Xiao Nanhui had once heard that in the southeastern Flower Province, there was a folk performance of great renown. It was said that a performer on stage could change through three or four different faces in the blink of an eye, a spectacle of incredible skill.
She had long yearned to see it, but because Flower Province had always been peaceful, she had never had the opportunity to accompany the army there to witness it for herself.
Now, the scene before her eyes made her feel that there was no longer any need to make the arduous journey to Flower Province.
Looking at those young men and women who, just a moment ago, had been expressions of pious devotion, and who were now killers with weapons in hand and numb gazes—she reckoned no face-changing trick could be faster than the one she was witnessing.
Ding Weixiang glanced around and asked casually, "Which side are you taking?"
Xiao Nanhui looked at the old woman on her right, then at the row of fierce-looking adolescents on her left. She very consciously shifted her steps toward the right.
Just as she finished moving, the old woman reached back toward the bamboo basket on her shoulders, grasping the "walking stick" she had been carrying and pulling it out.
As the other end of the "stick" emerged from the basket, Xiao Nanhui’s eyes widened.
It wasn't a walking stick at all, but a massive scythe. The blade was as bright as a new moon on a clear night, and the spine of the blade was engraved with ancient characters that looked like sinister veins, appearing utterly malevolent.
Recalling the woman’s earlier comment about "such a large head," Xiao Nanhui felt a sudden, involuntary shiver.
How many heads had those hands touched, and how many had they harvested?
She immediately retraced the steps she had just taken and patted Ding Weixiang on the shoulder with great solemnity.
"I have a soft heart and truly cannot bear to mistreat the elderly. You take this one."
The moment she spoke, the familiar sound of whistling air rose from all sides, sounding as if a swarm of bats had suddenly burst from the mountain. Then, a barrage of silver wires shrieked toward her, forcing her back several steps until she barely steadied herself at the edge of the stone stairs.
Once is a surprise, twice is familiar, and by the third or fourth time, one becomes desensitized.
She turned her head, intending to give Su Wei a few words of caution, only to find that he had already found a spot out of the way.
"You two go ahead. I will just watch."
How sensible.
Xiao Nanhui smiled, but before she could finish her amusement, she was interrupted by a head-on assault.
The skills of these youths were still somewhat green compared to the ones she had encountered in Huo Province and Lingxi, but they had the advantage of numbers. Furthermore, this cavern was an enclosed space, making any attempt to dodge or flee extremely limited.
An ordinary person would have been hacked to pieces within three rounds of such an onslaught, but how many in this cave were ordinary?
Xiao Nanhui parried and countered, beginning to mentally record the variations in their techniques and footwork.
Her previous battles had been too urgent and rushed for her to calmly study her opponents; now, she finally had an opportunity.
Whether it was Puhuna’s flying wires or the scythe in the old woman’s hands, the unique techniques of the Shen family focused exclusively on the head.
Back in the northern marshes, she had seen the head of the Xiong clan leader, Xiong Bingnan, being severed.
Martial arts styles were infinitely varied, and targeting vital points was the foundation of defeating an enemy. Anything above the neck was considered a vital area, so attacking there wasn't inherently strange. However, if every single move was aimed at decapitation, it became eerie.
But considering the entire Shen family’s pursuit of the absurd notion of immortality, the reason wasn't hard to grasp. Since ancient times, people believed the path for the soul to enter and exit was through the top of the head, and decapitation was the fastest way to sever a person’s spiritual ties. That night in the traveling palace, she had encountered a palace attendant who didn't even notice when she kicked and broke his bones, only stopping his attack after Ding Weixiang severed his hands. Was this Shen family killing method developed specifically to deal with such enemies?
As she pondered, the sky-filling silver wires wove into a net, descending to pin her to the ground and rend her into pieces.
When dealing with these wires, the greatest danger was the enemy forming a formation. Once the formation was set, breaking out became incredibly difficult.
