Chixinzi had brought up the Life-Stealing Bone Bowl of his own accord, and it had genuinely piqued He Ping's interest.
"That Life-Stealing Bone Bowl has a rather unusual origin. But to me, aside from stealing other people's lifespans, it's nothing special. If you're interested, Junior Brother He, I don't mind handing it over to you."
Chixinzi spoke frankly. "However, the Life-Stealing Bone Bowl is tied to another important matter. Before then, I'll need to borrow it for a while. What do you think?"
He Ping narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow.
He realized Chixinzi was holding something back—or, rather, dangling a tasty morsel to lure him in. Still, to test the other man's intentions, he played along.
"Chixinzi, I'm determined to get the Life-Stealing Bone Bowl. Don't try any tricks."
"But, Junior Brother, do you really know where this bowl came from?"
Chixinzi asked again.
"The Cheng Family's horse ranch was famous throughout the region. Why did Prefect Sheng of Suian City slaughter the Cheng Family? How did the Cheng Family's ancestors get their hands on the Life-Stealing Bone Bowl? And what's the bowl's true origin? Don't you find it strange?"
"What are you getting at?"
He Ping asked in a low voice.
"Junior Brother, do you know of the Seed Demon Technique of the Sanyuan Devil Palace? It's said to belong to the Thirty-Six Orthodox Dharmas, just like the Immortal Puppet Sect's Formless Secret Treasury. And according to their ranking, the Seed Demon Technique comes before the Formless Secret Treasury, which ranks a little lower."
Chixinzi's words piqued He Ping's interest.
"The Thirty-Six Orthodox Dharmas?"
"That's right. Ever since the ancient calamity of the war between Heaven and Man, strange changes have taken place in this world. In ages long past, most cultivation methods from the various sects and schools were lost, and the old ways of the ancients gradually disappeared.
"People of ambition in later generations sought to comprehend the Heavenly Dao. With great wisdom and perseverance, they created thirty-six orthodox dharmas suited to this world. Across the entire land, only these orthodox dharmas could lead one to the Dao."
Chixinzi revealed an astonishing secret—or, rather, a piece of history.
"Are you saying... only the thirty-six orthodox dharmas can let cultivators break through and attain the Dao?"
He Ping was astonished.
"Yes. The Thirty-Six Orthodox Dharmas are the only path by which cultivators in this world can break through and attain the Dao. Apart from them, there is no other method to establish a Dao Foundation and achieve the Great Dao."
Chixinzi's words only deepened He Ping's confusion. He couldn't help asking, "Couldn't there be a way to attain the Dao outside the orthodox dharmas? With so many cultivators in the world, has no one ever created a thirty-seventh or thirty-eighth Dharma that leads to the Dao?"
Chixinzi burst into laughter.
"Of course not. The Thirty-Six Orthodox Dharmas have already plumbed the workings of the Heavenly Dao. They are the thirty-six methods of attaining the Dao best suited to this world, like the number of the Heavenly Cycle. It can neither increase nor decrease. Even if the Buddha were reborn and the Dao Ancestor returned, they couldn't create a new Dharma for attaining the Dao... However, it isn't impossible for an old method to be abolished and replaced by a new one, like an old dynasty falling and a new one rising."
There was no denying that his words were packed with information. After hearing them, He Ping fell silent for a moment as he needed time to digest it all.
"There are only thirty-six orthodox dharmas for attaining the Dao in this world. That's a surprising rumor. But from what Chixinzi said, there's much more to it..."
In an instant, countless thoughts flashed through He Ping's mind, and he made up his mind.
"I'll take this booklet. I'm also interested in the Seed Demon Technique and the Life-Stealing Bone Bowl's origins. But if Senior Brother wants to work with me, you'll have to show a little more sincerity."
Beneath the Wood-Carved Mask, Chixinzi's expression turned displeased. He considered himself more than sincere, yet He Ping remained ungrateful. Did he really want to fight to the bitter end and keep this up?
(Wait. This man shows signs of blood loss. What he's most worried about now isn't the Life-Stealing Bowl. It's probably that One-Horned Mountain Demon up in the hills...)
But his thoughts moved quickly, and in an instant, he remembered why He Ping had come to Four Peaks Mountain.
"I understand. You mean the Mountain Demon. If you need my help, Senior Brother won't hold back..."
"Good."
The sedan carrying He Ping floated a few inches higher. The paper puppets bearing it drifted as they turned around, and the sedan moved off in one direction.
The other paper puppets followed, one after another. A line of strange figures departed along a beast path overgrown with weeds.
"Then please come with me, Senior Brother!"
A cool voice came from inside the Paper Sedan.
"Very well."
Chixinzi patted the Red-Scaled Earth-Armored Centipede Dragon beneath him. The centipede opened its jaws and swallowed Cheng Zhi, who had lost his senses, whole. Then it raised its head.
The centipede puppet twisted its long body and swam nimbly through the air, following the trail of the departing Paper Sedan.
In the forest, Yan the Second dragged his injured leg several dozen feet before his exhaustion finally caught up with him. He had run with all his might, but now his strength gave out, and he collapsed beside the path.
Yan the Second gripped a simple saber in his teeth. He had even abandoned the horse-cutting saber he usually used for a living, tossing it into the wilderness. Dragging his injured right leg, he had limped half a mile, but he couldn't go any farther.
