Temples and Taoist monasteries in the Divine Land were always built on carefully chosen sites.
Those built atop famous mountains, deep in great rivers, or in places rarely visited by people usually meant that their inhabitants devoted themselves wholeheartedly to studying the Great Dao and staying far from the mortal world...
Those built halfway up a mountain meant being half in the mortal world and half among the immortals...
Those built at the foot of a mountain meant cultivating oneself amid the mortal world and forming ties of goodwill far and wide...
Those built in cities were undoubtedly dependent on incense offerings and the personal energy of the people.
Thus, the areas around temples in cities were usually prosperous, with flourishing commerce and bustling crowds.
The old street near the NiangNiang Temple in the western district.
Shops stood in rows on both sides of the street, but unlike the area around the City God Temple, where incense and candle shops mingled with stores handling weddings and funerals, most of the shops here belonged to various craftsmen.
Leatherworkers, goldsmiths, carpenters, stonemasons, and the like were merely trades. The types of shops derived from them were even more varied: some specialized in horse tack, some made shadow puppets, some crafted furniture, and others made all kinds of musical instruments for performers.
Several men from the White Ape Gang hurried along.
Unlike the Iron Saber Gang, Yuan Qu had grown up among brothels and seen every kind of spectacle. What he cared about was pomp and presentation, so his men were dressed in neat, uniform attire: black jackets, martial boots, and thick leather waist guards as broad as a palm.
Every one of them was burly and rugged, and together they looked even more ferocious.
The common folk along the way saw them and all wore fear in their eyes, hastily moving aside.
Before long, they reached an out-of-the-way shop.
Many wooden puppets hung outside the shop. They were all dressed in theatrical costumes, their faces painted with opera masks—sheng, dan, jing, mo, and chou—and each looked astonishingly lifelike.
This was a shop that made wooden puppets.
Puppet theater was also called "little theater." It originated in the Han and flourished during the Tang Era. Even the Tang Emperor had once written a poem: "Carved wood and pulled threads make an old man; with chicken skin and crane hair, he is just like the real thing."
It was called "little" because performances used a small stage, with curtains concealing the space below. The performers worked beneath it, relying on deft hands and singing skills to enact all the joys and sorrows of life within a square inch.
Xianyang's puppet theater was equally famous.
With only two or three people, performers could travel to village festivals and temple fairs to put on shows. There were therefore quite a few people in the trade, as well as shops dedicated to making puppets.
Inside the ancient shop, a middle-aged man was carving a puppet.
He wore white robes, his black hair falling to his shoulders. His eyes were narrow at the corners, his expression cool and distant, and his fingers long and powerful. As the carving knife slid across the wood, shavings scattered.
For some reason, he seemed somewhat out of place in the old shop.
Even when he heard footsteps, he remained completely absorbed, as if no one else existed.
The men from the White Ape Gang did not even dare enter. They stood outside the door, bent at the waist and cupped their fists respectfully.
"Master Chen, our gang leader wishes to ask for your help."
The man in white did not even raise his head, continuing to carve with complete concentration.
"Where are the things I asked for?"
"Please rest assured, Mister Chen. We're only missing one item. The gang leader said that there are too many prying eyes during the day, so he'll have everything delivered to your residence together tonight..."
Two hours later, at the Yuan family residence.
Unlike Zheng HeiBei of the Iron Saber Gang, Yuan Qu had struck it rich and adopted an entirely different style. He had purchased a grand estate and built courtyards, carrying himself like a wealthy gentleman.
Perhaps he had been poor for too long as a child. Now, he indulged in luxury at every turn.
"Young Master Zhou, this way!"
Outside the main gate, a man respectfully led the way.
Behind him followed a young man with a tall, straight build, thick brows, large eyes, and square, regular features. He wore a brocade robe and long gown, and an emerald thumb ring adorned one of his fingers.
His eyes shone brightly, and he possessed a tigerish air.
