Chapter Fourteen: The Paper Servants Lift the Sedan Chair

“In a moment, you can go to the Hall of Enforcement to receive your assignment and be on your way,” Li Du said.

“Thank you, Master,” Lu Qian replied.

Lu Qian arrived at the Hall of Enforcement.

The place was in utter chaos, a gathering of all manner of strange creatures. Blue-faced zombies hopped about, nightmarish specters and yakshas bared their fangs, and birds possessed by Daoists soared overhead. Some Daoists even brazenly let their ghostly spirits drift outside their bodies, floating through the air.

At the entrance, two stone lions stood three yards tall, glaring fiercely with bulging eyes—imposing and majestic. For reasons unknown, Lu Qian fancied that one of the lions blinked at him.

He entered the Hall of Merit, gazing at the signboard inside.

It was a slab of white marble, three yards wide, its surface shimmering as characters appeared one after another.

[Collect a century-old dried corpse]
Note: Gender irrelevant; limbs must be intact.
Reward: One spell for the Qi Refining stage, or thirty Dao Merit points.

[Purchase one coffin fungus]...

[Capture a member of the Vertical-Eyed Clan]...

The board was filled with all kinds of assignments, and Daoists or Daoist apprentices, crowned and robed, would occasionally step forth to claim one.

Lu Qian searched for quite a while before finally spotting the task issued by Li Du.

[Collect ten stalks of Fish Grass]
Note: Roots must be intact.
Reward: Two Dao Merit points.

It seemed Li Du was truly in good spirits, granting Dao Merit as a reward.

Dao Merit, as its name implied, signified one’s contribution to the Daoist order.

There were two ways to obtain techniques in the temple: one, to be recognized by a master and accepted as a personal disciple; two, to exchange Dao Merit for techniques in the Main Lecture Hall.

Each year, the attrition rate among Daoist apprentices was high. Some reached the end of their term but had not advanced in cultivation; others cultivated sufficiently, but lacked Dao Merit.

This was precisely why Lu Qian ventured out—to gain Dao Merit.

There were several ways to earn it. Ten coins could be exchanged for one Dao Merit point, or one could collect rare treasures and receive Dao Merit according to their value. Alternatively, some tasks awarded Dao Merit directly.

The Qi Refining Breathing Technique required about twenty Dao Merit points.

In other words, Lu Qian needed to acquire twenty Dao Merit within a few months.

Lu Qian stepped outside.

He passed through dense woods where sunlight never reached.

The rear mountain was not a mere hill but an entire range. Though it belonged to the Temple of Profound Mysteries, such a vast expanse could never be fully explored.

The area was eerily gloomy; though the sun was high, it felt as dark as dusk.

A faint mist drifted among the mountains, and the indistinct silhouettes of trees resembled monstrous spirits.

Lu Qian drew two sheets of white paper.

They were paper men.

Two paper figures connected by strips, between them a paper-backed chair.

“Commanded!”

The paper men ignited without flame.

Two terrifying figures appeared beside him, eight feet tall, faces white with rosy cheeks, wearing melon-shaped hats inlaid with jade, their expressions hovering between a smile and a sneer.

They knelt half on the ground, shoulders bearing two bamboo poles with a bamboo chair atop—a bamboo sedan.

Once Folding Paper Arts were mastered, merely cutting out the shapes sufficed.

Lu Qian seated himself in the bamboo sedan. The paper men rose and moved forward noiselessly.

A shroud of black mist surrounded them.

The two eerie paper men hopped along, bearing the sedan, in which the Daoist in blue robes sat with eyes half-closed.

The sedan moved swiftly but made no sound, slicing silently through the shadows.

The scene resembled the procession of an Underworld Lord—chilling and uncanny.

Lu Qian was not resting his eyes; he was performing the mystical arts to sense the aura and identify herbs.

Fish Grass grew in shaded, damp places. Mature stalks emitted a pungent, fishy odor.

Meanwhile, three figures appeared in the woods.

The leader was Xie Te; the other two were familiar faces—Ma Er and Zhao Bao, who had once shared a room with Lu Qian.

Those two had been clueless at first, but after grasping the rules, had joined the ranks of those who currying favor.

“We’re out here on Young Master Li’s orders to gather herbs. Let’s search thoroughly—if we succeed, there’ll be no shortage of rewards,” Xie Te told his companions.

As the son of Li Lin, the Night Patrol Officer, his resources far surpassed those of ordinary apprentices. In less than a year, he had reached the threshold of Qi Refining.

This expedition was to find a critical herb for the breakthrough.

“This herb is called Fish Grass, infused with the essence of heaven and earth, and has a faint fishy scent. Keep your eyes peeled,” he instructed as he surveyed their surroundings.

He had been riding high lately, his cultivation solid thanks to the scraps from Li Lin’s hand, and had mastered several techniques.

Their path matched exactly the direction Lu Qian had just taken.

“By the way, Xie, I ran into Lu Qian on the road today,” Zhao Bao suddenly said.

“Lu Qian?” Xie Te’s brows arched. “That kid’s still alive?”

“Yeah, looked pretty well, seemed to have taken on an assignment.”

“Hah! Is he resigning himself and making a desperate gamble?” Xie Te laughed scornfully.

He remembered Lu Qian’s cold gaze vividly.

He should have taught him a lesson then, put him in his place.

“Forget him. Maybe we’ll stumble upon his corpse soon enough,” Xie Te said with a grin.

Some apprentices, knowing they had little hope to advance, resorted to reckless ventures in hopes of a miracle.

Yet such paths led almost invariably to doom.

The Temple of Profound Mysteries had stood for two centuries, and never had anyone reversed their fate by such means.

Meanwhile, Lu Qian’s ears twitched—he caught a faint rustling.

He focused his vision, peering into the distance.

In the nearby undergrowth, a head poked out.

It was fist-sized and triangular, scraps of rotten flesh clinging to the skull, with a sharp, perforated horn protruding from the forehead.

Green ghostfire burned in the eye sockets.

Four claws glinted with vivid blue light—clearly venomous.

The creature’s horn emitted a low, whistling sound.

“Thunderhorse!” Lu Qian thought as he regarded the monster.

Despite its name, it was actually a lizard, named for the thunder-like sound of its horn.

Born in places of extreme yin, it was a ghostly beast with only bones and a taste for corpses and filth.

This one still had much flesh—likely newly spawned.

A mature Thunderhorse was as powerful as a Qi Refining adept; this was merely at the Fetal Breath stage.

With that in mind, Lu Qian flipped from the sedan, landing like a leaf.

The two paper men came to guard him.

The Thunderhorse’s horn and bones could be exchanged for Dao Merit—not to be missed.

Lu Qian pressed two paper figures; with a flash of flame, two paper men appeared, wearing bamboo hats and bearing hard bows.

The Thunderhorse’s horn was its deadliest weapon, its thunderous sound shaking the mind.

But only paper men were immune.

The two paper men emerged from hiding.

The Thunderhorse whipped its head around, ghostfire flickering in its eyes.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The horn sounded like thunder, sending a black wave surging outward.

Birds and beasts scattered in terror.

The two paper men seemed stunned, unmoving.

Whoosh!

The Thunderhorse became a gust of shadowy wind, leaping to land behind the paper men.

Its slender claws struck at their necks.

This was its killing technique—stun the target, then deliver a fatal blow.

Shhh!

The indigo claws pierced the paper men's necks easily.

The ghostfire in the Thunderhorse’s eyes flickered with confusion—where was the expected gush of blood?

A flash of blades—

The two paper men swung their knives in a reverse strike.