Chapter 235: Counter-Kill

Pan Xiaohei wandered back to Pan Yun's side, leaped into her arms, then perched on her shoulder, and meowed out everything he had heard.

Pan Yun's heart sank. Offering?

In her eyes, this lingering thick fog was the boundless resentment of countless vengeful spirits; the offering that could make them retreat would have to be something that could overawe them, something that made them afraid;

or else, it would have to be human lives.

Only human blood could douse the murderous aura born of their grievances. For some reason, Pan Yun immediately thought of the merchants traveling behind the caravan.

Pan Yun was about to find Miao Zhen to question her at once, but when she turned her head she saw Ah Xin and the others staring fixedly at her, making it impossible for her to set up a sound-isolating array even to whisper, so she could only transmit her voice in secret.

"Miao Zhen, have all the merchants traveling behind the caravan left?"

Miao Zhen was stunned for a moment, lowered her eyes. She had not yet learned to transmit her voice into another's ear, so she could only raise her head and give Pan Yun a small shake of her head.

Pan Yun understood at once. Regardless of why those who stayed behind had stayed, it was obvious that now the ones who could become offerings were them.

And possibly them as well.

Pan Yun recalled Song Bei's arrogant and self-assured manner at the start. Clearly, to him she was more than just a hired hand; if she failed to break the array, she would very likely be offered up as an offering as well.

Pan Yun gave a cold laugh. Playing mind games with a Daoist Priest inside a paranormal zone — tired of living, are they?

Pan Yun lowered her eyes and transmitted: "Miao Zhen, Miao He, when we get further ahead we'll spread out a little. Take out the maze-formation disks I carved for you, and each of you lead part of the people inside."

Miao Zhen and Miao He were stunned, wanted to ask, but could not open their mouths, so they could only nod at Pan Yun.

After walking a few steps forward, Pan Yun suddenly spoke up and asked, "This thick fog rises from the barren graves and white bones on either side. A place like this is heavy with yin energy and deep with resentment, and these bones are mostly those who died unjustly. How could there be so many bones near a port?"

Because Pan Yun had spoken, everyone's attention was on her. Zhu Zixun disdained to pay her any heed, so he gave a cold snort and said nothing.

Hu Jing was about to explain when Ah Xin already said, "These are all common folk who were persecuted by the imperial court."

Pan Yun raised an eyebrow. "The imperial court?"

"That's right!" Ah Xin said with a dark face. "The imperial court imposed the sea ban and relocated the fishermen inland, saying they would give them land and fish ponds. The result was dragging us off to be tenant farmers for the landlords. Don't talk about land — even to put up a thatched hut at home we had to kneel and kowtow, begging the official masters and landlord masters to grant us a patch of wasteland."

"Among the fishermen there weren't many who knew how to farm, so the harvests were poor. A whole year's harvest went entirely to tenant rent and taxes, and once you did the math, you still owed the imperial court and the landlords grain and money. When the lot of us couldn't survive, we could only sneak out to sea to fish. These are all the illegal fishermen who were executed after being caught going out to sea."

Pan Yun said, "They're arranged far too neatly. Did someone deliberately set them up like this?"

Ah Tong said, "This was to deter the common folk who still wanted to come sneak-fish."

Pan Yun gave a cold laugh. "In other words, these bones were arranged by you people?"

Seeing that Ah Xin said nothing, she understood, and said with a cold laugh, "It was probably to cover your tracks, wasn't it? But it backfired — you never expected their resentment to turn around and trap you."

Hu Jing frowned. "Why not just bury the bones or toss them away?"

Pan Yun: "I'm afraid that no matter how they walk, they can never reach the bones."

Ah Xin looked at her in surprise, finally sensing that she did have some of a Daoist Priest's skill on her, and hurriedly nodded. "Right, right, right — it's the ghost wall. No matter how we walk, we just can't get there."

The moment his words fell, Zhu Zixun, Hu Jing, and the group of guards beside him suddenly vanished from sight. Ah Xin's eyes went wide; he immediately reached out to grab, but grabbed only empty air. When he turned his head back, Su Ying and the remaining guards were also gone.

Gone at the same time were Daoist Priest Pan Sanzhu's two martial nephews, Sishui and Wuhuo.

Ah Xin immediately turned his head to look at Pan Yun.

Pan Yun's face was dark as still water, and she said heavily, "We've run into the ghost wall too."

At some distance from them, the grey-clothed men who had been watching them closely were stunned, and immediately ran up to ask, "What's going on? Where are they?"

Ah Xin shot them a look of disgust and said, "Ghost wall. We got separated."

He immediately begged Pan Yun for help. "Please ask Daoist Priest Pan Sanzhu to quickly resolve this ghost wall."

Pan Yun said with a grave face, "I'll do my best. Where's the employer? The employer should not separate from me — otherwise it'll be too dangerous in the thick fog, and I'm afraid I won't be able to protect him."

Ah Xin also felt that Song Bei's safety was paramount, and immediately turned back to look for Song Bei, who was guarding the caravan closely.

Although Song Bei was sitting on the carriage shaft and had fallen behind by some distance, the road was so straight and so flat that he had watched with his own eyes as Zhu Zixun and the others walked and walked and then vanished.

His heart kept sinking. This time it was strange — why had this thick fog suddenly become so powerful?

"Big brother, this thick fog has become far too dangerous. Let us protect you and stay by Daoist Priest Pan Sanzhu's side."

Song Bei: "Ah Xin, do you think she can be trusted?"