She lunged left and dodged right, constantly parrying with her dagger, but she was hampered by the short reach of her weapon. Before long, her clothes were torn in several places. Fortunately, she had learned her lesson and was wearing soft armor beneath her robes, so she hadn't yet shed blood.
Seeing her agility, the youths changed their formation, constantly cutting off her retreat and trying to force her into a dead end by the stone stairs.
Though Xiao Nanhui’s martial arts might not have been the most refined, she was a veteran of a hundred battles. After a few exchanges, she understood their intent and felt as if she had returned to her childhood in the military camps.
Back then, she was a girl and small for her age, often surrounded and beaten by Xu Shu and his gang of boys.
There was an unwritten rule in group fights: pick the softest target to squeeze. She used to be the one being squeezed; now, it was finally her turn to do the squeezing.
Dashing past a wire flying at her face, she twisted her body and kicked off the rock wall. With a burst of power, she dodged a wave of wire attacks in mid-air and lunged straight for Shen Linlin in the center of the pool.
Shen Linlin had been enjoying the spectacle and clearly hadn't expected the enemy to target him so suddenly. He hurriedly drew his weapon to meet her. This was exactly the moment Xiao Nanhui was waiting for.
As she landed, she deliberately kicked a spray of stone fragments toward Shen Linlin’s face. An experienced warrior who had faced death would never close their eyes to dodge such a thing; they would use their weapon to break the feint.
But Shen Linlin was clearly still green and a child who couldn't handle setbacks. In his annoyance, he raised his sleeve to block. In that split-second opening, he felt his wrist go numb. When he turned around, his whip was already in the woman’s hand.
"What are you looking at? I'm stealing it from you."
Xiao Nanhui delivered a solid punch to his face, and Shen Linlin collapsed straight back.
With the whip in hand, her confidence surged. Shen Linlin’s whip was clearly made from some specially tanned animal hide, capable of resisting the indestructible silver wires. She could finally stretch her limbs, and her moves became broad and powerful. She coiled the whip around an arm here and a leg there, specifically targeting the lower bodies of the less skilled young assassins, knocking them down one by one.
On the other side, Ding Weixiang had also gained the upper hand, forcing the old woman into a corner. Though the old woman looked disheveled, her expression held no fear, and her moves were filled with ruthless killing intent. Seizing a gap between exchanges, she shot a look toward Shen Yangyang by the pool. Shen Yangyang finally left the coffin, drew a dagger to slice her palm, and used the blood to draw a sigil on the bell at her waist.
Accompanied by a continuous, haunting ringing of the bell, countless hair-thin, soft shadows surged from the contours of the stone wall. It was as if the darkness had grown tentacles, which spread rapidly across the ground toward Xiao Nanhui and the others.
Xiao Nanhui used the tip of her whip to snag the nearest brazier and hurl it. As the burning oil spilled and sparks exploded on the ground, she finally saw the true nature of the "black hair."
They were tiny black snakes with pointed heads, soft, bulging bellies, and bright red tails. She had traveled through many deep forests and seen many venomous insects and snakes, but she had never heard of or seen this kind. Judging by their bizarre appearance, it was best not to let them get anywhere near her.
Rather than dealing with the snakes, it was better to deal with the one ringing the bell—Shen Yangyang.
However, the elder sister was clearly not as easy to handle as the brother. She was supple and agile, occupying the high ground and waiting for her opportunity. Countless small snakes protected her, making it impossible to get close.
The tide of snakes was closing in. Xiao Nanhui flew to Su Wei’s side. The snakes seemed wary of the aura he carried and did not dare approach. But as Shen Yangyang’s bell-ringing grew more frantic, she knew this stalemate wouldn't last long.
She grabbed the man around the waist, lashed her whip around a massive brazier hanging from the ceiling, and used the momentum to fly toward the stone wall behind the black pool.
The old woman nearby saw through her intent. With a flick of her scythe, she instantly severed Shen Linlin’s whip. Losing her tether prematurely, Xiao Nanhui and the man in her arms tumbled to the ground, nearly falling into a nest of snakes. She scrambled up and kicked over a nearby lamp-servant, using the fire to drive back the snakes, but it only bought them a moment’s respite.
