply the Seventy-Two Punishments, and he'll confess."

"We've tried. He won't wake," Zhang Ziming said, glancing at Pan Yun. "I struck too hard. I fear if his brain is damaged, waking him won't help."

Pan Yun: "Unlikely. At most, I split his heart, liver, spleen, lungs, kidneys, and dantian. He can't have hidden the insects in his brain—that'd be suicide."

The group moved to the next room to observe the heretic lying stiffly on the wooden bed. After a moment, they all turned to stare at Pan Yun.

The man on the bed was charred black, hair standing on end, disheveled, emitting the scent of roasted meat.

Pan Yun stared at him, silent.

Pan Xiaohei let out a soft "meow." "Aren't you going to save him? He might die."

【Evil-doers live a thousand years—I don't believe he'll die so easily.】

Pan Yun said aloud: "Why not open him up while he's still alive? See where the mother insect is hiding—alive or dead."

Zhang Ziming: "No. That's no different from being a heretic. We should summon Lord Lou to heal him. At least we need to know how many people he's harmed, and how many others in the world use Soul-Draining Insects."

"Send someone to Summoning Cliff to bring down Lin Tangzhu. This is serious—Criminal Law Hall must investigate."

"Dawn's coming. No need to climb up—he'll come down himself," Zhang Ziwang said irritably. "Why does he insist on locking himself on Summoning Cliff? Can't he reflect down here?"

Pan Yun softly reminded: "Zhang Yuanzhu, I'm still here."

Everyone: …

Zhang Ziwang fell silent, his face flushed crimson.

Teachers could say such things privately, but not in front of students—Summoning Cliff was a tool to intimidate them.

If reflection was the same anywhere, why force students to climb Summoning Cliff?

The room grew awkwardly quiet. Finally, Wang Gongze, Zhang Ziwang's friend, spoke: "I'll go fetch Lord Lou."

The tense atmosphere lifted. They resumed examining the heretic. "His clothing suggests wealth. Search carefully—maybe we can trace his origins."

"He's unfamiliar. Not a Daoist from Jiangnan or the Central Plains. Likely from the north or southwest."

One senior brother pried open the heretic's teeth and said: "Teeth and build—definitely not northern."

Pan Yun stood by, arms folded, listening. They found nothing useful. She was nearly asleep.

Fortunately, Chen Ziwu returned, his disguise removed.

Unmasked, Chen Ziwu was a young, energetic lad.

He bowed repeatedly, then peered at the heretic on the bed and asked: "Is he dead?"

Pan Yun: "Not yet."

"Then he's about to be?"

Pan Yun nodded.

Chen Ziwu hesitated. "Shouldn't we save him? I know a bit of medicine. If we wake him, we can question him."

Zhang Ziwang stopped him. Everyone here knew medicine.

They'd all examined him. Leave him be. Let Lord Lou handle the rest.

He didn't fully trust Chen Ziwu. "When did you arrive at Long Hushan?"

Chen Ziwu: "Yesterday."

"Why come to Long Hushan?"

Chen Ziwu: "To seek the Dao."

He added: "I am twenty-three. I came to receive the Talisman Ordination."

"Do you have your official Daoist license?"

Chen Ziwu shook his head, cheeks reddening. "I cultivated myself."

Zhang Ziwang extended his hand. "Your household registry."

Chen Ziwu hurriedly rummaged in his sleeve and produced it.

Indeed, in every dynasty, in every land, the first thing checked after an incident was identity.

Pan Yun leaned in to look.

Zhang Ziwang glanced at her, then handed it to her after reading. She took it at once and studied it.

Pan Yun raised an eyebrow. Fengyang native—the imperial family's birthplace.

She closed the registry and passed it along. Everyone took turns reading.

According to Chen Ziwu, he came to Long Hushan for cultural exchange: first, to learn something from the Long Hushan Academy; second, to inquire about the Talisman Ordination.

The Celestial Master's Mansion governed all Daoists nationwide. The Academy accepted Daoists from everywhere—not just long-term students, but occasional short-term training.

It welcomed Daoists from all regions for exchange.

Pan Yun thought it was just paying respects to a powerful sect.

Because visiting Daoists all praised endlessly, forged fragile friendships with Daoists from Da Shangqing Palace or the Academy, and gained insider information anyone could find out.

