The Wen Wang Drum Sounds

At the rooster's first crow, the whole world turned white.

Along with the crows of roosters throughout the village, a boundary between night and day appeared on the horizon. Yin energy sank, yang energy rose, and human voices gradually returned to the village.

"You brat, why are you so lazy?"

"Hurry up and feed the pigs. You still have to go work the fields later..."

Li Yan had not slept all night. Holding a blade, he had kept watch in the courtyard. Only after hearing distant neighbors scolding their children did he gently push open the wooden gate.

Creak~

The old door bolt let out a teeth-grating sound.

Li Yan stepped outside and looked up, his eyes filling with horror.

The "Victorious in a Hundred Battles" plaque hanging overhead had lost much of its paint. Its corners were visibly rotten, and a crack had even appeared along its right side.

Li Yan did not know how this treasure suppressed evil—perhaps it had something to do with the imperial court.

But he could see that after a single night, the plaque had suffered considerable damage. Perhaps it would fail after enduring just one more night.

And "Blind Old Three" had clearly only been driven back temporarily.

What should he do?

Just as Li Yan was considering a solution, his grandfather Li Gui emerged from the house, leaning on a cane.

The old man had been about to take a few puffs from his long pipe, but when he saw Li Yan standing outside with a blade in hand and his clothes in disarray, he immediately cursed, "You brat, practicing your blade until you don't even eat is one thing, but why can't you even dress properly?"

"Don't stand there blocking the doorway. You'll scare people first thing in the morning. I'll go make you something to eat."

With that, he hobbled toward the kitchen on his two canes.

He was advanced in years and had not heard a thing of last night's commotion.

Li Yan opened his mouth, intending to stop him, but he had no mind for cooking right now. He hurried into the house and got dressed.

Farmers' clothing had never been particularly particular. Most of it was made from coarse black cloth, and now that the weather was warming, they wore only a single layer.

The trousers, however, were usually very loose and shapeless, hanging straight down. Without Leg Wraps, they were truly inconvenient to move in.

After dressing, he left the house and hurried toward the village entrance.

He knew that Blind Old Three's corpse had been hung from the big locust tree at the village entrance. He had simply been too lazy to go look. He had never expected trouble to arise last night.

Before leaving, he turned back for one look. Seeing the cooking smoke rising outside the kitchen, he clenched his fist hard.

His grandfather was still at home. He could not leave.

No matter what that thing was, he had to find a way to deal with it!

The warm sun had just risen. Yellow earth, wheat fields, blue skies, white clouds, villagers passing to and fro with hoes across their shoulders—it was an idyllic rural scene.

Compared with last night's strangeness, it was simply another world.

Blind Old Three's corpse still hung from the big locust tree at the village entrance. It had been battered to pieces by mischievous children yesterday, and even now, idle men passing by would laugh and casually give it another whack with their hoes.

Li Yan did not approach immediately. Instead, he sniffed the air.

He stood upwind, less than fifty meters away, yet he could not smell even a trace of Blind Old Three's distinctive fishy, rank stench.

It seemed to be nothing more than an ordinary wolf carcass.

Li Yan frowned slightly. He moved closer to inspect it, yet still found no Suspicious Circumstances.

At that moment, a man passed by. Seeing this, he clicked his tongue and sighed. "What a waste. I told them they should've just eaten it. Hang it here for a few days and it'll rot."

Li Yan was somewhat speechless, not knowing what to say.

The man was named Li Shuanzhu, a lifelong bachelor with no proper manners. He was greedy for food, famously foul-mouthed, loved to argue for the sake of it, and was disliked by everyone.

If he had eaten that thing, he would probably have been the unlucky one last night.

Li Shuanzhu was completely unaware that he was hated, and continued talking to himself. "Widow Wang said this thing was inauspicious and wanted to burn it for a ritual. I don't see anything wrong with it..."

Li Yan was startled and quickly asked, "What else did she say?"

"What proper thing could she possibly say?"

Li Shuanzhu shook his head. "Her house stinks like a latrine, and she goes around muttering nonsense all day. Such a pity..."

With that, he carried his hoe away at a leisurely stride.

Li Yan did not care. He looked thoughtfully toward the village, then headed straight for Widow Wang's home without another word.

Before long, he arrived near Widow Wang's house.

It was an old courtyard with its main gate tightly shut. Wild grass grew thick beneath its mud-brick walls, while piles of miscellaneous junk lay everywhere under layers of dust.

Most villagers had already gone to the fields, so there was no one nearby. It looked like an abandoned old house.

The moment Li Yan approached, his brows knitted tightly.

Among the strange places in the village, aside from the Land God Temple, Widow Wang's home was one of them. But the mixture of rank stench and rot was pure torture for his nose.

Besides, there was always gossip around a widow's door. Afraid that villagers would wag their tongues, he rarely came near even when he was curious.

But now, he had no choice.

