“Oh? You’re finally willing to come down from the roof and stop watching the show?”
Nan Zhi looked at the clean cut on the tip of the wooden stick and did not mind it in the slightest. Casual as ever, she flourished it like a sword and raised an eyebrow at the newcomers:
“On such a hot day, you two were watching the spectacle up there while I labored away down here. Do you really think that’s proper?”
—The newcomers were none other than Shen Luohe and Hua Xijian.
The two still wore the familiar purple robes of the Demon Suppression Division, one holding a fan and the other carrying a sword.
They had drifted down gracefully from the rooftop, the hems of their purple robes fluttering in a sharp and dashing display.
“Fellow Daoist Nan, whatever do you mean by that? This is your case. By the rules of the Demon Suppression Division, whoever takes a case must see it through to the end. Even if my junior sister and I had the mind to intervene, we had to wait for you to invite us before making an appearance, wouldn't you say?”
Shen Luohe spoke with a beaming smile, his eyes continuously appraising Wanniang:
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Yin energy taking physical shape and resentment condensing into mist. With grievances this heavy, I wonder why no one ever reported it. Had she stayed here a few more years, I fear Dingyuan County would have birthed another blue faced ghost wraith.”
Cultivators had cultivation realms, and demons had variations in demonic power.
Naturally, ghosts were categorized by their strength as well.
The weakest were low level wandering souls, incapable of even manifesting a physical form. Once exposed to the sun, they would melt away slowly like snow.
Next were gray skinned ghosts. These spirits merely wandered while waiting for reincarnation, and ordinary mortals rarely encountered them.
After that were white skinned ghosts, typically the souls of the newly deceased, which only people with low fortunes could perceive.
Then came yellow shirted ghosts—wandering souls lingering in the mortal realm who refused to reincarnate. Over time, they developed a trace of meager dharma power, posing a slight danger if mortals stumbled upon them.
Further up, divided by strength, Yin lifespan, and time spent existing, were black evil ghosts, red clothed vengeful ghosts, and blue faced ghost wraiths.
Most of these were malevolent entities that harmed the living. Sighting one brought terrible misfortune, often foreboding bloodshed and disaster.
Even higher were ghost soldiers, ghost generals, ghost gods, and Ghost Kings, but such formidable beings existed solely within the Underworld.
These entities either commanded Underworld legions to guard a territory, or had been granted nobility or high ministerial posts in life before becoming kings and deities in death, possessing power comparable to True Immortals.
—The Painted Skin Ghost Nan Zhi had previously dealt with had been a blue faced ghost wraith.
“You two spent a whole cup of tea’s time up there and heard everything you needed to hear. Do you have anything you want to say or ask?”
Nan Zhi was not stingy with her praise:
“By the way, Fellow Daoist Hua, that was splendid swordsmanship just now. If it had reached an inch further, I fear you would have sliced off half my arm.”
Praised by another, a faint blush touched Hua Xijian’s delicate face, and she nodded slightly:
“You flatter me. I merely relied on the sharpness of my blade. If Fellow Daoist Nan had a handy weapon, the outcome of our brief clash would still be uncertain.”
Nan Zhi missed her slaughtering knife all the more.
It was handy to use, convenient to carry, and easy to catch opponents off guard.
What a perfect weapon it was.
“The Demon Suppression Division! You are people from the Demon Suppression Division!”
Young Master Wang seemed to have only just realized who they were. He scrambled over on all fours, grabbed Shen Luohe’s sleeve, and shouted loudly:
“I am Wang Chen, a scholar from Yuelu Academy! I want to file a complaint against Demon Suppressor Nan Zhi for abusing her authority for personal gain, consorting with ghostly entities, driving my father to his death, and embezzling my Wang family’s immortal treasure!”
Nan Zhi could not help casting him a sidelong glance.
His brain was as shriveled as a dried sweet potato; how on earth had he passed the exams to become a scholar in the first place?
He didn't pay any attention to the current situation.
The three of them were talking and laughing—they clearly knew each other.
