Chapter Forty-Four: Upon Blackstone Mountain

Li Chongyuan drew a handful of snow lotus pills from his robe and pushed them into Du Xin’s mouth. The Tianshan snow lotus was famed for its remarkable effect on expelling poison and healing wounds. In less than the time it took for half a stick of incense to burn, the pallor faded from Du Xin’s face, replaced by a faint flush as he slowly regained consciousness.

The moment he saw Li Chongyuan, he seized his arm anxiously. “Go save Master—quick! They’ve fallen victim to a sneak attack by those fiends and are now besieged at the foot of Blackstone Mountain. It won’t be long before those villains use them as a blood sacrifice to consecrate their banner! Hurry!”

After parting ways with Zi Wuzhuo and the others that day, Du Xin had come alone to Hengyang. Following the secret signs left by Yang Wuji, he found their residence deserted. In a corner, a coded message revealed that a group of villains—likely connected to Zi Lan—had been discovered and trailed; Tianshan disciples who saw the sign were to hurry to their aid.

Du Xin, not daring to delay, left a message at the city gate and set off in pursuit. The code Li Chongyuan had found at the gate was left by Du Xin.

Du Xin’s pursuit led him to Blackstone Mountain, where he noticed many oddly dressed figures coming and going. Not daring to act rashly, he found an opportunity to seize a runner and interrogated him in private. Unable to withstand the pressure, the man confessed everything.

It turned out the gathering was to avenge the massacre of their sect by the righteous martial world twenty years prior, and their first target was the Tianshan Sect. During a recent meeting, four strangers had infiltrated to eavesdrop, but were discovered, and a fight broke out. Though outnumbered, the four were extraordinary fighters, causing heavy losses to the villains. In the end, the Hainan Sect’s Flaming Array was used to trap them. The plan was to burn them alive on the spot, but the Hainan Sect’s leader, Scarlet Flame, recognized Yang Wuji of the Tianshan Sect among them, and suggested waiting a few days for an auspicious date to use them in a blood ritual to consecrate their banner. Thus, they were imprisoned in a cave on Blackstone Mountain.

Upon hearing that his master had been captured, Du Xin was frantic. Knowing he couldn’t storm the place alone nor seek help elsewhere, he tried to find a chance to sneak into the cave and rescue his master. But the defenses at Blackstone Mountain were formidable; even after waiting several days, no opportunity presented itself. Tonight was the night of the ritual, and Du Xin could wait no longer—he charged up the mountain, fully prepared to die in the attempt.

Outnumbered and outmatched, he failed to rescue anyone and was instead bitten by an iron-thread snake. Only by sheer willpower had he managed to reach this place; otherwise, he would have died in vain. How could Li Chongyuan delay any longer?

He immediately sprang up to go save them. Du Xin grabbed his arm, warning, “You mustn’t underestimate them. Though they’re a ragtag bunch, there are many masters among them, and several excel at using concealed weapons. They’re not to be taken lightly.”

Lan Wutong spoke up, “Brother Chongyuan, let me go with you. I examined Du Xin’s wound just now—there must be someone from the Miao Witch Sect involved. The Witch Sect and our Golden Silkworm Sect have long been bitter enemies, constantly embroiled in deadly feuds. I cannot let this chance slip by.”

Li Chongyuan knew his own martial arts were formidable, but he was no match for venomous sorcery. Having Lan Wutong along would be an extra safeguard, so he nodded his assent. Using their lightness skills, they raced to the foot of Blackstone Mountain. In the distant woods at the base, they saw a bamboo pole with a green lantern hoisted high, emanating an eerie glow amid the darkness.

Sharing a glance, they dashed toward the lantern. What seemed a distance of over a mile took them the time of half a stick of incense, yet the green lantern remained high and far ahead. As they pressed on, they realized the lantern now hung upside down, the pole’s end pointing skyward and the lantern downward.

Li Chongyuan halted, grabbing Lan Wutong, who was about to run ahead. “Something’s odd here. Let’s be careful.” He picked up a few stones, channeled his internal energy, and hurled them at the lantern. Suddenly, the lantern’s image rippled like water. Looking closely, they realized they were standing at the edge of a vast lake and the green lantern was merely its reflection upon the water.

Had they not stopped, they would have plunged straight into the lake. Glancing around, they now saw the green lantern planted not far behind them, though it had been invisible when they first arrived.

Li Chongyuan put his finger to his mouth, then raised it to the air to feel the wind. Lan Wutong, frowning beside him, said, “That’s disgusting! If you want to test the wind, just toss some grass; no need to suck your finger.” Li Chongyuan only smiled wryly. When they’d arrived, the wind had been from the south and they’d run north, but now the breeze was from the west. The wind couldn’t possibly have changed so drastically. Clearly, they’d been led astray: without realizing it, they had shifted from running north to running east.