She pulled Su Wei back against the stone wall, only then realizing that the wall was actually a massive stone door. The small snakes had been crawling out from the cracks in this door.
The stone door bore bas-relief carvings. Due to wear and tear, the details were indistinguishable from afar, but up close, some shapes were still visible. She suddenly noticed that in the center of the relief, there was a spot different from the rest—a small, recessed circular hole. She could vaguely see a sharp protrusion inside the hole that looked strangely familiar.
Just as she was about to lean in for a closer look, the man’s voice suddenly rang out.
"Don't touch it. It's poisoned."
She froze. Before she could react, a sudden wave of heat attacked from behind.
Relying on instinct, Xiao Nanhui shielded the man and rolled away. She thought someone had ambushed them with a torch, but when she looked back, there was no one there.
A streak of crimson flame was suspended in mid-air, like a serpent of fire, and the end of that serpent was connected to Shen Shian’s finger.
He had propped up his withered body and stood up from the crystal coffin. With his arms spread and fingers slightly splayed, an invisible force seemed to gather at his fingertips. The flames within the cavern seemed to answer his call; first as tiny sparks, then as elongated, twisting orange tongues, and finally becoming fire snakes that coiled around him.
The firelight illuminated the area around the black pool and revealed the full view of the mural on the massive stone door.
It was a giant, multi-eyed heavenly god, pressing one palm against the ground and looking down upon the mortal realm. The recessed hole was exactly one of the eyes in the center of its forehead.
Flames surged from all directions, spinning, twisting, and converging in a bizarre fashion before the door carved with the immortality sigils. They formed a massive, searing circle of reincarnation that hovered like a persistent nightmare, looking exactly like the scene depicted in the mural.
Another wave of heat rushed toward them. Xiao Nanhui leaped and tackled Su Wei, pinning him beneath her. The scorching heat swept over her back. she smelled the scent of singed hair and felt as if the fine hairs on the back of her neck had been burned away.
She didn't have time to check herself. She scrambled to shield the man beneath her in a recess beside the stone door, shouting to break the situation.
"What about the deal? Don't you want our bodies anymore?!"
Shen Shian stood atop the crystal coffin like a divine statue, his hands still manipulating the flames that seemed capable of devouring everything.
"I want you to stay, but I never said *how* you would stay. Wood becomes charcoal, charcoal becomes soil, and soil gives life to the forest. All things in this world cycle in such a way, and your lives are no different. If you can be kept whole, so be it; if not, it matters not. Better to become the peat on my path to longevity. A hundred years from now, you shall witness the prosperity and beauty of this world with me. How delightful!"
Shen Shian was mad.
And one cannot reason with a madman.
In the face of such a foe, the situation became instantly dire.
Ding Weixiang cut down the old woman with a single stroke. As he sought an opportunity to rush over, he shouted to Xiao Nanhui, "Find a way to get close to him!"
Get close to him? Why didn't he just say kill Shen Shian? If she could get close to Shen Shian, would she need him barking orders?
Xiao Nanhui was furious, but she knew there was no time to bicker with her own side. She kicked the head off a floor lamp-servant in the corner, broke off half the skull to use as a ladle, crawled to the edge of the black pool, scooped up a large amount of the liquid, and hurled it violently at Shen Shian.
"The weather is dry; let me cool your fire!"
She knew it was like trying to put out a forest fire with a cup of water, but they were at a critical moment of life and death. Every second bought was a second earned.
The ladleful of liquid hit Shen Shian from head to toe without a drop wasted. Simultaneously, a pungent odor filled the air. Before she could react, a massive wave of heat exploded from the front, knocking her backward onto the ground.
With her ears ringing, Xiao Nanhui staggered to her feet. She saw Shen Shian engulfed in blue flames. His figure distorted in the high heat, and his aged, shrill voice roared and cursed amidst the fire, his words almost indistinguishable.