Ah Xin: "Didn't you hire her yourself, big brother? And how old is she? Besides, she holds a student register at the Long Hushan Academy — she should be trustworthy."

Song Bei: "But she just choked me by the neck. I really felt she wanted to choke me to death."

"Wasn't that because she was affected by the yin evil? And besides…" Ah Xin paused, then still said softly, "You said it yourself too — at the time you were possessed by yin evil. What she did might have been to choke the yin evil to death, not you, big brother."

Song Bei: ……He shouldn't have asked this fool for advice. Still, the thick fog was indeed growing more and more severe. After a moment's thought he agreed, jumped down from the carriage, and walked toward Pan Yun with Ah Xin.

But before walking over, he gave a nod to one of the grey-clothed men.

The grey-clothed man immediately turned and left.

Pan Yun saw it all, said nothing, and quietly waited.

Song Bei walked closer, a gentle smile spreading across his face, about to greet Pan Yun and warm up to her a little, when suddenly his vision blurred and the person before him vanished in an instant.

Song Bei's face changed. He whipped his head around to look — the caravan behind him had also vanished in an instant.

Ah Xin's hair stood on end. With a slash he drew his blade, looked around warily, and even shouted at the top of his lungs, "Daoist Priest Pan Sanzhu! Daoist Priest Pan Sanzhu, where are you?"

Song Bei shouted along with him, "Daoist Priest Pan Sanzhu!"

Pan Yun was standing just five steps away from them. She picked at her ear and replied, "I'm right here. Where are you?"

Inside the array, Song Bei and Ah Xin heard Pan Yun's voice coming from every direction, making it impossible for them to pinpoint her location.

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Pan Yun took her sword out of her spirit-realm space, held it in her hand and looked at it. "Having their blood stain you — it's an insult to you."

Pan Xiaohei meowed, "You'd better be mentally prepared. No one knows whether killing people earns merit or costs merit."

Pan Yun: "Wouldn't we find out by trying? We can't just not do something for fear of bad luck."

Pan Yun passed by Song Bei, who was wandering in circles. The thick fog had almost no effect on her. In a few bounds she reached the line of the caravan.

Taking advantage of the thick fog, and with her lightness skill being excellent, she flew past on tiptoe without anyone noticing her, all the way to the tail of the line.

At the tail stood twelve or thirteen grey-clothed men. Apart from the cart driver holding the mule cart, the guards on the last five carts had all been replaced by grey-clothed men.

And behind the very last cart, nine ragged people were being forced to kneel on the ground, a strip of cloth bound tightly around their mouths, unable to make any sound except muffled whimpers.

The driver of the last cart looked back and was utterly shocked, reaching out to question them: "What are you doing?"

The grey-clothed man whipped out his blade in a flash and held it across the driver's neck, saying coldly: "These people are thieves. Mind your own business."

The driver: "Aren't they just laborers hired to carry goods and push carts? They've been following behind my cart the whole time — when did they steal anything?"

Seeing someone speak up for them, the nine kneeling people nodded frantically, as if they wanted to nod their heads right off.

All nine gazed at the driver with tear-filled eyes, pleading.

The driver was about to resist, but the grey-clothed man pressed his blade downward and said coldly: "Anyone who disobeys orders can go on their way together."

With that he drew the blade back, about to slash the driver's throat, when suddenly there was a clang — the grey-clothed man's elbow went numb, and the blade clattered to the ground. The driver clutched his stinging neck, eyes wide, staring in disbelief at the person who had dropped from the sky, and at the grey-clothed man collapsing before him.

Pan Yun descended from the sky, landing on the cart covered with green cloth.

Seeing their companion killed, the remaining grey-clothed men blurted out involuntarily, "Baka, kill her!"

Seeing among those forced to kneel on the ground an old man, a woman, a thin and frail youth, and a child about her age, the expression on her face instantly turned icy.

A cold glint flashed in her eyes. With a ring she drew her sword, leapt down, and charged head-on into the grey-clothed men hacking toward her.

Her figure moved swiftly — one step, one sword; one sword, one man. By the time she had darted past them in a blur, the first man only then stared wide-eyed and thudded forward onto the ground, and only then did blood spurt from his throat…

The moment he fell, the remaining grey-clothed men dropped one after another with successive thuds. Before long, large pools of red blood had spread across the ground.

The thick fog seemed to come alive, churning and surging toward those corpses. Laughter like "Hahaha, wuwuwu" — laughter, weeping — came pouring in from every direction.

The drivers of the last two carts, who had witnessed all of this, stared wide-eyed.

Pan Yun expressionlessly wiped the blood from her sword on their bodies, then turned and swung her blade to cut the ropes binding the nine people.

Watching them frantically tear off the ropes, spit out the cloth from their mouths, and scramble away from her side on hands and knees, she then took out a handkerchief to wipe the blood that hadn't been fully cleaned from the blade, slid the sword back into its sheath, looked up at the two drivers, and raised an eyebrow. "Did you hear what they just said?"

Only then did the two drivers nod dazedly, the realization hitting them belatedly: "Th-they were Japanese pirates…"

Pan Yun: "Japanese pirates in our Great Ming have only two identities — either envoys carrying tally-trade documents to do business, or pirates!"

Pan Yun pointed at the tightly covered cart and asked, "What's being transported on this cart?"

The two drivers came to their senses in an instant. Contrary to what Pan Yun had expected, they glared at her with sudden fury and hatred. "Were you sent by the imperial court?"

(End of this chapter)