Blind Old Three had to be dealt with. Widow Wang might know something...

Creak~

Just as he was about to raise his foot, the wooden gate suddenly opened. Widow Wang, disheveled and pale-faced, poked her head out.

She first cautiously looked behind Li Yan, her eyes full of wariness. Only then did she say in a trembling voice, "Come in. The Immortal Family wants to see you."

Li Yan was stunned.

Widow Wang actually knew he was coming!

And... the Immortal Family?

Li Yan raised his guard inwardly, though his face remained expressionless. He lightly pressed a hand to his sword hilt and strode into the small courtyard.

The moment he entered, a suffocating stench assaulted him.

Li Yan's sense of smell far surpassed that of ordinary people, and this truly made him suffer. He quickly held his breath, frowning as he looked around.

Around the courtyard walls lay a ring of rotting wood and pickling jars. Some unknown liquid within had spoiled, with a layer of white foam floating atop it while dense swarms of flies buzzed about.

The smell of this place rivaled a latrine.

Li Yan could no longer bear it and covered his nose. Just as he was about to speak, his gaze sharpened as he noticed something suspicious.

These jars filled with filth looked randomly arranged, but there was method to them. They had clearly been placed according to the Eight Gates: Open, Rest, Life, Harm, Obstruction, View, Death, and Shock.

Having practiced martial arts and blade techniques, he knew a little about such things.

Could there be another reason for arranging them this way?

Before he could think further, Widow Wang gently opened the door and motioned for him to follow.

Even the way she opened the door was strange. She pulled it open from the side by only a narrow crack, with a cloth curtain hung to block out the light, as though afraid the wind would blow inside.

Good heavens, even a woman in confinement wouldn't seal things up this tightly...

The doubt in Li Yan's heart deepened as he followed her inside.

Unexpectedly, the room smelled far less foul than the courtyard, but it was dim and stiflingly hot. That fishy, rank odor mixed with incense had also grown thicker.

Li Yan's gaze was immediately drawn to the furnishings inside.

A square offering table stood against the center wall. Four plates of steamed buns, three plates of fruit, roast chicken, fatty pork, and jars of wine were arranged upon it.

Three incense sticks were planted in the censer, while candles on either side gave off dim light.

Behind the offerings stood a wooden tablet. Red paper was pasted at its center, bearing the words: Position of Hu Sangu. A small couplet stood on either side:

Cultivating one's true nature deep in the mountains, emerging from an ancient cave to make a name across the four seas.

Chuma Xian?

Li Yan was slightly startled as many faded memories surfaced in his mind.

In his previous life, aside from all kinds of ancient artifacts, he had also studied folk customs.

This originated from primitive Shamanism and was rather prevalent in the Northeast. There were House-Protecting Immortals and Chuma Xian, though such things were relatively rare in Guanzhong.

Thinking carefully, Widow Wang had been bought by her husband from human traffickers. He vaguely recalled hearing someone mention that she was from the Northeast.

But what drew his attention even more was the space before the offering table.

The ground there was covered with red wooden stakes, encircled by red string. A neatly dressed, clean-looking little girl lay on the ground.

Her eyes were tightly shut, as though she had fallen unconscious, while her eyelids trembled constantly.

Even stranger, the skin over the acupoints from her head to her shoulders and even her arms trembled faintly, like the surface of a drum.

What was this?

Everything before him struck Li Yan as somewhat absurd.

But since last night, much of what he knew had been overturned. He knew this world was far from simple, and that another kind of power existed.

Widow Wang did not explain much. Instead, she lifted a large piece of red cloth from a rack beside the offering table, revealing a drum beneath it.

Bagua were painted upon the drumskin. Eight strings extended from behind it, four facing north and four south, with several copper coins hanging from them that jingled when it was lifted.

Five-colored red cloth strips were tied beneath the drum beater's handle.

Wen Wang Drum, Wu Wang Whip?

Li Yan narrowed his eyes, intrigued.

Perhaps this world was more than merely folk customs...

After picking up the drum and whip, Widow Wang seemed to become a completely different person. She swayed her shoulders and shook her head, beating the drum as she circled the red string on the ground.

Thump! Thump! Thump-thump!

The drumbeats boomed in rhythm. Widow Wang's bearing gradually changed as well, from her original timid submissiveness to solemn dignity. She began to chant:

"The sun sets beyond the western hills, and heaven turns black. Every household bolts its doors. Travelers hurry toward the inns; birds fly to the forests, tigers return to the mountains. Birds have a place to settle in the forests, and tigers return to the mountains to find peace..."

As the chant began, her accent changed with it.

Li Yan had seen this scene in his previous life as well.

The scene was still much the same, but his abnormal sense of smell allowed him to detect a difference.

He could smell that, with the drum's vibrations, the fishy, rank odor laced with incense throughout the surrounding space seemed to have found a place to belong.

Keeping time with the rhythm, it gathered continuously toward the center...