He chose to climb the mountain at dusk to excuse himself with "darkness fell"—so he could stay overnight at Da Shangqing Palace.

"I planned to visit the abbot of Da Shangqing Palace tomorrow—once dawn came—then register to cultivate there and take the Talisman Ordination exam in September."

"If you dare take the Talisman Ordination exam, why not take the license exam?"

Chen Ziwu sighed. "I want to. But the court's requirements are strict. At my age, I'd have to be beaten before even sitting the exam. My heart trembles—I fear I won't pass."

!. ead

After being beaten, how could you sit for the exam? The test is hard enough, and the pass rate is tiny. Only a fool would expect to pass.

Zhang Ziwang frowned. "If you have no license, how is your corvée labor accounted for?"

Chen Ziwu grinned. "I'm a native of Fengyang. No labor required."

Zhang Ziwang gave him a long look. "A native, huh…"

He moved on. "How were you captured?"

Chen Ziwu's capture was unremarkable. The man pretended to be a Daoist from the Academy, walking down toward him.

He exchanged two sentences, then struck—no one else was on the road.

He and the rotting corpse attacked together. Chen Ziwu resisted only a few moves before being taken.

Perhaps fearing injury to himself, to his dantian, or loss of spiritual energy, the man was extremely careful—no internal injuries, not even a scratch.

"So you've never seen this heretic before?" Lin Jingle walked in and asked.

Everyone turned. They hadn't noticed Lin Jingle had entered—she'd been standing at the door for a long time.

They glanced outside. Dawn had broken.

Zhang Ziwang said: "You're just in time. Is he chasing someone to Long Hushan—or did he come here specifically to capture people? Are there accomplices? We must find out."

Lin Jingle grunted, stepped forward, glanced at the man on the bed, then asked: "Where's Lord Lou?"

"Here." Lou Tong entered, face grim. She had terrible morning temper. Someone had banged on her door before dawn. She hadn't drawn her sword already meant she was being kind.

Wang Gongze followed, rubbing his nose awkwardly.

Lou Tong examined the man, then began treatment. Lin Jingle fixed her sharp gaze on Chen Ziwu, flipping through his registry. "You haven't answered: have you seen him before, or is this your first time?"

Chen Ziwu hurriedly replied: "First time, truly! Otherwise, I'd never have let him get close."

Lin Jingle: "Where did you come from to Long Hushan?"

"Kaifeng."

"In the past half-month, have you encountered anyone unusual? Anything strange?"

Chen Ziwu was about to say no—then paused.

Lin Jingle nodded slightly. "So there was something."

Lin Jingle turned to Lou Tong. "Can he be saved?"

Lou Tong's expression softened slightly. "Yes. But he won't wake for some time. This isn't a Lei Fu lightning strike. Who summoned this lightning?"

Everyone fell silent. All eyes turned to Pan Yun.

Pan Yun raised her hand. "I did."

Lou Tong said: "You may not use this method in school duels. It kills."

Pan Yun grinned. "It's a last-resort technique. Don't worry, Lord Lou—I won't use it unless I have no choice."

Lou Tong: "Go rest."

Pan Yun glanced at the man on the bed, nodded, and said: "I'll return when he wakes."

Chen Ziwu could only watch helplessly as she left.

Lin Jingle's questioning was far sharper than Zhang Ziwang's. As soon as she left, Lin Jingle began grilling him—demanding details of every day in the past month, and probing his movements over the entire year.

He asked the same question repeatedly, jumping from one point to another, scribbling on paper for a long time before concluding, "This person has been chasing you since Kaifeng Prefecture."

Chen Ziwu also realized this during his repeated review.

He murmured, "Could I be so talented that he chose me?"

Lin Jingle glanced at him and said, "Because you can convert your true qi into spiritual power; you now cultivate spiritual power, while most in the martial world cultivate true qi. Those taken away as fertilizer and Jie cultivate true qi."

So he can only be fertilizer, while Chen Ziwu can be a provider of spiritual power.

Chen Ziwu thought of the endless insects crawling out of the jar's mouth, his face turning deathly pale—he had no desire whatsoever to be this.

Seeing his ashen face, Lin Jingle offered rare comfort: "It's the same either way—the fertilizer is even laid eggs inside its bloodline, while you die and that's it, but at least your corpse is preserved. You're better off than fertilizer."

(End of Chapter)