"You wench! You wench! I'll kill you, I'll kill you..."
It turned out the black liquid wasn't pool water, but a type of black oil.
Once the oil caught a spark, it burned with an unquenchable intensity. It not only consumed Shen Shian but also engulfed Shen Yangyang, who had been splashed with the "pool water" earlier.
When one plays "god" for too long, they forget what it feels like to be "human." The gods had granted him the power to manipulate fire, but they hadn't given him a body immune to it.
The fallen old woman nearby scrambled toward Shen Shian like a madwoman, trying to stop the self-immolation, but the human figure was already turning charred and black.
"Merely a mortal body, why toil so for the gods?"
Xiao Nanhui watched Shen Shian’s flickering silhouette, and for a moment, the blurred faces of the Puhuna assassins seemed to flash before her eyes.
Karma and retribution—this was likely it.
However, she soon realized that Shen Shian’s death would not solve their terrifying predicament. The fire had spiraled out of control, turning the bottom of the cavern into a sea of flames. The burning fire rapidly consumed the surrounding oxygen. Xiao Nanhui felt her throat go dry, her breathing become difficult, and her eyelids grow heavy.
Even if she and Ding Weixiang possessed peerless martial arts, trapped in this kiln-like cave, they were no different from roasting chickens.
They couldn't delay any longer, or they would all die.
They had to find a way out.
A slightly cool hand gently touched her cheek, and the man’s voice fell by her ear like a refreshing breeze.
"Don't be afraid. There is a lock on this stone door. It can be opened with an offering of blood."
That was it. She finally remembered where she had seen such a device. When he had entrusted the Secret Seal to her for safekeeping, she had seen a similar thorn on the box containing the jade seal.
But she had witnessed Zou Sifang’s fate with her own eyes. Moreover, there seemed to be another secret to the principle of drawing blood with that thorn; otherwise, the Secret Seal would have opened after Zou Sifang offered his blood.
As she struggled with this unsolvable thought, a sleeve suddenly flashed before her eyes, and she saw his palm firmly pressed into the stone wall.
She was stunned. A moment later, she frantically pulled his hand away. His bleeding hand slid across her palm, leaving a dark red smear.
"What... what are you doing?!"
Compared to her, his expression was far too nonchalant. He didn't even seem to care about the wound on his hand. Instead, he took her hand and used his sleeve to wipe the blood from her palm.
"I said before that I had a hypothesis I hadn't yet confirmed. Now the opportunity has arrived, and it is suitable for a desperate gamble."
The air grew still for a moment, then a muffled rumble echoed from deep within the stone wall. The earth trembled, and the scene before them began to shake violently.
Xiao Nanhui steadied herself and looked up in disbelief. The massive stone door was actually slowly opening, revealing a pitch-black secret passage.
Behind them, Shen Shian’s figure had fallen into the black pool. A massive wave of heat exploded from the center of the stone coffin. Scattering debris and soaring flames rapidly surged toward the three of them. Xiao Nanhui and Ding Weixiang didn't have time to scout the passage; they could only grab Su Wei and rush inside.
The inferno roared over their heads, surging several yards into the stone doorway before finally dissipating into a cloud of black smoke. The three of them tumbled and crawled into the depths of the secret passage.
****** ****** ******
In the corridor of steles behind the side hall of Yongye Temple, two young novices were carrying a large wooden tub between them. Like two crabs tied together, they shuffled toward the library in the back courtyard.
Baosan was tall and Pinger was short, so they couldn't keep the tub level. Neither was willing to compromise for the other, so they tilted and swayed all the way to the library. By the time they stepped into the hall, more than half the water had splashed out.
"Master, the water is here!"
The wooden tub hit the floor with a thud. Splashing water mixed with mud landed right on Hao Bai’s protruding backside.
He was currently holding half a remnant of a sutra, using it to fan a fire for medicine, completely unaware that his clothes had suffered. Hearing the noise, he stood up and turned around, pointing toward a pillar deep in the hall.
