Chapter 227: The Sword Is Drawn
The City God enshrined in the Yanzhi County City God Temple was named Shen Wen. In life, he had been the Censorate Grand Master of the Caiyi Kingdom, renowned throughout the court and countryside for his unwavering integrity, leaving behind the famous saying, "A loyal minister in life, an upright ghost in death." For three hundred years, his incense offerings had flourished.
Having visited the City God Temple once before with Xu Yuanxia and Zhang Shanfeng, Chen Ping'an knew the layout well. The Yanzhi County City God Temple had four halls. Two originally majestic painted clay statues of Heavenly Officials stood before the Ritual Gate, but now they were in a miserable state, infested with snakes and rats.
Chen Ping'an walked several dozen steps along the perimeter wall. Still no evil beings appeared on the temple square. He no longer hesitated and produced a Yang Qi Lantern-Lighting Talisman hidden in his sleeve. The yellow paper talisman paused an arm's length in front of him, gently fluttering. When Chen Ping'an took a step forward, it automatically began to drift slowly toward the Ritual Gate. Chen Ping'an felt greatly reassured. Though the temple had suffered disaster and the entire square was unrecognizable, the buildings behind the temple must still retain some lingering spiritual energy; otherwise, the Lantern-Lighting Talisman would not advance but would retreat toward the high walls.
The talisman emitted a faint, hazy yellow glow. Its pure radiance enveloped Chen Ping'an entirely. Wherever his feet passed, the five poisonous creatures—including centipedes and scorpions—scattered in all directions. As he passed through the Ritual Gate, the light ripples from the talisman seemed to touch the two Daoist Heavenly Official statues. The snakes, rats, and scorpions clinging to them all moved from the front to the back of the clay statues or hid inside their hollow abdomens.
Chen Ping'an held his breath and focused, continuing forward slowly. Beyond the Ritual Gate lay the main hall, hung with a gilded plaque. The deity enshrined in this hall was not the City God but a seated statue of a founding military merit of the Caiyi Kingdom, flanked by civil and military judges and eight subordinate officials. The plaque, personally inscribed by a former Caiyi emperor, had lost most of its gold paint. A large black snake as thick as a bowl's mouth coiled atop it, its body hanging down, its head thrust forward, hissing at Chen Ping'an with a forked tongue—a display of provocation and warning.
When Chen Ping'an stepped over the threshold, the black snake suddenly sprang at him, jaws wide. Without even raising his head, Chen Ping'an twisted his waist, sidestepped, and grabbed the snake's head with five fingers. A light flick of his wrist, and the creature went limp, boneless. He threw it aside; it landed heavily on the ground, already dead.
Chen Ping'an followed the wavering Lantern-Lighting Talisman onward. Past the main hall was another square, smaller in size, shaded by ancient trees. A stone stele stood there, engraved with the imperial edict of the Caiyi emperor appointing a City God for the kingdom. Back then, Chen Ping'an had stood before the stele for a long time, examining it, and finally concluded that the calligraphy was quite mediocre—even inferior to that of the young Cui Can.
It was fortunate that the Grand Li National Master, now renamed Cui Dongshan, was not nearby; otherwise, he would surely have been quite angry.
On the left and right of the square stood the God of Wealth Hall and the Tai Sui Hall. One was for burning incense and kowtowing, praying for abundant wealth; the other for venerating one's birth-year Tai Sui, hoping for safety from disasters. Commoners seemed to kowtow here with even greater devotion than in the main hall.
The Lantern-Lighting Talisman flew straight ahead, and Chen Ping'an followed closely without pausing.
Suddenly, Chen Ping'an turned his head sharply. On the tall stele beneath the ancient cypress, a white shadow seemed to flicker and vanish.
