Chapter 228: Three Eyes See All Under Heaven
The pleasure boat, following a tributary of Poyang Lake, left the vast expanse of water and entered a narrower channel.
They reached Mount Lu, a towering peak blocking their path.
Suddenly, the mountain seemed to part, a hidden passage opening before them, and the boat continued, entering a small, secluded lake.
Shi Hao and Xiang Gu disembarked with Yue Yaotai and followed her through a dense forest.
The trees parted, revealing a hidden valley, like a scene from a mythical paradise.
An elegant pavilion stood before them, surrounded by other buildings, their arrangement harmonious and aesthetically pleasing.
Shi Hao was led to the top floor of the main pavilion, where he observed the layout of the Moon Lotus Pavilion and browsed through their library of secret manuals.
Looking down from his vantage point, he saw the pavilion was filled with beautiful women, their movements graceful and orderly.
As expected of a sect that cultivates the Lunar Divinity path, he thought, Someone like Long Niu wouldn’t even be considered.
This was the Moon Lotus Pavilion’s main headquarters, with smaller branches elsewhere.
The disciples here, carefully selected and trained, were the sect’s elite.
Beneath the main pavilion was a hidden network of tunnels and chambers. Yue Yaotai, having some free time, gave him a tour.
The layout was complex and disorienting, a labyrinth from which it would be difficult to escape without a guide.
Shi Hao spent a day at the Moon Lotus Pavilion, familiarizing himself with its layout and its members.
Then, he, Yue Yaotai, Zhu Ping, Huan Tingting, and Xiang Gu boarded a boat and left, first crossing Poyang Lake, then transferring to a larger merchant vessel, heading down the Long River.
The Long River flowed northeast, its current strong and steady.
Yue Yaotai, Zhu Ping, and Huan Tingting had all changed their appearances and their attire, using disguises.
They weren’t using the Evil Shadow Disguise Technique. Although it allowed for quick transformations, it was also limiting, the constant manipulation of facial muscles uncomfortable and unnatural, making subtle expressions difficult. And having a group of people all wearing the same stiff, emotionless mask would be suspicious.
So they used more conventional methods: makeup, prosthetics, and hair dyes.
Shi Hao discovered that Huan Tingting was a skilled makeup artist.
With her artistry, Yue Yaotai, dressed in a pleated skirt, now resembled a kind and gentle matron from a wealthy family, her usual cold demeanor gone.
Shi Hao began to suspect that her aloofness was just an act, a deliberate contrast to her disguised persona.
As for Zhu Ping and Huan Tingting, they were disguised as maidservants, one in red, the other in black.
Although dressed as servants, their movements and their bearing still suggested they were martial artists… In these times, revealing their connection to the jianghu could be beneficial, preventing unnecessary trouble.
As they approached Yangzhou, they saw a large group of people being escorted by barbarian soldiers along the north bank.
Shi Hao, standing on the deck, asked, “Are those conscripted laborers for the Grand Canal project?”
Yue Yaotai nodded slightly, “Yes. These past few months, they’ve become desperate, conscripting people everywhere, ignoring the unrest it’s causing. Jiangnan is in chaos, and although the rebellions in the north have been suppressed for now, they’re still spreading. The barbarian court’s desperation suggests they have some… ulterior motive.”
From a demonic cultivator’s perspective, such drastic measures meant a significant potential profit.
The idea of “suffering now for future generations” was a convenient excuse. Who knew what the future held, when the present was filled with such hardship?
And the barbarian court wasn’t known for its altruism.
They reached Yangzhou, changed ships, and continued downriver, entering the Qiantang River.
After disembarking, they arrived at Haiyan County, where a large number of barbarian soldiers were stationed, checking the travel permits of everyone entering and leaving the city.
They were also stopped and questioned, despite Yue Yaotai’s forged documents… her disguise was that of a wealthy merchant’s wife, her business operating along the lower reaches of the Long River.
Even so, they were still subjected to a thorough interrogation.
“They’re looking for someone,” Yue Yaotai whispered.
Before entering an inn, Shi Hao looked back and saw, besides the soldiers, numerous martial artists moving through the streets.
Some, after being questioned, lifted their robes, showed something to the soldiers, and were then allowed to pass.
“Six Gates,” Shi Hao said, his voice low.
They entered the inn, and Shi Hao, leaving Yue Yaotai, Zhu Ping, Huan Tingting, and Xiang Gu there, asked the innkeeper for directions to Three Peaks Mountain.
He left Haiyan County and headed towards the mountain.
Three Peaks Mountain, true to its name, had three distinct peaks that, seen from afar, resembled a trident.
