Shuinan's Ghost Marriage

The cultivator stopped in his tracks and looked Mo Chen up and down.

"You must be from out of town, fellow Daoist? East Terrace Mountain ranks first among the Maozhou Eight Scenic Views. Every evening, you can see the East Terrace Sunset here. Today also happens to be the fifteenth, so this evening you'll get to see another of the eight views on the river—the Dragon Wall Returning Waves. Two sights on the same day, two of the eight views in a single visit. That kind of luck doesn't come often."

With that, the Green-Robed Cultivator cupped his hands and hurried after his companions up the mountain.

Mo Chen had glanced at the Travel Map of Maozhou. It did indeed have eight red circles marked on it, with Shuinan Village at the intersection of two of them. So they marked eight scenic attractions.

Since I'm already here, I might as well take a look.

Mo Chen simply followed the crowd up the mountain for a while, then found an inconspicuous stone ledge beside a cliff and stopped there.

The setting sun had just sunk to the ridgeline across the Mao River. Its evening light slanted across the river, then reflected off the water onto the cliffs of East Terrace Mountain, making the entire rock face look as though it had been splashed with gold paint.

The East Terrace atop the mountain seemed to float in that golden halo. The light traced the outlines of its upturned eaves in exquisite detail, making it look from afar like a heavenly palace radiating golden light.

Mo Chen squinted at it for a while and gave the attraction full marks in his mind.

The eight scenic views certainly lived up to their reputation.

The crowd beside the cliff showed no intention of dispersing. Instead, more and more people gathered.

Mo Chen glanced at the cultivators sitting on the ground around him. Some took dry rations and waterskins from their storage pouches, while others simply spread out meditation cushions and settled in for a long wait. Clearly, they were all waiting for the second spectacle.

Before long, a wave rose out of nowhere in the middle of the river. It truly did bulge up from the calm surface without any apparent cause.

The windless wave stood roughly ten feet high and slammed hard into the cliff at the foot of East Terrace Mountain.

The crest shattered into countless fragments of jade, spraying in every direction beneath the golden sunset. Then a second wave rose, with a third close behind. Wave followed wave, their rhythm accelerating until they merged into an unbroken expanse of golden blossoms.

Most remarkable of all, the waves struck a natural hollow in the cliff. The sound of the water echoed back and forth inside it, sounding like one dragon's roar after another.

Dragon Wall Returning Waves!

As the sky darkened, the moon peeked out from behind the eastern mountains. Silver light spilled across the river and mingled with the lingering sunset, turning the water into a length of silk, half gold and half silver.

After nightfall, a dozen or so streaks of sword light lit up along the mountain path at once, trailing long wakes as they shot toward Maozhou City.

They left as soon as the spectacle ended, brisk and decisive.

Mo Chen wanted to leave too, but then remembered his appointment with the merchant who bought spirit herbs. Not wanting to draw attention either, he abandoned the idea of flying on his sword and turned to follow the groups of mortals down the mountain.

Shuinan Village at the foot of the mountain was much quieter than it had been at dusk.

The cultivators had flown off on their swords, and the wandering martial artists had ridden away on their horses. Most had dispersed in a rush, leaving only a handful of rogue cultivators carrying packs as they walked through the village.

Following the old shopkeeper's directions, Mo Chen found the Cloud Arrival Inn at the village entrance. Its frontage was small, with an oil-paper lantern bearing the words "Cloud Arrival" hanging outside. Beneath it stood a plump innkeeper with a cloth wrapped around his head, his belly thrust forward as he directed a waiter to hang red silk over the doorframe.

"The Cloud Arrival Inn?"

Mo Chen suddenly remembered arriving in Maozhou seventy years ago, driven there by the Monster Uprising with no other choice. Back then, plenty of touts outside the Teleportation Array had been soliciting guests for this very inn.

Who would have thought they'd opened a branch here too?

"Innkeeper, I need a room."

Mo Chen handed over the token of introduction, a bamboo plaque given to him by Shopkeeper Zhang in Maozhou City.

The plump innkeeper took the plaque and turned it over a couple of times. An amiable, business-friendly smile spread across his face. "The proprietor sent word. We've kept a superior room for you. You've arrived at just the right time, fellow Daoist. It's the fifteenth today, and East Terrace Mountain was bustling. Did you see the sunset or the returning waves?"