From the God of Wealth Hall and Tai Sui Hall on either side came the faint, indistinct voices of women, extremely soft, as if teasing each other. Behind their coquettishness lurked a chilling coldness, like female ghosts from the underworld speaking to the mortal world. The laughter seeped through the boundary between yin and yang, filtering through the windows of the two halls, shrouded by the shade of ancient trees, and entering the square. But diluted by the sparse sunlight, it melted like snow, though still reaching Chen Ping'an's ears.
Chen Ping'an frowned but turned and continued forward.
Just a dozen more steps, and he would enter the main hall of the City God Temple, the City God Hall enshrining the former Censorate Grand Master Shen Wen.
Apart from the twin swords in the wooden case—currently only for show—the two flying swords in the sword-nurturing gourd were his absolute main force besides his fist techniques.
Among his external aids, besides the Yang Qi Lantern-Lighting Talisman, he also had two golden-material Pagoda Demon-Suppressing Talismans, which he had drawn on the spot after eliminating the copper coin yin object inside the oil-paper umbrella in the ancient residence, fearing unexpected trouble. Later, in his battle with the Guyu Kingdom tree demon surnamed Chu, he hadn't had a chance to use them before Chuyi and Shiwu killed the ancient elm incarnation with two sword strikes.
He also had one remaining Yang Qi Lantern-Lighting Talisman and three Earth-Shrinking Talismans, the latter mainly used in conjunction with the Godly Man Beating Drum Style. Of course, for fleeing for life, they were no less effective than the Divine Travel Talisman lent to him by the Daoist Zhang Shanfeng.
At the moment Chen Ping'an turned his head.
On top of the stele, a woman in white appeared, sitting on its summit. Her hair was disheveled, strands of black covering her face, making her features unclear.
But she extended a finger—only withered bone, no flesh—and tapped the top of the stele. Instantly, a spring of blood gushed forth, flowing downward. Soon, the thousand-odd characters of the ancient stele inscription became like a bloody letter.
Strangely, the woman's white clothes remained spotless, not touched by a single drop of blood.
She lifted her head—still covered by black hair—and began to sing softly. It was an ancient folk song, perhaps long lost in the Caiyi Kingdom. Humming tunefully, the white-clad woman raised an arm, extending two bony fingers to twist a lock of her hair, gently swaying. Her feet were bare, a mix of bone and flesh—more flesh than her fingers—dangling and splashing up sprays of blood from the stele.
Unlike the blurred laughter from the two side halls, the woman's song was clear and distinct. The ancient cypress overhead rustled in the wind, as if harmonizing with her.
Seeming to reach a happy part, the woman raised a withered palm and turned it gently.
The closed doors of the God of Wealth Hall and Tai Sui Hall on both sides slammed open. From each, a man staggered out. The man from the God of Wealth Hall was young, one arm severed at the shoulder and missing, but the wound had clotted. With his remaining hand, he dragged a blue-edged longsword, his face pale, eyes lifeless.
The man from the Tai Sui Hall, middle-aged in a blue robe, drooped his head and limped across the threshold. Upon closer inspection, someone had slashed his neck with a sharp weapon; his head was only attached by a bit of skin and flesh.
As the white-clad woman on the stele turned her wrist, the two staggering men suddenly became agile and nimble, beginning to dance in the square. It turned out that from the tips of her withered fingers hung translucent threads, like white spider silk, entangling the limbs of the two dead men, controlling their every minute movement.
From the two open halls, white-clad women continued to emerge, trailing thick black smoke, quickly drifting near the doorways. They stared at the men, giggling, full of mockery and hatred. But the sunlight outside was like a natural moat, preventing them from easily crossing. Still, four or five of them could not restrain themselves, surging out with gusts of black smoke, spinning around the corpses of the two men, using their fingers to stroke their pale faces, circling behind them, darting up from under their armpits. But for this momentary pleasure, they paid the price: exposed to the sun, they completely dissipated into smoke.
Chen Ping'an stood outside the threshold of the main hall. The Yang Qi Lantern-Lighting Talisman seemed to hit a wall, colliding and wobbling repeatedly, unable to advance.
