Chapter 91: This Venerable One’s Shizun Is a Pro

This man's elegant robes were white as snow against the backdrop

of the great hall. He stood in the hall with his hands folded neatly behind him,

the silk of his robes soft as airy clouds and his expansive sleeves brushing

the ground. His expression appeared solemn and dignified, but upon closer

inspection, his eyes were slightly lifted, and his lashes draped down—

beneath that veneer of politeness lay scorn and superiority in equal measure.

Li Wuxin had never dreamed that this was the Yuheng Elder. His face

instantly fell. "Chu, Chu—"

"Li-zhuangzhu," Chu Wanning said calmly, "long time no see."

"How could it be you?" Li Wuxin's face was as pale as dry wax. His

silver tongue that had been flapping away a moment ago tied itself into a knot

as he stuttered, "We haven't heard a word from you since you left Rufeng

Sect. Here we thought you went off to wander the world; yet who knew you

—you were actually down here in the muck, casting pearls before swine!"

Chu Wanning snorted, his eyes cool. "You think I'm a pearl? I'm

flattered."

Li Wuxin was too flabbergasted to reply.

"Now, enough small talk. Let's come to the point: I hear you think I've

murdered the five hundred civilians of Butterfly Town to practice dark

magic. This was not done by my hand, but seeing as Li-zhuangzhu has come

all this way, I assume there have already been a few misunderstandings. I'm

afraid I have more important affairs to attend to, so I won't be accompanying

you to Tianyin Pavilion. If you have any questions you'd like to ask, you are

welcome to do so now."

With that, Chu Wanning took his seat with a sweep of his sleeves, as

though even standing would be too much effort for him. Every elder had a

designated seat within the Loyalty Hall, and Chu Wanning's was situated to

the left of Xue Zhengyong's, lined with a fine bamboo mat and obscured by a

half-lowered bamboo screen. Compared to the Lucun Elder's seat beside it,

which overflowed with fresh blossoms, Chu Wanning's appeared incredibly

meager and simple.

In the years since he had left Rufeng Sect, Chu Wanning had never

made deliberate attempts to conceal his name—but it wouldn't be inaccurate

to say he'd kept a low profile. While the younger generation of Bitan Manor

had heard of him, they had no notion of how powerful he was. Li Wuxin was

a different story. He'd been around the block in the upper cultivation realm.

How could he not know of the infamous Yuheng Elder?

He clenched his fists tight within his sleeves as he stole several

glances at Chang-gongzi.

Had he not already accepted a lavish advance payment from the Chang

family, he could have steered clear of this disastrous situation. At the time,

he'd thought the Yuheng Elder of Sisheng Peak was just some small-time

cultivator of little repute. How was he to know that it was Chu Wanning, who

had been out of the public eye for so long? If he had, he would never have let

himself get roped into this mess, no matter how generous the compensation.

Now he was stuck, unable to advance or retreat. What should he do…?

Li Wuxin kept his expression carefully neutral, but inside he was

miserable.

It was then that one of his disciples decided to flaunt his ignorance.

Believing it was this Yuheng Elder who was the unreasonable one and his

master was at a loss for how to handle the man, the disciple spoke up,

thinking himself rather clever. "Elder Chu, you recently traveled to Butterfly

Town to perform an exorcism, did you not?"

Chu Wanning peered out from under his lashes and gave the young man

a look. "That is correct."

"Then were you also the one who sealed that ghost bride?"

"Are you speaking of Luo Xianxian?"

"I…" The young man's words died on his lips. He only knew that the

evil creature that visited disaster upon Butterfly Town was a ghost bride; he

didn't know much more than that. When Chu Wanning turned the question

back on him, he had no response. His face flushed. "In any case, it's that

ghost girl! Why do you have so many questions? She's young, about fifteen or

sixteen. How many newlyweds who suffered wrongful deaths could there be

in such a small town?"

Chu Wanning smiled coldly. "Butterfly Town practices a custom of

posthumous marriage. The town harbors at least fifty, if not a hundred, ghost

brides, so I really don't know to which you're referring."

"You—!"

Li Wuxin cut in. "How can you address the elder so disrespectfully!

