Lady Hong Guan waved her hand and began to encourage the disciples of the Bitter Ghost Hall: "Although our Bitter Ghost Hall’s main hall is in Yellow Field Prefecture, the disciples come from all nine prefectures of Jing Country.
Among you brothers, ninety percent are locals of Mingjiang Prefecture. Now there’s a group of scum—things that have no normal human emotions. They don’t care for good food, amusements, or anything beautiful.
They want to destroy Mingjiang Prefecture, demolish your homes, and kill your families. Tell me, Lady Guan, what should you do?"
"Whoever dares touch our home or our family, I’ll blow them to pieces!"
"Anyone who wants to destroy Mingjiang Prefecture, I’ll kill them first!"
"Brothers of the Bitter Ghost Hall, as per the Young Master’s arrangements, split into three groups to rescue Mingjiang Prefecture, to save your own families..."
With one command from Lady Guan, dozens of boats, each carrying hundreds of disciples of the Bitter Ghost Hall, started their engines and set course toward the ninth, eleventh, and thirteenth piers.
Lady Guan herself sat by the shore of the nineteenth pier, ready at all times for Zhou Xuan’s instructions.
Zhou Xuan’s divine soul patrolled back and forth among the eleven reservoirs and even encountered the Painter, who was also making his rounds.
"Young Master, many thanks to you this time for uncovering Mo Tingsheng’s plan and pinpointing the exact time of their operation."
"Old Hua, save your thanks for later. I’ll just ask you this: is there any movement in the eleven reservoirs?"
"Besides the Qinglianshan Reservoir, where you apprehended the kidnapper’s mole, explosives have been pre-planted on the sluice gates of three other reservoirs. The remaining seven reservoirs show no abnormalities."
"You’ve checked each one thoroughly?"
"I’ve inspected them all one by one; there’s truly no activity."
"That’s odd," Zhou Xuan said. "Mo Tingsheng specifically emphasized the eleven reservoirs, yet seven of them show no movement."
He spoke in a deep voice: "Could it be that the kidnapper’s plan to destroy Mingjiang Prefecture isn’t happening all at once, but rather wave after wave?"
The Painter shook his head and said, "Unlikely. Mo Tingsheng needs the deaths of millions of people in Mingjiang Prefecture to use their souls for consciousness aggregation.
If aggregation is the goal, then triggering destruction all at once to generate the maximum number of soul consciousnesses is the scene Mo Tingsheng would want to see."
Zhou Xuan knew the Painter’s reasoning was sound.
If that’s the case, then why were seven of the reservoirs still quiet?
"Perhaps... exploding the reservoirs isn’t the only method to cause their collapse."
Zhou Xuan offered his theory. The Painter was also puzzled and said,
"Young Master, the number of people Mo Tingsheng has stationed is indeed large, but they’ve never burned incense to swear loyalty. If they want to destroy such massive reservoirs in the shortest time possible, explosives for cutting through mountains and clearing roads seem to be their only option."
"Painter, you’re still too arrogant. Think harder—are there any mysterious methods with immense destructive power that require no incense offerings to initiate?"
"Such methods... I doubt they exist."
"Why wouldn’t they? Our Mysterious Sect’s arrays, for instance," came the voice of Ya Zi drifting out from Zhou Xuan’s divine soul.
During Zhou Xuan’s Divine Soul Day Trip, any words his soul spoke would also leave his body.
Inside the Zhou Family’s Jingyi Shop, Zhao Wuya, who was guarding Mo Tingsheng and Evil God Guang Yin, as well as Zhou Xuan’s physical body, heard Zhou Xuan’s question and responded proactively.
Zhou Xuan hurriedly inquired, "Ya Zi, are arrays really that destructive?"
"Of course. Within our Dragon Seeking lineage, the ’Dragon Shocking Array,’ the ’Riding Dragon Formation,’ and the ’Dragon Summoning Array’—each and every one of these arrays, once set, can be activated with a simple understanding of the method. Even an ordinary person could trigger it effortlessly. The Wu Family’s arrays have similar effects."
Hearing this, Zhou Xuan turned to the Painter and asked, "Are there arrays inside the reservoirs?"
"None that I’ve seen."
"There are! Before coming to Mingjiang Prefecture, I toured the area on my Big Black Donkey. When I reached the Baimei Mountain Reservoir, I vaguely sensed the presence of an array. I thought it was something the locals in Mingjiang Prefecture had deliberately set up."
"Our reservoirs in Mingjiang Prefecture have never had arrays set in them."
"But you’ve pounded in plenty of Living Human Piles, haven’t you? And all according to the layout of an array. Naturally, that forms an array."
Zhou Xuan asked, "Ya Zi, what are Living Human Piles?"
"When carving paths through mountains or building bridges over water, some areas prove severely accursed. In such cases, living people are used as wooden stakes, driven into the foundations to subdue the negative energy."
"Mingjiang Prefecture has indeed used many Living Human Piles." The Painter was familiar with the concept but couldn’t fathom how those piles had become an array.
"All those Living Human Piles—weren’t they supervised by the City God?"
"Which City God? Old Hua, you’ve forgotten—hasn’t the City God been thoroughly corrupted by the kidnappers? Of the three leaders, only Qing Feng is a decent figure. The Monument King and the Abbot are utterly at the kidnappers’ beck and call."
"Young Master, I’ll head over immediately."
The Painter felt a wave of escalating anxiety. He tore through space and traveled first to the Baimei Mountain Reservoir, as Zhao Wuya had mentioned.
Zhou Xuan followed him, his Divine Soul making the journey.
"Ya Zi, your endless mountain tours aren’t entirely useless. If this kidnapper plot is foiled, it’ll be a major merit on your part."
"Stop it, Landlord. I’ve been eyeing Mo Tingsheng’s pure Buddha energy for some time now. I’m just figuring out when to siphon it off to boost my incense offerings."
"We’ll talk about it when I get back." Zhou Xuan chastised him sharply.
At the central shoreline of the Baimei Mountain Reservoir,
dozens of men in suits had already gathered, standing in the formation of a peony flower.
At the heart of the "peony," a man was gazing up at the sky, an ancient copper dagger clutched in his hand.