The yang qi contained in the yellow paper talisman gradually faded.
Chen Ping'an reached out his hand; his palm felt like it was pressed against a layer of ice on a winter river. He applied a bit more force, but still could not break through.
He brought two fingers together, turned around, and suddenly twisted his wrist. The Lantern-Lighting Talisman, with little spiritual qi left, shot swiftly toward the square, circled once above the heads of the two puppet corpses, and the two men crashed heavily to the ground with a loud slap. The threads on their bodies snapped one by one, and blood flowed from the bodies.
The white-clad woman withdrew her hand, showing no anger. But the women inside the two halls brandished their claws, staring at Chen Ping'an with deep-seated hatred in their eyes.
Once one falls into an evil ghost, no matter how merciful one's heart in life, there is no trace of the Confucian philosopher Mencius's belief that human nature is good—drawing water with a bamboo basket, in the end not a drop remains.
Such is the unseen will of heaven.
Chen Ping'an looked at the woman's back on the stele and said quietly, "Miss, the dead are to be respected. Whatever grievances you may have had in life, can't you just let it go?"
The white-clad woman turned a deaf ear and continued singing. This time, she used the elegant speech of the Bottle Gourd Continent, so Chen Ping'an understood.
"Body like withered bones, heart like dead ashes... Truly knowing the reality, not prideful of old knowledge. Dull and dim, mindless and cannot be consulted. Who is that person..."
Her tone was calm, even carrying a hint of serene peace, with no trace of resentment or hatred.
Chen Ping'an understood the words roughly but could not grasp the deeper meaning.
He had no mind to speculate on such matters now. The main hall of the City God Temple was isolated from the outside by some spell. Probably the City God was detained inside, unable to patrol the county and help Yanzhi County survive the impending catastrophe.
Inside the hall behind Chen Ping'an was the City God Hall, enshrining three statues, including that of City God Shen Wen. Shen Wen's statue was over three zhang tall, forcing worshippers to look up. The civil and military statues flanking him were also two zhang tall, holding an iron mace and an official seal respectively.
Rumor had it that two hundred years ago, a Daoist surnamed Zhang from another continent traveled here and was moved by Yanzhi County's simple folk customs. After returning home, the current Celestial Master of Longhu Mountain bestowed a seal—the "Seal of the City God of Yanzhi County, Caiyi Kingdom, Manifesting Aid." Only then did people learn that the young Daoist had been a Yellow-Purple Honored Guest of the Celestial Master Mansion of Longhu Mountain. This story was known throughout half the continent. Commoners said that the illustrious gold seal was secretly treasured in the Caiyi Kingdom's national treasury.
Inside the hall was also a huge mural, painted with eighty-one beauties with flowing sleeves.
Posterity praised it as "ink colors as if alive, breath as if living."
Seeing that the white-clad woman remained indifferent, Chen Ping'an said no more. He quietly patted the sword-nurturing gourd at his waist.
Then he turned and threw a punch at the layer of "ice." Ripples spread across it, and the three statues inside the threshold of the City God Hall seemed to tremble.
Chen Ping'an began to walk slowly in the six-step stance, punching the ice one by one—the Godly Man Beating Drum Style.
Of course, he also had to be wary of the woman on the stele suddenly attacking.
A sigh came from atop a towering ancient tree—a young girl's voice. "Fool, that's a formation set up by two fifth-realm grandmasters. Even my master can't break it easily. That's why the City God can't get out. You, a mere martial artist, think you can hammer it apart? Save your strength. While that female ghost hasn't taken a liking to killing you yet, leave this place quickly. Otherwise, the next time a fool barges in, you'll be a dancing marionette."
Probably because Chen Ping'an's punches seemed too "casual," they displayed no power at all, making the strange girl hiding in the tree look down on him.
