Chapter 92: This Venerable One Returns to Butterfly Town

The entire hall stood in shock at these words, and the Bitan Manor

disciples looked as if they had been struck by lightning.

In the cultivation world, average cultivators memorized spells,

superior cultivators understood them, and exceptional cultivators adapted

them. But far above the average, the superior, and the exceptional lay still

another tier of cultivators—those who had no need for memorization, who

had long since understood, and who were unsatisfied with adaptation. Those

who had grasped the final step: creation.

These were the masters who refined unique pills and elixirs, the

experts who crafted unparalleled arms and armor, the geniuses who drafted

unprecedented spells and talismans—those whose skill commanded the title

of "zongshi."

To common cultivators, these zongshi were little more than a name on

a scroll, or perhaps a seal on a magical treasure. The young disciples from

Bitan Manor never imagined that the man they had brazenly attempted to

arrest and drag to Tianyin Pavilion for interrogation was one such godlike

individual.

Li Wuxin's forehead was covered in a sheen of cold sweat, but as the

sect's leader, he had no choice but to put up a bold front and persevere. He

squeezed out a smile, his waxy yellow face the color of rice hulls gleaming

with grease. "What a coincidence that the Sigil of the Returning Billows was

created by Chu-zongshi himself. This one has truly…ah ha ha, truly

underestimated Chu-zongshi. However, while confronting the vengeful ghost

of Luo Xianxian at Butterfly Town, I obtained yet another item. I wonder if

this too might have some relation to Chu-zongshi."

Chu Wanning knitted his brows. "What item?"

Li Wuxin waved his hand, and Disciple Very Smart swiftly brought

over a brocade box. "A weapon."

Chu Wanning gazed silently at the box for a spell. "Is it a willow

vine?"

This time, everyone's eyes, including Mo Ran's, widened in disbelief.

"H-how did you know…" Li Wuxin's voice shook as he spoke.

"Unless it really was you, but…what's going on here?!"

A golden light burst to life in Chu Wanning's palm, lengthening inch by

inch until it coiled on the floor. As the glow dimmed, a length of willow

vine, its delicate leaves unfurled, materialized before the onlookers. Chu

Wanning was unfazed. By now, he was already certain that the incident at

Butterfly Town was perpetrated by the same mysterious individual they'd

encountered at Jincheng Lake and Peach Blossom Springs. "Li-zhuangzhu, the

weapon in the box is this one, is it not?"

"Y-yes." Li Wuxin's voice sputtered and nearly gave out on him.

The brocade box was opened. Inside was indeed a length of willow

vine, identical to the one in Chu Wanning's hand in every way.

Chu Wanning narrowed his eyes. His suspicions had already been

roused when that fake Jiangui that was used to kill the people of the feathered

tribe and frame Mo Ran had appeared at Peach Blossom Springs. This

confirmed them. "Li-zhuangzhu, may I have a look?"

Li Wuxin mulled it over. Things weren't exactly going his way right

now, and it'd be inadvisable to offend Chu Wanning further. After a moment's

consideration, he said, "Chu-zongshi is too courteous. I'm only here to

inquire about the situation in the first place. Please look all you want—why

should I ever refuse? I'd be only too thrilled to get your thoughts."

Chang-gongzi, for his part, was rather less than thrilled. He'd come to

Sisheng Peak to pick a fight and had spent a small fortune securing Bitan

Manor's support. What was this damnable old fart playing at? Was he really

going to switch sides after facing a little pushback? Chang-gongzi threw

pointed look after pointed look at Li Wuxin, until eventually each one was an

angry glare.

Li Wuxin paid him no heed, but Mo Ran noticed those looks from

where he stood on the side. "Chang-gongzi," he said mockingly, "are your

eyes okay? You seem to be squinting them quite a lot."

Meanwhile, Chu Wanning had taken the willow vine from the box and

was now examining it closely. Sure enough, although it was no different from

Tianwen and Jiangui in appearance, its life force was exceedingly weak, far

weaker than that of a holy weapon with a master. This was clearly a dead

thing. "Heart-Pluck Willow…"

Xue Meng had keen ears, and when these words reached them, he

froze. "What?"

"This vine, and the ones used to kill the feathered tribe back at Peach

Blossom Springs as well—they were all broken off the Heart-Pluck

Willow," Chu Wanning replied.

"Ah!" Shi Mei cried out in surprise. "So that's what it is?"

"Before the old dragon passed at Jincheng Lake, he said the fake

Gouchen employed a certain spell that required a strong wood elemental

spirit to maintain. It's likely that he took some branches from the holy tree

before destroying Jincheng Lake. Although their spiritual power will

gradually fade with the death of the holy tree, they should still be sufficient

for his purposes for some time."

Chu Wanning's slender fingers traced the golden leaves on the vine in

his hand. "Even the branches that have been practically depleted of spiritual

power have not gone to waste—he has used them either as false evidence to

frame others, or distributed them to his puppeteered pawns as weapons."

