Chapter 294: Meeting in the Temple

The evening breeze echoed through the courtyard. Grass leaves fluttered everywhere, and the dim candlelight flickered. In the courtyard sat a middle-aged woman, not exceptionally beautiful, but with a dignified air, leaning against a stone table.

The servant below knelt respectfully, speaking fearfully: "We have asked the young master. He says the climate in Dongshanyue is pleasant and he does not wish to return."

Lu Wanrong shook her head helplessly, sighed softly, and said gently, "Don't I know him? He's just looking for witchcraft in Dongshanyue... He wants to open his spiritual aperture, but his father hasn't returned for a long time, and I can't persuade him."

Li Xuanling had only one wife and never took concubines. She bore him two sons, who had vastly different personalities. The elder, Li Qinghong, was bright and spirited, now at the third level of Qi Condensation. The younger son, Li Yuanyun, had no spiritual aperture, was unknown, and was becoming increasingly gloomy.

Lu Wanrong noted Li Yuanyun's changes with growing anxiety. She had spoken to Li Xuanling several times, but whenever Li Xuanling mentioned his legitimate son, he always thought it best to let him be, as long as he didn't harm anyone.

She was an astute woman and inexplicably sensed a feeling of guilt from her husband, who always showed great leniency towards Li Yuanyun, leaving her bewildered.

Even when she had carried Yuanyun up the mountain years ago, besides the overwhelming power of Li Tongya that made her tremble and unable to look up, the other members of the "Xuan" generation, whether Li Xuanfeng or Li Xuanxuan, were always extraordinarily kind to Li Yuanyun.

"Perhaps I'm overthinking it." Lu Wanrong shook her head, dismissing the thought, and said gravely, "What's the news from the market?"

"Begging your pardon, Madam, the news from the market has returned. To this day... there is still no news of the Third Master."

Lu Wanrong was now nearly forty years old. Her talent was not high, and her cultivation was only at the third level of Embryonic Breathing, unable to keep pace with her husband. Furthermore, due to the sensitivity of her surname, she dared not acquire property or wield power, always maintaining a low profile. But now, with Li Xuanling having been gone for three months, Lu Wanrong could no longer restrain herself.

She tightened her grip on the jade cup, her brows furrowed with worry, and said gravely, "Three full months with no word... My husband has always been cautious; something must have happened. What did the mountain say in response?"

The servant immediately knelt down with a thud and whispered, "Madam, Lijing Mountain has been sealed off. We are of low standing and cannot see the young master."

Lu Wanrong's heart skipped a beat, and a deep unease arose within her. She quickly retrieved brush and ink, writing rapidly, murmuring, "No, there must be a problem here. I need to ask Qinghong about this."

Li Xuanling crossed the river again, traversed the sea of clouds for a while, and asked a few people for directions, confirming the way to Luoxia Mountain. He flew leisurely on the wind, occasionally descending to walk, and the journey was peaceful.

This path followed the border of Xu State, where Taoist temples were still prevalent. Li Xuanling checked his direction and, after some meandering, found himself near Bianyan Mountain. This area was now the border between Xiuyue Sect and Tangjin Gate. The desolate land of yesteryear now sprouted verdant shoots, a pleasant sight in the misty rain. There were also travelers on the road, giving it a somewhat bustling atmosphere.

"After all, Xiuyue Sect is the most righteous among the three sects; truly rare..."

Xiuyue Sect was one of the few among the three sects and seven gates that adhered to the Immortal Mansion's original philosophy of reclusion for immortality. Most of its disciples cultivated on the mountain and did not often travel the world. Consequently, there were no widely renowned cultivators, save for True Master Shangyuan, who was acclaimed as the foremost expert below the Golden Core stage. The other figures within Xiuyue Sect remained obscure and unknown.

"Bianyan Mountain... there seems to be a Taoist temple there. Years ago, that temple was coerced by a demon, forced to collect young boys and girls for the creature to consume. I wonder what its state is now."

Under Xiuyue Sect's rule, mutual attacks between Taoist traditions were explicitly forbidden. While mountains, Taoist temples, and small clans proliferated, and private conspiracies, framing, and targeting entire lineages still occurred, leading to annual annexations and assassinations, the competition here was considered much milder compared to other regions.

Li Xuanling lingered in the area for a while, watching the pervasive mountain mist and fine rain. He recalled the Taoist temple he had seen when he came to eliminate demons years ago and mused to himself, "That Purple Mansion wants me to go to Luoxia Mountain, but hasn't given a timeframe..."

Although Li Xuanling was not a coward and had long accepted this arrangement, he still wished to live a few more days and see more of this world. He thought to himself, "Flying all this way has depleted some of my magical power. Perhaps I should visit this small temple, rest my feet, and then continue north."

So he descended with the wind. The world was now peaceful, and the small temple, once firmly concealed by an illusion array, now stood openly displayed. The stone statues on either side were solemn, dripping with rainwater that streamed down their faces. Li Xuanling performed a spell and lightly knocked twice on the gray-red wooden door adorned with peach talismans, chuckling, "A wandering cultivator from the mountains has come to visit; may the temple master please open the door!"

Li Xuanling called out twice, but there was no answer. A slight shock stirred within him. He hesitantly raised his hand, and the gray-red door slowly opened.

"Creak—" The temple door opened by itself without wind, slowly swinging inward. The morning breeze, carrying fresh rainwater, swept into the hall. Li Xuanling stood silently, gazing blankly at the scene inside.

Outside, a light rain fell, and white cranes cried. Inside, however, was shrouded in gloom. The candlelight was faint yellow, and an inexplicable scent of burning incense mixed with the stench of blood assailed him, making him uneasy.

Dark blood flowed across the floor, reflecting faint golden glints. The solemn clay and wooden idols stood above a chaotic scattering of bones. A headless corpse of an old Taoist priest knelt before the altar, his graying hair strewn across the ground, gently swaying with the breeze.

The central prayer mat was covered by piles of Taoist corpses. Layers upon layers of bones were stacked high in disarray, their eyes wide open, yet devoid of even a trace of resentment, instead emanating an aura of peaceful tranquility.

Above the mountain of corpses, a monk sat silently cross-legged, bare-chested. His muscles were lean and reddish, clearly defined. His hands were clasped, and his eyes were closed in meditation. A golden mark glowed incessantly between his brows.

Limbs and flesh covered the gilded talismans on the floor. Blood dripped from the crimson Taoist cloth with a 'drip, drip' sound, landing on the monk's almost perfectly sculpted muscles. He remained motionless, completely unaware.

"Fa Hui..." This was the very monk who, ten days earlier, had inexplicably rushed forward to pester Li Xuanling as he passed through Duanchen Township in Zhao State. Now, his body radiated immense blood-qi, his aura fluctuated erratically, and he sat cross-legged atop the mountain of corpses, drenched in blood.

Fa Hui's ears twitched. His resolute face was covered in dried bloodstains. His eyelids fluttered twice, then slowly opened. His pupils glowed a fiery gold-red, filled with burning rage, as he silently stared at Li Xuanling below.

"Serpentine beast, I have been waiting for you for a long time!"