"Over there, over there."
Baosan clearly didn't like this pretentious doctor who clamored for chicken every day. As he carried the tub past, he left a few more mud spots on the man before reaching the back of the hall.
The two set the tub down and stared curiously at the person tied to the pillar. Yikong suddenly appeared behind them, his demon-subduing pestle rapping sharply against their bald heads.
"Clumsy and slow in your work, and now you're gawking." He paused, then asked in a calm tone, "Is Zhuyu back yet?"
Baosan and Pinger shook their heads, their heads throbbing so much they couldn't help but rub them.
"Master, why won't you let us go down the mountain to look for him? Everyone is just idling in the main hall anyway..."
Yikong reached out and patted their bald heads.
"He probably forgot to add oil to his lamp, and it went out on the way back. He's just walking slowly in the dark. If you go looking for him, he'll feel he's lost face. Go back to the main hall and tell everyone they can go to sleep."
The two novices obeyed and pushed each other out the door.
Yikong turned to look at the person on the pillar. He lowered his head, chanted a Buddhist prayer, and apologized several times before picking up the tub and dousing Lu Songping with the water.
The icy well water drenched him from head to toe. Lu Songping gasped for air and snapped his eyes open.
Yikong quickly kicked the tub into a corner, looking concerned but not stepping forward.
"Benefactor Lu is finally awake. This humble monk was so worried."
Lu Songping panted for a while, his hollow gaze gradually focusing on the monk’s large face.
"Master Yikong? This is... Yongye Temple?"
"Awake?" Hao Bai, hearing the commotion from the doorway, hurried over. He glanced at the soaking wet Lu Songping, his tone involuntarily gloating. "Lu Songping, so you've finally met your match. Back when I fled to the Wancheng Hospice with Su Pingchuan and Wu Xiaoliu, you sent people to harass me every other day, terrified that people wouldn't know you were a Provincial Governor, lording your authority over everyone..."
"Is Master Qu suffering from some internal heat due to his vegetarian diet?" Lu Songping glanced at Hao Bai, his tone naturally acerbic. "The Emperor summoned you to the capital, yet you took over half a month to get there. Even if you were sentenced to sweep the latrines at Wangchen Tower, you'd have to endure it."
Hao Bai’s dark face turned from black to red, then red to green. After a long moment, he regained his composure and waved a hand at Yikong.
"It's definitely this grandson of a bitch."
Only then did Yikong step forward to untie the thick hemp rope from Lu Songping, asking incessantly, "Does Benefactor Lu remember what happened before?"
Lu Songping fell silent for a moment, quickly recalling the events of several months ago.
"On the day of the spring hunt, I received the Emperor’s command to intercept Miss Xiao on the side path. Later, due to the night bats, we split into three groups to track the swarm. The group I followed flew southeast into the deep mountains. I discovered a cavern nestled within a mountain rift where the bats had disappeared. I dismounted and entered to investigate. And then..."
Lu Songping stopped abruptly. Hao Bai, impatient, urged him on.
"And then? What happened then?"
Lu Songping didn't continue. Instead, he fell into a long silence.
After a long while, he slowly stood up and looked at Yikong.
"What month is it now?"
"The end of June."
"Is the Emperor in the capital?"
"No."
"The spring hunt earlier..." He paused rarely for a moment. "Is Miss Xiao well?"
Hao Bai fell silent instantly. Yikong turned around, leaving only his back visible.
"This humble monk is in these deep mountains; my news is very limited. If Benefactor Lu wants to hear stories, you should go down the mountain to a teahouse."
"Very well. This is an urgent matter; I have important business and can only catch up another day."
With that, Lu Songping actually started to walk away. But in the next instant, Yikong spoke again.
"Does Benefactor Lu know? When you arrived, it was a young novice from my temple who went to the foot of the mountain to meet you. And he has yet to return."
Lu Songping’s steps faltered. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the oversized wooden tub in the corner.
