Wanshan Temple
The Pagoda Forest was the burial ground of generations of eminent monks. Gloomy tombstones stood throughout the silent courtyard like a forest from which no one could ever escape.
As Tang Li recalled Shen Mo’s furious, teeth gritted expression from earlier, she felt immensely satisfied.
That scumbag was the sort who wanted everything at once, a snob through and through. He did not love the original host and wanted to be with the female lead, yet he feared being condemned behind his back as an ungrateful man who abandoned the wife who had shared hardship with him.
Shen Mo had always been arrogant, convinced everyone loved him desperately and that everything revolved around him. In his mind, only he had the right to cast others aside.
But Tang Li had done the opposite, striking first and shattering the pride he treasured most. Even if he had always treated the original host as no more than a tool, for a fleeting moment he had felt guilty.
Yet that guilt was not regret over how poorly he had treated her in the past, but regret that through one careless mistake she had slipped beyond his control.
Tang Li sat on the stone steps at the entrance of the Pagoda Forest, plotting how she might provoke that trash male lead even more the next time they met.
“Tang Li!”
A familiar shout rang out in the distance. Shen Mo had chased after her.
She had not yet completed her task of finding Master Miaoshan today, and she had no interest in wasting time arguing nonsense with that man.
So she quickly gathered her skirt and slipped into the Pagoda Forest to hide for a while.
Inside, the trees were tangled and overgrown, the place so deathly still it seemed not even a living creature remained.
“Stop hiding, I can see you, Tang Li!”
The voice drew closer and closer, as if he would catch up at any moment.
Tang Li quickened her pace. In her panic she turned several corners without knowing where she was going, and when she finally stopped, she realized she was lost.
Everywhere around her were identical structures, surrounded by weatherworn, crumbling pagodas. She turned in circles trying to make sense of the terrain, only to realize she seemed to have wandered into a forbidden area.
Crack!
She froze. Looking down, she realized she had stepped on something.
A trap mechanism.
Not good. The next moment the ground vanished beneath her feet.
She plunged into darkness.
The delayed sensation of weightlessness hit, then Tang Li crashed hard onto the ground with a cry of pain.
Pitch blackness surrounded her, she could not see her own hand before her face.
“System.”
The System understood at once. In the next instant, a lit firestarter appeared in Tang Li’s palm.
“Host, you are now in an underground cave beneath Wanshan Temple. Be careful.”
“Mm.” Tang Li nodded.
By the weak firelight, she saw she had fallen into a hidden underground passage triggered by the trap.
There were clear marks of human excavation along the stone walls. Feeling her way along the rock, she moved slowly down the passage.
It was a long tunnel. After walking what felt like the time it took an incense stick to burn, the path suddenly opened up.
A sinister altar stood ahead.
Yellow talismans were plastered everywhere. Beneath them burned many incense burners, thick smoke curling upward, stinging her head.
Tang Li pulled out a handkerchief and covered her nose and mouth. Pushing through layers of hanging talismans, she finally saw what lay at the center.
Someone was kneeling before the altar.
Against the backlight, she saw blood red cassock robes and a necklace of skull prayer beads.
It was Master Miaoshan, the man she had been searching for.
Tang Li did not lower her guard. She removed the long hairpin from her hair and hid it behind her back.
Step by cautious step, she approached the monk who sat as motionless as a statue.
“Miaoshan…”
She called him several times from behind, but he gave no response.
A strange tension hung in the air.
Unease stirred within her. She tested him with the tip of her hairpin.
“Miaoshan…”
The rigid monk collapsed instantly.
Only then did Tang Li see his full appearance.
He was dead.
Blood seeped from all seven orifices. A wound cut across his neck so deep bone could be seen, soaking the robes in blood. It was a horrific death, yet the corners of his mouth were curled upward in a bizarre smile.
Purple Mist Immortal.
The original novel had once mentioned that the remnants of the Virtuous Prince excelled at poisoning. Those who unknowingly consumed Purple Mist Immortal would experience bliss beyond mortal comprehension, as if ascending to immortality, only to have their organs rupture while dying with a smile.
But was Master Miaoshan not one of the Virtuous Prince’s assassins?
Why had he died beneath his own temple?
If Purple Mist Immortal killed him, why was there a blade wound at his neck?
Everything was too strange.
Tang Li had not yet sorted through the chaos in her thoughts when footsteps echoed from a nearby tunnel.
Someone was coming.
If she were discovered here, there would be no explaining it.
There was no other exit from the underground cave. She looked around in panic, then hurried to hide behind a waist high incense cauldron.
Through the carved openings in the bronze, she peered out.
A group emerged from the darkness.
At their head was… a monster.
She could only call it that because its body was enormous, nearly two meters tall, with a hideous face. It wore a straw cloak and carried a sickle like death itself.
Then a purple figure stepped forward.
Tang Li recognized her.
The mad proprietress from the Unbeaten Gambling House.
“Master, please partake.”
The gambling house owner bent low and ushered the creature onto the altar.
