Inside Xindu City, the streets were empty. All the shops were closed, and every household had their doors and windows tightly shut.
The commoners were all gathered around a ritual altar in the center of the city.
The altar stood thirty feet high, built of rammed earth. Various banners were planted at its four corners, snapping loudly in the wind.
Zhao Qian, the Governor of Xindu, stood at the highest point of the altar. Dressed in red official robes and a black gauze cap, his face was as pale as paper.
Three days ago, Daoist Master Xuan He had found him, claiming that because the people of Xindu had failed to provide annual offerings, the Locust God was enraged and would soon descend a plague that would leave Xindu City completely barren.
Daoist Master Xuan He was the senior fellow disciple of the current State Preceptor. Since the words came directly from his mouth, Zhao Qian did not dare to disbelieve him.
Looking at the black shadows drawing closer on the horizon, he felt his legs go weak. He looked toward the man beside him for help. “Master, will doing this truly appease the Locust God’s wrath?”
Daoist Master Xuan He wore a black Daoist robe. His crane-patterned cloak was embroidered with complex golden runes. With a long beard reaching his chest and a thin, refined face, he possessed an air of celestial elegance.
After a long silence, he looked at Zhao Qian, his voice tinged with a hint of displeasure. “Does Governor Zhao not trust this humble Daoist?”
“I wouldn’t dare, I wouldn’t dare.” Zhao Qian quickly bowed, the veins on his forehead throbbing. “It is just that… this is a human life, after all…”
Daoist Master Xuan He’s expression remained indifferent. “The Locust God’s wrath requires a living sacrifice to be appeased. This girl’s birth signs are of extreme Yin, and she is exactly fourteen years of age—the perfect offering.”
“If Governor Zhao grows soft-hearted now, when the locust plague descends and the hundreds of miles of fertile land in Xindu are turned to scorched earth, leaving the people displaced, I wonder if you can shoulder that responsibility?”
Zhao Qian’s face grew even paler.
The death of a single person was certainly not enough to make him soft-hearted. During his years as Governor of Xindu, he had colluded with Deputy Commandant Guo Pan more than a few times to amass wealth and climb the social ladder.
He was simply afraid.
He feared that if the matter became too public, the higher-ups would send someone to investigate.
After all, performing a public human sacrifice was a capital offense punishable by the execution of nine generations under the Laws of Great Yong.
But he feared the locust plague even more.
If the plague truly came and Xindu had no harvest, he would still be unable to escape when the imperial court came to demand accountability.
Daoist Master Xuan He was right.
As long as he claimed the commoners performed the sacrifice spontaneously, that the girl had offered herself willingly, and then silenced everyone present…
There would always be a way to cover up the aftermath.
At this thought, he gritted his teeth and straightened up, his voice dry: “The Master is correct.”
“This official was foolish.”
Daoist Master Xuan He nodded slightly and closed his eyes again. He gently swayed his horsetail whisk, chanting under his breath.
In the center of the altar, a massive woodpile had been constructed, standing nearly thirty feet high.
Thick pine and cypress logs were stacked together, the gaps filled with dry wheat stalks and reeds.
A thick wooden pillar stood in the center of the woodpile, with a young girl tied to it.
The girl was about fifteen or sixteen years old. Her face was sallow, and she was as thin as a stick, her hair falling messily over her shoulders.
Her mouth was gagged with a cloth strip, preventing her from making a sound. Only her eyes were wide with terror, filled with absolute despair.
Tears streamed down her face, pooling at her chin before dripping onto the firewood beneath her feet.
The buzzing of wings was already clearly audible. Zhao Qian glanced at the girl once before averting his gaze.
He took a deep breath.
“The hour has arrived. Light the fire!”
Four Yamen runners stepped forward, torches in hand.
Just then, the clear ring of a bell echoed from the distance.
Zhao Qian froze for a moment and looked toward the sound.
At the end of the official road, a carriage was slowly approaching.
The creatures pulling the carriage were not horses but mythical beasts that resembled horses. Pure white gauze hung from the four corners of the carriage, the material incredibly thin and light.
Two men sat on the driver’s bench.
The one on the left was peerlessly handsome, with sharp brows and eyes like stars. His gaze was as cold as frost covering a mountain.
The one on the right was refined and elegant, with gentle features and a relaxed expression, like someone brewing tea on a spring day.
One was cold while the other was warm, yet both possessed an undeniable air of nobility. It was clear at a glance that they were no ordinary people.
