It was night!
After dinner, I had Bai Ling'er go to Zhang Sao's room. Although there was a clear plan, no one could guarantee that there wouldn't be any unexpected incidents. Bai Ling'er didn't object, only requesting all sorts of snacks. Fortunately, I had bought her a large pile during the day, which kept her quiet.
Chen Yun didn't know our detailed plan, but after a few days of learning disguise techniques from Huang San, she had some idea of what we were doing. Perhaps due to her ancestors, or maybe Zhang Sao had told her something, she still didn't interact much with me, but she got along well with others. Upon learning that Bai Ling'er would be learning how to cook from Zhang Sao that night, she voluntarily asked to join.
This made Zhang Dabiao, who had been somewhat worried, finally relax. Bai Ling'er alone could almost sweep away all the ghosts and monsters in the village, and with Chen Yun, who understood illusion formations, it was almost foolproof.
As dusk approached, a faint mist began to rise in the village. At first glance, the mist seemed insignificant, but as one walked on the road, it was impossible to see more than ten paces ahead, even with a flashlight.
"Huang San's effort is quite significant. Creating such a spectacle as dusk falls, isn't he afraid that any hidden masters in the village would be subdued in one move?" Zhang Dabiao clicked his tongue as he watched the mist slowly enter the courtyard.
I shook my head, refuting Dabiao's statement, and explained, "This is not Huang San's doing. If he had that capability, he would have been deified long ago. Every year in the village, in July, August, and September, there's a day when black mist rises. Master said it's due to geological reasons, but I never understood why."
It wasn't that I didn't want to explain. I had lived with Master for ten years and had seen this mist no less than thirty times. Apart from the annoyance of not being able to see the road, there was nothing peculiar about it. According to village elders, it was the vengeful spirits of the Beishan Mining Town who used the black mist to visit their relatives living outside the mining town and check if their descendants were doing well.
I had once asked Master if the villagers' stories were true. The answer was, of course, a stew of bamboo strips and a copy of a small scripture. After that, I never inquired further.
"Is it that simple? It shouldn't be!" Zhang Dabiao reached out and scooped up the black mist that was visibly seeping into the courtyard. The agitated mist formed a five-fingered gap, which was quickly filled by other mist.
Zhang Dabiao brought his hand to his nose and sniffed. "The yin energy in this mist is a bit heavier than usual. Perhaps the rumors are not entirely baseless."
"Does this mist really have the power to induce dreams?" I also grabbed the mist like Zhang Dabiao to feel it, but apart from a chill, I felt nothing else. After studying under Master for ten years, he had shown me countless ways to deal with danger, but I had never heard of mist being able to harm people.
Besides, today's protagonist was not me, but Huang San. Both I and Zhang Dabiao were merely supporting characters.
When the three hands of the clock simultaneously pointed to 12, a piercing, sharp cry suddenly echoed from the west. To ordinary people, this sound was like the howling of mountain winds or the roar of cars, but to those in the Yin path or cultivators, it sounded different.
It was a roar that was almost accompanied by madness and anger, a ferocious roar mixed with bloodlust.
"Is that Huang San? Why does his voice sound a bit strange?" Zhang Dabiao asked me, looking puzzled.
I checked the time on my notebook: exactly 12:00, the time agreed upon with Huang San. But why did his voice sound so peculiar?
"Perhaps this guy has come up with some new trick. After this matter is settled, I'll settle the score with him."
Zhang Dabiao said nothing to this, only frowning as if worried about something, but he didn't voice it.
Following the roar, countless lights flickered on in the pitch-black village, only to go out again. If one could see in the dark, they would see figures rushing out of the rooms that had just lit up, hurrying towards the foot of Beishan Mountain.
Zhang Dabiao had already gone ahead of me. He was the protagonist of this play, the one who discovered Huang San, the "feng shui master," and wanted to intercept the "villain" who had obtained the Hu Kui Seal. I was a few minutes behind. After closing the courtyard gate, I also hurried over.
Although I was only a few minutes late, when I arrived at the foot of Beishan Mountain, it wasn't exactly crowded, but it was certainly a sea of people. However, these people were all hidden in the darkness. If one didn't activate their ghost eyes, some "people" would truly be invisible.
"Bold evil spirit, daring to steal from me! Surrender immediately and hand over the item, or don't blame me for showing no mercy?" Zhang Dabiao, with a righteous and awe-inspiring demeanor, was fully embodying his role. Standing before him was a youth in his early thirties, with a pale complexion and a distinctive eight-shaped mustache.
"No mercy? What can you do to me?" As soon as the eight-shaped mustache finished speaking, he reached out his hand. His arm instantly elongated several times, like Sun Wukong's Ruyi Jingu Bang, and slammed down fiercely towards Zhang Dabiao.
Zhang Dabiao did not meet the attack head-on. He twisted his body and leaped out of the attack's range. As his body twisted, he also grabbed the mountain-splitting saber tucked at his waist and swung it towards the now aged-looking arm.
Clang—
Ding—
Two sharp sounds erupted at the point of impact. The mountain-splitting saber, which had always been effective, struck as if hitting a stone pillar. Not only did it make Zhang Dabiao's arm go numb, but he also felt as if he could barely hold on.
After being struck, the eight-shaped mustache reversed his wrist and swept horizontally towards Zhang Dabiao. Seeing this, Zhang Dabiao raised his daoist robe to block his chest, but due to the immense disparity in strength, he was immediately sent flying through the air.
Zhang Dabiao twisted his waist and spun his body in mid-air before managing to land, but he still staggered back several steps, crashing into a small tree before stopping.
Watching the pine needles fall, I couldn't help but frown. I wondered what was going on with Huang San. Zhang Dabiao was one of us, and we had agreed earlier that he would just put on a show with a few blows and then flee into the Beishan Mining Town area, his lair, and find an opportunity to return when daylight broke. But why did it look like he was trying to kill him now?
"With such little skill, you want to stir up trouble? This item, what right do you have to possess it?" The eight-shaped mustache took out a pendant from his embrace. At the very bottom of the pendant hung a tiger-shaped seal, as thick as a thumb, emitting a faint milky white glow in the night.
The appearance of the Hu Kui Seal caused a collective gasp and slurping of saliva from the surroundings. Even a buddy hidden next to me quietly muttered, "Oh my god! Is this the Hu Kui Seal? It's so amazing, emitting white light in the middle of the night?" Hearing his authentic Northeastern accent, I almost burst out laughing.
Zhang Dabiao stood up, switching from holding the saber with one hand to two. He shifted his right leg back into a bow stance. Seeing this posture, I had a bad feeling. This was the stance he took when dealing with Sui Wan'er.
"Stop the nonsense. The item is mine. If you want to take it, you'll have to use your skills." With a roar from Zhang Dabiao, a faint light appeared on the mountain-splitting saber in his hand. When he drew his blade, the light was faint, but as he swung it towards the eight-shaped mustache, it was already engulfed in a fierce flame.
Watching Zhang Dabiao, like a furious lion, charge towards Huang San, who was disguised as the eight-shaped mustache, I was completely stunned. This was not an act; Zhang Dabiao was genuinely engaged in a life-or-death struggle. Before I could even shout "No," the two had already crossed paths.
Boom—
Bang—
Zhang Dabiao, like a kite with a broken string, smashed through the pine tree he had collided with earlier, breaking it in half, and then lay on the ground, his fate unknown.
The eight-shaped mustache stood still, his expression indifferent as he surveyed the surroundings. When his gaze fell upon me, he suddenly spoke.
"Aren't you coming out to collect the body?"