The Dust Settles

The great formation of dark clouds blotted out the sun and sky, shrouding the entire town in gloomy darkness. Cries of terror and weeping rang out everywhere.

Jia Song cackled eerily as he continued his killing spree, giving priority to draining the martial heroes who possessed cultivation, and even the armored soldiers foolishly following at his side.

Like a starving demon that had hungered for ages, he devoured flesh and blood with wild abandon, continuously strengthening his cultivation.

Old Ghost Tushan was even more rampant. Transformed into a mass of sinister ghostly qi, wherever he swept through, townsfolk who had been alive just moments ago became piles of white bones.

Amid the chaos, the Youdao Division seemed to have descended into internal strife. A few Daoists led squads of armored soldiers in battle against Tu Xiong's men...

But this was no longer something Li Qingyun could involve himself in.

After constant riding and slaughter, he too was exhausted, his spiritual power severely depleted.

He could only remain at Zhou Mansion, doing all he could to fulfill his promise and protect Zhou Gang's household.

To break the overall deadlock, they could only wait for the experts above to arrive. Only then could the townspeople truly be saved.

"By my reckoning, it should be about time..."

Li Qingyun sat cross-legged before the Daoist effigy, murmuring to himself.

Boom!

At that moment, the entire town suddenly shook.

Countless townspeople fleeing in panic looked up to see a great seal blazing with golden radiance abruptly appear in the sky—majestic, tyrannical, and soul-shaking!

The great seal struck fiercely at the formation enshrouding Yinshan Town.

At once, the dark clouds filling the sky collapsed, and great streams of light shone in from outside into the hellish town!

One powerful figure after another appeared in the sky.

"Old Ghost Tushan, Jia Song, you traitors—you shall surely die!"

"Yinshan Town has been out of contact for so long. So Jia Song was behind it all..."

"Those who followed the rebels shall be judged where judgment is due, and executed without delay where execution is due..."

"Zhou Gang failed in his duty as governor, bringing devastation upon living beings. Yet in the end, he dared to splash his Azure Blood upon the Golden Talisman. His resolve is commendable..."

"..."

Above Yinshan Town were elegant, free-spirited masters of temples, as well as Youdao Division experts clad in golden-threaded Daoist robes.

Outside the town, great numbers of armored soldiers also pressed close like a tide.

Once they acted, they swept away the rebel forces like an autumn wind scattering fallen leaves, suppressing the chaos and restoring order.

Several Youdao Division experts, led by a middle-aged man of the Opening Mansion Realm, pursued toward Great Yin Mountain, swearing to kill the fleeing Old Ghost Tushan and the most detestable former deputy commander, Jia Song.

To prolong his lifespan, Jia Song had not hesitated to cultivate demonic arts, turning himself half man and half ghost. He had wantonly consumed the flesh and blood of the townspeople, and had even intended to blood-sacrifice the entire town.

The experts from all sides had arrived in time. During the chaos just now, roughly five or six hundred people had died at the hands of Jia Song and Old Ghost Tushan.

Jia Song's schemes had been vast, yet in the end, all his efforts had come to naught.

Fortunately, Zhou Gang had splashed his blood upon the Azure Blood Talisman, while Li Qingyun had charged out through the city wall and activated the golden talisman, shocking a thousand miles and interrupting this brutal blood sacrifice plotted jointly by humans and ghosts.

"Chief Commander, we came too late..."

At Zhou Mansion, a Daoist formerly of the town's Youdao Division, covered head to toe in blood, rushed in with several armored soldiers.

Seeing the corpses filling the hall, he was horrified and burst into tears.

"You indeed came too late!"

Before the Daoist Lord effigy in the hall, a young Daoist with a calm face slowly rose to his feet and looked at them indifferently.

"Clean this up."

Li Qingyun ignored them and walked straight to the entrance of the underground chamber in the rear hall, lifting open the cover.

Faint light shone down into the dim, silent chamber, falling first upon the child standing at the very front—Zhou Heng, whose face was red and swollen, though his eyes forcibly maintained their calm.

"This child is quite good. No wonder Zhou Gang valued him so highly."

Li Qingyun then said gently to Zhou Heng, Madam Zhou, and the others, "It's all right now. It has all passed..."

At once, the underground chamber erupted with both crying and laughter.