After his battle with Ma Kuxuan on the small street, Chen Ping'an's fist intent had become even more restrained. His practice stances were slower, more in line with the concept of "gentle nurturing." Ordinary low-level martial artists who practiced external boxing and ended up "attracting evil ghosts" did so because they lacked proper technique and never entered the hall of true mastery. The more diligently they practiced, the more they harmed their physique and spirit.
But although Chen Ping'an's stances were slow, the speed of his qi circulation during the Sword Furnace standing stance had increased manifold. If before it was like ordinary relay station messages, now it was an eight-hundred-li urgent dispatch.
This subtle state of "drawing in" could only be recognized by solid sixth- or seventh-realm martial arts masters.
The white-clad woman suddenly stopped singing, turned her head, and fixed her gaze on Chen Ping'an's eighteenth punch.
One punch landed, and it was like a great bell tolling. The qi of the entire square shook explosively. The stele, its inscription soaked in blood, began to crack with a grinding sound.
She screamed—a piercing sound—and like a general issuing orders, the floating women in the two halls transformed into two streams of dense black smoke. One merged into the ice layer, using their residual yin spirit souls to reinforce the filthy formation. The other shot straight at Chen Ping'an, trying desperately to interrupt his continuous fist intent, preventing him from delivering the nineteenth punch of the Godly Man Beating Drum Style.
"You reckless idiot, you've killed me! If I die here today, when we walk the Yellow Springs Road together, I'll curse you to death... even dead... I'm not dead yet, and I'm already annoyed to death!"
From the top of the ancient tree, after finishing her angry complaint, the girl hesitated no longer. A graceful figure shot out, producing a series of crisp, jingling sounds. Rings of pale golden flowers blossomed around her body, her movements so elegant they were a pleasure to behold.
The face hidden beneath the white-clad woman's thick black hair twisted into a slight smirk, her eyes coldly mocking.
She lightly clapped her two bony palms together.
Inside the main hall of the City God Temple, the civil and military statues serving the City God creaked and groaned as if coming to life, shaking off huge clouds of dust. At the same time, they stepped off the altar, their feet crashing onto the blue stone floor. The two two-zhang-tall clay statues then charged toward the threshold. The statue holding the iron mace brought it down directly at the sword-bearing youth's head. The other, holding a fine iron official seal, crossed the threshold without hesitation and swung the huge iron seal at the girl.
Breaking the formation should have freed the City God—that would have been the logical outcome. But who would have thought the real killing intent was not in the square outside the City God Hall, not from the eerie white-clad woman, but inside the City God Hall, the very source of hope? And where had the City God Shen Wen, who should have possessed a divine golden body, gone?
Inside the City God Hall, the central statue—the most imposing and majestic—had originally been resplendent with golden light. Now it was dull and dark, covered with golden debris scattered on the floor. Only in its eyes remained a faint glimmer of golden light. No native of Yanzhi County would believe this was the "Golden City God" they prided themselves on.
According to county records, nearly a hundred taels of gold leaf had been used to gild that statue. The county magistrate of that generation, after begging and pleading with the local nobles and wealthy merchants, had raised the funds and even inscribed a stele of benefactors, recording the names and families of all who contributed.
The main deity statue, with less than a tenth of its gold leaf remaining, spoke with difficulty in a hoarse voice that reached the threshold. "You two, leave quickly! These evil demons and heretics from unknown origins are numerous. This is just one white-clad ghost. If you can escape with your lives, you must find the immortal masters of the Shengao Sect or the gentlemen and sages of the Guanhu Academy. Tell them the Caiyi Kingdom faces great disaster. If the kingdom falls, the six surrounding nations, including the Guyu Kingdom, will not be spared!"
It turned out that this City God Temple, meant to protect the county's people, was like a clay Bodhisattva crossing a river—it could barely save itself.
