Chapter Twenty-Five: The Moon Demon

There were at least a hundred patients in this group. As an apothecary, Lu Qian could easily cure a dozen or so, but to heal everyone with a mere wave of his hand, as the fat man claimed, was surely impossible. Did the Master of the Fragrant Sect truly possess such divine powers? Lu Qian found this highly doubtful.

Suddenly, someone tapped Lu Qian’s shoulder. Turning, he saw a woman’s smiling face. “Tang Bing, the Daoist novice!” It was indeed Tang Bing. Lu Qian frowned in puzzlement, “Where are Yu Ci and the others?”

“They’re across the street,” Tang Bing replied, pointing. “As soon as we received your message, we came out to meet you.”

As they spoke, a loud clamor of drums and gongs echoed through the air. Both looked up, and even Lu Qian, usually calm, was taken aback by the spectacle before them.

At the head of the procession marched a troupe beating gongs and drums, some dressed in theatrical costumes, walking on stilts and impersonating various immortals. Behind them, thirty-two men carried an enormous sedan chair, gilded and encrusted with gems, hanging with pearls—an opulent, moving palace.

Every member of the procession wore white robes and hats reminiscent of the carefree headscarves worn by Daoists during the Spirit-nourishing phase. These hats, square and wrapped around hairpins, let two long, floating ribbons hang down. As they moved, the ribbons danced, imparting an air of freedom and ease. Yet, their design differed slightly—after all, this was under the jurisdiction of the Universal Spirit Temple, and they dared not offend its customs.

As the procession approached, devotees lining the street began lighting incense. For a moment, the entire city was suffused with fragrance and swirling smoke.

“These people in white are disciples of the Fragrant Sect,” Tang Bing whispered as she leaned in. A subtle, delicate scent drifted to Lu Qian’s nose—not from the incense, but Tang Bing herself. Though her looks were unremarkable, her skin was fair as befit those who cultivated. She was merely pleasant, but her figure was the most graceful Lu Qian had ever seen.

Lu Qian hurriedly shook his head, dispelling stray thoughts. What was wrong with him, always thinking such things? Was he truly considering dual cultivation?

“Be careful; this incense seems to cloud the mind,” Tang Bing warned softly, her palm resting on Lu Qian’s shoulder. A chill swept through him, instantly sharpening his senses. Looking around, he saw the crowd lost in fervor.

“How are you unaffected?” Lu Qian asked.

“My cultivation may be lower than yours, but in matters of illusion, no one can beguile me,” Tang Bing replied confidently.

The sight of smoke and incense filling the city was a first for Lu Qian.

“Doesn’t the Fragrant Sect fear the temple’s disapproval, being so ostentatious?” he wondered aloud.

“So long as their activities don’t infringe on the sect’s interests, no matter how extravagant, the temple won’t interfere,” Tang Bing explained. “Besides, Baiyang City has more than one power. Apart from the Fragrant Sect, there’s the City Lord and the Five Spirits Temple. Both the City Lord and the Five Spirits Temple Master are mid-stage Qi cultivators; together, their strength matches the Fragrant Sect’s.”

In terms of heritage, the Universal Spirit Temple reigned supreme. The temple actively recruited talents from other sects, yet few joined, for compared to the hardship of mountain retreat, it was far more comfortable to rule as local lords within a hundred-mile radius.

For instance, not even the eight chief stewards Lu Qian had met matched this spectacle. “Fragrant Sect Master, boundless power!” Under the influence of the peculiar incense, the city folk chanted slogans with wild enthusiasm.

At that moment, a man in white emerged from the main pavilion. His hair and beard were snowy white, yet his face was that of a young man in his twenties—handsome, elegant, and brimming with vigor. With a flourishing gesture, he sent forth a white arc.

Bang!

The arc shattered, scattering light like rain onto the heads of the sick in the front. Their faces flushed, wounds and illnesses visibly healed, bodies restored to health.

Tens of thousands cheered ecstatically, as the Fragrant Sect Master stood bathed in a faint white glow.

“Hmm?” Lu Qian sensed something amiss. These people were not truly cured; it seemed more like a technique that burned away their life force, making them appear healthy for now. The gravely ill would survive at most another year or two, the luckiest perhaps a dozen.

As for the white glow enveloping the Sect Master, it resembled a certain method—a practice that cultivated power through the collective faith of others.

But then, it made sense. Cultivators prized practical gain; without significant benefit, they wouldn’t waste time with such displays.

At the front of the procession, a lavish sedan chair was carried. From it stepped a woman, her face veiled in gauze, her figure alluring. Her every movement radiated a mesmerizing charm.

Suddenly, the weather shifted; dark clouds roiled, wind howled, blocking out the sun. Within the storm, a crescent moon appeared faintly. Moonlight spilled gracefully, elegant and serene. On its surface were scattered spots, forming abstract patterns.

The ancients spoke of the Golden Toad and Jade Rabbit, but Lu Qian, with his memories of a former life, knew these were merely meteorite craters.

In the midst of the crowd’s startled cries, the celestial maiden touched her toes lightly and soared like a feather toward the moon. The moon’s brilliance burst forth; in an instant, the world was restored to its original state.

This was the famed Celestial Maiden Pursues the Moon.

Yet, in that fleeting moment, Lu Qian detected something unusual—a faint trace of demonic aura from the moon above.

Tang Bing beside him seemed to ponder. “You sensed it too?” Lu Qian asked.

“Yes. It’s as if the moon is a demon, and the woman is to be sacrificed,” Tang Bing replied.

If the Fragrant Sect truly could summon the moon, the territory of the Universal Spirit Temple would surely be theirs. “The disappearance of dozens of women very likely has much to do with the Fragrant Sect,” Lu Qian mused.

Tang Bing nodded emphatically, “We think so as well. The Baiyang City Lord is too old to act, and the Five Spirits Temple has few people. In recent years, the Fragrant Sect has become the city’s dominant power.”

Truth be told, the Universal Spirit Temple also practiced cultivation methods involving living beings—humans included. As long as order wasn’t disrupted and actions weren’t blatant, many turned a blind eye.

But the affair in Baiyang City was known to all. Whether committed by insiders or outsiders, the truth had to be uncovered.

Once the banquet ended, the group reconvened.

“Why not begin our investigation here? The Fragrant Sect acts so boldly—perhaps we can discover the truth behind the women’s disappearance,” Lu Qian suggested. He suspected that reckless ambition often led people to overstep.

“I think it’s worth a try. Why don’t we sneak up the mountain tonight to see what demonic force is at work?” the burly, black-faced Yan Xinglie proposed.

“No,” Yu Ci shook his head. “The Fragrant Sect Master is a late-stage Qi cultivator. We should wait for our fellow Daoist to arrive, then visit the City Lord together to probe the Fragrant Sect’s true nature.”

No matter how renowned the Universal Spirit Temple was, it was simply too far away. If they acted rashly, they could easily be killed. Even if vengeance came later, their lives would be forfeit.

“I second that,” Lu Qian agreed. It was better to be cautious; it was just a mission—not worth risking their lives.

It was said the Baiyang City Lord and the Fragrant Sect Master were not on good terms. In recent years, the City Lord had aged, leaving the sect unchecked.

Know your enemy and yourself, and you will always be victorious. They might even gain an ally.