Chapter 148: Internal Turmoil

As the night deepened, the tense, almost palpable atmosphere that had shrouded Serpent Valley all day began to wane. The dim lights flickered and slowly died out, except for the solitary, chilly Hall of Spirits.

The door to the Hall of Spirits remained ajar, with the cold night wind blowing in, causing the candles to flicker and cast eerie shadows. In the distance, there was a whispering sound—perhaps a low weeping, perhaps a muffled laugh, or maybe just the rustling of leaves in the wind. Whatever it was, it chilled the heart.

In the meager light of the flickering candles, the valley outside was enshrouded in a faint mist, like wisps of ethereal smoke, drifting and swirling in the darkness and shadows.

Within the Hall of Spirits, the only person keeping vigil was Qin Wuyan. He still knelt before the spirit tablet, his head bowed, his gaze unfocused, as if staring into the void. In the copper basin before him, burnt paper money turned to ashes, quivering with each gust of wind. Occasionally, a few ashes would be swept away, floating through the room and eventually settling back on the altar, landing on the offerings.

Was there, in the unseen realms, a pair of eyes watching over all this?

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. Qin Wuyan’s body stiffened. It was not a pleasant surprise to hear such sounds at this moment. He turned around, his brow furrowed, his face showing a hint of surprise, clearly not expecting the person who had arrived.

Before him stood a tall figure, dressed in Daoist robes, with a serious, square face. It was the venerated Daoist Cangsong, an elder of the Poison Sect.

Qin Wuyan looked at Cangsong, and Cangsong returned his gaze. Neither spoke. Cangsong then walked directly to the altar, picked up a stick of incense, lit it from one of the flickering candles, and bowed respectfully before the spirit tablet. He then placed the incense in the incense holder.

Qin Wuyan watched Cangsong’s every move, remaining silent until Cangsong turned back to face him. Qin Wuyan slightly bowed his head, a gesture of respect, though his face remained expressionless. “Thank you, Daoist Master,” he said calmly.

Cangsong nodded. “I was, after all, a guest of the old master. Although this incense is a bit late, it is offered with my sincerest intentions.”

Still kneeling, Qin Wuyan looked at the spirit tablet. “It is no matter. As long as your heart is sincere, I believe my master’s spirit will be pleased.”

Cangsong studied Qin Wuyan for a moment, then smiled. “Young Master Qin, it seems you have never liked me.”

Qin Wuyan raised his eyes slightly, surprised by Cangsong’s sudden question. After a moment, he replied, “Daoist Master, you misunderstand. You were a revered guest of my master, a respected elder in the Poison Sect. I would never be disrespectful. But now, with my master’s passing, my heart is heavy. If I have been rude, I hope you can forgive me.”

Cangsong’s smile remained, and his gaze shifted to the spirit tablet. Before the tablet sat a box containing the sect leader’s seal. As Cangsong looked, a low, strange sound came from him, like the chirping of an insect. Qin Wuyan’s face changed, and Cangsong himself seemed taken aback, but then he laughed. “Old Master, you can rest easy. Look at the fine disciple you’ve left behind. Truly impressive!”

Qin Wuyan’s face darkened, a sharp gleam flashing in his eyes. “Daoist Master, what do you mean?”

Cangsong turned, smiling, but did not answer. Instead, he pulled up the sleeve of his wrist, revealing a small box bound to his arm. The same strange sound emanated from it, clear and distinct.

Cangsong’s mysterious smile widened as he slowly extended his hand towards the spirit tablet. As his wrist box approached the one on the altar, a similar, low, distinct sound came from the box before the spirit tablet.

Cangsong slowly withdrew his hand, turning to Qin Wuyan. “A seven-tailed centipede?”

Qin Wuyan took a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, his eyes burned with intensity. He rose from the ground, his gaze fixed on Cangsong. “A seven-tailed centipede!”

The dim, oppressive atmosphere of the hall suddenly brightened, and the chilling air vanished, replaced by a palpable aura of danger.

Cangsong, however, showed no fear. Instead, he asked, “Do you think your master would be angry if he knew his disciples were causing trouble at his memorial so soon after his death?”

Qin Wuyan snorted. “My master was wise and saw through the meaningless rituals. Even if we were fighting here, he would likely watch with amusement.”

Cangsong nodded, sighing. “Indeed, I spent ten years with the old master, and I believe he would see it that way.” He looked at Qin Wuyan, smiling. “It’s surprising that, despite being his newest disciple, you understand him best.”

Qin Wuyan’s expression remained unchanged, but he took a step forward, his voice cold. “Daoist Master, you are also quite perceptive. Not only did you see through my master, but you also saw through my every move.”

Cangsong’s smile faltered, and he glanced at Qin Wuyan’s footstep. “It has been past the seventh day of your master’s passing, hasn’t it?”

Qin Wuyan was taken aback by the sudden question. The man’s demeanor was strange and unpredictable, and he had already seen through the trickery with the sect leader’s seal. Qin Wuyan thought, *I can’t let him live.* Aloud, he said, “It is the hour of the Ox, and it has just passed. Is there something you want to say, Daoist Master?” He took another step closer to Cangsong.

Cangsong stepped back, nodding. “That’s good. At least I helped your master through the seventh day, as a sign of my respect.”

