Chapter 291: Tianshu Sets the Head, Tianxuan Sets the Gate

"Collect!"

The white paper suddenly shrank, turning into a black speck the size of a grain of rice, and fell into Lu Yuan's palm.

There was no burning pain in his palm, only a profound chill.

The chill crawled up his meridians and finally stopped at his brow, forming a low, faint sob:

"Asheng, come back."

Asheng's body jolted, almost dropping to his knees.

Song Qinghe grabbed him to steady him.

"Don't listen."

"It's not her calling."

Asheng lifted his head, his face pale.

"It's from the well."

Lu Yuan sealed that tiny black speck into a yellow talisman, folded it into a triangle, bit his fingertip, and pressed the blood onto a corner.

"This is not its true body."

"It used Asheng's memories to shape a mother's image."

"If the mother's image disperses, the things in the base will swap faces."

No sooner had he spoken than a heavy "thud" sounded from deep inside the rear hall.

As if something had struck the wooden boards.

A second thud followed immediately.

Thud.

A dozen small beds in the hall all slid backward at once, their footboards scraping the floor and leaving black streaks, finally gathering into a semicircle.

All the children who had already been rescued curled up in the corners, while three children still lay on their beds.

The black grains on their chests did not crack open; instead they began to sprout.

The black shoots burst through skin, pushing outward from their chests and growing tiny leaves.

Xu Erxiao's face changed.

"That thing still grows?"

"It doesn't grow," Lu Yuan said, "it roots."

He looked up at the rear hall beam.

Suspended from the beam were strings of small wooden plaques, on which the children's birth data were written. Red cords hung below each plaque, trailing down into the chests of the three beds.

"These three were not trapped in the lamps."

"They were planted into the offering altar."

Lin Zhaoxuan raised his hand and touched the ink-line; the cord was coated with a layer of black frost.

"The red line runs through the beam and then deeper into the temple's foundation."

"Under the foundation there's something."

"A root?"

"Like a root, and like a bone."

Lu Yuan took out the remaining splinter of Gu Chuan's spirit tablet he had saved and pressed it to the floor.

No sooner had the wood touched the ground than black water seeped from the brick gaps of the rear hall.

The black water reversed along the red line, climbed up to the beam, and the three children on the beds opened their eyes at once.

There were no pupils in their eyes, only concentric rings of bluish wicks.

"Save me."

The three voices were identical.

Song Qinghe raised the bronze lamp; its flame trembled slightly.

"They're still alive."

"Alive, but their souls are suppressed."

"How do we save them?"

"First sever the plaques on the beam, then sever the roots under the foundation."

Zhou Heng gripped his short blade.

"I'll go for the beam."

"No."

Lu Yuan looked at the wooden plaques on the beam.

"The plaques bear birthdates; you can't just sever them."

"Birthdates are credentials of the living. If you cut them, the child's soul won't find its body."

"Then what do we do?"

Lu Yuan produced three yellow papers from his bosom and wrote the three children's names on them.

He moved to the first bed, leaned over, and asked:

"Child, what's your name?"

The boy's lips moved.

"My name is... Xiaoshun."

"When were you born?"

The boy didn't answer.

The black shoot from his chest suddenly lunged upward and seemed to clench a hand over his mouth.

Lu Yuan formed the "Open Orifice Seal" with his left hand, resting his index and middle fingers on the boy's brow, thumb pressing the ring finger, his palm slightly inward.

"Heaven's gate open a line, earth's door leave a part."

"Year and month return to the body, day and hour return to the bones."

"Not asking fate, only asking origin."

"Open!"

A wisp of white vapor rose from the boy's brow.

He strained and spoke:

"Republic year twelve... sixth month, third day."

Lu Yuan looked up at once.

The beam bore the same birth date.

He stuck the yellow paper beside the wooden plaque.

"Same birthdate, same person."

"The plaque is the old account, the paper is the new certificate."

"Old account retires, new certificate remains."

"Retire!"

The black characters on the plaque quickly faded.

The black shoot on the boy's chest immediately stopped growing.

Xu Erxiao vaulted up onto the bed frame, braced on the beam, and reached to remove that plaque.