Zhao Qian was already dazed.
He had spent over twenty years drifting through officialdom and had seen the processions of princes and nobles, as well as the carriages of imperial consorts visiting home. Yet none of those displays could compare to the grandeur of the carriage before him.
The carriage came to a steady halt in front of the altar.
The handsome man on the left was the first to leap down. His movements were as swift as a hawk folding its wings, and he landed without a sound.
Immediately after, the other man also stepped down.
The two waited silently by the carriage, their gazes quietly shifting toward the figure behind the curtain.
The surroundings suddenly fell into a dead silence.
Sensing something was wrong, Daoist Master Xuan He opened his eyes and scolded with displeasure, “Why have you not lit the fire?”
“Human sacrifice… Are you all making offerings to evil spirits?”
As an ethereal and pleasant voice drifted out, a figure of celestial beauty emerged from the carriage.
As she walked, her pale gold skirts trailed for over three feet, yet they remained untainted by a single speck of dust, with a faint radiance shimmering upon the fabric.
“Do not speak nonsense!”
Daoist Master Xuan He’s voice remained steady, but Zhao Qian heard a faint, nearly imperceptible tension in it.
“This humble Daoist is making offerings to the Locust God. You have intruded upon a sacred sacrificial ceremony. If you disturb the Locust God, the consequences will be unimaginable!”
The woman tilted her head, her gaze passing over Daoist Master Xuan He to land on the bound girl in the center of the altar.
“Low-level deities do indeed require the incense of the mortal realm, but I have never heard of one who requires living sacrifices.”
Her phoenix eyes narrowed slightly. “Under the guise of offering to the Locust God, you perform rituals for evil spirits. What should your punishment be!”
“This humble Daoist is acting upon the mandate of Heaven!”
Daoist Master Xuan He shouted harshly.
“In ancient times, during great disasters, the Emperors and lords would always perform human sacrifices to appease the wrath of the gods.”
“What does a young girl like you know!”
Before he could finish his sentence, a black shadow flashed before him.
In the next second.
Daoist Master Xuan He was sent flying by a kick, slamming heavily onto the woodpile in the center of the altar. A mouthful of blood surged from his lips.
Before he could crawl up from the ground, a foot pressed heavily onto his chest.
“Who gave you the audacity to be disrespectful to the Divine Lady!” the man’s cold voice rang out above Daoist Master Xuan He’s head.
Daoist Master Xuan He’s eyes widened. He tried to struggle, but he found that the foot felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, like a mountain pressing down on his chest. He could not even move, let alone breathe.
Yun Shu looked at the proactive Shen Jue and once again felt that bringing him to Xindu City was a fantastic decision.
Although she was skilled enough to deal with these people herself, she was playing the role of a goddess; it wasn't suitable for her to engage in a physical brawl.
The skills attached to the Heavenly Balance Set were perfect for maintaining a goddess’s prestige, but unfortunately, she had used them recently and they were still on cooldown.
She truly needed an enforcer by her side.
Zhao Qian snapped back to his senses and said tremulously, “You… how dare you! Quickly release the Master!”
“Open your dog eyes and look closely.” Shen Jue reached into his robes with his free hand and casually tossed something out.
A waist token traced an arc through the air, hitting Zhao Qian squarely in the face. He cried out in pain and picked up the token to vent his anger, only to catch sight of the words engraved on it.
General of the Flying Cavalry.
Zhao Qian’s knees went weak, and he collapsed to the ground.
This was a Senior Second Rank military post, commanding the armies of the world—second only to one, and above ten thousand.
As a mere Lower Fourth Rank local Governor, he wasn't even fit to carry the man's shoes.
Realizing he had offended someone he shouldn't have, he scrambled forward on his knees to Shen Jue’s feet, propping himself up with his hands as he slammed his forehead into the ground.
“General, please forgive me! This official was blind and did not recognize Mt. Tai! I deserve to die, I…” He spoke incoherently as he kowtowed again. “Please, General, spare my life!”
The commoners below the altar looked at each other in shock.
When had they ever seen the usually arrogant and domineering Governor act so humble and pathetic?
Shen Jue didn't even spare Zhao Qian a glance. He turned and bowed toward Yun Shu, asking in a low voice, “Divine Lady, how should we deal with this evil priest and this corrupt official?”
If it had been before, he might have already stabbed this fraudulent priest to death with a single sword strike.
However.
With the Divine Lady present, he naturally did not dare to overstep his bounds.
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