Yikong’s voice continued its leisurely drone, sounding somewhat ominous for some reason.
"That disciple of mine is best at growing vegetables. The cabbages he grows are emerald green, the radishes white and plump..."
Lu Songping didn't speak. With a *shing*, he drew his sword.
Hao Bai flinched, but the other man merely used the candlelight to examine the bloodstains on the blade before sheathing it.
"The blood on the sword is the same as the blood on me—it's stale blood. It must have been left when I was killing bats in that cave. Your temple person should be fine."
Yikong finally turned back around and politely stepped aside.
"In that case, I must trouble Benefactor Lu to tell him when you go down the mountain to get his hide back here immediately."
"Fair enough." Lu Songping paused, suddenly remembering something. "How did I get here?"
****** ****** ******
The young novice’s body lay motionless in a patch of sedge grass before the stone steps.
After a long time, a dew-drinking insect flew by. He couldn't help himself and sneezed.
The surroundings remained quiet. After a moment, he finally opened his eyes tremulously to look around.
Zou Sifang’s corpse still lay face down on the ground. The carriage beneath the mountain gate stood there quietly. The scrawny old horse was standing on its front hooves, dozing off. Behind it, on the dilapidated flatbed, the wooden coffin lid had shattered into pieces on the ground. The coffin was empty.
Speaking of his master, though young, he was incredibly well-read and had taught him many sutras and Buddhist laws over the years. Yet none were as useful as this "Play Dead to Save Your Life Incantation."
He rubbed the large bump on the back of his head from hitting a rock. Just as he was about to stand up from the grass, a figure appeared on the mountain path, walking so fast he was nearly upon him in an instant.
Zhuyu stared, feeling like he wanted to cry but had no tears.
Hadn't he already left? Why was he back?
He didn't dare look again and quickly lay back down in his previous position. Because he moved too fast, he hit the newly formed bump again, making him grimace in pain, nearly losing control of his expression.
The footsteps drew near. The man in black armor swept past him, heading straight for the carriage.
"Truly cut from the same cloth as your vengeful master," the man’s voice fell lightly, sounding a bit nasal. "There are many mosquitoes in the grass. Find another place to lie down."
Zhuyu opened his mouth, somewhat stunned.
This person didn't seem like the same one he had seen earlier, yet he was clearly the same person.
While he was dazed, Lu Songping had already checked Zou Sifang’s body. He untied the old horse from the carriage, took the reins in his hand, and with a kick against the carriage frame, he vaulted onto the horse.
"If you've had enough of lying there, hurry back to the temple. Your master is waiting for you to grow vegetables."
The sound of frantic hooves faded into the distance. Zhuyu remained sitting in the grass for a long time before patting his backside and standing up.
He was dizzy from the series of events tonight. Rubbing his head, he walked up the mountain.
After walking for some time, he returned to the front of the temple. A familiar figure stood in the night, seemingly waiting for his return.
"Master! I finally see you..."
He shouted happily and ran up in three steps, eager to pour out the story of how he had encountered danger and how he had cleverly escaped.
But after only a few words, he saw the white-robed doctor with a large backpack standing not far behind Yikong. The rest of his words died in his throat.
Why was this person coming out? Had he finally had enough and was leaving?
Zhuyu started to feel happy, but then he noticed that Yikong also held a simple traveling pack.
Since he had been taken into the temple and could remember things, the abbot had never stepped foot outside Yongye Temple.
A look of confusion appeared in the young novice’s eyes.
"Is Master going on a long journey?"
Yikong smiled and nodded.
"Go and bring out the fastest horse in our temple."
The confusion in Zhuyu’s eyes deepened.
"Master, the fastest... the fastest thing in our temple is the ox cart Auntie Lin uses to deliver vegetables."
Hao Bai burst out laughing behind him, but Yikong’s smile faded.
"Benefactor Hao, laugh while you still can. The road ahead is treacherous; I fear we may never see such a scene again."
***
