"Capital City?"
A flicker of cold light flashed in Guan Wanche's eyes, but he bowed his head and cupped his fists.
"Your humble subordinate is dull-witted and does not understand Lord Chang's meaning."
The one-eyed man was named Chang Xuan, a Centurion of the Chang'an Garrison under the Commandant Office.
The Commandant Office of the Great Xuan Dynasty was vast in scale. Apart from its headquarters in the capital, it had garrisons in every provincial capital. Each garrison had three chiliarchs (commanders of a thousand), each chiliarch commanding ten centurions.
Under each centurion were two squad leaders, each in charge of five junior officers, and each junior officer commanding ten men.
Guan Wanche had started as a squad leader — evidence of how highly Chang Xuan valued him.
Faced with Guan's response, Chang Xuan gave him a sidelong glance.
"Are you truly confused, or just playing dumb?"
Guan's eyelids twitched. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead.
But to his surprise, Chang Xuan wasn't angry. Instead, he nodded and sighed.
"Playing dumb is good. If you were a reckless fool, I wouldn't dare keep you at my side."
"People look at our Commandant Office and see power and prestige. But you'll understand soon enough — the court is a treacherous place. Every step forward is a deadly risk. One wrong move, and you're smashed to pieces."
"Back when Prince Pingyang rebelled, his entire clan was executed. Princess Fu'an, just a girl in the boudoir, and Eunuch Lu — an utter fool — even they escaped the capital unscathed. If no one helped them, who would believe it?"
"A single order from the capital was enough to mobilize bandits from two entire provinces, who rushed into Guanzhong to loot, massacre, and silence witnesses — and all under our noses. Who's behind the scenes?"
"Lord Li offered the Emperor a formula for a new explosive, strictly ordered to be kept secret — yet the Maitreya Sect got wind of it and even infiltrated the government office to steal it..."
"The Chang'an Garrison is full of holes!"
Listening to his analysis, Guan Wanche felt a chill creep over his body. He couldn't help but swallow hard.
"My lord, then what should we do?"
"What should we do?" Chang Xuan sneered, his single eye gleaming coldly.
"I knew it. With a case this big, everyone else fled faster than rats, dumping it all on me."
"If I hadn't gotten this intel, I'd still be in the dark, muddling along, becoming the scapegoat. But now that I know — I have ways to strike back."
"Glory lies ahead. Retreat, and there's only death."
"Gentlemen, are you bold enough to wager with me?"
"We await your command, my lord!"
"Martial Uncle, this is Layman Li."
"Greetings, Senior Qingyangzi."
Inside the large tent, Luo Mingzi made the introductions.
Wang Daoxuan already knew Qingyangzi and often visited to seek his guidance.
Qingyangzi admired Wang's unwavering pursuit of the Dao. Though Wang had no fate with the Tai Xuan Orthodox Sect, Qingyangzi still offered him earnest instruction.
Li Yan, on the other hand, was meeting this temple master from Xianyang for the first time.
He saw a man with a broad forehead and kind face, long beard and white brows — a look that exuded otherworldly grace. Li Yan couldn't help but silently praise, What a Daoist immortal he looks like.
"Oh? Layman, you have a fine appearance," said Qingyangzi, stroking his beard with a smile and nod.
Li Yan was momentarily stunned.
"Senior flatters me."
Qingyangzi chuckled and shook his head, then asked,
"May I see that 'summoning slip' mark?"
Li Yan promptly stepped forward and extended his left palm.
He had already learned from Wang Daoxuan that Qingyangzi was a highly cultivated Daoist master. Without his recommendation, Wang wouldn't even have had a chance to go to Mount Taibai and build his observation tower.
Qingyangzi examined it carefully, then nodded with a pleased expression.
"No mistake — this is a Summoning Slip of the Underworld. Layman, you have great karmic fortune."
Li Yan gave a bitter smile.
"Senior must be joking. I'm not a Yin-Walker. Receiving this duty is more of a death sentence than a blessing — if I fail, I won't live to regret it."
"Fortune and misfortune are separated by a single thought," Qingyangzi said, still stroking his beard.
"Yin-Walkers specialize in communicating with ghosts, and many who obtain a summoning slip come from that path. With one, crossing into the netherworld becomes less dangerous. You can even summon underworld troops — a formidable power."
"Among Daoists, many chant scriptures and burn incense daily, dedicating themselves to cultivation. But few truly commune with spirits. Raising spectral troops takes immense time and effort."
"If that's not karmic fortune, what is?"
"As for your path — the Yin-Walker is not the only way. In the Jin dynasty, someone received a summoning slip and dreamt of a paradise hidden in a peach blossom grove. In Tang, a prime minister used it to slay a dragon. In Song, a famous official judged the balance of Yin and Yang through it. You'll find your own path in time."
Li Yan pondered aloud,
"Recently, I encountered something strange…"
He then recounted the incident involving the Cold Altar and the wandering shaman.
