"What… why not?"
Seeing Wang Daoxuan's firm refusal, Sha Lifei looked puzzled.
Even Li Yan turned to the Daoist.
Over this time, he had learned much about the mysterious path from Wang Daoxuan.
"Installing the filth" originated from Buddhist practices. When a Buddha statue was completed, symbolic organs were placed inside, accompanied by various rituals to imbue the statue with greater spirituality.
The methods for installing the filth were numerous, each sect having strict traditions and complex procedures.
For instance, before installation, a purification ritual was required: the statue's interior had to be cleaned, fumigated with incense, sprinkled with safflower water, and finally smoked with pine resin and frankincense.
The selection of materials for the central channel, the pairing of five-colored gems, and even the monks performing the ritual were subject to strict rules.
After Buddhism took root in Shenzhou, crafting Buddha statues often involved hiring skilled mysterious path artisans, and this practice gradually spread and flourished.
When used properly, this method more easily gathered divine stellar energy.
Yet it was unclear why Wang Daoxuan was so wary.
Facing their gazes, Wang Daoxuan stroked his beard and shook his head. "Installing the filth and inviting a deity isn't a big deal. Almost every theater troupe does it, some with centuries-old traditions, their incense and divine stellar energy thriving. They even perform for ghosts and gods during the Ghost Festival without hesitation."
"But this newly arrived shadow puppet troupe is definitely suspicious."
"Xianyang City isn't big, but it's not small either, with over a dozen troupes. For them to gain a foothold, they'd likely resort to some tricks."
"Inviting a deity? I'm afraid they're inviting something else…"
"Besides, shadow puppet troupes are different. Other troupes worship the Old Actor God, but shadow puppeteers revere Shao Weng, the great Han Dynasty sorcerer."
"Legend has it that during the Han Dynasty, Emperor Wu missed his deceased consort Lady Li. Shao Weng crafted a shadow puppet of her, painted it with colors, and attached wooden rods to its limbs. At night, within a curtained enclosure lit by candles, the emperor was delighted, and thus Shao Weng, a master of the mysterious path, became the patron ancestor of shadow puppetry."
"All dramas originate from entertaining the divine, especially shadow puppet plays, which are mostly vow plays, repayment plays, rain-seeking plays, sacrificial plays, or exorcism plays, performed during festivals, temple fairs, or weddings and funerals. They come with many rules and taboos. If they invite something else, the trouble could be even greater."
"If something goes wrong, people will definitely die!"
After this explanation, both men understood.
Sha Lifei scratched his head, cursing, "Those sneaky bastards! No wonder when I brought it up, that old dough-face came right over. Probably because others wouldn't take the job."
Thick-skinned as he was, even if he'd let something slip, he didn't care. His eyes darted, and he grinned, "Daoist, since they're the ones inviting the deity, we just need to get the job done. Whatever happens afterward isn't our concern…"
"No way."
Wang Daoxuan shook his head firmly. "This poor Daoist can't cross that line. If lives are lost, regret will come too late."
Li Yan also spoke up, "Let's do as the Daoist says."
From their first meeting, he could tell what kind of man Wang Daoxuan was.
The Daoist was sincere at heart. Even if he wanted to earn money, he insisted on doing so honorably.
As a member of the mysterious path, his current destitution wasn't without reason.
*Knock, knock, knock!*
At that moment, a knock came from outside the courtyard.
The three looked up to see a white-haired, black-robed elder standing at the gate, tapping on the door. Beneath his oiled paper umbrella was a face full of sorrow.
"May I ask, is this Daoist Wang?"
"Master Zhou?"
Sha Lifei was first puzzled, then his face soured. "This 'Old White Face' has a quick mouth. Master Zhou, you must've had your eye on me the moment I stepped out, huh?"
"Following me all the way, and I didn't even notice. Impressive skills…"
"Old White Face" was Sha Lifei's acquaintance, the troupe's suona player.
Sha Lifei hadn't expected that just mentioning the job would bring the troupe master to their door before anything was settled.
What embarrassed him more was that, as a seasoned wanderer of the martial world, he hadn't even noticed he was being followed. Wasn't that a loss of face in front of Li Yan and Wang Daoxuan?
Wang Daoxuan waved to cut him off and addressed Master Zhou sincerely, "Esteemed sir, this poor Daoist knows what you intend, but your trade relies on true skill to roam the martial world. Borrowing the power of ghosts and gods will surely bring harm…"
"I understand."
Master Zhou sighed, his face growing more bitter. "Please, Daoist, let this old man finish."
"I am Zhou Kangnian, and my troupe is the Spring Breeze Troupe, a century-old name in Huayin. We've built some wealth and planned to make a name in Xianyang before heading to Chang'an."
"This trouble is my fault. My rebellious son, ignorant of the dangers of the martial world, was lured into gambling upon arriving in Xianyang, racking up a huge debt. Too ashamed to face anyone, he hanged himself in the middle of the night."
