Chapter 129: Those Who Provoke Me! Shall Die!

"Don't follow me! Stay away!" he shouted back as he ran. "I'll find what I'm looking for and then meet up with you!"

Thus, the group of four became a group of three—no, there was still a small child sleeping. It would be more accurate to say he was not so much asleep as he was deeply poisoned. Ling Yi’s small face had turned a ghastly, bruised blue-purple, like a pig meant for slaughter in the dead of winter, frozen until its flesh took on that sickly hue. His face was unnaturally colored, and the sweat on his palms had congealed into a thin layer of frost.

"Senior Brother, is Little Junior Brother going to die? He hasn't been with Master for more than a few days. First Master met with disaster, and now this. I heard that when Master found him, he was being tortured by that pack of man-eating children."

"He should be fine." Liang Si couldn't help but glance at him a few more times before pulling a quilt from his storage bag and wrapping the boy tightly within it.

"Master..." the delirious boy murmured. "You didn't die, did you? Tell me you didn't..."

Liang Si sighed, gently patting the boy's back, soothing him with tireless patience. "No, no, you're still alive."

Once the boy quieted down, Wang Xi asked, "What exactly is Senior Brother Yang doing?"

The exit was lined with trees, with only a single, straight path leading toward the pavilion in the middle of the lake. Yet Yang Wennan was not taking that path; he was crashing wildly through the woods, only occasionally appearing on the path. His back was becoming increasingly hunched, and he was already carrying several boxes plastered with talismans. The more Wang Xi watched, the stranger she felt. "Senior Brother, the first box held bone fragments, but the rest..." She seemed to realize something. "The rest... they couldn't possibly be what I think they are, could they?"

"I expect they are."

She fell into a long silence, her face growing even more haggard. "But why? Why would the forbidden grounds of the Qianyan Clan do such a thing?"

"How would I know?" Liang Si sighed. He looked back toward the exit, and though he couldn't be sure if it was just his imagination, he felt a gaze fixed upon him from that direction. "You should huddle with Xiao Yi and get some sleep."

"I..." Wang Xi wanted to say she couldn't sleep, but seeing the firm, brooking-no-argument look in Liang Si's eyes, she resigned herself to crawling into the quilt. "Senior Brother, Little Junior Brother is so cold!"

"Don't speak. Just wait."

"Why?" Though she was bewildered, she obeyed. These two senior brothers—no, everyone except herself—had become increasingly strange.

"There," Liang Si said.

A barrier had been set up; if anyone were truly watching, they would only see him. The gaze had swept over him intermittently, carrying a deep chill as if searching for something, but it finally dissipated. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. It hadn't been looking at him; it had been looking at Ling Yi. Ling Yi had touched one of those boxes, and Yang Wennan was currently digging them up. Whoever—or whatever—that was, it was watching to see who had taken the boxes. What exactly had Yang Wennan discovered?

"Come here!" The voice echoed from afar, and with it came that faint, lingering gaze once more. How could he warn him? Before Liang Si could come up with a plan, the owner of that gaze moved. Like a sudden, violent gale, it swept in from behind. He reached for his sword, but the wind had already passed; as if in mockery, his blade shattered into pieces.

The gale surged forward. Wang Xi was terrified by the commotion and wrapped Ling Yi tighter in the quilt. "Eldest Senior Brother, could something have happened to Senior Brother Yang? Go! We must go! Let's go see!"

"Right."

Many people believed that a sword was a sword cultivator's second life, but like Wen Jingge, he knew that no matter how fine a blade was, if it couldn't be used, it was just waste. He felt no heartache for the sword; he simply drew two more from his storage bag and followed Wang Xi.

On the ground lay a dozen boxes, all sealed with Thousand-Autumn Locks. Judging by the patterns and the degree of decay, it was clear they had been buried at different times.

"The Hundred-Ghost Banquet," Yang Wennan gasped for air, as if suffering from asthma. "I thought... *cough, cough*... I thought the Hundred-Ghost Banquet was created by the Northern Demon Shadows. At the time, I even thought... *cough, cough*... how cruel it was."

Yang Wennan looked at the quilt Wang Xi was carrying, which held Ling Yi. "I never imagined... it was me. Eldest Senior Brother, tell me, is this not the irony of fate? Master died under the weight of destiny, and I... *hehehe*... I don't even know what kind of creature I am anymore."

"Senior Brother Yang, are you alright? What kind of nonsense are you talking about?" Wang Xi looked at him, uncomprehending. This Senior Brother Yang seemed like a completely different person.

"Destiny... can it really not be escaped?"

Yang Wennan had not expected an answer from Liang Si, but to his surprise, he replied, "It can be escaped."

Liang Si looked at the thunderclouds gathering in the sky. Sure enough, by speaking this secret aloud, he had made himself an enemy of the Heavenly Dao. However, this also confirmed one thing: even if this place were an illusion, it was a tangible, existing reality.

"But whatever fate holds is no longer my concern," Liang Si said with a self-deprecating laugh. "I wanted to participate, too. Once, I even envied you all."

"How do we change it?" Yang Wennan pointed to the ground. There lay a skeleton he had pieced together. "Thirteen boxes, thirteen bodies. Do you know why it's thirteen? Because the ancient Soul Clan was once called the Thirteen Moon Clan. The Hundred-Ghost Banquet originated from the Soul Clan, although... back then, I didn't know I carried the mark of the Soul Clan. These thirteen people are not strangers. They are... my former selves."

He looked toward the pavilion in the center of the lake. Under the flashes of lightning, several black shadows could be vaguely seen gathered there. "They are waiting for me. I am the focal point of the thirteen-part formation."

He took a deep breath, as if having made a final decision. "Master is gone, and I must go too. You... keep moving forward. You will find a way out."

Yang Wennan began to walk toward the pavilion. The thirteen vengeful spirits inside were cheering and leaping, as if welcoming his arrival.

"Senior Brother." Ling Yi poked his small hand out from the quilt. He squinted his eyes. "Do... do you feel like I'm familiar? I... I just remembered something in my dream, but now that I'm awake, I've... I've forgotten it again."

Yang Wennan’s footsteps faltered. He looked at the child. "Soul Clan... enemy..." Many years ago, during that blizzard, it seemed the Soul Clan was fighting something—yes, people with horns on their heads. Who were they now? He didn't know. "White Deer? Leave. Go back the way you came; it's safe."

"Senior Brother Yang!" Wang Xi called out to stop him once more. "I brought you here to reflect on the past, not to help you commit atrocities or watch you walk into a death trap for my sake! That is something I cannot do. Besides, it isn't time yet, is it? I, Wang Xi, do not need your pity!"

Before anyone knew when it began, she had already raised her bow. A rain of arrows flew, one after another. "You were the one who taught me how to use arrows tipped with True Fire. Today, I will use them to teach you the rules of my Qianyan Clan: Those who provoke me... die!"