The elderly man carrying the lantern, a distinguished official from the Ministry of Rites' Ancestral Rites and Clerical Affairs Department, selected a secluded street and finally arrived at the City God Pavilion of Hongzhu Town. Just as he was about to step over the threshold, the lantern in his hand slipped inside first, as if passing through a ripple of water—an ephemeral wave separating yin from yang, where well water does not contaminate river water. Within the brilliant red lantern, swarms of glowing fireflies darted and collided against the walls, their luminous trails shimmering in radiant splendor.
Inscribed on the lantern in vermilion brushstrokes were four archaic characters: "Soul's coming and going." Inside this pavilion, which shared jurisdiction over yin-yang affairs alongside the county government, a scholarly elder with a face like a ripe red date bowed deeply to the newcomer and proclaimed in a clear voice, "City God of Hongzhu Town pays respects to the honorable Official."
Flanking the elder were two figures: a civil official clutching a jade tablet and a martial general clad in armor, sword at his side, with a raccoon perched on his shoulder—all divine spirits of yin nature. Their appearances were identical to the clay statues of the City God and the civil and military deities enshrined in the Wenchang and Martial Saint Temples.
The lantern-bearing elder nodded gravely in return, "I presume you three have already received the imperial edict. Within a thousand-li radius, all local mountain and water deities, earth spirits, river guardians, as well as the gods enshrined in this pavilion and the civil-military temples, are commanded to intercept a certain sword-bearing man named A Liang. Along the four cardinal routes of his retreat, anyone who dares hesitate or deliberately conceals their strength shall have their golden effigies shattered. Fragments of river gods' statues will be buried at mountain bases; those of mountain gods sunk to the riverbed. Even for you, born of this pavilion and temples, the outcome shall be no different. Eventually, all your names will be expunged from the local gazetteers."
A faint smile crossed the elder's face, softening the atmosphere. "We do not demand you rush to your deaths, merely to resist with all your might. His Majesty personally commands this strategy—thus, this is a prime opportunity for you to win glory and merit. Our Great Li dynasty's iron cavalry advances irresistibly southward. Once our territories expand, countless superior and elevated positions will be vacated. For you, who have long dwelt in divine seats, the significance of this is surely understood."
The three local deities responded fervently, "We shall not shirk our duties!" "We will exert ourselves fully!" "Having once fallen in battle for Great Li and enjoyed centuries of worship, I vow to shatter my golden form if necessary to ensure that vile scoundrel meets his end here!"
The elder nodded with satisfaction. "The southern lands will undoubtedly rely on you to govern their mountains and rivers. Let us unite our efforts and jointly achieve greatness."
Not far from Hongzhu Town, inside the Jade Liquid River God Shrine, stood the burly man who had accompanied the lantern elder at Guanshui Street. His true identity was an official from the Ministry of War's Martial Selection Division—this formidable figure commanded life and death over much of the Jianghu under Great Li. Yet, compared to the elderly official from the Ministry of Rites' Ancestral Rites and Clerical Affairs Department—who conversed casually on immortality—this warrior was said to wrestle with the rank and file of muddy ponds.
Within the river god shrine, two imposing river deities stood: one wielding a dark iron spear inscribed with intermittently gleaming golden runes; the other entwined by a nimble azure serpent, which periodically opened its mouth to exhale wisps of pearly breath. Both emanated a misty, aqueous aura.
The burly man spoke solemnly, "When the net closes, the swordsman will most likely flee south. You two must converge here; I shall be the first to block his path. Though I'd like to say 'better my comrade dies than I,' His Majesty watches us closely. I wouldn't dare act recklessly, not even with ten lives. I trust you won't disappoint the emperor either."
Without further ado, the man strode out of the shrine, facing north toward Hongzhu Town. He shed his shirt, revealing a muscular physique adorned with fierce tattoos—a shoulder-length dragon no common outlaw would dare ink, and a ferocious forest tiger sprawled across his back. Under the moonlight, he crossed his arms, unmoving as a mountain, his presence formidable.
Along the long street leading to Zhentou Post Station's gates, the woman who had tried to persuade Lin Shouyi to return with her to Changchun Palace lingered, choosing a nearby tavern where a youthful, beautiful hostess served wine while recounting coarse and bawdy jokes with a poker face. Her timid husband remained buried in his tasks.
This elder of Changchun Palace sat beside the young oarswoman from a painted boat—a girl born into generations of lowly boat folk, now blessed by fate to be chosen by the master beside her to study legendary immortal arts at Changchun Palace. According to this master who seemed to fall from the heavens, the girl's talent was notable, likely due to her lifelong affinity with water and a fateful entanglement with the Chongdan River. She was naturally attuned to water, possessing the promise to ascend to the revered Middle Fifth Floor.