As they entered the estate, Yuan Qu came forward to greet them. Smiling, he said, "Zhou Bai, you're truly difficult to invite. Could it be that you've received your master's true inheritance and now look down on your Uncle Yuan?"
The visitor was none other than the Zhou family's gifted son, Zhou Bai.
"You're joking, Martial Uncle."
The young Zhou Bai was clearly somewhat impatient. He gave a slight cupped-fist salute, then glanced around and shook his head. "Martial Uncle, your garden has grown even more beautiful. My eldest uncle once said that if you weren't so lost in these worldly possessions, your kung fu would surely have reached far greater heights."
"Hahaha..."
Yuan Qu showed no anger at all. Instead, he laughed. "I'm old. I can't compare with the fierce advancement of you young people. If I hear one day that you've made a name for yourself in the martial world, I'll be satisfied."
Zhou Bai neither agreed nor disagreed. "Uncle Yuan, why did you call me here?"
"You'll know once you go inside."
Yuan Qu gave a mysterious smile and led Zhou Bai into the main hall.
A huge macaque squatted on a chair inside. An iron chain was fastened around its neck, while it held a live chicken in its hands and tore into it, blood streaming down its mouth.
It looked almost human at first glance, but a vicious gleam flickered in its eyes.
On a chair on the other side sat a middle-aged man in white, his black hair falling to his shoulders and his expression cool and distant. He toyed with a string of prayer beads, his eyes closed as he rested.
When they arrived, he merely cast them a faint glance.
Yuan Qu hurriedly introduced them. "Zhou Bai, let me introduce you. This is Master Chen FaKui, an eminent expert of the Nine Yuan Sect's lineage."
"Greetings, Master Chen."
Zhou Bai's heart jolted. He respectfully saluted.
Among the various schools of the martial world, the Gold Gate stood at the head, while the Profound Gate stood aloof from worldly affairs.
The Tai Xuan Orthodox Sect was the state religion, and the people it dealt with were mostly high officials and nobles. As martial-world figures like them, the greatest experts they could generally come into contact with were practitioners of the various lineages.
The Nine Yuan Sect originated on Mount Li and was also an ancient sect. It was said that its members were descendants of the craftsmen who built the First Emperor's Mausoleum, and that they had inherited the traditions of the fangshi of that era. They wielded considerable influence throughout Guanzhong.
The distinctive mark of these lineages was that the names of their true disciples contained the character "Fa."
There was no need to say more about Chen FaKui. He was a genuine lineage sorcerer!
Why have me meet a sorcerer?
Zhou Bai was puzzled. He then looked at the huge macaque and frowned. "Uncle Yuan, why is my eldest uncle's fist beast here?"
There were many varieties of monkey fist. The Red Fist system had one branch as well, but because it was considered inelegant, it was called "Child Fist."
Zhou Pan was an expert in this art. He had also studied Through-the-Back Monkey Fist, fused the two styles, and painstakingly researched them before finally stepping into Transformed Strength.
Near Zhongnan Mountain, he had captured two huge macaques with considerable intelligence. By observing their movements while practicing fist techniques, he had actually taught the two macaques martial arts.
Zhou Pan was very fond of them and called them fist beasts.
After becoming president of the Divine Fist Society, his fame spread far and wide. People often came to challenge him, and Zhou Pan grew sick of it, so he established a rule: anyone who could defeat the huge macaques could then fight him.
This was one of the sources of his notorious reputation.
Normally, the two huge macaques were always kept beside Zhou Pan. Their appearance here naturally left Zhou Bai puzzled.
"Of course, I asked my master to send it here."
Yuan Qu smiled faintly. "The match is right around the corner. Although you've acquired the form of the monkey, you're lacking some of its agility and ferocity. That's why I paid a great price to have Master Chen use a secret method to help you comprehend it. Your master has agreed as well."
Zhou Bai immediately felt displeased upon hearing this. He shook his head. "It's only some country bumpkin. Could it be that Martial Uncle Yuan has no confidence in me?"
Yuan Qu laughed. "Of course I have confidence in you."
