In an instant, everyone felt as if they’d just been awakened.
The chaos in West Luo lately was clear for all to see.
The Mystic Sect had been run ragged trying to capture rampant yin creatures and track down the root cause behind it all.
Every cultivator, including those from Qinglian Monastery, had their attention diverted.
Even a little troublemaker from a neighboring city figured the Mystic Sect in West Luo was too busy to care about him.
Maybe, the answer was hidden in the question itself from the very start.
Zhong Ziqing shot up from their seat.
“I’ll get in touch with the higher-ups…”
“Hold on. This is just an idea for now,” Yin Cong was more thorough in his thinking.
“If we want to convince the higher-ups to change the investigation’s direction, we’ll need something more concrete…”
West Luo was a prosperous city.
If Longevity Island’s old stronghold was truly here, how had no one noticed?
The Mystic Sect had searched West Luo for so long without finding a trace.
Now, with the situation tense and manpower stretched thin, it was unrealistic to expect everyone to switch focus just based on a hunch.
The group fell into deep thought, analyzing everything that had happened in West Luo during this period.
Xiao Lingshu hadn’t been deeply involved in these matters, so he had no useful suggestions.
Knowing he tended to talk too much, and not wanting to disturb the others, he simply took out his phone and started scrolling.
Suddenly, he clicked his tongue.
“Tsk. Did those people really dig up something from the Ouyang family? Great, now they’ve been detained…”
Shi Pengpeng asked, “What did they dig up?”
“Didn’t some unfinished building owners contact me a few days ago? They wanted to dig up the Ouyang family’s ancestral grave…” Xiao Lingshu explained.
He hadn’t taken their commission, but he’d added them on WeChat and saw the aftermath in their Moments.
Digging up someone’s ancestral grave without approval was legally risky.
With the Mystic Sect from all over the country gathered in West Luo for a crackdown, legitimate feng shui masters were all keeping their heads down—no one dared take that job.
In the end, those owners found some reckless half-baked “master” and went digging together.
Of course, they didn’t find the Ouyang ancestral grave, but the “master” led them to another failed project previously developed by Ouyang Jue.
The owners were furious and demanded a refund from the “master.”
Sensing trouble, the “master” slipped away.
With no other choice, the owners left dejectedly.
But as one owner was leaving, he accidentally discovered a bronze statue buried in the abandoned lot.
That project was originally planned as a scenic area.
The owner guessed the bronze statue was meant as a decoration for the site.
After the project was abandoned, the statue was left unattended—probably because it was so heavy, it slowly sank into the ground.
By the time it was found, only half its head was above the surface.
The owner figured copper prices were high these days, and the statue was sizable.
Even sold as scrap, it’d fetch a good price.
He felt the Ouyang family still owed him an apartment, so taking something to offset the debt seemed fair.
He found some people and dug up the statue overnight.
However, after digging it up, he realized the statue was much more exquisite than he’d expected.
Sensing it might be valuable, he didn’t take it straight to a scrapyard.
Instead, he went to an antique market to see if he could sell it as an artwork.
The statue didn’t sell, but a shop owner called the police, claiming he was trafficking cultural relics.
The owner was taken to the station.
He explained the situation over and over, contacting the other owners to testify.
It took a lot of effort to clarify the whole story, but even so, he was still detained for a few days.
Now, the owner regretted his actions, fearing more trouble might follow.
He was seeking legal help in his WeChat Moments and even posted a photo of the statue, hoping someone knowledgeable could help appraise its value.
As Xiao Lingshu spoke, he opened the photo and glanced at it—suddenly, his expression changed.
“Huh? Isn’t this a Fang Xiangshi?”
Fang Xiangshi, a descendant of the ancient Mo Mu, was appointed in Zhou ritual as a subordinate of the Sima.
In old folk belief, Fang Xiangshi was revered as a deity who drove away plagues and evil spirits.
In the palace, he was depicted wearing a bear-hide mask, four golden eyes, dark robes, and red garments, wielding a halberd and shield to expel disease for the nation.
His ritual for exorcism was called Danuo.
During great funerals, Fang Xiangshi would appear at the burial, striking the four corners of the tomb with a halberd to drive out Wangliang—ghouls that fed on human livers and brains.
In later generations, Fang Xiangshi became a common image for tomb guardians.
Ancient people believed the netherworld teemed with demons and ghosts that could harm the spirits of the dead.
Thus, tombs often included divine beasts to protect the souls within.
Fang Xiangshi was the most common of these tomb guardians.
In the photo posted by the owner, the bronze statue had a human body and beast-like feet, bear-ish but not quite a bear, bulging eyes and gaping mouth, naked and crouched as if chasing after something.
It was a statue of Fang Xiangshi driving away evil spirits.
“Did Ouyang Jue get duped by the designer?” Xiao Lingshu joked.
“Why put a tomb guardian in a scenic area? That’s such bad luck—no wonder the project failed!”
“No,” Yan Jing’s eyes narrowed.
“Ouyang Jue was well-versed in dark arts and even built a grand mausoleum in the south. How could he not tell a tomb guardian from a regular artwork…”
Shi Pengpeng suddenly understood.
“That bronze statue didn’t sink into the ground—it was coming out from underground!”
Xiao Lingshu was still puzzled and asked, “What do you mean…?”
Shi Pengpeng shot to her feet and asked, “Where is this scenic area? Let’s go right now!”
The group grabbed their ritual implements and called the other Daoists searching for clues at Yuan Yi Temple.
They hurriedly drove to the outskirts.
On the way, Zhong Ziqing contacted the SWAT team and other Mystic Sect members to explain the situation.
At the same time, Yan Jing quickly pulled up the information on the scenic area.
According to public records, the project was approved by the previous two mayors and had been abandoned for almost a decade.