As he spoke, a flame kindled to life in his hand. He held that vine that

was the mirror image of Tianwen to the fire, and it caught instantly, its blaze

reflected in the shocked and stupefied eyes of the onlookers.

"This is not my weapon." Chu Wanning let the fire lick all the way up

to the tip of the branch before closing his palm around the flame,

extinguishing it. He tossed the scorched willow vine aside and said mildly,

"Tianwen is possessed of abundant spiritual energy. Even Samadhi True

Fire

2

 couldn't hope to burn it, much less an ordinary fire spell such as this."

Li Wuxin opened his mouth, then closed it. But in the end, he refused to

back down so easily, and opened it again. "I, too, have heard about this

incident at Peach Blossom Springs. Word has it that Sisheng Peak's Mogongzi murdered the Great Immortal Lord of the feathered tribe."

"Oi, I didn't kill anyone." Mo Ran raised his hands defensively.

Xue Zhengyong, visibly displeased, was unyielding on this matter. "As

I've already explained to the other sects, this was not my nephew's doing. Lizhuangzhu, the next time you bring it up, I won't be so polite."

His reaction seemed to stir some memory in Mo Ran's mind. He

stilled, and a flicker of something indiscernible flashed through those

habitually smiling eyes. "Uncle…" he muttered.

"The incident at Peach Blossom Springs was a set-up," said Chu

Wanning. "The situation was chaotic, and I was afforded no opportunity to

defend my disciple's innocence. But, today, since Bitan Manor has come all

this way seeking the truth, I will certainly tell you the whole tale."

In the wavering candlelight of the lamps, Chu Wanning offered a

concise summary of the events of Jincheng Lake and Peach Blossom Springs.

By the time he finished, the disciples of Bitan Manor were stunned

speechless, and Li Wuxin was sweating so profusely that his clothes were

soaked through. He dithered for a while, then asked, "Does Chu-zongshi

mean to say there's someone in the world at this very moment who has

mastered one of the three forbidden techniques, the Zhenlong Chess

Formation?"

"That is correct."

"But how can that be?! It's a forbidden technique! E-even the leader of

the Rufeng Sect, first in the cultivation world, would be hard-pressed to

acquire the scroll for such a thing—"

Chu Wanning cut him off. "I have spoken nothing but the truth. Whether

you believe or not is up to you."

"Impossible." Li Wuxin insisted, his face pale. He guffawed loudly

through trembling lips, as if by doing so he could convince himself this was

an unfortunate joke. "If there's really someone out there who has mastered the

Zhenlong Chess Formation, the world will be thrown into disarray.

Everything in the upper and lower cultivation realms alike is in danger of

being rewritten!"

Ex-Emperor Taxian-jun was a little miffed. "That guy only knows it, he

hasn't 'mastered' it. If he had, would things still be so peaceful now?"

Li Wuxin's whiskers quivered, and he had just opened his mouth to

retort when a sword flashed in through the door. A Bitan disciple, clothes

bloody, stumbled off it. The disciple coughed up a mouthful of blood before

raising his tear-streaked face to Li Wuxin.

"Zhuangzhu," he cried, "it's terrible! The barrier you erected around

Butterfly Town has shattered! Vicious spirits rushed out, and my seniors used

their own bodies to block the spirits' escape, but my shixiong…all thirty of

them who were guarding the barrier…sacrificed themselves to hold back the

ghosts. Only I was left to bring the news…" He drew in deep, shuddering

breaths, then raised his voice in a piteous wail. "Zhuangzhu! Hurry—notify

all the sects of the upper cultivation realm! Every dead soul in that town is

being controlled! It's a forbidden technique! A forbidden technique!"

"What?!" Li Wuxin stumbled backward into a pillar, as pale and

haggard as a corpse dumped from its coffin.

"There's no way we can hold them off by ourselves…" The disciple

wept miserably, his tears washing the blood from his face. "Zhuangzhu!" He

suddenly noticed Xue Zhengyong, and turned to grovel toward him as well.

"Xue-zhangmen, I'm begging, please come too! All of my shixiong… I…

how can I face them…" He rambled incoherently for a few more seconds,

then closed his eyes and howled at the sky in grief. "They're all…they're all

dead!"

The hall was deathly silent for a beat. Then it burst into an uproar.

Xue Zhengyong was ever level-headed in the face of disaster. He

immediately directed Madam Wang to send messages to the remaining eight

great sects of the upper cultivation realm, and put Xue Meng in charge of

gathering the elders.

"Chu Wanning?" Xue Zhengyong turned to him next.

"There's no time to waste. I'll go first."

"But you don't know how to ride swords…"

Before Chu Wanning could reply, Mo Ran rushed over, eager to meet

this so-called master of Zhenlong Chess Formation. "Don't worry, Uncle, I'll

take Shizun."

Chu Wanning cast him a glance but said nothing—silent assent.

The two strode out of the hall side by side. Shi Mei stood frozen in

place for a long moment, face pale, before snapping out of it and saying, "Mme too…"

But by the time he ran outside Loyalty Hall, they were gone.