"No, no, I can't. If I don't keep running, that bastard will catch up again!"
He struggled to his feet, but a dark voice came from behind him.
"Run. Go on, keep running."
A chill crept up from the soles of his feet and climbed to the crown of his head.
Hearing that voice, Yan the Second turned around in alarm.
Beneath the moonlight, a burly figure strode toward him. He dragged a saber, its tip pointed at the ground, leaving a trail of blood.
The man had a Purple-Complexioned Face and no right arm. He held the saber in his left hand. Blood and grime stained his face, and fury blazed in his eyes as he glared at Yan the Second with bloodshot pupils.
"You bastard! You got my brothers killed one after another, and now the Thirteen Flying Cloud Riders have been wiped from the world. Unless I hack you into a thousand pieces, how could I ever rest easy?"
It was Ma Mingsheng. When the One-Horned Mountain Demon appeared, he and the other members of the Thirteen Flying Cloud Riders had tried with all their might to hold it back, but the Mountain Demon had been ferocious beyond belief.
The Thirteen Flying Cloud Riders had charged in all at once. It had been like throwing eggs against a rock, or raising an arm to stop a chariot.
Their reckless courage and blood-soaked bravery had been worth something, to be sure. But against the Mountain Demon, they were no sturdier than paper. In the blink of an eye, the hideous monster had torn them apart and mangled their bodies, leaving severed limbs, shattered skulls, and a horrific scene of carnage.
Remembering how the Thirteen Riders had died, Ma Mingsheng was consumed by grief and rage.
"Even if I somehow managed to escape with my life, how could I explain it to my master? Damn you, you bastard! Tell me—who was pulling your strings?"
He shook the steel saber in his hand. It let out a sharp, piercing whistle.
Whoosh!
A gust of sinister wind swept through the distant woods. The crows roosting in the trees flapped their wings and scattered in alarm. Sensing murderous intent, Ma Mingsheng whipped around.
Clang—!
It sounded like a snapped string. A gray shadow extended from the woods through the air for dozens of yards, tracing a perfect arc.
"Who?!"
Before the word had even left his throat, Ma Mingsheng felt a chill at his neck. His vision suddenly tipped backward, and the pitch-black night sky filled his eyes.
"I'm... dead!"
The instant the Milo Blade's saber energy struck, the head of the Thirteen Riders' leader flew into the air. Just as it was about to land in a patch of weeds, a white figure darted over and caught it in both hands.
"What the—"
Yan the Second was so startled that the last word died in his throat. When he lifted his head and took a proper look, his eyes widened, and his whole face twisted.
The one holding Ma Mingsheng's head was a paper puppet. Its face was pale, with a sorrowful expression painted on it. The brushstrokes made it seem oddly comical.
"Twelve. That makes the twelfth..."
Just then, beneath the moonlight, a dozen pale figures escorting a Paper Sedan drifted toward them.
As the sedan descended, a scarlet shape wound through the air like a long ribbon, drifting among the treetops before swooping down from another direction.
Yan the Second saw it clearly: a Red-Armored Giant Centipede. A Green-Robed Person sat on its head, wearing a Wood-Carved Mask with a long beak like a demon bird.
"Junior Brother, the man you killed with the Milo Blade was Ma Mingsheng of the Thirteen Flying Cloud Riders. There were eleven corpses among the ones we counted just now. Add Ma Mingsheng, and one is still missing."
Chixinzi touched the Demon Bird Mask on his face and looked around, making sure no one else was nearby before explaining the Thirteen Flying Cloud Riders' origins.
"It should be Qi Huiying, the one ranked fifth. I've met her once."
He Ping's voice came from the sedan, cool and indifferent.
"She must have escaped in the confusion."
"The Thirteen Flying Cloud Riders belong to Chongyang Palace. We can't let her get away. If she reveals even a hint of what happened, it'll be extremely bad for both of us."
Chixinzi quickly cautioned him.
"Of course."
Huddled in a corner, Yan the Second heard their exchange and shuddered, sweat pouring from him.
"If you're going to wipe out the Thirteen Flying Cloud Riders in such a secretive operation, why are you two so generous with the details? You're planning to kill me to keep me quiet... Damn, I'm having the worst luck!"
From Chixinzi's tone, He Ping could tell that his "Senior Brother" was deeply wary of Chongyang Palace.
"But there's no need to worry, Senior Brother. As long as she's still within the bounds of Four Peaks Mountain, she can't escape my grasp. For now, the most important thing is that One-Horned Mountain Demon."
He spoke unhurriedly, as though everything was under his control.
"I've made other arrangements to weaken that monster further. When the time comes, I'll have to ask you to strike the decisive blow."
"That's easy enough."
Chixinzi nodded. Behind the Wood-Carved Mask, his sinister, yellow-green eyes turned toward Yan the Second.
"So, what about this one? Should we silence him now?"
A cruel smile tugged at the Green-Robed Person's lips.
Hearing those words, Yan the Second trembled like a leaf in the wind, knowing there was no chance he'd be spared.
Suddenly, a firework burst into bloom in the distant sky.
"The signal's here," He Ping said, his voice tinged with excitement from inside the sedan.
"The other groups that went into the mountains have run into that Mountain Demon!"