Unaware of what the Middle Fifth Floor entailed, the girl mimicked her master, sipping a small mouthful of strong liquor—not out of fear of intoxication, for no boat girl is unfamiliar with drink, but compelled by the master's innate grace and composure.
Softly, the girl asked, "Master, why does the young man refuse to come with us to Changchun Palace?"
The nearly eighty-year-old woman smiled calmly. "It's not that he's ungrateful; rather, his fate is not yet sealed. Cultivation is about refining one's strength—like building a house, first laying a solid foundation. Yet the ultimate height depends on how deeply one cultivates the heart. Lin Shouyi's steadfast spirit marks him as a natural-born cultivator. Even if he never enters Changchun Palace, he will go far. You must strive harder so that next time we meet, you will feel no shame."
The girl nodded and drank quietly. This seemingly ageless woman carried herself with admirable poise.
Hongzhu Town trembled for the first time. Though the force was immense, actual damage was slight—only tables on the shore shook and boats on the river swayed.
The elder's face darkened. "Surely, a practitioner of the Upper Fifth Floor Qi Refinement."
Her voice heavy, "Let's hope it's not a legendary Upper Twelfth Floor, or a martial cultivator from the Eleventh Floor."
She instructed the girl, "When I leave, no matter what happens, remain calm and stay where you are."
When immortals of their caliber clash, mortals suffer terribly; even forewarned, escape is not guaranteed. She could scarcely imagine a world without the seventy-two academies guarding their regions, or the most powerful martial cultivators outside the Three Teachings, forced to rely on dynasties. Without the many mountain and water deities aiding emperors in surveillance and restraining mountain powers, how chaotic would this world become? Even she, a mountain immortal, dared not fathom.
A Liang reached the open courtyard beyond the corridor, sleeves fluttering, hands grasping a green bamboo sword and a narrow dagger talisman. Taking a deep breath, as if freed from the veil of his removed straw hat and a certain intentional restraint, the man finally stretched freely, no longer constrained.
Still uneasy, he glanced about and cautioned, "Though you are a yin spirit accomplished in cultivation, Great Li's rising vigor means every fortress and city pulses with fierce yang energy, naturally suppressing spirits like you. Have Lin Shouyi attempt to refine several pure yang talismans from that stack to serve as your safe pass."
Not far away, in response, a shadow emerged, gradually forming before Chen Ping'an and the others—a swirling black mist revealing a clear head with distinct features and pupil-less, milky white eyes, eerie and chilling. Towering and vague, like a dragon vanishing into clouds, only its head visible. This yin spirit nodded.
A Liang chuckled, "Then I entrust these children to you. Escort them at least to the Wild Man Pass of Great Li, then their fate is their own. Overprotecting them is futile. A thousand nods from the timid mean less than one brave rebuke—I trust you."
The yin spirit, speaking in a rustic local dialect with a hoarse voice, asked, "Why trust a shadowy being of uncertain origin?"
A Liang smiled broadly, "Judging by your face—so distant and cold—one can see the heart beneath is warm, full of chivalry."
The spirit hesitated, "Because I resemble you?"
A Liang was momentarily speechless, "You half-human, half-ghost bastard… you talk funny."
The spirit grinned silently.
Li Huai, hiding behind Li Bao'ping, tugged her sleeve nervously, whispering, "Bao'ping, Bao'ping, it's a ghost, really a ghost."
Lin Shouyi's curiosity battled restraint, wary of staring too directly at the spirit lest he provoke it.
The rough introduction in Cloud Above Langlang Book explained that yin spirits ascend through three paths: devotion fueled by believers' incense, parasitism on martial cultivators' courage, or arduous cultivation like a Qi refiner—the last the most arduous, but yielding the most stable souls, able to transform harsh elements into their strength.
The yin
spirit's eyes were unmistakably milky white, like crystals in a midnight pool. It spoke in a deeper local dialect, low and unyielding. It greeted Lin Shouyi, "I am a mountain yin spirit from the Thousand Layer Mountain near the West Ridge of Qingcheng, named 'Cloud Coil'. A strange master blessed me once; now I serve as A Liang's shadow, shielding those he chooses."
Lin Shouyi smiled and said, "That's a tough name."
The spirit laughed, "Those like me don't choose easy names."
The elders, officials, deities, and immortals all poised themselves for the coming storm that would sweep across the lands, marking a decisive chapter in the struggle between ancient divine forces and the burgeoning power of Great Li. The battle to come would decide not only lives but the fate of entire regions, forging legends anew.