Back then, the real estate market was already declining, yet Ouyang Jue proposed investing in a large Qin-Han style scenic area in West Luo.
After some maneuvering, the Ouyang family acquired a vast plot on the eastern outskirts, right on the city border, including a mountain.
Construction started in a frenzy, leveling mountains and laying foundations.
Rumor had it they even planned to build a massive Bingma Yong like the one in Changan.
But the project didn’t last long before the mayor was arrested for corruption.
The company in charge soon declared bankruptcy, claiming a broken capital chain.
Many suppliers were never paid, and the workers’ wages were also withheld, leading to long battles for compensation.
The Ouyang family, as the main investor, had already hedged their risks through layers of subcontracting and suffered little loss.
The scenic area was left abandoned.
The place was remote—over two hours’ drive from the city—so it was rarely visited and gradually forgotten.
Overgrown with weeds.
If not for those determined owners looking for the Ouyang ancestral grave, this place would never have been found.
After a two-hour drive, the car left the main road and entered a mountain path.
In the distance, the bright moon hung in the sky, the mountain’s silhouette undulating beneath it like a giant beast lurking in the night.
At the end of the mountain road stood a grand cement archway—the planned entrance to the scenic area.
After more than a decade, the archway was dilapidated and crumbling.
Its ornate carvings were weathered and flaking, cobwebs and dust everywhere, weeds on either side.
Passing through the archway, they were met with desolation.
The mountain had been flattened, most of the foundations laid, with hardened cement and rusted rebar everywhere, heaps of rubble, and a ten-meter-wide river blocking the way.
They couldn’t drive any further.
They parked by the river, got out and took out their ritual implements to begin divination.
Shi Pengpeng lit a tracking incense.
The smoke curled up, then vanished instantly.
Yan Jing noticed her frown and reached out to gently pat her head and asked, “Find anything?”
“No.” Shi Pengpeng shook her head slowly.
“The aura here is very clean.”
Soon, everyone else reached the same conclusion, all looking puzzled.
“Huh, there doesn’t seem to be anything here.”
“My implement isn’t sensing anything either.”
“Did we get the wrong place? Doesn’t look like somewhere people could hide.”
Despite the chaos, the mountain was surrounded by water, the aura bright and clear.
There weren’t even any minor spirits, let alone remnants of Longevity Island.
Zhong Ziqing asked in confusion, “Was our guess wrong?”
“Not entirely,” said a Daoist skilled in geomancy.
“This place has a true dragon’s embrace and is an excellent burial site.”
In geomancy, “dragon” refers to the flow of vital energy in the mountains, “true dragon” means genuine vitality. “Sand’s embrace” means the burial site is backed and flanked by overlapping hills.
Water encircling the site makes it even luckier.
Such a place is for burial, not a scenic area.
So when Shi Pengpeng saw the Fang Xiangshi statue, her guess that this was a burial ground wasn’t wrong.
It was just that Ouyang Jue and the Longevity Island remnants didn’t seem to be hiding here.
“So what now? Did we come for nothing?” Xiao Lingshu looked around, unwilling to give up.
“Should we check across the river?”
He made to wade in.
“Hey, don’t mess around,” Yin Cong quickly pulled him back.
“That river’s pretty wide—don’t drown.”
“Come on, it’s so shallow, barely up to my knees,” Xiao Lingshu replied.
The others glanced over—the river wasn’t deep, just as he said.
The water was crystal clear.
Even in the faint moonlight, they could see straight to the bottom.
“This water is amazingly clear!” the geomancy Daoist couldn’t help but marvel.
As a feng shui master, he’d traveled the country, seen countless famous mountains and rivers, but he’d never seen water so pure.
“Even Qinglian Monastery’s mountain springs aren’t this clean.”
Zhong Ziqing nodded.
“Qinglian Monastery doesn’t compare…”
“Wait, something’s wrong!” Shi Pengpeng suddenly realized.
“West Luo’s water source comes from Chuirong Mountain. This water and Qinglian Monastery’s water should share the same source. Qinglian Monastery is higher up, closer to the headwaters—how could it be less pure than here?”
The others froze, immediately sensing something off.
The feng shui master crouched down, scooping up a handful for a closer look.
“Clear, too clear…”
The water was as transparent as glass, nearly invisible except for the moonlight’s reflection.
There was nothing on the riverbed but sand and stones—no aquatic plants, moss, or even plankton, let alone fish or shrimp.
Not even a speck of dust or grass.
But it was definitely water, and there was nothing strange about its aura.
“Damn, this water is unreal,” Xiao Lingshu muttered, finishing a quick hand seal.
“There isn’t even any yin energy!”
“There’s no such thing as water without yin energy,” Yan Jing said coldly.
He’d been seeing ghosts since childhood and avoided water—water was yin, the easiest place for spirits to hide.
All water had yin energy, especially in the mountains.
Suddenly, he remembered.
“Doesn’t the Imperial Preceptor have a Wang Xiang Eye Bead?”
Wangxiang, or water spirit, could purify all worldly filth.
If the Imperial Preceptor had the Wang Xiang Eye Bead, did he also have a Wangxiang?
“Step back,” Shi Pengpeng called out, forming a seal with her fingers.
A yellow Lingfu shot into the river.
“Lingfu command, reveal all evil!”
The yellow talisman ignited underwater, blooming like a red lotus.
Golden-red flames flowed through the water like molten lava.
Wherever they passed, the river boiled, bubbling furiously.
“Eeeaaah—!” A shrill wail burst from the depths.
Everyone shuddered, instinctively stepping back and raising their implements.
At the same time, a thick fog rose from the river.
“Everyone, be careful!” Shi Pengpeng called, skillfully grabbing Yan Jing’s hand.
“Brother, stay close to me.”