Chapter Fifty: The Dice Integration Finally Succeeds

The old monk spoke in a calm, kindly voice, but after what had happened earlier, even those who did not know him understood that he was someone they could never afford to provoke. The private room, which had only just relaxed, fell silent once more. Only the old monk continued:

“The one invited to deal with the ghosts was my disciple. He has been practicing the Way for more than ten years since leaving the mountain, and his cultivation ranks among the finest in the Mystical Arts. Yet yesterday morning, while I was performing my morning lessons, I discovered that his life lamp had gone out. I went to the rice merchant to ask what had happened, then visited Sunny Village to investigate. Who would have thought that not a single living soul remained in the entire village?

“The villagers all died in their sleep, without the slightest sign of struggle. Only my disciple died differently. His throat was crushed by sharp fangs, and his heart was pierced by vicious claws.”

“Zombies?”

The thought arose in many minds, and someone even blurted it out. The old monk nodded at the words, while the county magistrate seized the opportunity to take back the conversation.

“Once the county received the report, we immediately sent people to deal with it. However, neither the evil ghost nor the zombie responsible could be found. We had intended to warn the surrounding villages and towns to heighten their vigilance, but last night the county’s suppressive relic suddenly showed signs of disturbance. When we followed up on it this morning, we discovered that two people had died during the night. Their cause of death was likewise the exhaustion of their vital blood.

“We suspect that both the ghost and the zombie have already entered the county seat, which is why we have summoned everyone here for this discussion. As for Master Chen, he has gone after the evil ghost.”

The magistrate’s words were simple enough, but many of those present revealed strange looks.

He called it a discussion, but in truth, it was an act of distrust.

After all, among the martial cultivators and mystical cultivators present, apart from the monk and the priest beside the magistrate, fewer than ten had truly entered the Way. The rest might know a bit of sorcery or martial arts, but at most they could handle weak wild ghosts and walking corpses. Against an evil entity capable of killing a practitioner who had entered the Way, they would be utterly useless.

Thus, the most likely explanation was that the magistrate suspected the evil ghost and zombie had been raised by an unorthodox cultivator. That was why he had summoned every mystical practitioner, old and new, in the city, along with every martial artist capable of wielding the power of vital blood. He probably wanted to see whether anyone carried an aura of wickedness.

But judging by appearances, he had found no flaw. Otherwise, he would have smashed a cup as a signal, displaying the full extent of his strategic brilliance.

Yet seeing through something did not mean one had to say it aloud. Though none of them were especially pleased with the magistrate’s methods, no one lost their temper. They simply waited in silence for the magistrate’s long-winded nonsense to end.

Yes, nonsense.

When all was said and done, whether one was dealing with a zombie or an evil ghost, the methods were more or less fixed. Any so-called discussion would amount to little more than establishing defensive lines, increasing patrols, setting up alarms, and strengthening security. At most, those with the ability would prepare talismans and holy water, or purchase glutinous rice, black dog blood, cinnabar, and the like.

Feng Xue glanced over the shoulders of those around him and noticed that the magistrate could not see him clearly from where he sat. He promptly lowered his head and, just as he had done in class when reading novels, took out a book and began studying it.

The magistrate failed to notice him, but plenty of others did. Still, any mystical cultivator who saw Feng Xue’s dazzling array of treasures would understand that he was not someone easy to deal with.

After all, even a practitioner who had entered the Way would consider himself fortunate to possess one or two magical artifacts. Yet Feng Xue carried at least a dozen such gleaming relics.

A person like that either came from an immensely powerful sect that had left him a mountain of treasures, or had many senior mentors who doted on him so deeply that every one of them had gifted him an artifact before he left home. Failing that, he must have raised a whole army of death-sworn servants whose lives had been spent nurturing his artifacts.

Whichever the truth, he was a ruthless figure no one could afford to offend.

As for killing him and taking his treasures—quite apart from whether the karmic consequences were worth bearing, one would first have to make certain that, after his death, neither his earthly sect nor his ancestors in the underworld could ever find the killer.

