Nightfall in the Village, the Yellow Springs Mother Tree

That night, thick fog gathered between the mountains, hiding the stars and veiling the moon. Only the faint outlines of the two mountains could be seen.

Smoke rose from the homes of Song Family Village. Villagers who had been out returned in groups, bringing the village to life and gradually filling it with bustle.

Only the funeral home remained gloomy and eerie, as though ghosts might appear at any moment.

That was certainly how it looked from the outside. But take a closer look, and you might need to think twice about who was human and who was a ghost!

Three figures emerged from the crowd, two tall and one short, two burly and one thin. Together, they headed toward the funeral home.

Cheng Yong and Cheng He were among them. Like the third figure, they had shed their villagers' clothes and changed into black robes.

Disciples of the Yellow Springs Dao!

"That Constable Xiang is keeping a low profile. I thought he'd cause plenty of trouble, so I took precautions, but it turns out he's a coward. With so many 'people' in the village, he doesn't even dare show his face. Now we have to invite him out for a meal ourselves."

Cheng Yong sneered. "He claims to have some tricks up his sleeve. A young pup with barely any hair on his chin, and such a big mouth. I'd like to see how he deals with the Demonic Beings of the Southern Border!"

The thin black-robed figure spoke slowly. "He arrived at just the right time. If he'd come a day earlier or later, it would have interfered with Senior Brother's arrangements. Don't make trouble later. Whatever abilities he has, just kill him."

"Don't worry, Senior Brother. We know what to do. Senior Brother is using the four hundred people of Song Family Village to raise a gu, and a godlike ghost will emerge from the slaughter. We'll get a share of the benefits, too." A flicker of envy crossed Cheng Yong's eyes.

The Yellow Springs Dao had arts for raising and controlling ghosts. Outer disciples like Cheng Yong could learn only the barest fundamentals, nothing compared to Senior Brother, who had come from the inner sect. They had accepted his invitation and stayed in Song Family Village instead of leaving Fengxian County right away to explore the wider world.

It was better to sharpen an axe before cutting wood. As members of the Yellow Springs Dao, one of the Eight Great Demonic Sects, they would be driven off and hunted by righteous factions wherever they went. Rather than rush into Western Chu, they might as well hone their skills right on its doorstep.

Senior Brother had promised that if he got a mouthful of meat, his brothers would get a bowl of soup. Once he obtained the godlike ghost, they could gather some resentment and yin energy to incorporate into their cultivation methods or use to raise their own ghosts. There would be plenty of benefits, and everyone would get a share.

Cheng Yong knew that the "Senior Brother" they spoke of, Duan Wei, wasn't really an inner-sect senior brother. They called him that simply to curry favor.

The inner and outer sects were worlds apart. Duan Wei had received the Yellow Springs Dao's true inheritance, and his methods far surpassed theirs. They had heard that the Scripture Keeper, one of the Six Emissaries, had taken an interest in him. Once Duan Wei refined the godlike ghost, the Scripture Keeper would take him as a disciple.

From top to bottom, the Yellow Springs Dao worshipped the Yellow Springs Mother Tree. At its head stood the Dao Master, who presided over reincarnation and saw through life and death; then came the Saintess, who had reincarnated through many lifetimes; and then the eight powerful Emissaries. These ten made up the highest ranks of the Yellow Springs Dao.

The eight Emissaries were themselves divided by rank. The Left and Right Protectors of the Dao held transcendent status and possessed unfathomable powers. As the Dao Master's right-hand men, they outranked the six Emissaries of Soul Seizing, Life Taking, Virtue Bestowing, Evil Punishing, Scripture Keeping, and Transmission. They could almost stand on equal footing with the Saintess.

Such great figures were far beyond the reach of outer disciples, who had never even seen their shadows. They only knew Duan Wei was about to rise to the heavens, so calling him Senior Brother was no disgrace.