At this point, he should have turned to the heavens and wailed, “How corrupt officialdom has truly become!” instead.
Yet unexpectedly, Shen Luohe didn't play by the rules.
He first frowned slightly, then squatted down to help Wang Chen up, wearing a look of deep concern:
“Is that so? This official is a Supervisory Officer of the Northwest Circuit Demon Suppression Division, tasked specifically with supervision. Explain everything that happened here in detail. What grudges does this female ghost hold against your family, and why did she kill your esteemed father to vent her anger? What is the story behind the thirty-seven lives of the Qu family? And that so-called ‘immortal treasure,’ what is it? Do not worry. All of this will serve as courtroom evidence in the future to be submitted to Lord Commissioner’s desk for inspection. Speak boldly and without fear; I will never wrong an innocent person!”
Wang Chen opened his mouth, completely at a loss for words.
What could he possibly say?
Confess that Wang Fugui had committed heinous deeds back then, framing the thirty-seven members of the Qu family and poisoning thirteen innocent lives?
Or admit that his father had tried to usurp an immortal treasure and used Wanniang’s corpse to brew wine, only to be exposed by Nan Zhi?
Truly, age brings cunning.
“High Immortals, please hear me! This daughter of the Nan family colluded with wicked spirits to murder my master, and she even commands evil creatures!”
Manager Wang, who had been silent for so long, suddenly found his second wind. Pointing at Wang Fugui’s corpse, he brazenly distorted the truth:
“Had you two not arrived, I fear this old man, the young master, and all these servants and hands would have become meals for this monstrous worm!”
“You thieving old wretch! How dare you lie to our faces to frame us!”
Wanniang’s eyes turned crimson. The long hair behind her grew wildly, and her elongated tongue lashed about as she wished nothing more than to kill him on the spot:
“What nonsense are you spewing?! Didn't Wang Fugui deserve to die?! You old dog! I’ll send you down to keep him company right now!”
“Even if Master was at fault all those years ago, Lord Nan had no right to enact a lynching and privately sentence the entire Wang family to death!”
Manager Wang seemed to have sorted out his thoughts. Looking at Nan Zhi and the martial siblings, he declared righteously:
“Although the Demon Suppression Division is different from normal yamens, this old man knows that all yamens in this world are governed by the Emperor’s laws. Lord Nan stood by and watched someone die; she must give the Wang family an explanation!”
“What talent. As expected of an old fox. Even I was almost taken in by your rhetoric.”
Nan Zhi clapped her hands before slowly exposing Manager Wang:
“But don't bother struggling. When Wang Fugui died, the two of them were right there. They’ve heard practically everything about the feud between the Qu and Wang families.”
Manager Wang looked toward the two in disbelief, only to find that neither Shen Luohe nor Hua Xijian showed the slightest change in expression.
The Wang family’s secrets could no longer be kept.
This time, they were truly finished.
...
Nan Zhi did not look at Manager Wang, finding him both detestable and pitiful.
What was detestable was how he abetted evil and helped tyrants; what was pitiful was that at such an advanced age, despite knowing right from wrong, he still attempted to deceive himself.
In truth, the martial siblings had arrived long ago.
If they had wanted to save Wang Fugui, they would have made a move earlier.
Had Nan Zhi not pretended to kill Wang Chen, the two probably would have dusted off their robes and left without even showing their faces.
As the saying went, immortal cultivators cultivated the heart and cultivated the Dao.
Using the Demon Suppression Division to pressure them was like a grasshopper telling a flock of eagles, “If you don't listen to me, I won't lay eggs.”
—The eagles couldn't care less whether you laid eggs or not, because what they ate were rabbits.
“Who told you the Demon Suppression Division captures every ghost on sight?”
Nan Zhi shook her head, then turned to introduce Wanniang to the two:
“This is Qu Wan, my friend, residing at the City God Temple. Thirty years ago, her entire family was framed by Wang Fugui and died harboring deep grievances. A few days ago, she entrusted me to clear the Qu family’s grievances, which was why I brought her into the Wang family—all of which was reported to the door gods and the Kitchen God. Wanniang, this is Fellow Daoist Shen Luohe, and this is Fellow Daoist Hua Xijian. Like me, they are both people of righteous valor who despise evil.”
