“Mr. Gongsun!” Zhang Zhiliang blurted out, his face ashen.
In the stillness of the night, the scene before them was terrifying, suffused with an eerie and unspeakable evil.
Seeing this, Li Yanchu furrowed his brows, visibly disturbed by the hellish sight before him. A surge of nameless hatred toward the one behind all this welled up in his heart.
Head Constable Wang said, “Looks like the Five Lakes Gang was wiped out before we even arrived. Their leader, Gongsun Hong, was brutally murdered.”
Li Yanchu replied, “This place was set with a sinister formation that can block the senses of cultivators. Whoever orchestrated this clearly went to great lengths.”
Head Constable Wang asked, “Daoist Master Yanchu, that woman we saw on the ship, Guo Caiyun... was she also a paper effigy?”
Li Yanchu shook his head. “That woman radiated evil qi, but I don't think she's working with the person behind all this. On the contrary, it seemed like she was trying to warn us. As for her exact motives, I can't say.”
Clearly, she was a practitioner of the Art of Skin Painting, and she was a strange and esoteric figure. Whether she was friend or foe remained uncertain. Li Yanchu suspected she might be one of the eccentrics drawn to Wei City in pursuit of the Elixir of Immortality.
Whoosh! A sharp-taloned hawk dove from the sky like a flying arrow.
“Watch out!” Li Yanchu shoved Head Constable Wang out of the way and struck with his palm.
Six Yang Force! At this time, his powerful blood and qi burst forth like blades.
The hawk spread its wings, twisted midair, and rode a sudden gust of wind. Incredibly, it nimbly dodged Li Yanchu’s Divine Astral Strike!
“What the hell is that thing?!”
“Where’d that hawk come from?!”
The officers all drew their weapons, shouting in alarm.
Seeing this, Li Yanchu’s gaze darkened. He was just about to slash down the sudden appearance of the eagle with a single strike, but then...
A soft pop echoed beside his ear. The eagle vanished into thin air, turning into a piece of skin that fluttered gently to the ground.
Just then, Li Yanchu raised his hand, and with a surge of energy, the skin flew straight into his palm. The moment he touched its slick, clammy texture, his brow furrowed in disgust.
“Human skin?” A flicker of revulsion passed across Li Yanchu’s face. But as his fingers lightly rubbed over the surface, he quickly noticed something... off.
“What the hell is this?” Head Constable Wang sheathed his sword and walked over, frowning.
Li Yanchu’s eyes narrowed in thought, his tone surprised as he said, “It looks like... these are all place names from Wei City.”
“Huh?!” Head Constable Wang’s eyes lit up. He stepped forward and took the skin from Li Yanchu’s hand.
Sure enough, it was densely covered in names of locations scattered across Wei City. At a glance, he counted about thirty-four sites.
“These all seem to be clustered around the Qingyi Temple,” Head Constable Wang exclaimed in shock.
The two men exchanged a look.
“Could this be the list of locations where the Five Lakes Gang buried their explosives?” Li Yanchu asked.
Head Constable Wang took a deep breath and said, “It must be. I’ll send men to investigate right away.”
Li Yanchu’s gaze drifted into the distance, as if he could see through the depth of the night.
“That Guo Caiyun we saw on the ghost ship earlier... just who is she, really?” His heart was filled with curiosity.
The hawk and the thief, Qiao Wu, had clearly both come from the Art of Skin Painting. They were likely the work of the same person.
Once the situation with the Five Lakes Gang at the riverbank was settled, Li Yanchu bid farewell to Head Constable Wang and returned to Wei City ahead of the others.
The night around him was dense, silent, and deep. For no apparent reason, a sliver of unease passed through Li Yanchu’s heart. So far, the known strange figures in Wei City included not only the mysterious mastermind behind the paper effigies, but also another eccentric skilled in ghost-rearing arts.
Now, yet another had emerged: an expert in skin painting whose allegiance remained unclear.
“This legend of the Elixir of Immortality must truly be a powerful lure... But who exactly is this Wuling Wanderer?” Li Yanchu remained skeptical of the elixir’s existence.
Since ancient times, it wasn’t just eccentric hermits who chased eternal life. Emperors, too, had sought immortality. Yet no one in this world had ever truly been known to live forever. Still, this pursuit might very well bring forth a storm of blood and chaos.
Moreover, Li Yanchu had a nagging feeling that the Lady Qingyi Temple was far from ordinary. Otherwise, the person behind the paper effigies wouldn’t have gone to such lengths, even manipulating the Five Lakes Gang to plant explosives and destroy the temple.
Is it simply to kill on an auspicious day, or is there something hidden within the temple itself?, Li Yanchu pondered.
At the moment, everything seemed shrouded in mist, leaving him with no clear direction.
Bai Hongtu, still reveling in the charms of a courtesan beauty, dropped his chopsticks to the ground the moment he heard that Li Yanchu had participated in wiping out the Five Lakes Gang the night before. He had actually missed out on such a perfect chance to make a name for himself!
Thinking of this, Bai Hongtu was on the verge of tears. He glanced at his own striking, upright reflection in the bronze mirror, and suddenly flew into a rage.
“My indulgence in wine and women made me miss such a monumental event! Starting today, no more alcohol!”
The annual Wei City Qingyi Temple Festival officially began. Lanterns and banners adorned every corner, and crowds surged like waves. The atmosphere was bustling with excitement. Lantern displays, calligraphy, poetic scrolls, and riddle games could be seen everywhere along the streets.
Most of the calligraphy featured poems and lyrical verses, radiating joy and celebration. The streets were alive with noise and laughter.
Walking down the main road, Li Yanchu noticed street vendors popping up like mushrooms after the rain. Vendors bustled through the streets, selling various things like candied hawthorns, masks, sugar figurines, all kinds of sweets, perfumes, and powders, which created a lively and festive atmosphere.
From the stone bridge, one could see ornately decorated flower boats floating along the river. Onboard, spirited young scholars toasted and recited poetry, full of life. Graceful, scantily dressed courtesans were also present, their alluring charm drawing countless eyes. Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on NoveI~Fire.net
At the entrance to the Lady Qingyi Temple, the crowd was thick, people constantly entering and exiting. Most were travelers from out of town, here to pay their respects to the famed Lady Qingyi. It was said she was highly responsive to prayers. Whether for academic success, romantic fate, or peace and safety at home, the temple was known for its efficacy.
At this time, Li Yanchu strolled leisurely through the festivities, and the cheerful scene gradually brought a small smile to his lips.
The cries of street vendors echoed continuously as he pulled out a small piece of silver and bought a skewer of candied hawthorns, biting off half a fruit and letting it sit in his mouth. The tangy sweetness was quite delightful.
The vendor handed back ninety-nine copper coins, strung together on a cord.
Li Yanchu, not paying it much mind, tucked the coins into his robe pocket casually. But suddenly, his brows knit tightly together. With a sharp movement, he quickly pulled the string of coins back out and examined the coins carefully.
Sure enough, one of the copper coins was stained with blood! That deep, crimson red appeared especially jarring in Li Yanchu’s eyes. He took a deep breath and tucked the string of coins back into his robe.
Casting a glance around, a flicker of suspicion flashed in his gaze. Ordinary people wouldn’t be able to see this kind of “blood money.” To the street vendor, it was nothing more than a normal coin. Only cultivators like Li Yanchu could perceive the difference.
Strange... why would blood money be circulating near the Lady Qingyi Temple? Li Yanchu wondered.
In folk belief, coins stained with blood, known as “coins of grievance”, were considered deeply inauspicious, often seen as harbingers of misfortune or lingering resentment.