With powerful figures holding the fort, the aftermath was dealt with.

In less than a day, Yinshan Town had settled down.

Under orders, the town's shops, inns, and restaurants reopened. More pedestrians appeared on the streets, and its long-lost bustle and prosperity gradually returned.

That day, Li Qingyun remained at Zhou Mansion.

He meditated in a pavilion in the courtyard, but his hands were not idle.

His ten fingers fluttered like butterflies weaving among flowers, folding swallow after swallow, white crane after white crane, frog after frog.

Though the child Zhou Heng was still immersed in the grief of losing his father, he had become attached to this big brother whom he considered the most formidable. Sitting in the pavilion, he watched with worship-filled eyes as his big brother effortlessly folded one toy after another.

After folding the last paper frog, Li Qingyun's handsome face shifted slightly, and he stopped.

Whoosh!

A trace of childlike playfulness rose within him. Wanting to show off before Zhou Heng, he puffed out his cheeks and blew at the dozens of paper animals on the ground.

Ripples of dharma intent spread through the air.

The pile of folded paper suddenly seemed to come alive. Some flew, some hopped, all lifelike as they scattered in every direction.

The paper crane flew onto the roof of Zhou Mansion, its bearing light and graceful.

The paper frog plopped into the nearby spring pool, splashing up water.

The five or six paper swallows flew up to the beams of Zhou Mansion, like a flock of house swallows returning with spring after winter's passing...

"Big Brother, you're amazing! Is this Daoist magic?"

The boy happily cradled a butterfly in his little palms. In his childish eyes, longing seemed to glimmer.

"Yes. This is one application of Daoist arts, called the Illusionary Object Technique!"

Li Qingyun patted Zhou Heng's head, feeling pleased and delighted as well.

While guarding Zhou Mansion, he had meditated and contemplated the Illusionary Spirit Technique. With the mysterious Daoist effigy's enhancement, this technique had finally broken through to the next realm, undergoing a fundamental transformation.

Illusionary objects were merely a means of controlling objects, derived from combining illusion arts with minor techniques such as object manipulation.

Just two days ago, he had still envied Wang Muyun's skill with illusionary objects. In the blink of an eye, he had reached her level in that art.

The breakthrough in his technique's level owed itself to surviving the peril of last night and repeatedly using the Illusionary Spirit Technique. Through practice, his ability to learn and comprehend had been unleashed to its fullest.

Of course, most importantly, whenever the "him" in his mind observed the Daoist art ripple imprints on the dark wall, there would certainly be gains!

That day, he did nothing at all but sit in the pavilion, meditating, contemplating, and practicing the Illusionary Spirit Technique.

Senior Brother Zhao Yifan, Chi Hui, and Old Daoist Wang of Purple Gold Temple came to Zhou Mansion one after another to find him. They told him of each person's narrow escapes from danger the night before, then regretfully mentioned that quite a few fellow Daoists had still been killed or wounded.

The group went jubilantly to the Youdao Division to collect their rewards.

Li Qingyun was engrossed in his paper-folding illusion art, so he had his senior brother collect his share for him.

He had no intention of sticking his head out.

Even without claiming the reward, he had already gained enough. There was no need to stick his head out and risk danger again.

As for exactly what he had done the previous night, Zhao Yifan, Chi Hui, and the others had only vague guesses. They did not know the truth.

"Once Senior Brother has collected the rewards, we'll immediately set out and return to Lingbao Temple..."

Li Qingyun rose, his sleeve sweeping through the air as though it had generated magnetic force.

The folded paper that had come alive and was flying and hopping wildly around the courtyard immediately flew into his sleeve one after another. Their "vitality" dissipated, and they became an ordinary pile of folded paper again.

He looked toward the sky above the corner of the pavilion. His expression shifted, and he bent down to say, "Zhou Heng, I'll leave this butterfly for you to play with. Go find your mother."

Zhou Heng listened to him obediently. Holding the paper butterfly, he skipped away.

"So you are Li Qingyun. You did well last night! With such a fine illusion technique, it seems you were the key to breaking the deadlock last night..."

A middle-aged man's figure suddenly appeared in the air above Zhou Mansion.

The middle-aged man stood upon the void, wearing a Golden Line Black Robe. His face was imposing, and three wisps of black beard beneath his chin drifted in the wind.