"I spoiled him, and a white-haired man burying a black-haired one is my just deserts. But the old and young in the troupe are innocent, and now the Iron Blade Society is pressuring us at our door. We can't leave until the debt is cleared."
"I know this is dangerous and am willing to bear the consequences alone. If something goes wrong, let it be my death alone, as long as it resolves the troupe's current crisis…"
Hearing this, Li Yan's eyes gleamed.
Zhou Pan, that old monkey, had many disciples, some good, some bad.
Among them were two former street thugs who, after learning true martial arts, gathered Xianyang's ruffians and local riffraff, forming two gangs: the Iron Blade Society and the White Ape Society.
Backed by the Divine Fist Society, their influence kept growing, making them the overlords of Xianyang's underworld, each controlling the east and west sides of the city, engaging in extortion and market domination.
Their methods were crooked, but the money came fast.
The Divine Fist Society's original mission included protecting the community, but with these two disciples constantly offering tribute, Zhou Pan, the old monkey, turned a blind eye.
When they provoked martial world peers, he'd sometimes step in to smooth things over.
As a result, these two gangs grew increasingly brazen.
The Spring Breeze Troupe, new to Xianyang, naturally caught their attention.
Seeing Wang Daoxuan still hesitating, Master Zhou dropped to his knees with a thud, tears streaming down. "Daoist, I beg you to help."
"I know a method to draw all the misfortune onto myself. As long as the troupe's people can escape this calamity, I'll die without regrets!"
Master Zhou had followed Sha Lifei undetected, so his skills were clearly not lacking. He had reached the level of hidden strength, and though his vitality had waned with age, he was still formidable.
Yet he was driven to such desperation.
"Master Zhou, you're a man of honor."
Wang Daoxuan sighed. "I understand your meaning. Circumstances force your hand, but you must think this through. If something goes wrong, it won't just be your soul scattering."
Master Zhou's face lit up, and he gritted his teeth. "Please, Daoist, lend a hand."
"No rush."
Wang Daoxuan didn't agree immediately, saying calmly, "Let's first visit your troupe. Master Zhou, wait outside. We'll pack and follow."
"Very well!"
Master Zhou, experienced in reading people, knew Wang Daoxuan was deliberately sending him out, but he was already immensely grateful for their willingness to help and dared not say more.
As soon as he left, Sha Lifei's face fell, and he whispered, "Oh, Daoist, ghosts and gods are a distant concern, but these villains are right in front of us."
"You didn't agree before—why now?"
Wang Daoxuan shook his head awkwardly. "This… this poor Daoist's heart softened."
Sha Lifei was about to keep persuading when Li Yan spoke up, "If we want to make a name for ourselves, how can we shy away from trouble? This job can be done!"
Sha Lifei understood at once that Li Yan likely saw the Iron Blade Society as an opening to deal with Zhou Pan, and he sighed inwardly.
One stubborn, one reckless—he was truly cursed with bad luck.
He thought about leaving, but recalling his lifetime of ups and downs, still saddled with debt, how could he go back to being a wheat reaper leader?
"Fine, let's do it!"
With that thought, he steeled himself.
"No rush."
Wang Daoxuan waved a hand, saying gravely, "I've heard that among the shadow puppet sects, there's an unorthodox method that uses human skin for puppets. When people are pushed to the edge, the line between Buddha and demon is but a thought."
"Little Brother Yan, keep an eye out. If they've already performed such an evil ritual, we turn and leave, reporting it to the authorities!"
"Alright."
With their decision made, the three packed their things and headed out.
Master Zhou, overjoyed, led the way…
…
Following Master Zhou, they wove through streets and alleys, eventually reaching the northwest corner of Xianyang City.
They were near the Horse King Temple.
The temple housed the Horse King, one of the mysterious path's great spiritual marshals, and was found in many places with thriving incense.
It was also the site for issuing horse permits and Xianyang's mule and horse market. After the rain, the ground was muddy, and the stench of livestock was overwhelming.
Naturally, Xianyang's wealthy couldn't stand the smell.
Thus, this area was mostly home to the poor.
The Spring Breeze Troupe's presence here spoke volumes about their plight.
Led by Master Zhou, they entered an old alley. The houses on both sides were dilapidated, with sewage flowing freely, and the ancient bluestone slabs were caked with mud.
Before long, a large courtyard appeared ahead.
It looked like it had once been a coaching inn, now fallen into ruin.
Outside, a dozen or so rough-looking men loitered, their clothes sloppily worn—some bare-chested, showing tattoos, others with flowers tucked into their caps.
Each carried a weapon, their speech coarse and filthy.
Li Yan stopped, his gaze tinged with amusement.
The leader of this group of thugs was a familiar face.
It was none other than Meng Haicheng, who had once suffered a loss at his hands!
*(End of Chapter)*