Following the path described by Hou Bomin, he climbed the mountain and found a small Daoist temple halfway up the slope.
The temple was small and dilapidated, its walls a weathered ochre, its age unclear.
The path was steep and winding, the temple hidden deep within the mountains, invisible from below, explaining the lack of visitors and the absence of incense burners.
It clearly wasn’t a thriving temple.
The gates, open, were carved with intricate patterns. Inside, the stone courtyard was covered in dust and fallen leaves. A bronze incense burner, with only a few sticks of incense remaining, stood before the main hall.
Inside, a statue of a deity with three eyes, its expression fierce and menacing, its left hand holding a wind-fire wheel, its right a steel mace, stood behind the altar. It was Wang Lingguan, the “Thunder God of the Three-Five Fire Train.”
Wang Lingguan was a Daoist protector deity, his third eye said to see all under heaven, his whip capable of awakening the world.
Shi Hao called out, “Is Daoist Zhong here?”
A voice came from the back hall, “Who’s asking?” An old Daoist priest emerged.
He wore a Daoist robe, a horsetail whisk in his hand, a crimson inner robe, and wide sleeves embroidered with golden dragons, reaching almost to the ground.
Shi Hao bowed, “Are you Daoist Zhong?”
The old Daoist said, “That’s right. What do you want?”
Shi Hao said, “Are you preparing for a ceremony, Master? If so, I can come back tomorrow.” He turned to leave.
The old Daoist said, “It’s no trouble. I’m not busy. Just tending to my garden. I wasn’t planning on leaving anyway. What is it?”
Shi Hao smiled, “Since you’re cultivating your inner peace, I won’t disturb you,” and continued towards the exit.
A gust of wind from behind, and he turned swiftly, his palm striking outwards.
A loud crash as their palms met, both of them staggering back. The old Daoist sneered, “How did you know I wasn’t Daoist Zhong?”
Shi Hao said calmly, “You’re wearing ceremonial robes, but you’re not attending a ceremony. If Daoist Zhong earned his living performing rituals, this temple wouldn’t be so deserted. And if he didn’t, why would he be dressed like that?
“You’re wearing ceremonial robes, yet you’re gardening. You’re clearly not a Daoist priest. You don’t even know the proper attire.
“Even if you have… eccentric tastes, and enjoy wearing these robes, why are you gardening in the back while the courtyard is covered in leaves? And your robe is so clean, despite all the dust here. It’s clearly a new robe, borrowed for the occasion.
“Even then, I wasn’t entirely certain. There are many eccentric people in this world. Perhaps you simply enjoy wearing ceremonial robes while neglecting your surroundings. So I tested you, and you failed.”
The old Daoist snorted, “You’re clever, but you’re not leaving this place.”
A rush of wind, and numerous figures emerged from the shadows, surrounding the temple.
Shi Hao sneered, “So it’s the barbarian court’s lapdogs.”
The old Daoist glared at him, “Who are you? And what do you want with that old fool Zhong?”
Shi Hao smiled, “What’s it to you?” He channeled his energy into his palm.
With a thud, the old Daoist was thrown back, crashing into the altar, coughing up blood… They had seemed evenly matched earlier, but Shi Hao had been holding back.
The old Daoist hadn’t expected that.
Martial artists surged forward from both sides of the hall.
Shi Hao, not wanting to be surrounded, leaped upwards, crashing through the roof.
As tiles and debris rained down, he jumped from rooftop to rooftop. Two more martial artists, wielding sabers, attacked him.
Shi Hao flickered, his palm striking one, sending him flying. The other, startled, jumped down from the roof.
Shi Hao landed in the courtyard, the martial artists from inside the hall now pursuing him.
Ignoring them, he ran towards the main gate. Two more figures, each wielding a goose-feather saber, emerged from either side, their blades aimed at his waist.
Shi Hao, however, anticipating their attack, grabbed their sabers.
The two martial artists, both eighth-rank, were no match for him.
They tried to pull their weapons back, but the blades were stuck fast.
With a clang, both sabers shattered.
Shi Hao grabbed their wrists, and with a sickening crack, broke their bones.
As the other martial artists approached, he leaped over the wall and fled down the mountain, quickly disappearing into the distance.
The two injured men, clutching their broken wrists, howled in pain.
“Who was that?” someone asked, “When did such a powerful martial artist appear in the Qiantang River region?”
The others exchanged glances. The old Daoist, supported by two men, emerged from the temple, his face contorted in pain, “Inform the Chief Constable! This kid must be connected to the Lin family…”
A messenger arrived, running from another path, “They’re coming! The Lin family has been spotted heading this way… What happened here?”
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