manynovel Chapter 326 Singing the Song of Allium in Front of the Carriage
Chapter 326 Singing the Song of Allium in Front of the Carriage
Chapter 326 Singing the Song of Allium in Front of the Carriage
Wuyishan, Sanliting.
Since the rattan shield gate hastily withdrew overnight, the mess left behind still needs to be cleaned up. The renovated empty rooms are full of footprints, discarded rags and tattered clothes, and leftover food scraps. Zhou Long was directing his disciples to clean up the mess, while he himself was pacing back and forth in the open space in the center of the camp like an ant on a hot pan.
Many small, cowardly groups had already fled overnight. The once bustling martial arts camp was now reduced to a few relatively concentrated groups, each occupying a corner. The atmosphere was oppressive and subtle, with everyone scrutinizing each other. As a result, although there were fewer people, they needed more space than before, and could no longer indulge in the carefree lifestyle of drinking all night and sleeping side by side.
"Get your hands moving quickly and clear out all that unsightly junk!"
Zhou Long's roar carried a hint of anxiety, "Look at the state of things here! It's a complete mess! We, the people of the martial world, gather here to uphold rules and decorum!"
Several Vajra Sect disciples were diligently cleaning up the trash in the empty room. One of them leaned close to him and whispered, "Sect Leader, we're short-handed. We can't move much stuff by hand or on our shoulders, and it's exhausting for everyone..."
Zhou Long slapped him on the shoulder, making the disciple stumble, then grabbed his ear and said:
"Are you brainless?! Just move all this rotten, smelly stuff out. Ignore all these bottles, jars, lump pieces of wood, and boulders. I have an empty room right next to me, just pile everything in there and lock the door!"
The disciple suddenly realized what was happening and quickly tidied up the mess, organizing people to move the items into the empty house. The chaotic state was finally somewhat improved. Zhou Long then covered his head and sighed, his mind filled with the tragedy of the Rattan Shield Gate, the strange rumors of the treasure, and Jiang Wen's unfathomable figure, who seemed to be involved in everything.
He didn't know how long this precarious situation could last. It might be as fragile as a sheet of paper. After all, these unseen and intangible, bizarre events with one death after another were the most demoralizing. But he still wanted to hold on until the end and see—if they lost Jiang Wen's protection and continued to flee, there would probably be no end to it...
In stark contrast to Zhou Long's thoughts were several people from the Xiantian Sect.
The group of people were huddled together, moving deliberately quietly, exuding a furtive air. Their luggage had already been packed and tied up. The disciples' eyes darted around, constantly scanning their surroundings, especially the path leading down the mountain, as if they were waiting for some signal.
"Sect Leader, everything is packed up."
A disciple lowered his voice and whispered in the ear of the sect leader of the Xiantian Sect, "I think the Five Lakes Sect is about to break down too. Should we... wait a little longer?"
Everyone knows that offering help in times of need is better than adding to someone's good fortune, and that kicking someone when they're down is worse than unintentional harm. Right now, many people in the Jianghu camp feel like they're racing against death, and they're all waiting for the first person to stick their neck out so they can shift the blame and then slip away.
After all, the Wuyi Sect is quite wicked, and no one knows what tricks they might pull. If not handled properly, it could turn into a race between the King of Hell and the Grim Reaper.
The head of the Xiantian Sect was a lean, middle-aged man who stroked his goatee and had a shifty look in his eyes.
He glanced at Zhou Long, who was still shouting and yelling not far away, and then looked towards the direction of Dawang Peak in the distance, which was the territory of the Wuyi Sect. His eyes showed both fear and relief.
"Wait? Wait for what? Wait for that 'Mount Sumeru Palm' to fall on our heads?"
He lowered his voice to a whisper, his voice tinged with lingering fear, “The Rattan Shield Sect has all left. Things here are too strange. Perhaps Sect Leader Jiang is very capable, but as long as we run away, the Wuyi Sect won’t be able to catch us—the waters here are too muddy for our small Xiantian Sect to get involved in.”
The disciple shrank back and listened to his lecture, before finally asking weakly, "When are we leaving?"
The sect leader of Xiantian Sect waved his hand, signaling his disciples to pick up their luggage and prepare to slip away at the first opportunity. For them, the martial arts tournament and their reputation in the martial world were not as important as saving their lives and their belongings.