How impudent. Hold your tongue!" After dealing his outspoken disciple a

sound scolding, Li Wuxin quickly changed tack. He turned to Chu Wanning,

his tone now pleasant and agreeable. "Please forgive my disciple, Chuzongshi. This is his first time leaving the mountain, so he is unacquainted

with the rules. The ghost bride of whom he spoke is indeed the girl Luo

Xianxian."

Chu Wanning furrowed his brow slightly. "Luo Xianxian's resentful

spirit went berserk?"

"Indeed," Li Wuxin sighed. "That ghost girl lost her mind. She didn't

stop at killing every member of the Chen family; she slaughtered the entire

town. By the time my disciples and I arrived to seal her, there was barely a

soul left alive in the entire settlement."

"How can that be…" Chu Wanning muttered.

"I had heard that the Yuheng Elder of Sisheng Peak was involved in

this affair. There's something fishy about this whole business, which is why

we came to speak to you. In addition, I obtained two items while at Butterfly

Town. Chu-zongshi, please examine them carefully and see if they've aught to

do with you."

As he spoke, Li Wuxin retrieved a bloodied yellow silk cloth from his

sleeve, intending to hand it to Chu Wanning. But unexpectedly, Xue Meng

stepped forward. He blocked Li Wuxin with an irritated hmph. "I'll take it!"

"Ah…"

"My shizun is a stickler for cleanliness. He won't touch anything

dirtied by the hands of outsiders!"

This was a bit of an exaggeration—Chu Wanning wasn't actually such

a stickler, he just preferred not to touch things handled by people he didn't

like. But it was true that Chu Wanning couldn't stand Li Wuxin. He said not a

word at Xue Meng's meddling, but merely lowered his lashes as he sipped

the hot tea Shi Mei brought him.

Powerless, Li Wuxin swallowed his indignation. He could only sneer

as he passed the yellow silk into Xue Meng's hands.

Under the flickering candlelight, all eyes were drawn to this scrap of

cloth. Chu Wanning shook it open. He took only a glance before his face fell.

"The Incantation of Deliverance…"

"That's right. Chu-zongshi, I looked into it and found that you were the

one who temporarily sealed the resentful spirit Luo Xianxian. Before you

left, you gave a copy of this Incantation of Deliverance to the only daughter

of the Chen family, and told her that the family must copy and recite it once a

day for ten years—is that correct?"

"It is."

"The Incantation of Deliverance on this silk is written in Chuzongshi's hand, is it not?"

A pause. "That is indeed the case."

"But Chu-zongshi—at the end of each passage of this Incantation of

Deliverance, there are written extra characters comprising a different spell."

Li Wuxin raised his voice. "I trust you know what this is? Sigil of the

Returning Billows, a reversal spell! Every time the Chen family copied the

Incantation of Deliverance, they would draw this reversal spell symbol,

thereby transforming this spell that was meant to put the dead to rest into a

spell to cause harm, eroding the seal on Luo Xianxian until she turned into a

savage ghost and massacred the town! The Chen family themselves were

completely ignorant of the ways of cultivation. Besides the Yuheng Elder,

who personally gave them this silk cloth, I cannot think of a second

individual who could have taught them to draw such a spell!"

"Watch your tone, old man!" Xue Meng was outraged. "If my shizun

wanted them dead, why use such a roundabout method?! What spell, what

reversal spell—can't handwriting be forged? You think my shizun drew these

characters? Well maybe I think it was a certain son of a bastard who added

them to frame another, and I'm looking right at him!"

Li Wuxin smiled mirthlessly. "Xue Meng-gongzi, weren't you ever

taught not to interrupt the conversations of your elders?"

Xue Zhengyong spoke up. "Li-zhuangzhu, isn't it a bit of a reach to

accuse Yuheng based only on this silk cloth? My son is right—handwriting

can be imitated. If someone wanted to frame Yuheng, they could simply copy

his spell a few times and learn to match his handwriting."

"Then we must ask," countered Li Wuxin, "does Chu-zongshi have

some arch-nemesis who would go to such lengths to harm him?"

Mo Ran, who had stood quietly to the side until now, suddenly barked

out a dry laugh.

Li Wuxin looked over at him. He recalled this young man's earlier

vulgar talk of 'mortar and pestle' and couldn't help but frown. "What are you

laughing at?"

"It's just you're all so busy dreaming up wild speculations, you've

overlooked one thing."