Qingyangzi listened quietly, then smiled,
"No matter. If he's a wandering shaman and the summoning slip is involved, let things run their course."
"Our Tai Xuan Sect forbids interference with the underworld. We don't understand it deeply. Just follow the guidance you've received — that may open the door to fate."
"Many thanks for your guidance, Senior."
Qingyangzi's words solidified Li Yan's resolve.
After some more conversation, Qingyangzi took his leave.
Not long after, Luo Mingzi returned with several Daoists, carrying plates of fruits and pastries.
"You all must be hungry. Eat something first — there's no temple meal today."
Sha Lifei blinked in surprise.
"These… are offerings, right?"
"Hahaha!"
A round-faced young Daoist popped a cold pastry into his mouth and mumbled,
"Don't worry, our sect founder isn't stingy. Worst case, I'll set up a ritual and report that disciples were hungry."
Luo Mingzi grinned,
"It's fine. With sincere hearts, rules needn't be rigid. But be careful in some wild temples or ancestral halls — their spirits may not be so forgiving. Don't go stealing their offerings."
Since they'd been told it was okay, Li Yan and the others didn't stand on ceremony.
Tai Xuan's offerings were beautifully crafted. One five-colored pastry, in particular, was a rare delicacy passed down from the Tang dynasty — hard to replicate.
This semi-translucent pastry came in five colors, each with a different filling, representing the five elements.
Its flavor aside, the craftsmanship alone was remarkable.
Sha Lifei stuffed a few into his mouth, then said happily,
"You Daoists are pretty friendly. Once this is over, let Old Sha treat you to a meal at Qingfeng Tower."
"It's the Double Ninth Festival today — how can we not have chrysanthemum wine and crabs?"
Tai Xuan Daoists did not abstain from meat or wine, except for beef, black carp, wild goose, and dog meat.
Since they'd be taking future jobs related to the Daoist world, Sha Lifei wanted to build a good rapport early.
"Save it for another day," Luo Mingzi waved him off.
"The ritual to consecrate the mountain god begins at si-shi (9–11 AM) and won't finish until after noon."
"Once it's over, the mountain god of this mass grave will be installed. A temple will be built and incense offered. The wandering ghosts here can finally find peace."
"After that, we'll need to conduct a series of rituals to release souls — it's going to be a busy time."
Wang Daoxuan bowed respectfully.
"A meritorious act of great virtue."
Luo Mingzi remained calm.
"Balancing yin and yang and protecting the land is our duty. No need for praise."
His tone grew serious.
"But what we're doing also cuts off the fortunes of many vagabonds — including some with real skill."
"Though Lord Fan, the Martial Captain, has already expelled the westbound beggars and set guards outside, they'll still try every way to sneak in and steal treasures."
"Centurion Chang brought a hundred men from the Commandant Office. Add our thirty Daoists from the Disciplinary Hall — our job is to drive them all out during the ritual."
"To avoid misunderstandings, you three stay here and don't wander off."
"Oh, right — you're here to send the deceased home?"
"Yes, it was the wish of a senior Yin-Walker…"
As they ate and chatted, Daoists came and went, changing shifts.
Before long, the time reached si-shi.
Whoosh!
From the distance, several signal arrows suddenly shot into the sky.
A round-faced Daoist immediately stood, pinched a Yang Seal, and twitched his ears.
"Someone's broken into the mountain. The Commandant Office is pursuing them!"
Luo Mingzi frowned.
"Still unwilling to give up? Let's go!"
He led his fellow disciples away swiftly.
Inside the tent, Li Yan and his companions looked at each other.
"Should we help?"
"Nah… With so many experts, who could break through anyway…"
They talked it over, then left the tent and headed for the altar.
By now, it was already si-shi. The ritual had officially begun.
Young Daoists burned incense and chanted sutras. Musicians beat drums, struck bells, blew flutes and clappers — the scene was both solemn and grand.
At the altar's center stood Qingyangzi and several senior Daoists, dressed in formal robes, holding jade scepters, ascending the platform like officials entering the imperial court.
Overhead hung a bronze demon-revealing mirror.
Twelve Disciplinary Hall Daoists stood at the edges, swords in hand — once Luo Mingzi left, they would guard the altar.
Wang Daoxuan whispered,
"I don't know much about Tai Xuan rituals, but I've heard of their 'Thirty True Altars' and 'Sixty True Sanctuaries.'"
"'Altars' are for rituals, 'sanctuaries' for cultivation. Either can function independently. Other sects are similar."
"Judging by this setup, it's the 'True Talisman Altar of Profound Communion' — specifically used to confer divine titles to land spirits…"
Li Yan nodded thoughtfully.
Though this world had no spiritual qi, it did have "Gang" and "Sha" — both used in formations. One used in ritual, the other in cultivation.
If he could build his tower and gain inheritance, perhaps he'd learn such methods too…
Just then, he sniffed the air, brows knitting in confusion.
He thought he smelled… gunpowder.
*(End of Chapter)*