He lowered his voice even further: "It's alright. As far as I can see, those great gods from Wudang and Xiandu are still standing on the mountain. Who knows what they're up to? This also keeps the Wuyi Sect from paying attention to anything else. As the saying goes, when gods fight, little devils suffer. Let's leave quietly and avoid attracting attention."
Separated from the Xiantian Sect by several empty houses, the leaders of the Wuhu Sect sat together, warming wine over a small stove and chatting amiably, not in a hurry to pack their luggage. The sect leader, Yuan Jiyang, with a smile on his face, was exchanging pleasantries with a disciple from another sect who was passing by.
"...Sect Leader Zhou is right! When we travel the martial world, we value loyalty above all else and stick together like brothers! The Wuyi Sect's martial arts tournament hasn't even ended yet, and we're already packing our bags and leaving. What would that look like? Wouldn't we be ridiculed by our fellow martial artists?"
The disciple from another faction nodded obsequiously in agreement and quickly made an excuse to leave.
Once the man was out of sight, Yuan Jiyang's smile vanished instantly. He picked up his warm wine cup, took a sip, smacked his lips, and his eyes shrewdly scanned the entire camp, especially the location of the Drunken Eight Immortals Sect next door.
A trusted aide leaned closer, his voice barely audible: "Master, are we really not leaving? This place... it's creepy." The aide couldn't understand why the master, who had been planning to leave just a few days ago, was now considering staying.
Yuan Jiyang glanced at him sideways, snorted, and said with a hint of decisiveness in his tone.
"We'll definitely have to leave eventually, but some things can only be seen clearly by staying! We're businessmen. If we don't do things because of risks, why bother with a waterborne business and seeking the Jingnan Prince's Mansion as a backer?"
The Five Lakes Sect didn't want to offend the Wuyi Sect, much less the Jingnan Prince's Mansion. This time, they needed to see clearly whether the Wuyi Sect could maintain order, what the Drunken Eight Immortals were really up to, and what those two figures in Wudang Taoist robes were doing sneakily in the old woods behind the Sanliting yesterday...
He put down his wine glass, his fingers unconsciously tapping his knee: "Jiangwen, Wudang, and Xiandu are all entangled together. There must be some big fish lurking beneath this turmoil. Don't forget that for our Five Lakes Sect, being well-informed is the foundation of our existence. If anyone mentions anything about 'secret treasures' lately, don't miss a single word!"
Directly opposite the Wuhumen garrison was the territory of Zui Baxian.
At this moment, the elders and disciples of the Eight Drunken Immortals seemed completely unaffected by the desolate and eerie atmosphere. They were gathered around a few wine jars that had not yet been removed and a pile of leftover food, eating with greasy mouths and drinking until their faces were flushed. The clinking of their wine bowls, the indistinct sounds of drinking games, and the satisfied sighs became the only lively activity in this desolate Sanliting.
During the banquet, someone brought up the matter of evacuation, but was immediately rebuked by an elder.
"...Leave? Where to? We haven't had enough of the fine wine and food in Wuyishan yet! Sect Leader Jiang is so generous, we should be grateful! If we leave, where will we find such a ready-made feast?"
An elder with a red nose let out a loud burp, patting his round belly. "I've done nothing wrong, I'm content with wine and meat. Those rattan shield gang have something to hide, they were called out by the King of Hell, who can they blame?"
It's no secret that the Tengpaimen tomb raiders were involved, as evidenced by the white-glazed celadon and stone carving fragments they left behind when they departed.
Another tall, thin elder picked his teeth, a glint of shrewdness flashing in his squinted, drunken eyes: "Heh heh, Wu Jia Pi, you're only half right. Wine and meat are one thing, but the second..."
One of the disciples quietly asked, "What, Master? Do you also believe in the treasure of the Western Lu Kingdom?"
"Bullshit! If there really were all that gold and silver, would the Southern Shaolin Temple have been driven all the way to Guangdong? In my opinion, these possessed people have all made great progress in martial arts; there must be something fishy going on!"