“Wanniang pays respects to Immortal Shen and Immortal Hua.”
Seeing that the two did not scream for her destruction as she had imagined, Wanniang lowered her guard:
“All thirty-seven members of my Qu family died carrying unjust grievances. I wandered here in Dingyuan for thirty years before finally meeting Sister Zhi, who was willing to avenge me and right our wrongs. Wang Fugui was killed by my hand and has nothing to do with Sister Zhi. I beg the two Immortals to see clearly.”
“Huh... Lady, I wonder if you still remember a lame Daoist and a young Daoist boy?”
Shen Luohe stared at Qu Wan for a long while before a flash of realization dawned in his eyes.
“Naturally, I remember. In those years, while balancing the books in the distillery, I saw a lame Daoist accompanied by a young Daoist boy in green robes who had no money to pay. Thus, I covered their meal.”
Wanniang was bewildered, but answered nonetheless:
“Seeing this, the Daoist pawned a wine worm contained in a white-skinned gourd to me in place of the meal money. That was part of why my Qu family gained the fame of our ‘Immortal Brew.’”
“So that was it... So that was it...”
A look of sorrow surfaced in Shen Luohe’s eyes as he sighed incessantly. Stepping back two paces, he bowed solemnly toward Wanniang:
“That Daoist was my master, Daoist Qinglong, and that Daoist boy was none other than myself. Back then, seeing your kind heart, my master intended to gift you the wine worm. It was an act of whimsy, yet who could have known it would brew such bitter fruit? Truth be told, my master’s cultivation has made no progress for many years. Only after having a divination performed did he learn there was still an unresolved karmic bond with extensive ties, which was why he sent the two of us down the mountain...
So this was the root of it all along.”
Wanniang froze.
She scrutinized him carefully, yet could not discern any trace of that young Daoist boy in the handsome young man before her.
Calculated by age, it didn't seem to match either.
Was it an immortal’s technique?
“Wanniang is merely of common willow appearance; how could I dare trouble the immortals to keep me in mind? The tragedy of the Qu family was due to my misplaced trust in a villain and Wang Fugui’s greed and deliberate framing. What does that have to do with the immortals?”
Qu Wan fell silent for a moment before letting out a bitter laugh:
“Now that Wang Fugui is dead and my great vengeance is avenged, I no longer have any regrets. It is just that the wine worm gifted by the High Immortal back then has now been tainted by flesh and blood, turning into such a state.”
Everyone’s gaze fell upon Nan Zhi’s arms.
While the two were speaking earlier, she had darted over to rummage through the hair snakes for quite a while, finally retrieving Wanniang’s head.
“Ah? This worm has grown together with Wanniang’s head. Does your master... still want it? Besides, if you take it back, can it really still be used to brew wine? Or take it back as a decoration? How rude would that be?”
Nan Zhi was exceedingly candid as she lifted the skull in her hands:
“Not to mention, placing Wanniang’s head in a room feels weird no matter how you look at it.”
The skull’s ghastly white bone was wrapped in jet-black hair snakes, which writhed wildly as countless fine strands of hair twisted and struggled as though alive.
Through the two dark, hollow eye sockets, one could see a plump, blood-red fat worm fused directly into the bone.
Shen Luohe: “...”
Hua Xijian: “...”
Could they decline on behalf of their master?
Also, don't think we didn't see you poking the skull’s crown with your finger!
Although the Demon Suppression Division doesn't discriminate based on background, doing that truly makes you look like an evil cultivator!
Moreover, at the thought that the wine sold by the Wang family was steeped with this thing...
Rinsed year after year, the woman’s hair soaked soft, minced flesh and skin falling into the wine, not to mention the potential bone fragments and maggots...
Their throats felt a little itchy.
Rate on N.U.