He didn't tear it down; instead he turned it upside down and flipped it back onto the beam with the reverse side showing.

Lu Yuan said:

"That's correct."

"Why not just take it down?"

"Keep the plaque in the temple; the Malevolent Deity can still use it to recognize people.

"Once reversed, the old words don't match the soul."

Xu Erxiao asked again, "Is that sealed then?"

"Only half sealed."

Lu Yuan moved to the second bed.

The second child was a girl, her face pale, hair damp and plastered to her forehead.

"What's your name?"

"Chunni."

"When were you born?"

"Republic year fourteen... twelfth lunar month, seventh day."

Lu Yuan similarly attached the yellow paper.

But the moment he finished saying "retire," the black shoot in the girl's chest shot toward his wrist.

Lu Yuan sidestepped; the shoot brushed his sleeve and the fabric instantly iced over.

Song Qinghe shone the bronze lamp forward.

Under its flame, inside the girl's black grain, a tiny copper coin was revealed.

The coin had the two characters "Mother's Wish" carved on it.

"This isn't her own offering," Song Qinghe said.

"It is a wish her mother made on her behalf."

"What kind of wish?"

Dark tears spilled from the girl's eyes.

"My mother said, as long as I don't die, she'd be willing to live ten years less."

Lu Yuan looked at the coin.

"Ten years less isn't a wish to protect a life."

"The Malevolent Deity turned familial love into an account of lifespan."

He formed the "Resolve-Wish Seal," hands crossed, left thumb pressing the right middle finger, right index pointing at the coin.

"Mother's thought returns to mother, girl's life returns to girl."

"Ten years not as debt, one wish not as punishment."

"Affection can remain, accounts shall not stand."

"Resolve!"

The coin detached from the black grain and fell to the floor.

Lu Yuan did not crush it; he wrapped it in yellow paper.

"Return it to her mother."

"If her mother still wants to vow something, let her say it to her own child, not to the altar."

The second plaque on the beam was turned face-down.

The black shoot in the girl's chest withered at once.

There was no movement from the third bed.

The child there looked only three or four years old, his face covered by an old blue cloth.

Lu Yuan reached out and lifted the cloth.

The child's face was mottled with bluish patches; the needle-hole in his brow was deeper than Xiaoman's.

"What's his name?"

No response.

"Child?"

Still nothing.

Asheng came to the bedside and whispered:

"He can't hear."

"Why?"

"His name was eaten."

Lu Yuan looked up at the beam.

The third wooden plaque bore no name, only a blot of black lacquer that had been painted over.

He drew his broken blade, pressed the edge to the plaque's rim, and slowly scraped away the black lacquer.

One layer.

Two layers.

Three layers.

Beneath the lacquer, characters gradually emerged.

"Zhao...

"Shun?"

Wang Cheng'an asked from behind.

"No."

Lu Yuan kept scraping.

Below appeared the character "An."

"Zhao An."

The child on the bed suddenly opened his mouth.

No sound came out.

A puff of black smoke spewed from his mouth and condensed into a Daoist figure wearing a black robe.

The Daoist held a wooden fish, wore a mixed-origin headscarf, and had two slanted cinnabar lines painted on his face.

Mister Meng, standing outside the hall doorway, saw this black shape and his expression changed at once.

"The altar-keeper."

"You know it?"

Lu Yuan asked.

Mister Meng did not answer.

The black shape struck the wooden fish once.

Dong.

All the lamps in the hall went out simultaneously.

A second strike.

The black roots in the three children's chests violently elongated.

A third strike.

The black figure swung a palm toward Lu Yuan.

Lu Yuan raised his blade to parry.

There was no flesh in the black figure's hand, only stacked yellow talismans. The talismans wrapped around the blade like serpents, cinnabar bleeding into the steel.

"Celestial Shield!"

Lu Yuan stepped a gang step, left foot on the Kan position, right foot on the Qian position, pressing the blade down.

"North Dipper guards life, the Five Mountains seal the gate."

"Evil talismans do not bind, wooden fish do not ferry."

"Borrow one inch of the mountain gate, press it!"

The black figure was driven back half a step by the blade's force.

But behind it a black memorial arch suddenly rose.

Four lanterns hung from the arch, beneath each was written:

"Father."