Xue Zhengyong called him back and told him not to run off alone. All Shi

Mei could do was go after Xue Meng and wait to leave with the second

group.

As for Bitan Manor, Li Wuxin had lived his life in luxury—never once

had he run into anything as big as this. But the old fart still wanted to save

face. He drew in a deep breath to collect himself, then set about giving

instructions. He had someone care for the messenger disciple and others

contact the elders of his own sect, gathering his forces in hopes of making a

good showing at Butterfly Town and thereby regaining some dignity.

The assembly set off from Sisheng Peak in force, rushing across the

sky toward Butterfly Town like hundreds of shooting stars. From where Li

Wuxin stood on his sword at the head of the fleet as they flew through the

clouds, he couldn't resist stealing a sidelong glance at the disciples of the

foremost sect of the lower cultivation realm. Never had he expected to one

day march into battle alongside such riffraff, the very people he had looked

down upon all his life. For a moment, his feelings were rather complicated.

Traveling by swift sword, the group traversed a thousand miles in a blink.

Soon the clouds before them parted to reveal a stream of bloody demonic

light shooting straight up toward the sky, and Li Wuxin had no more thought to

spare for matters of the upper or lower cultivation realm.

Floating in midair was an enormous, glimmering array of crimson light

the length and breadth of the town itself, delineated neatly into the checkered

squares of a chessboard. On that chessboard, like so many carved figurines,

hovered the silhouettes of the dead townsfolk: five hundred households, over

one thousand souls, hanging in the air like a dense forest of human flesh.

Li Wuxin cried out despite himself. "I-it really is…Zhenlong Chess

Formation!"

Xue Zhengyong, his expression dark, turned to the Bitan Manor leader.

"Li-zhuangzhu, I'll take my people to the southeast side, but we'll have to

trouble you to handle the northwest. We must hold out till the other sects

arrive."

There were more pressing matters at hand than Xue Zhengyong's

presumptuous use of we, so Li Wuxin merely nodded. "Got it, got it."

Xue Zhengyong cupped his fist in his hand respectfully, then led the

disciples of Sisheng Peak out of the clouds to alight on the southeast side of

Butterfly Town. The defensive barrier that Bitan Manor's disciples had bled

and died for was nigh on the verge of collapse, the field of its spiritual

energy weakening by the minute. Beyond the translucent barrier roamed

masses of walking corpses.

"Chu Wanning!" Xue Zhengyong caught sight of a man standing before

the barrier in fluttering white robes beside a figure in silver-blue light armor.

"What's the matter?" he called out. "Is the barrier irreparable?"

Chu Wanning had been on the scene for some time. The number one

zongshi of barriers was standing right there—Xue Zhengyong couldn't

understand why this one was still in such a sorry state. But his calls raised no

response. Xue Zhengyong was about to try again when Mo Ran turned and

gestured for him to be silent. "Uncle, shh. Come over here."

Xue Zhengyong walked over. "What is it?"

"Don't disturb him." Mo Ran pointed at Chu Wanning. Although he

stood straight and tall, his eyes were closed and his palms were pressed

together before his chest, his lips completely colorless.

Xue Zhengyong started. He reached out to feel for a pulse at the side of

Chu Wanning's neck, then asked in alarm, "Soul Projection?"

"Yeah. It's all ghosts in there, a couple thousand of them. But we

couldn't find Luo Xianxian, so she's probably farther into town. We don't

know what's happening yet, or what that guy is plotting, so he went to ask

Luo Xianxian."

"The girl is already a vicious ghost gone berserk! What's there to

ask!" Xue Zhengyong smacked his own thigh in anger. "Reinforcing the

barrier is more important right now!"

"Don't!" Mo Ran said sharply. "Shizun temporarily cast his soul out

using Soul Projection precisely because it's all dead people in there. This

way, he can slip in without alerting the enemy. If we reinforce the barrier

now, he'll be killed!"

"What?!" Xue Zhengyong exclaimed, panicked. "Stay right here and

keep an eye on him; I'll go tell Li Wuxin!"

Mo Ran nodded. "I'll send up a blue signal as soon as Shizun's soul

returns; then we can start mending the barrier from all directions. But before

that, Uncle, you must under no circumstances allow them to mend it. If they

do, the thousands of ghosts will go into a frenzy. Shizun is just a bodiless

soul in there; he won't be able to defend himself."

"I know! I know already!" Before he'd even finished his reply,

Xue Zhengyong had already sped away toward Li Wuxin.

Mo Ran raised his eyes to look at that barrier on the brink of failure.

"We're running out of time." Mo Ran turned and spoke to him in a low

voice. "You must have found Luo Xianxian by now, right, Shizun?" In his

worry, Mo Ran reached out without thinking to close his warm hand around

Chu Wanning's ice-cold one. "Just a little longer…"

It was then that Shi Mei touched down nearby with Xue Meng and the

rest. When he looked up from the crowd, he was greeted by the unexpected

sight of the pair before the barrier, hands entwined. He froze, and the color

drained from his face. He bit down on his lip and slowly turned his head

away.