After a moment’s thought, Li Chongyuan understood. This was a minor technique from the art of Qimen Dunjia, which was said to encompass all mysteries of heaven and earth for those who truly mastered it—though few could ever do so. Some people, however, focused on certain aspects, developing unique skills. These were considered minor, unorthodox arts rather than the true path. One such art was the “Chaos Barrier,” designed to confuse the senses and make one lose all sense of direction.

Unfortunately, this trick only worked at night or indoors, away from sunlight. The foot of Blackstone Mountain was not an open plain but a wide valley, its twin peaks nearly touching above, effectively blocking out the sun. Even in broad daylight, not a single ray pierced the valley floor—making it an ideal place for the Chaos Barrier.

Understanding this, the two were no longer surprised. Correcting their path by the wind, they started back the way they came. Suddenly a ghostly voice drifted through the air: “You’ve uncovered my little trick, it seems. I misjudged you.” The voice was at once near and far, at times whispering in their ears, at others echoing from the sky. It was deeply unsettling.

Suddenly, a rough voice boomed, “Granny Minghe, your brats still haven’t come back—maybe these two killed them! And you’ve got time to chatter?” In a flash, a pale figure appeared before them: an old woman garbed in white clothes and cap, like mourning attire. Anxiously she demanded, “Did you really kill my grandsons?”

Li Chongyuan answered, “If those chasing my senior brother were your grandsons, then yes, I killed them. There’s still time to collect their bodies!”

Rage flitted across the old woman’s face. She said coolly, “No need to bother with the bodies. I’ll send you both down to accompany them.” With that, her gnarled, talon-like hands shot forward to claw at them. Li Chongyuan moved to block her, but Lan Wutong shouted, “Watch out for hidden weapons!” With a swish, her soft whip lashed out, intercepting Granny Minghe’s hands. Only then did Li Chongyuan notice the old woman’s fingernails—razor-sharp and glimmering with a faint blue light, clearly laced with deadly poison. A single scratch could be fatal.

He had hesitated to fight the elderly woman, but her viciousness left him no choice. In righteous fury, he drew his sword and thrust at her. Not wishing to prolong the fight, she turned and vanished in a blink, her figure flickering as she sped away.

Li Chongyuan and Lan Wutong stared in astonishment. “What kind of lightness skill is that? She’s impossibly fast—truly beyond belief!”

From afar, Granny Minghe stood atop a hill, waving her hands. Instantly, Li Chongyuan felt the surrounding landscape shift and blur: at times he seemed to be veering left, at others to the right. He grew dizzy and disoriented. Lan Wutong, her internal strength inadequate, could not withstand it and began retching beside him.

Li Chongyuan quickly placed his palm on her back and channeled his energy to steady her. A warm current flowed through her, calming her mind. With a long sigh of relief, she said, “Brother Chongyuan, that old hag’s tricks are quite something. Let me deal with her using Miao sorcery!” She drew a small bamboo flute from her robe and began playing. The notes were not clear and melodious but low and nearly inaudible.

In less than half a stick of incense, a buzzing filled the air—growing louder and louder. Li Chongyuan looked carefully and saw a swarm of wild bees, as large as moths, circling them like a black cloud. As the bees multiplied, Lan Wutong sharply changed her tune, and the swarm scattered in all directions.

Moments later, screams and shouts erupted from the woods and rocks. People fled in panic, slapping desperately at the bees covering them. As they scattered, the illusion dissolved, and the world seemed suddenly brighter.

Li Chongyuan noticed scraps of cardboard and oilcloth on the ground, painted with images of rocks and trees. He couldn’t help but laugh. “So that’s Granny Minghe’s great magic—just a charlatan’s tricks! I thought she truly had the power to reshape the world!”

Lan Wutong laughed too. “These fiends can only fool the ignorant. But wild bees act on instinct—her illusions won’t fool them.”

A sharp, grating voice called out from afar, “May I ask, young lady, are you from the Golden Silkworm Sect of Miao?” The speaker dressed in black with a white cloth tied around his head, his voice shrill and unpleasant, like nails scraping a cauldron.

Lan Wutong answered sternly, “Yes, I am Blue Wutong, protector of the Golden Silkworm Sect. What business have you?”

A chilling laugh followed. “Excellent! I’ve long heard that Blue Wutong’s poison and insect arts are second only to the Poisoned Bodhisattva herself. Seeing you today, it is indeed so.” Lan Wutong whispered, “He must be from the Witch Sect—an enemy come to find me!” Then she called out, “Are you a master of the Witch Sect?”

The man replied, “I am Dao Jinmang!” Lan Wutong’s heart skipped a beat. Dao Jinmang was one of the Witch Sect’s three great elders, his status even surpassing the sect leader, and his mastery of poisons and venom unmatched. Dao Jinmang continued, “In recent years I have been refining living puppets. Though I have made many, none have been exceptional. Blue Wutong, with your peerless intelligence and mastery of the poisonous arts, if I could capture and make you into my puppet, you would be the greatest treasure in the world. To have your help—what greater fortune could there be?”