Fear (Chapter 493)

The moment the old woman died, the surrounding cultists snapped out of their trance like waking from a dream, scattering with panicked cries into the darkness beyond the village.

The air was thick with the stench of blood and feces. Everyone stood frozen in place for a long moment before realizing they had won.

The tension that had held them together dissolved. Several people collapsed on the spot, gasping for breath, but the sound of panting was soon replaced by the sobs of belated fear and the retching of nausea.

Those who had come out of Qingfeng Temple with Li Huowang fared better—they had grown accustomed to scenes like this on their long journey.

Chun Xiaoman wiped the blood from her face. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but her body gave out, and she crumpled to the ground, drenched in cold sweat.

"It's… it's nothing," she managed. "The invited masters have left. This is what happens after a Spirit Invocation."

The child and Gao Zhijian only relaxed when they saw that the others who had undergone the Spirit Invocation were in the same state.

"Aiyo, Xiucai, you're not cut out for this at all. That technique of yours is less useful than the magic treasure Senior Brother Li gave me. Good thing I didn't waste my time learning that useless junk." Gouwa brandished his tongue-ruyi with smug satisfaction.

"Get fucked! That's just the simplest oral formula in the whole practice! You're only fit to compare yourself to that. If you've got the balls, wait until I learn the more advanced Two-Spirit Chart and Three-Spirit Training! Then we'll see who's better!"

"Oh ho! Look at you, talking big! Fine, a bet it is! What's the wager?"

"Gouwa, will you ever shut up! Is this the time for fooling around? Help get everyone to the main courtyard! Can't you see Gao Zhijian is wounded!"

With help from the others, the remaining villagers of Niuxin Village regrouped in the Bai family's main courtyard. To prevent another sneak attack, torches were hung along every wall, bathing the entire compound in blazing light.

Though they had won, a thin veil of grief settled over Niuxin Village. The reason was plain: twelve bodies lay in the main hall, covered in white cloth.

Niuxin Village had never been large to begin with. Of the twelve dead, even if they hadn't been friends to the living, they were at least familiar faces—people you'd exchanged a few words with.

"Bada bada." Lü Zhuangyuan puffed gloomily on his tobacco pipe. Two of the dead had been his newest apprentices, and one of them had been the most talented. What a waste.

"Ah… why did bandits suddenly show up, anyway? Isn't Great Liang supposed to be peaceful?"

"Those weren't bandits," Chun Xiaoman said, having recovered enough to help tend the child's wounds as she spoke.

"Those people kept saying something about 'Yú'er Shén, Yú'er Shén.' They seemed to have gotten mixed up in some superstitious nonsense."

"Yeah, I don't think they were bandits either," a seasoned village militiaman cut in. "When bandits hit my old village, they went straight for the wealthy households, grabbed what they could, and ran. They wouldn't go after tenant farmers like this."

Lü Zhuangyuan tapped his pipe against a pillar, then dug some more dark-yellow tobacco from his pouch and packed it in. "When you've got a decent life, why would you go killing people? Nothing better to do with your hands."

"If we want to know why they came after us, why not just ask them?" From the main gate, Gouwa's voice preceded him as he dragged something inside.

The others gathered around, and what they saw made them jump. It was barely recognizable as a person—every limb and facial feature had been twisted out of place, warped into a grotesque, lopsided monster.

"How about that? Aren't my divine needles something else? One shot from my needle and this guy hit the floor—can't walk, can't die. Just the right state for questioning."

A crowd formed around the thing, but for a moment, no one spoke.

"How do we question him? Interrogation has always been Senior Brother Li's specialty, and he's not here."

"Let me!" At the thought of Nan'er's death, Chun Xiaoman's fury flared. She grabbed a bamboo broom from the corner and beat the man mercilessly over the head and body.

When his twisted body was covered in black-and-blue welts, she stopped and snarled, "Talk! Why did you come to our village to kill people!"

"You rancid bitch! If you've got the spine, kill me! Kill me, and I'll become one of Yú'er Shén's ghosts! In my next life, I'll be an emperor! And you stubborn fools will only be fit to be pigs and dogs, eating shit for the rest of your lives!" The cultist jeered from a mouth located beneath his arm.

"You think I wouldn't dare?!" Chun Xiaoman's single arm whipped out her sword in a flash, pressing it against his throat, just left of his ear.

Facing his contemptuous grin, her anger surged. She genuinely wanted to cut him down.

"Aiyah, aiyah, that won't do. Watch how it's done." Gouwa said, walking out.

When he returned, he was wearing a red Daoist robe and carrying an armful of knives of various sizes.

"Senior Brother Gouwa, why are you wearing Senior Brother Li's clothes? And why are you holding my pig-butchering knives?" the child asked, curious.

"Less talk, just watch!" Gouwa squatted down in front of the captive, cleared his throat a few times, and mimicked Li Huowang's tone. "I know you're not afraid of death. But what about a fate worse than death?"

With that, he began laying out the knives one by one in neat rows. There was a sharp-pointed knife for piercing a pig's heart, meat hooks for hanging a carcass, a wide-backed cleaver for splitting bones, and a small slicing knife for scraping off bristles.

The man's eyes twitched at the sight of the cold, gleaming blades, but he still shouted, "You motherless bastard! If you've got the balls, kill me!"

"Oh? Still got a stiff tongue? So… which one should I start with?"

In the end, Gouwa's hand didn't close around any of the knives. Instead, he picked up an ordinary, rough hemp rope. "Heh heh. Didn't expect me to pick the rope, did you? How about we start with this for an appetizer?"

"This rope isn't silk or satin. It's rough. Aiyo, look at how rough it is." Gouwa pressed the rope against the man's skin and scraped. The spot immediately turned red.

"So, here's what I'm thinking. I'll thread this right between your legs, left and right, and pull it back and forth, slow like a saw. Since it's a rope and not a blade, it's rough. It'll be just like grinding ink—little by little, bit by bit, turning your skin and your flesh into a fine paste."

As Gouwa described it, the man's eyes gradually filled with terror, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably.

"Oh, right. And since it goes between your legs…"

By the time Gouwa was pulling the rope and describing the process in vivid detail, the man had completely broken down. Snot and tears streamed down his face, and his body shook like a leaf in a storm. "I'll talk! I'll talk!! I'll tell you everything! Please, just kill me quickly!! Waaahhh…"

Seeing this, Gouwa clapped his hands in excitement and turned around triumphantly. "Ha! How about that? See how capable I am!"

But the looks he received were not the admiration and respect he had imagined. They were wariness and unease.

"What are you all staring at me like that for? I didn't do anything! I was just imitating how Senior Brother Li talks!"