"Mother."

"Master."

"Gate."

Lu Yuan's gaze hardened.

This was not a life-offering altar.

It was a "recognition altar."

The Malevolent Deity intended to nail children's lives back down by using the relationships people cling to most.

The black figure pointed at Lu Yuan.

"You have a sect and gate too."

"Your junior brothers are here."

"If you do not concede, they will enter the altar in place of these three children."

Xu Erxiao and Wang Cheng'an looked down at their feet at the same time.

Somehow their shadows were already entangled by red lines.

The other ends of those red lines connected to the "Master" character under the arch.

Wang Cheng'an lifted the frame of his abacus, wanting to smash the red line, but Lu Yuan shouted:

"Don't smash!"

"The sect line cannot be broken with brute force."

"Why?"

"It recognizes relationships, not rope."

Lu Yuan sheathed his knife, raised his left hand, and placed the index and middle fingers of his right hand on his own brow.

"The sect issues from a gate, the gate does not bind souls."

"Brothers have their names; names are not sacrifices."

"Today, in the name of a senior brother, I summon two junior brothers to return."

"Xu Erxiao!"

"Here!"

"Wang Cheng'an!"

"Here!"

"Do you acknowledge the sect?"

Without hesitation Xu Erxiao answered:

"Acknowledge!"

Wang Cheng'an said as well:

"Acknowledge!"

"Do you acknowledge the evil under that arch?"

"We do not!"

Both answered in unison.

Lu Yuan continued to chant:

"Acknowledge grace, not debt; acknowledge law, not evil."

"The sect protects people, not supplies the mountain gate."

"Bloodlines may be severed, the righteous way endures."

"Return!"

The red lines peeled off the two men's shadows and recoiled back to the arch.

The "Master" plaque split apart.

The black figure let out an enraged roar and lunged to grab Xu Erxiao.

Zhou Heng blocked with his blade.

Blade struck black palm; Zhou Heng was knocked back, his back hitting a hall pillar.

"Zhou Heng!"

"I'm fine."

Zhou Heng exhaled and his wrist trembled.

"Its strength is... wrong."

"That's not its strength."

Lu Yuan said.

"It's the yin essence of the entire temple behind the arch."

Lin Zhaoxuan looked around.

"Below this place are many coffins."

"The temple used to be a charitable hall."

"Later someone turned the charitable hall into an offering altar."

"The bones are all in the foundation."

Lu Yuan looked up at the beam.

"Then first let those below turn over."

He drove the remnant of Gu Chuan's tablet into the ground and formed the "Settle Soil Seal" with his right hand.

"Within the soil are bones, within the bones are names."

"The dead shall not become bricks, corpses shall not become roots."

"Today open the soil a line, send the bones to turn over."

"Yin and yang return each to its place, not to be borrowed by evil."

"Open!"

The earth thundered open.

Rows of white bones were exposed under the black brick gaps.

Those white bones were wrapped in red lines, their skulls all turned toward the rear hall, as if even in death they still kept watch for the Malevolent Deity.

When the red lines were cut, the bones began to roll over slowly.

The black figure howled.

"They are my gatekeepers!"

"They are the dead."

Lu Yuan severed the first red line with his blade.

"The dead have their own gates."

"You have no right to guard them."

Bone by bone tumbled from the foundation.

Some wore Daoist robes, some wore old military uniforms, and some still bore patched repairs from the exodus beyond the passes.

One skeleton had a copper plaque on its chest.

The plaque read:

"Qingxu Temple, Altar-guard disciple, Song Shouyi."

Mister Meng saw the plaque and suddenly fell to his knees.

"Master..."

Lu Yuan glanced at him.

"Your master?"

"No."

Mister Meng's voice was hoarse.

"He was my father."

"He brought me from beyond the passes to escape and we sheltered in this temple."

"Later he said the mountain god could protect us."

"He became the first generation altar-keeper."

"And you?"

"I took his lamp."

Mister Meng looked up, eyes full of pain.

"I thought if I kept guarding, I could live forever."

"But after twenty-odd years of guarding, everyone became shadows in the lamps."

Lu Yuan said:

"Now you see clearly."

"Then don't only kneel."