Thus, when Duan Wei extended his invitation, a number of toadies responded. They gathered in Song Family Village, roaming by night like a hundred ghosts, and captured all four hundred or so villagers, not one left behind.

Tonight was the crucial night for refining the godlike ghost. Nothing could be allowed to go wrong.

That was why the black-robed man had said that Constable Xiang couldn't have arrived a day earlier or a day later. If he'd come early, word might have leaked. If he came late, word might still leak, drawing the Six Doors or wandering martial artists who fancied themselves righteous. Their opponents had the numbers, and the Yellow Springs Dao disciples would be in for a bad time.

The three reached the funeral home. The thin black-robed figure stayed outside while the Cheng brothers pushed open the doors one after the other. From the side room came the sound of someone meditating and breathing.

He's as good as dead and doesn't even know it! x2

The brothers exchanged a glance. Cheng Yong loudly called out, "Constable Xiang, the village elders have prepared a feast in your honor. Come along with me!"

Using his elder brother's booming voice as cover, Cheng He poked a hole in the window's oiled paper and blew poison smoke inside. He counted to five and heard a muffled thud from within.

Got him.

The brothers exchanged a smile. Easy as could be, without the slightest difficulty. Sure enough, the young pup with barely any hair on his chin couldn't be trusted with anything important.

"Big Brother, he's snoring."

"Hmph. When I was his age, I never slept so soundly. Not a shred of caution, and he still dares to roam the world."

They pushed open the door and went inside. Two fading stars glittered before them, shooting straight toward their brows.

Thump!

The brothers fell backward, each with a poisoned dart embedded between his brows. Their expressions were calm; they were already dead.

Cheng Yong's face had turned livid, and his eyes were wide as saucers. He'd died with regrets, perhaps, but at least he'd gotten the blissful sleep of a young man.

In the darkness, Xiang Yuan leaped out. Before the two bodies could ignite, he darted from the side room, gripped his long blade, and rushed toward the funeral home's entrance as fast as he could.

The original plan hadn't involved poisoned darts. He'd meant to take on everyone with the blade in his hand. But Wang Wenxu had been right: plans never kept pace with events. The intelligence had been slightly off.

There were more of them than expected!

There weren't just five Yellow Springs Dao disciples in Song Family Village. They were all at the Acupoint Opening stage, and if Xiang Yuan stuck to the original plan, he'd be all but rushing thirty miles to deliver his own head.

Outside the funeral home, the black-robed man heard two muffled thuds and grew suspicious. He hid his right hand behind his back, held his breath, and retreated two steps.

He had opened both his eye and ear acupoints. The darkness didn't hinder his ability to see in every direction and hear the slightest sound. When he saw Xiang Yuan draw his blade, with the glow of burning bodies flickering behind him, his heart lurched. He cursed those useless fools.

And this young constable was cautious indeed. He'd killed two fellow disciples in an instant—he'd clearly come prepared.

The black-robed man raised his five fingers and began the Yellow Springs Dao outer disciples' opening move, Fierce Yin Wind. He was halfway through the technique when Xiang Yuan suddenly lifted a hand and a glint of cold steel shot toward him. He hastily changed moves, dodging with the help of his exquisite footwork.

He had plenty of combat experience. Even in the chaos, he forced his body to twist around and managed to evade it.

One narrowly escaped disaster, only to be struck by a finishing blow. Steady as ever, Xiang Yuan had prepared for both possibilities. The black-robed man's dodge had been part of the plan. His long blade left its sheath, and a fierce tiger charged through the wind with a roar.

The black-robed man saw the tiger's ferocity and didn't dare meet it head-on. He backed away again and again, opening his mouth to shout for help.

In the next instant, the tiger's ferocious presence vanished. He saw the most brilliant blade light of his life.

Heavenly Blade, First Form: Lone Star Chasing Moon.

The black-robed man clutched his bleeding, gaping neck. A gurgling sound rose from his throat as his eyes dimmed and he slowly collapsed to the ground.