"Both," Mo Chen replied casually, sweeping his gaze across the hall.

Two or three tables were sparsely occupied, all by people dressed as rogue cultivators. They had barely touched their food and wine; instead, every one of them had their ears pricked up, listening to a white-haired old man speaking in the corner.

The old man was regaling several rogue cultivators at the next table, spittle flying. "Please don't blame an old man for talking too much, fellow Daoists. The East Terrace Sunset and Dragon Wall Returning Waves are indeed sights worthy of immortals. Over the course of a year, the visitors could tread the mountain path three inches lower. But do you know how many disasters sightseeing has brought these past two years?"

Several young rogue cultivators exchanged looks. "What disasters?"

"Disappearances."

The old man set his teacup down heavily on the table. "Just among those I've seen with my own eyes, there was a rogue cultivator at the qi refinement fifth layer last autumn. After watching the sunset, he said he'd stay in the village for a night. The next day, he was gone. Later, I heard from the City Guard in Maozhou City that at least thirty or forty people disappear from Shuinan Village every year. But since it's outside the city, the City Guard can't be bothered with it."

A cultivator holding a sword at the next table sneered. "It's a village out in the wilderness. Encountering a Demon Beast is hardly unusual."

"Demon Beasts? If a Demon Beast attacked someone, surely it'd leave some blood or bones behind? But with those missing people, not even a strand of hair can be found. Besides, what formidable Demon Beasts are there within a hundred miles of East Terrace Mountain? When a Foundation Establishment Realm cultivator sweeps the area with Divine Sense, not even an insect can hide."

"The locals have learned their lesson. Once night falls, they never stay overnight on East Terrace Mountain. Did you see those empty stone houses in this village? They belong to the locals. Once the sun sets, they'd rather walk ten miles along mountain paths to another village than stay here."

"So everyone staying at this inn is an outsider?"

"Haha, I can't guarantee it, but probably."

At that, Mo Chen's expression remained unchanged, but he suddenly remembered that the shopkeeper had told him to stay at the inn in Shuinan Village and wait for him.

Did the merchant delivering the goods arrange to meet in the village for convenience, or did he have some ulterior motive?

The plump innkeeper handed him a room-access token. "Sir, this access token can automatically detect your room's formation. You can use it to activate and deactivate the formation automatically."

Mo Chen took the access token but did not hurry upstairs. Standing at the foot of the stairs, he silently spread out his Divine Sense.

There were six cultivators in the inn. Surprisingly, he had the highest cultivation at the eighth layer; the others were all at the second or third layer of Qi Refining.

The alley outside the inn was deserted. A few stray cats crouched on the eaves, their tails flicking back and forth.

Farther away lay the black silhouette of East Terrace Mountain and the dark surface of the Mao River.

Mo Chen was about to turn and head upstairs when, from the corner of his eye, he suddenly caught a patch of red light in a distant mountain hollow.

Mo Chen channeled Dharma Power into his eyes and saw it more clearly. There was a mountain village roughly five miles beyond Shuinan Village.

Strangely, every household in that village had lanterns hanging high, staining the entire hollow a dark red.

After considering it briefly, Mo Chen climbed straight out the window and rose into the air on his sword.

At Mo Chen's speed, he covered the five miles in half an incense stick's time.

A large stone stood at the village entrance, engraved with three characters: Northwater Village.

From above, the layout of Northwater Village was clear at a glance.

Seventy or eighty households lay scattered through the mountain hollow. Their houses had stone walls and thatched roofs made from local materials, no different from those in Shuinan Village. Yet large red lanterns hung beneath every household's eaves, their red halos joining into one continuous glow.

Stranger still, there was not a single person in sight.

Not even a dog!

It was completely abnormal.

Mo Chen hovered in midair and spread out his Divine Sense again, sweeping through every house.

How strange. No people, and no fluctuations of Spiritual Power either.

When things stray from the ordinary, some monster must be at work!

Mo Chen concealed his aura, lightly touched his toes to the roof tiles, and skimmed along the eaves. Then he hovered above the center of the village and spread out his Divine Sense.

Suddenly, Mo Chen's expression shifted, and he descended into a courtyard.

Then he discovered that these red lanterns bore the character for "mourning."

Something's wrong. Is this a damned funeral or a wedding?