He paused to tell me more, then continued, “When I was young, I was a horse caravan driver in the southwest. I had long heard that the Dali Kingdom was once the richest kingdom in the world. A few days ago, I had a drinking contest with two young men, and they said that the Jiang Sect Leader of the Wuyi Sect might be hiding something from the Duan family of Dali in the previous dynasty... the ‘Heavenly Dragon Armory’! It’s full of lost and peerless martial arts manuals!”
What do you mean by that?
"Think about it, how can Sect Leader Jiang be so young, yet his martial arts are so unpredictable? His disciples, some bite, some use hidden weapons, their methods are frighteningly unorthodox!"
Elder Red Nose perked up, seemingly sobering up a bit. "His 'Three-Part Returning to Origin Qi' was so amazingly exaggerated. I think it might be related to this 'Heavenly Dragon Armory'! He definitely knows something, maybe... he's already benefited from it! Rice Wine Elder, don't you think so?"
The last, slightly drunk, portly elder nodded, his gaze drifting towards the depths of Wuyi Mountain.
"If you ask me, those Taoist priests from the Wudang Sect have already lost all face, so why are they still lingering? Do you think that old fox Feng Daode can just swallow this insult? I bet they've heard something and are here for this! Otherwise, why have their people been sneaking around the area these past few days?"
The Drunken Eight Immortals' banquet continued, and the martial world was inherently a carnival under a bubble. The martial world was never afraid of storms; what it feared was the lack of a worthwhile prize. And now, the alluring outline of that "prize" seemed to be emerging, faintly appearing, amidst the whispers and rumors of the martial world…
………………
Zhou Long pushed open the wooden door of his mud house, the creaking sound particularly jarring in the deathly silence.
He had intended to bolt the door, but the heavy wood offered no sense of security, and the room was filled with a musty, earthy smell mixed with a lingering chill. So he simply left the door wide open, leaving only the tattered curtain separating the inner and outer rooms.
Zhou Long hastily washed his face at the basin, too lazy to even light an oil lamp, and lay down in the dark on the hard earthen bed. Exhaustion washed over him like a tidal wave, but his mind was like a taut bowstring; the images of those twisted, charred corpses kept flashing before his eyes—
After dealing with all the troubles at Sanliting, he found himself unable to sleep, only able to stare blankly out into the darkness.
As the leader of the Vajra Sect, Zhou Long naturally didn't have to sleep in a communal room like the ordinary disciples, but instead had his own private room. However, after encountering a series of strange events and fleeing in panic, the village seemed to have lost some of its vitality, becoming eerily empty.
Next to the Vajra Gate's residence was the original residence of the Rattan Shield Gate, but now it was completely quiet. Their cries, arguments, and the lingering smell of burning had all vanished overnight, leaving only a few empty rooms with their doors wide open, like black holes with their eyes gouged out, adding to the eeriness.
He didn't know how much time had passed when a hazy drowsiness finally overwhelmed him. However, what awaited him was not a peaceful sleep, but a thick, acrid, dark abyss.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself standing in front of an abandoned cave. The cave wasn't dark and empty; instead, it was filled with thick, inky black smoke, streaked with embers. A pungent, acrid smell of burning flesh and an indescribable stench, like burnt meat mixed with rotten, sweet fruit, assaulted his nostrils, making him want to vomit.
On the dimly lit cave wall, three twisted figures screamed and struggled as they were roasted, gradually taking shape and becoming complete!
Their bodies were charred black, their skin cracked and peeling, revealing dark red, shiny cooked flesh underneath, and in some places even exposed the stark white bones. Yet, as their charred heads were raised, the two bottomless black holes where the eyes should have been stared straight at Zhou Long.
A hoarse, broken voice, scorched by the embers of the fire, was squeezed from the charred corpse's split mouth, filled with endless resentment: "The soil here... is so cold... so damp... you weren't buried deep enough... not deep enough..."
Zhou Long took two steps back in fear, his body convulsing uncontrollably. His hands touched the cave wall, but all he felt was a greasy, slippery, and terrifying sensation. The burnt color seemed to have come alive as it crawled onto his palms!
The charred corpse in front of him was groaning like a snapping twig, as it used its charred and deformed claws to claw at the ground, dragging its mangled body inch by inch toward him.