Xiang Yuan didn't waste words. He stepped forward and stabbed the man through the back.

With a bang, flames burst forth. The third Yellow Springs Dao disciple was dead.

Xiang Yuan kept moving. He had no time to retrieve his darts, let alone reapply poison or adjust the mechanism in his sleeve. He pulled a black robe from his travel pack and put it on, hid his blade behind his back, and ran toward the center of the village.

With his youthful height and build, pretending to be Cheng Yong or Cheng He would have given him away at a glance. The shorter, thinner black-robed man made a much better disguise.

He had the Yellow Springs Dao's strict rules to thank. Its disciples all wore identical uniforms when they went out.

"Ah!!"

A scream rang through the night sky. Xiang Yuan clutched his chest and plunged into the thick fog. The Formless Seal Method imitated the Yellow Springs Dao's footwork and cultivation method. With the yin wind aiding him, his steps grew even faster.

In the village, thick fog swirled as red light pulsed and flickered.

Everything was hazy and indistinct. Something like an evil spirit writhed slowly, about to step out of the Yellow Springs and enter the human world.

At the center, the four hundred villagers of Song Family Village lay silently on the ground. Their bodies were still. Though they breathed, their faces were pale, and they were arranged within the formation like sacrificial offerings.

Four Yellow Springs Dao disciples in black robes stood outside the formation, holding aloft red lanterns. Their faces were expressionless.

The formation had been drawn with an unknown pigment. It looked like blood and carried yin energy. Under the red lanterns' glow, its talismans crisscrossed while red light pulsed and flickered through the fog, forming a sphere like an egg—or the eye of a demon—spreading a broken web of blood-red veins.

The blood-red veins seemed to be alive. Once they had taken root, the giant eye vanished, and a towering tree slowly grew in its place.

Its roots plunged deep beneath the Nine Springs, twisting and coiling. Its branches and leaves spread over the wilderness. Its sturdy trunk was marked by the passage of time. It was a spiritual root born of heaven and earth, its full form seldom seen by mortals.

The Yellow Springs Mother Tree!

A breath unique to the Yellow Springs spread through the area...

Though the great tree was an illusion, merely a projection, its aura was unmistakable and its presence terrifying. Without concealment, its bone-piercing chill could have been sensed from far away.

Thus, outside the formation, ghostly figures transformed into villagers. Some elderly folk played with their grandchildren; couples strolled beneath the flowers and moonlight; children chased one another. With the smoke of cooking fires rising from every home, it looked like a peaceful little village.

Only when you drew close would you notice their smiles were stiff and their movements those of puppets on strings.

A hundred ghosts roamed the night, disguised as humans to fool the eye!

"Ah!!"

A scream came from the direction of the funeral home. Before long, a staggering figure came running over, clutching his chest. Yin wind swirled around him, and the ghosts paid him no mind.

With his face hidden and his movements furtive, who else could it be but Xiang Yuan?

"What happened? Where are Cheng Yong and Cheng He?"

The four black-robed men shielded their red lanterns, and one stepped forward to block Xiang Yuan's path. He snapped, "Be careful. If you ruin the formation, I'll hold you responsible."

"It's bad! That Constable is incredible. He took out Brother Cheng with a single slash..." Xiang Yuan stammered, his teeth chattering. His voice had changed with fright.

"What sect was he from? What kind of blade technique?"

"I'll show you. It went like this..."

Xiang Yuan suppressed his trembling voice, drew the long blade from behind his back, and suddenly looked up. His eyes were icy cold.

The blade flashed, bright silver, like a venomous snake darting out to sink its cold fangs into the black-robed man's neck.

With a single turn, the man's oversized head flew into the air.

One dead, three stunned. The turn of events had come too fast.

Beneath the blood-red light, Xiang Yuan held his blade at his side. His figure flickered like a ghost, appearing and vanishing amid the yin wind and dense fog as he went straight for the second black-robed man's head.