"But you know that old Zhang YuanShang has always been at odds with my master. If that boy were truly a pushover, why would he have taken the initiative to arrange this?"
"So you must not merely win. You must win cleanly!"
"If you kill Li Hu's son with ease, perhaps my master will be so pleased that he'll let you leave and roam the martial world, making a name for yourself."
Zhou Bai's eyes lit up at once. "Really?"
"Of course!"
Yuan Qu's smile was utterly sincere.
The sorcerer Chen FaKui had watched coldly from the sidelines all along. Seeing Zhou Bai agree, he stepped forward, took a tuft of hair from Zhou Bai and another from the huge macaque, wrapped them in a Yellow Talisman, and alternately stuffed them into the mouth of the man and the monkey.
Zhou Bai could not help feeling a chill as he watched.
Sorcerers could harm people without warning. Thus, there was a saying in the martial world that when dealing with such people, whether it was one's Eight Characters, fingernails, or hair, none of them should be handed over lightly.
If Zhou Pan had not agreed, he would never have let the other man come near him.
Noticing Zhou Bai's wariness, Chen FaKui did not care in the slightest.
He then produced a Pellet Drum painted with the Eight Trigrams. As he shook it, he paced the Gang and stepped the Dipper, flinging his head as his black hair whipped wildly. His eyes gradually rolled white.
He muttered incantations, but his speech was so rapid that nothing could be made out.
As the Pellet Drum rattled, Zhou Bai began to show strange symptoms.
He could feel the aura of the huge macaque filling the space around him.
That aura surged into his body, making him jerk and twitch involuntarily. His knees gradually bent, and he scratched the back of his head with his hand turned backward. He began to squint and contort his face, his movements becoming exactly the same as the huge macaque's.
Then, the man and monkey began practicing monkey fist in the main hall.
Every move was sharp, every punch vicious.
A few traces of beastly savagery also appeared in Zhou Bai's eyes.
Crack!
He reached out and grabbed, tearing claw marks into even the thick supporting beam.
The young man let out a cheer. Moving on all fours like a monkey, he darted wildly about, occasionally baring his teeth at Yuan Qu. His entire body radiated a primal wildness.
"Good!"
Yuan Qu clapped in approval, yet his eyes were filled with mockery...
Before they knew it, night had fallen.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The drumbeats were still sounding in the old alley near the City God Temple.
They came and went, each one like a peal of thunder.
Wang Dao Xuan walked along the bluestone street carrying a lantern. He raised his foot and entered the Asking Dao Pavilion, then looked at Li Yan, who seemed possessed by madness in the courtyard, and could not help shaking his head slightly.
Sha LiFei was squatting on the steps, a jar of aged wine held in his arms. An opened oil-paper package beside him was filled with boiled peanuts and marinated beef.
"Daoist Priest, want a sip?"
When he saw Wang Dao Xuan enter, he raised the jar and asked in a low voice.
Wang Dao Xuan shook his head. "No. It's the Hour of the Pig, when people have settled down for the night. Drinking would stir the qi and blood and go against the natural rhythm. If I drank, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to cultivate later."
"What cultivation nonsense..."
Sha LiFei muttered, "With that drum pounding, how could anyone sleep?"
Wang Dao Xuan was helpless as well. "I already spoke with the four neighboring households. They don't mind, so why complain?"
"How would I dare complain? I'm just worried."
Sha LiFei hurriedly protested, shaking his head. "He's been beating it all day without eating or drinking, and the day after tomorrow he'll be on the platform. Aren't you afraid something will go wrong?"
Wang Dao Xuan watched Li Yan in the courtyard, oblivious to everything around him, and said thoughtfully, "This is the state of forgetting oneself. Yan XiaoGe gave instructions beforehand, which means he knows what he's doing."
"We only need to wait in peace."
The people of the old street suffered terribly that night.
Yet what puzzled them was that the drumbeats they had previously found irritating somehow began to sound pleasant after midnight.
And that night, they slept especially peacefully...
Before you continue