Zhou Long tried to twist, to demand answers, to escape, but his body felt as if it were bound by invisible charred flesh, nailed to the spot, unable to lift even a finger. A tremendous fear gripped his heart, and a chilling sensation instantly spread from his feet throughout his entire body.
The sounds of the charred corpses grew closer, their dark, gaping eye sockets seeming to suck him in. He suddenly remembered that yesterday, he and Jiang Wen had dug up the three charred corpses, but he had lazily buried them hastily, not even leaving them a straw mat!
"Come and stay with me... in the earth..."
Zhou Long suddenly woke up and sat up!
The terrifying dream I just had was so real; the venomous resentment of the charred corpse still seemed to linger in my nostrils.
Cold sweat soaked through his undershirt, sticking to his skin with a sticky, icy sheen. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, the deafening thuds echoing in the deathly silent room.
He was panting heavily, rubbing his palms frantically on the rough straw mat as if trying to wipe away non-existent stains, while greedily inhaling the cold air through his mouth and nose, trying to dispel the lingering smell in his lungs, but a burnt stench still seemed to linger there.
The room was pitch black, so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face. There was absolute silence all around; no wind, no insects chirping, and even his own rapid heartbeat seemed to be swallowed up by the boundless stillness after a moment of holding his breath.
wrong!
There's noise coming from the next room!
Hearing is amplified in the darkness, and the slightest vibrations in the air seem to stimulate the skin's senses, revealing details more concrete than sight can provide.
It wasn't the rustling of mice, nor the sound of wind blowing through a door; it was a strange, heavy, and dragging sound of footsteps.
Puff... Tap...
Puff... Tap...
His steps were slow and sluggish, like a fisherman who had just come ashore, dragging a water-soaked sack across the ground, each step pressing on Zhou Long's taut nerves.
Zhou Long's hair stood on end. He held his breath, his eyes fixed on a certain spot. His memory told him that it was a dilapidated curtain separating the inner and outer rooms—
At this moment, the curtains were drawn low and remained motionless, shutting out everything in the outer room from the darkness.
The sound grew closer, and the figure was right in the center of the outer room! He didn't know how he saw it, but he saw something, accompanied by a very subtle crackling sound, like wet firewood popping in a fire!
Puff... Tap...
Puff... Tap...
The shadow stretched endlessly, and through the extremely narrow gap between the bottom of the curtain and the ground, Zhou Long saw an enormous black shadow!
The shadow was cast through the gap under the curtain, its edges blurred, yet it was unusually tall and bulky, seemingly with two horns standing upright, its body almost filling the space of the outer room. Its body had no clear outline, like a thick, unyielding, writhing blob of ink, or like a huge, tattered raincoat covered in mud.
Its movement was extremely strange; it didn't walk, but rather shuffled forward clumsily and awkwardly, and the thud was the sound of its heavy body scraping against the ground...
The moment he saw it clearly, Zhou Long's heart skipped a beat. Fear, like a cold, venomous snake, coiled around his neck, choking him so he couldn't breathe or make a sound.
He instinctively wanted to get up, to roar, to rush out and see what was going on, but his body betrayed him, stiff as a stone sculpture, with only his fingers trembling uncontrollably.
The enormous black shadow in the outer room suddenly and clumsily turned around, quietly facing the curtain of the inner room. Immediately, the gap in the view under the curtain was completely filled and swallowed up by that thick, dark shadow!
Zhou Long felt a cold, malicious "gaze" pierce through the thin curtain and lock onto him, like a frog being stared at by a venomous snake. The premonition of death instantly seized his entire will!
In the midst of this extreme fear and paralysis, an irresistible, abyss-like force suddenly struck. He didn't even have time to see how the dark figure moved; he only felt a sudden darkness before his eyes, as if his soul had been gripped by an invisible giant hand, and all his senses were instantly withdrawn.
With a thud, Zhou Long's strong body, like a puppet with its strings cut, silently slid off the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) and crashed heavily onto the cold, hard ground. He then rolled to the side with a clatter, creating a brief, hollow echo in the deathly silent room, only to be swallowed up by the boundless darkness and the stench of burning flesh moments later.
After a brief silence, the enormous, two-horned figure shuffled forward clumsily and awkwardly, making a terrifying thud as its heavy body scraped against the ground, before disappearing completely into the night...
Puff... Tap...
Puff... Tap...