"Tell me, what else is under the oath stela?"

Mister Meng looked at the split earth.

"Below is the root shrine."

"Root shrine?"

"The offering altar didn't start at the merging."

"Before this temple was built, there was a stone shrine in the mountain."

"The stone shrine did not worship a mountain god; it worshiped a stone that could breathe."

"My father said that stone could remember the wishes of the dead."

"Later it grew eyes."

"Later it had a voice."

Asheng whispered:

"It's it."

Lu Yuan looked at him.

"You've seen it?"

"In the main grotto."

"It said it was the mountain."

"It was not the mountain."

Asheng tightened his sleeve.

"It was all the wishes in the mountain that were never returned."

The black figure seized the moment of distraction and suddenly transformed into a gust of black wind, rolling toward the depths of the rear hall.

Lu Yuan raised his blade and pursued.

"Don't let it into the root shrine!"

They rushed through the rear hall.

The ground's fissure extended down, revealing stone steps descending.

There were no lamps along the steps, only wooden plaques stuck upside-down in the ground.

Each plaque bore the single character "Life."

Lu Yuan set foot on the first step, and a voice sprang up at his side:

"Hand Asheng over."

Second step.

"Hand Xiaoman over."

Third step.

"Hand all the children over."

On the fourth step, the voice turned into Lu Yuan's own:

"Put down the blade."

"You've rescued enough."

"You don't need to continue."

Lu Yuan did not answer.

He re-lined everyone behind the red cloth knot.

"From now on, whoever hears their own voice must form the Ziwu Seal with the left hand."

"Whoever hears a relative's voice must press the brow with the right hand."

"Sound can deceive the ear, not the hand seal."

Song Qinghe asked, "What if the voice learns the hand seals too?"

"Then we'll see who sweats first."

Wang Cheng'an blinked.

"Evil things sweat too?"

"Those with blood sweat."

"And those without blood?"

"No blood, no warmth."

Lin Zhaoxuan raised a hand and felt the stone wall ahead.

"There is wind below."

"Wind from outside the mountain?"

"No. It's blowing out from the root shrine."

Lu Yuan stopped at the end of the steps.

There was a stone door with three lines inscribed:

"Those who enter the gate, offer their wish."

"Those who see the stone, offer their name."

"Those who leave the gate, offer their life."

In the center of the door was a recessed palm-shaped groove.

Mister Meng stepped up to the stone door.

"To open the root shrine, someone must press the palm."

"Who presses?"

"The altar-keeper."

"You do it."

Mister Meng shook his head.

"I pressed once."

"That time, my father had my name carved into it."

He opened his right hand.

A deep black palm line grazed his palm, as if cut by a blade.

"If I press, the shrine will recognize me."

"It will also release the things that guard the shrine."

"If you don't press, the door won't open."

Mister Meng looked at Lu Yuan.

"Unless you have a name harder than mine."

Lu Yuan walked to the stone door and raised his right hand.

Asheng grabbed his sleeve.

"Brother Lu, don't."

"Why?"

"The door eats names."

"It will eat mine first, then yours."

Lu Yuan looked at Asheng.

"You want to press?"

Asheng did not answer.

"You just said where it crawled out."

"Now you want to go in and see?"

"I want to take back the remaining life force."

Lu Yuan nodded.

"Then it's not offering a name."

"It is you placing your name inside and taking it back yourself."

He took the blank wooden plaque from his bosom and stuck it into the palm recess.

The plaque had no palm print, only an empty slot.

Lu Yuan formed the "Stop-Name Seal."

"Names are set by people, the imprint opens by heart."

"Entering without offering, seeing the stone without bowing."

"I use the empty plaque as proof, leaving no full name, only a thought."

"If the thought remains, the person is not lost."

"Open!"

The palm print on the stone began to blacken.

Fine lines extended from the empty slot and coiled toward Lu Yuan's wrist.

Lu Yuan did not struggle; instead he pressed his own palm to the stone.

The stone bit his palm wound.

Black lines rapidly inscribed two characters:

"Lu Yuan."

The stone door emitted a low laugh.

"Name has entered the gate."

"You belong to me."

Lu Yuan looked down at the two black characters.

He raised his left hand and pressed it to his chest.