"What thing?" Xue Zhengyong asked curiously. "Ran-er, what're you

thinking?"

"I'm not all that well-read, but I do happen to know a bit about this

Sigil of the Returning Billows, and I also happen to know how to draw it."

Mo Ran laughed. "Here, isn't this it?" As he spoke, he gathered a smudge of

red spiritual power at the tip of his finger. He leaned lazily against the pillar,

and the spiritual power swooped and darted before him. Soon, an expertly

rendered Sigil of the Returning Billows shimmered in the air before him,

pretty as fireworks.

Xue Meng was shocked. "Why, you mutt, that's amazing! When did you

learn to do that?"

Mo Ran laughed. "It's all there in Shizun's books. I thought it looked

interesting, so I memorized it." He tapped the luminous red spell, and it rose

gradually until it hovered over the heads of all present in the hall. The

reversal mark glowed brilliantly, streaming bits of broken sparks. "There

now. Go on and compare the spell I drew with the one on the cloth. See if

they don't look exactly the same."

The disciples of Sisheng Peak loved a good spectacle. When they saw

Chu Wanning stoically toss that silk cloth onto the table, offering his tacit

consent, they all swarmed over without delay, crowding around the bit of

cloth to compare the two in detail. The visitors from Bitan Manor stood stiff

at first. But after a moment, between their own curiosity and the desire of

some to poke holes in Mo Ran's claim, every one of them clustered close as

well.

Both sects looked the cloth and the characters over for a good long

while, and in the end, came to the same conclusion: the characters Mo Ran

had drawn were indistinguishable from the spell on the silk cloth, as if they

had been written by the same hand.

Shaken, Li Wuxin's idiot disciple spoke up once again. He pointed at

Mo Ran. "Good going! So you confess! You're the one who committed the

murders!"

Mo Ran eyed him without a word.

"What's your name?" Chu Wanning asked evenly.

"Hm? You're asking me?" That dimwitted disciple was first taken

aback. Then he straightened his spine, head held high and chest puffed out as

he proudly proclaimed, "I am the thirteenth direct disciple of Wuxin, Zhen

Congming."

Mo Ran snorted. Zhen Congming—"very smart"?

Chu Wanning, on the other hand, barely reacted to Disciple Very Smart

—after all, he himself bore a name like Xia Sini, "scare you to death." He

said coolly, "Young ones ought to learn to keep their mouths shut when their

elders are speaking."

His mockery of Li Wuxin's comment toward Xue Meng earlier was

obvious to all, and when Li Wuxin heard, his face flushed the color of pig's

liver. He was horribly frustrated, but couldn't think of a comeback, all too

aware of the eyes on them. He said with a dissatisfied hmph, "Chu-zongshi's

disciples certainly are outstanding young men. How skillful they are, to be

able to draw this spell just as a zongshi does."

"It's not just me, Li-zhuangzhu," said Mo Ran. "If you knew how to

draw this spell, it'd look the same as mine and Shizun's."

Li Wuxin glared at Mo Ran. "What are you trying to say?!"

Mo Ran laughed. "The strokes of the Sigil of the Returning Billows

are highly complex; the level of skill, the heaviness of the stroke, no element

can be out of place. That's why it doesn't matter who drew it—it would

come out just the same. One's handwriting plays no part. If a drawing is even

slightly off, the spell won't work."

"Ridiculous!" The humiliation of being corrected by a junior before a

crowd was more than Li Wuxin could abide. All the hairs of his beard stood

on end with outrage. "What spell in this world could be so finicky? I don't

need to have practiced this spell to know that's utter nonsense. Don't go

making things up, you little brat!"

"He's not making it up," Chu Wanning said.

Li Wuxin had reached the limit of his patience. "Chu Wanning," he

exclaimed in anger, "you speak without proof! How would you know! How

can you know?! The flaws and weaknesses of a spell are largely known only

to its creator. Do you dare proclaim yourself the creator of the Sigil of the

Returning Billows?!"

Chu Wanning lifted his eyes and considered him stonily. He took

another sip of tea before leisurely replying, "Daren't I? Then I'll tell you

now."

Li Wuxin stared at him in confusion.

"I created the Sigil of the Returning Billows."

Li Wuxin stared at him in dawning comprehension.