The monster moved without haste, raised the sickle, and with one swing sent Miaoshan’s head rolling. Blood twisted across the altar.
It spoke, voice rasping and horrible, like an old man whose throat had been burned away.
“Miaoshan was incompetent. He let the emperor’s dogs track the scent here. He deserved to die.”
“Long live the Master! Your subordinates swear loyalty unto death to the remnants of the Virtuous Prince!”
The gathered followers knelt with the proprietress and worshipped the monster, their declarations echoing through the cave.
“How is the plan going?”
“Master, rest assured. Wen Shuyu will not escape this time. He will never suspect Miaoshan was only bait to lure him in.
Once he follows the clues to Wanshan Temple and enters the chamber soaked in lamp oil beforehand, one fire will burn him clean away.
Once the emperor loses his watchdog, crushing him will be as easy as killing an ant.”
The remnants of the Virtuous Prince were not targeting the emperor.
Their target was Wen Shuyu.
Tang Li’s heart sank.
She had to get out and warn him.
Seeing the two atop the altar still speaking in low voices, she avoided the black clad followers below, lifted her skirt, and while they were distracted, slipped quietly into the only tunnel behind them.
Once she had put distance between them, she began running blindly through the dark, stumbling forward. Sharp rocks scraped her knees and elbows bloody, but she did not stop.
Faster.
Faster.
After running what felt like forever, she finally saw light pouring down from an exit.
Relief washed over her.
If she could get out, she could warn Wen Shuyu of the assassination.
Her hand had just grasped the stone ladder leading upward when pain exploded at the back of her head.
She turned and saw a black clothed cultist holding a club.
Then darkness swallowed everything.
She collapsed unconscious.
“Lord Wen, this way please…”
A young monk led two men through several turns into a secret chamber in Wanshan Temple.
“Master Miaoshan is preaching for honored guests in the front hall and will arrive shortly.”
After setting down tea and pastries, the monk bowed respectfully and withdrew.
Wen Shuyu wore plain cloth robes and a fanged ghost mask, yet his noble bearing could not be concealed. Standing inside the chamber, he narrowed his eyes as he surveyed the surroundings, radiating a presence that warned strangers away.
He could tell the monk had deliberately brought them to a reception hall atop the temple’s rear mountain.
Few people came here.
Beyond the rear window was a sheer cliff.
Perfect for an ambush.
The room was elegant and immaculate, infused with a heavy Buddhist atmosphere.
But the front windows were nailed shut, the rear overlooked an abyss.
Less room than a prison trap.
“Master, why risk yourself? I alone could have come to investigate.”
Pei Ying lounged crookedly in a chair, chattering without pause.
“And what a coincidence, your enemy came to Wanshan Temple today too. I heard she fought another woman in the side hall over winning her husband’s favor, honestly…”
The man before him picked up a pastry and tossed it into Pei Ying’s mouth, silencing him.
Yesterday, a spy had delivered new intelligence. Following clues about the Virtuous Prince’s remnants, Wen Shuyu had traced them to the Unbeaten Gambling House.
Wearing the ghost mask there allowed him to move freely and investigate unnoticed, but he had not expected to meet her.
She had been like a little butterfly caught in a spiderweb, blinking damp innocent eyes up at him.
Pitiful, and adorable.
From that moment, everything had begun slipping out of control.
He had stepped before the proprietress for her, protected her, even invented a false identity for her.
Then there was that kiss he had anticipated but never received.
By the time he realized something was wrong, it was already too late.
He had failed to catch that sly little butterfly.
She should not have appeared at the gambling house.
And yet today she had come to Wanshan Temple.
It could not all be a coincidence.
Was it for Shen Mo?
No!
Though all signs pointed that way, he refused to admit he might be making excuses to avoid the truth.
He simply had a feeling.
Tang Li had followed the assassin’s trail in a way eerily similar to his own.
She had come for him.
“Who’s there?”
A shadow flashed past the door.
Wen Shuyu barked sharply.
“I’ll chase them!”
Pei Ying instantly sprang upright, gripping the flexible sword at his waist and rushing out.
Wen Shuyu turned.
Behind a screen stood six Bodhisattva statues, apparently newly molded from yellow clay, the mud not yet dry.
Click!
The chamber door slammed shut.
He heard the lock slide from outside.
Luring the tiger from the mountain.
They had drawn away his hidden guard with a suspicious figure, then trapped him inside.
Miaoshan had been targeting him all along.
Wen Shuyu’s gaze darkened.
Then he heard a faint sound in the room.
Like… some thick liquid flowing.
Drip!
Drip!
His steps halted.
At his feet pooled black liquid seeping from beneath the Bodhisattva statues.
Without hesitation he crouched, dipped a finger into it, and examined it closely.
A sharp, choking odor rose from it.
Lamp oil. His expression changed.
Not good. Wen Shuyu shot to his feet.
At that very instant the candle stood before the screen snapped in two, the candle toppling to the ground.
In a flash, flames roared through the room.
So they were determined to burn him alive.