Outside the main hall's threshold,
first, the girl with silver bells on her arms and ankles helped block the black smoke for Chen Ping'an. Where the four bells rang, countless pale golden flowers bloomed dazzlingly, slicing the fierce black smoke to pieces. But the girl was struck by wisps of chaotic black smoke in several places, vomiting blood. Still, she stubbornly refused to retreat, standing near that reckless fool, shaking her wrists, the bells jingling, golden petals whirling, gradually dissolving the black smoke mixed with wails.
Chen Ping'an, calm and composed, delivered his nineteenth punch.
Then the remaining black smoke madly surged into the "ice" isolating the main hall, helping the formation bear the accumulated power of the nineteenth punch of the Godly Man Beating Drum Style.
Then the two "mutinous" clay statues—one swung an iron mace at Chen Ping'an's head, the other aimed an iron official seal at the girl's head from behind.
Chen Ping'an remained unruffled. With lightning speed, he threw his twentieth punch, causing the formation to shudder violently. Though not yet broken, it was tottering, needing only one more punch. But Chen Ping'an knew helplessly that he could not deliver the twenty-first punch of the Godly Man Beating Drum Style. However, he could not stand by and watch the girl be crushed under the seal of the civil official statue charging out of the threshold. Otherwise, he might have had a chance to throw that final punch.
The stone slabs beneath Chen Ping'an's feet shattered. He vanished instantly, dodging the iron mace crashing down from the military statue. In a flash, he appeared at the side of the civil official statue and, using the Iron Cavalry Breaching Formation Style, punched it in the waist. This punch was to save a life, so Chen Ping'an dared not hold anything back. As he struck, his arm was wreathed in pure white fist intent, fist energy surging, faintly accompanied by rolling wind and thunder.
The two-zhang-tall clay statue was actually knocked sideways by Chen Ping'an's single blow, its feet plowing a furrow across the ground.
The girl heard the commotion behind her and turned to roughly guess what had happened. When she looked at the unremarkable youth with the wooden case on his back, her eyes went dazed.
Chen Ping'an paid no attention to her thoughts. He shook his arms, as if preparing to throw another punch, but actually slid two golden Pagoda Demon-Suppressing Talismans from his sleeves, secretly sticking them to his palms. The military statue, having missed with its mace, shattered the ground where it struck. It straightened and swung the mace at Chen Ping'an again. On his journey south, Chen Ping'an had practiced slow fist stances countless times, but when he needed to be fast—
He was truly fast!
The iron mace missed again. Chen Ping'an, somehow already in front of the military statue, tapped his toes, leaped up, and slammed his palm onto the statue's forehead.
Brilliant golden light!
Around the military clay statue, a golden pagoda slightly taller and larger appeared out of thin air, lightning flashing like swimming dragons.
The statue seemed to be "enshrined" within that pagoda.
How it felt for the statue was evident from the inch-by-inch shattering of its massive body. No matter how it struggled, how it swung its mace and pounded, the Pagoda Demon-Suppressing Talisman firmly suppressed it.
After unleashing the first golden Pagoda Demon-Suppressing Talisman, Chen Ping'an used his feet to push off the military statue's chest, rebounding with momentum. In another flash, he moved even faster, appearing before the civil official statue that was rapidly charging at the girl. With another slap, he affixed the golden talisman onto the fine iron official seal.
The towering statue seemed like a mountain pressing down, its knees bending, debris falling from the joints, nearly stumbling.
Chen Ping'an's feet still hadn't touched the ground. After unleashing the golden-light talisman, he continued to rise, stepped on the statue's head, and looked toward the white-clad woman standing atop the stele. The two faced off.
Without any pause, Chen Ping'an, as if riding the wind, charged toward the stele under the ancient cypress. In midair, he reached out and lightly tapped the wooden sword case.
"Exorcise demons!"
The locust wood sword shot out of the case, and Chen Ping'an grasped it with one hand.
One sword strike.
Finished in one smooth motion—somewhat elegant.