Consequently, most of the mystical cultivators merely glanced at Feng Xue before turning away. Some martial cultivators noticed the book in his hands, marked with the emblem of the Hua Martial Academy, and lost interest. Only the master of the Hua Martial Academy, seated not far from Feng Xue, wore an especially complicated expression. It was difficult to tell whether he was curious about the young man’s true identity or worried that the magistrate might notice him and make things difficult.

…

After a string of empty formalities, the mystical and martial cultivators each returned home, while the magistrate remained in the private room.

Only after everyone had gone and he had confirmed that no one nearby was eavesdropping did he finally speak.

“Masters, did you discover anything?”

The priest hesitated. He seemed about to speak, but then remembered that this was not his homeland. He shook his head and closed his mouth.

The magistrate turned to the old monk.

“Master Yijing?”

Since he had been addressed directly, the old monk could only sigh and shake his head.

“There are indeed several people who keep spirit ghosts or wandering souls, but none bears an aura of malice or bloodshed. They should have nothing to do with the evil ghost or the zombie.”

“What about the man who entered the city yesterday?” the magistrate pressed.

Master Yijing thought for a moment, then shook his head again.

“That young master comes from an extraordinary background. I cannot discern his sect, but with his cultivation, even if he had an evil ghost and a zombie assisting him, they would still not be a match for Zhixin.”

“Then let us hope Master Chen has better luck.”

Hearing Master Yijing speak so confidently, the magistrate could only shake his head. The priest in clerical robes, however, finally could not restrain himself.

“In my view, the entire city should be drenched in holy water. If any evil presence is hiding here, it will certainly be exposed.”

“Absolutely not!” Master Yijing cut in at once. “The Church of Light’s holy water is far too fierce. Publicly, this county has spirit officers and ghost soldiers; privately, it has spirit ghosts and false gods. If we followed your suggestion, we might not even find the evil ghost before the whole city descended into chaos.”

The priest suppressed his indignation. In his heart, he thought that if this had been his own country, those ghosts would already have been cast into the infernal prison. How could they be allowed to steal miracles belonging to God in the mortal world?

But he also understood that, as an outsider, he could not provoke the wrath of everyone present. If the magistrate refused, he had no choice but to accept it.

What he did not know was that the magistrate’s refusal had nothing to do with the ghosts. The man simply could not afford the cost.

The Church of Light’s divine grace had to be petitioned, and anything that had to be petitioned naturally came at a price. If it were merely one house or a single street, the magistrate might grit his teeth and pay, or at worst solicit donations from the wealthy. But the entire city…

Even if he collected taxes eighty years into the future, he still could not raise that much money.

…

Leaving aside the magistrate’s troubles, Feng Xue finally returned home. Following the poses described in Body Tempering, he began attempting to loosen and exercise his muscles and bones.

The Mortuary Village Manual also contained methods for training the body. However, because Feng Xue’s refinement of vital energy already produced more than enough, and because these past several days of travel had been spent either on the road or practicing spells, he had never found the time. Now that he had decided to cultivate both magic and martial arts, he naturally had to begin training as well.

Moving stances required first mastering stationary stances, while stationary stances required abundant vital blood. Feng Xue therefore intended to begin with Body Tempering and Vitality Cultivation, just as the general principles instructed.

However…

“I think you look like a person!”

Liu Yunxi, already accustomed to it, landed steadily on the ground. Feng Xue’s command followed soon after.

“Go make a few proper dishes.”

“Huh?”

Liu Yunxi blinked, then glanced at the clock on the wall. She looked back at him in confusion.

“It’s only a little after three!”

“I told you to go, so go!”

Feng Xue rolled his eyes, then pulled a jade token from his pocket. The character engraved upon it meant “eat.” He smiled and said:

“If I’m going to cultivate both magic and martial arts, I naturally have to overtake everyone by taking the shortcut!”