Before Qin Wuyan could react, Cangsong suddenly moved, dashing to the entrance of the hall. He shouted, “Ah, the sect leader’s seal… Ah…” His words were filled with shock, and then, standing unharmed, he cried out as if mortally wounded, as if attacked.

Qin Wuyan’s face paled, but it was too late to stop Cangsong. His voice echoed through the silent, dark valley, and soon, shouts and cries filled the air. The Poison Sect’s members, already on high alert, burst forth, their voices mingling into a wave of questions, curses, and commands, surging towards the Hall of Spirits.

Cangsong turned, smiling at Qin Wuyan, and waved. “Nephew, I’ve done you a favor. If you ever take the throne, remember this day!” With that, he disappeared into the darkness, leaving Qin Wuyan gasping for breath, his eyes blazing with anger.

As the sounds of the approaching crowd grew louder, Qin Wuyan made a quick decision and, like Cangsong, merged into the darkness.

Moments later, the Poison Sect’s members, led by the three senior disciples, stormed into the Hall of Spirits, their torches and weapons held high, their faces grim and determined.

In the ensuing silence, the night air in Serpent Valley filled with the sounds of battle and rage, sweeping through the valley.

As the night deepened, the first light of dawn began to break. Far from the chaos, Cangsong, flying on his sword, appeared above a small city four hundred miles northeast of Serpent Valley. He scanned the area, then descended to a small, unnamed hill covered in wild maples, where Ghost King, Ghost Messenger, Ghost Li, and Jade Witch awaited.

Seeing Cangsong land, the Ghost King smiled and greeted him. “How did it go? Was it successful?”

Cangsong nodded. “As expected, Qin Wuyan has recovered, and he tampered with the sect leader’s seal. He likely placed a seven-tailed centipede inside, ready to strike anyone who opens it. With the centipede’s venom, anyone who opens it will be doomed.”

The Ghost King laughed, turning to the others. “Even these old tricks still work!”

Ghost Li remained silent, as did Jade Witch. Only Ghost Messenger spoke, “The methods may be outdated, but they are effective.”

The Ghost King agreed. “True, but it’s disappointing that all of Poison Elder’s disciples are like this.”

Cangsong chuckled. “But Qin Wuyan is quite impressive, in a way. A pity.”

The Ghost King gave him a look, then laughed. The group fell silent, and Ghost Li, noticing the Ghost King’s odd behavior, frowned.

Suddenly, from the city, a terrifying scream pierced the air, followed by more screams. “Monsters, monsters are coming!”

Ear-splitting roars filled the air, and a cloud of dust rose from the southern fields, signaling the arrival of a horde of beasts. The monsters and mutated creatures, with their massive bodies and sharp teeth, rushed towards the city. The terrified residents ran in panic, but there was nowhere safe to go.

The roar of the charging beasts grew louder, and the city’s defenders managed to pull up the drawbridge, temporarily blocking the monstrous horde. The beasts, seemingly endless, encircled the city, and those who couldn’t escape in time were swallowed by the dust and chaos.

The five figures in the sky exchanged a look, then scattered. Only the Ghost King remained, watching the chaos, a smile playing on his lips. He then flew higher, disappearing into the clouds.

As the roar intensified, the monsters surrounded the city. From the distant fields, a sharp, metallic cry cut through the air. The Ghost King’s expression changed, and he whispered, “It’s here. Be careful, everyone. Follow the plan.”

The others nodded, then dispersed. The Ghost King watched the approaching sound, then flew up, vanishing into the clouds.

The monster, a massive, tiger-like creature, emerged from the dust. Its body was enormous, with a “king” symbol on its forehead. It had a long, colorful tail, and its claws and teeth were razor-sharp. The smaller beasts cowered in comparison.

Hidden outside the city, Ghost Li murmured, “Chu Wu!”

The monster, Chu Wu, let out a roar, its eyes glowing with fury. It raised its massive paw and slammed it into the city gate. The wooden gate shattered, and the city fell into chaos. The other beasts surged in, and the city was engulfed in blood and destruction.

Chu Wu, having cleared the path, turned, sensing something. Suddenly, from the city wall, a hole burst open, and Cangsong appeared, launching a yellow sword beam at Chu Wu’s chest.

Chu Wu roared, thrown back by the force, but the wound was devastating. However, Chu Wu, one of the thirteen mighty beast demons, had incredible vitality. Despite the blood pouring from its chest, it charged forward, as fast as before.

Cangsong, realizing the danger, dodged and fled, but Chu Wu, with incredible speed, pursued him. Cangsong barely escaped, and as he neared the maple forest, the other companions appeared.

Jade Witch, with her mystical Requiem Seal, and Ghost Li, with his black staff, confronted the advancing skeletal warriors conjured by Chu Wu. They easily defeated the skeletons, but Chu Wu was relentless.

Suddenly, Ghost Messenger completed his spell, and a red light enveloped Chu Wu, pinning it down. Chu Wu, enraged, fought against the pressure, but the Ghost King, descending from the sky, delivered a powerful blow to Chu Wu’s head, causing it to collapse, bleeding from its orifices.

The Ghost King laughed, thrusting his hand into Chu Wu’s skull, delivering the final, fatal blow. Chu Wu’s roar filled the air, and it fell, defeated.