"Name into the gate, life not yet entered."

"Word on the stone, person remains outside."

"If you only recognize the word, you have accepted the wrong thing."

He slid his broken knife into the palm slot and turned the handle.

"Names are not locks, blood is not the key."

"The empty plaque reflects back, the old gate will split."

"Break!"

A crack exploded through the center of the stone door.

Black lines were severed by the blade.

A rancid wind rushed out from the fissure.

The wind smelled of incense ash, blood, and wet earth.

The stone door slowly opened.

Behind it was a low, squat stone shrine.

There were no deities inside.

Only a half-man-high black stone stood on a three-foot square platform.

The black stone breathed.

With every inhale, every white lamp outside dimmed a bit.

With every exhale, an eye opened across the black stone's surface.

Countless red lines wound beneath the black stone, connecting to the land beyond the passes.

The three thickest lines led to Xiaoman Stockade, the Birch Forest, and the main grotto in the mountain's belly.

Before the black stone stood the black-robed silhouette.

It no longer held the shape of a Daoist; merely a paper-covered skeleton remained.

"Lu Yuan."

"You have finally come."

Lu Yuan stepped into the stone shrine.

"What's your name?"

"I am the spirit that guards the shrine."

"Not a name."

"I am the root of this mountain."

"Also not a name."

The black skeleton lifted its head.

"Why are you so attached to names?"

Lu Yuan pointed the blade tip at the black stone.

"Because things without names love making choices for others most of all."

The black stone's eyes opened simultaneously.

A rumbling came from the depths.

All the red lines around the shrine snapped taut.

In the direction of Xiaoman Stockade, the villagers' wrists, which had recently cleared black marks, had them reappear.

Deep in the mountain, three root steles that had begun to crack glowed again.

Asheng clutched his chest and knelt in pain.

"It's drawing my life character!"

Lu Yuan stepped forward and drove the broken blade into the platform before the black stone.

"Qinghe, protect Asheng."

"Zhaoxuan, sever the left line."

"Zhou Heng, guard the stone door."

"Erxiao, Cheng'an, go right, first rescue the villagers."

"Mister Meng, stay."

Mister Meng froze.

"Stay to do what?"

"Look after your father's bones."

Lu Yuan pointed to the corner of the shrine.

There lay a skeleton in a Daoist robe, fingers still curled around a bronze lamp that had gone out.

"Help him down from the altar position."

"He guarded his whole life; he should not still be guarding in death."

Mister Meng came over on his knees.

The black skeleton sneered.

"He dares not."

Mister Meng reached to touch the skeleton.

The bronze lamp in the skeleton's hand flared with black fire.

From the flame a hoarse voice emerged:

"Meng Jun, hold the lamp."

"It must not go out."

Mister Meng trembled all over.

"Father."

"Hold the lamp."

"You said the same once."

"Hold the lamp, the whole village lives."

"But you died."

"Your son also died."

"The thing you guarded is not the lamp."

Mister Meng lowered his head to the skeleton.

"It is the lock it gave you."

The black fire flared upward and tried to pierce Mister Meng's brow.

Lu Yuan shouted:

"Don't stare at the fire!"

Mister Meng shut his eyes and formed the "Send-Family Seal."

He had not learned complete Daoist technique; he simply pressed his thumb onto his palm and pushed forward with four fingers as if opening a door.

"Father, I will not guard the lamp."

"You return to earth."

"I return to the living."

"We, father and son, will not watch its gate."

He slammed the bronze lamp down onto the ground.

The black flame was extinguished.

The skeleton's fingers relaxed, and the bronze lamp rolled aside.

Mister Meng picked up his father's skeleton and walked out of the stone shrine.

The black skeleton screeched and lunged.

Zhou Heng held the blade across.

"Now it's my turn."

The black skeleton's claw reached for Zhou Heng's chest.

Zhou Heng did not fall back; he planted his left foot and gripped the short blade reversed in his right hand, the pommel against his wrist.

"Fleeing from the passes, borrowing a route beyond."

"I don't acknowledge your mountain-god gate."

"The dead have graves, the living have paths."

"Who dares block my brothers?"

He slashed horizontally with his blade.

"Back!"

The black skeleton was cleaved half apart.

Lin Zhaoxuan simultaneously threw out ink-lines and bound the thick cord leading to Birch Forest.

"Ink steadies the three realms, lines split yin and yang."

"The lost shadows of the woods, today return to the soil."

"Red lines shall not draw, lamps shall not feed."

"Cut!"

The line snapped taut and broke.

A wave of trees crashing down echoed from the Birch Forest direction.

Xu Erxiao and Wang Cheng'an had already rushed to the right.

There, the red line connecting to Xiaoman Stockade was as thick as a bowl rim, densely carved with villagers' names.

Xu Erxiao swung his sword to chop it, but the blade bounced off.

Wang Cheng'an jammed the abacus frame into the red line.

"Erxiao, don't cut!"

"This thing is too thick!"

"First calculate where it starts."

Wang Cheng'an flipped remaining beads.

One, two, three.

The names on the red line began to flicker.

"Starts from the Zhao family."

"Then to the Chen family."

"Finally gathers at the old Meng house!"

Xu Erxiao looked to Lu Yuan.

"Senior Brother, you can't cut all the red lines, the village will suffer!"

Lu Yuan said:

"Cut the master line, not the household lines."

"First pull the master line from the black stone."

Wang Cheng'an understood at once.

He wedged the abacus frame between the red line and the stone platform and gritted his teeth to pull.

"This ledger will not be counted against the villagers today!"

Xu Erxiao inserted his short sword under the abacus frame as a lever and together they heaved.

The red line slipped half an inch from the stone platform.

The black stone gave a muffled sound.

All its many eyes turned toward them.

A cloud of black gas surged at the two.

Lu Yuan formed the "North Dipper Locking Gate Seal" with both hands.

"Heavenly Pivot sets the head, Heavenly Jade sets the gate."

"Heavenly Mechanism sets the qi, Heavenly Balance sets the conduct."

"Jade Scale calms the soul, Opening Yang calms the spirit."

"Shaking Light seals the root!"

He stepped seven times in succession, each step on a different tile of the shrine's bricks.

On the last step seven beams of white light rose from the ground, forming the North Dipper.

The black gas struck the Dipper-shaped light and shrieked sharply.

Lu Yuan pointed his blade at the black stone.

"Life qi returns to people."

"Death qi returns to the earth."

"Wishing qi returns to hearts."

"Offering lines shall be severed."

"Today we do not cleave the mountain; first we sever the roots you borrow!"

The blade fell.

The black stone did not shatter.

But all the eyes on its surface wept black water at once.

The black water fell and condensed into a huge humanoid form.

That figure had no face; on its chest were three black nails.

They were the "Name," "Life," and "Death" nails from the main grotto earlier.

It raised its hand to press onto Lu Yuan.

Asheng suddenly ripped free from Song Qinghe's side.

He pressed both hands to his chest and whispered:

"My life qi— you cannot take it again."

A black stone eye turned toward him.

"You are what I raised."

"I raised you, not for you to take from me."

"You did not raise me."

Asheng clenched his teeth.

"You merely hid other people's lives you dared not spend inside me."

Bluish light poured out from his chest.

One, two, three streams.

Countless broken faces formed within the light.

Those who had been pressed into the "Life" character by the Malevolent Deity stood behind Asheng.

They said nothing, only pressed their hands to their own chests.

Asheng raised his head and formed an imperfect hand seal.

His hands joined, thumbs crossing, index fingers pointing upward like a tender shoot pushing through frozen ground.

"Life comes from oneself."

"Life does not borrow the altar."

"My name is Asheng."

"My life belongs to me."

"Return!"

The blue light expanded suddenly.

All the eyes on the black stone shut at once.

Lu Yuan seized the moment, swung his broken blade and struck at the three master lines on the platform.

"Cut!"

The first, the line to Birch Forest, severed.

The second, the line to Xiaoman Stockade, cracked.

The third, the line to the mountain's main grotto, remained taut.

That line was the thickest, and through it came the Malevolent Deity's furious roar.

"You have already seen me."

"Why do you still refuse to offer to me?"

Lu Yuan gripped the blade, pressing the tip to the line.

"Because you are unworthy."

"I guard this mountain."

"You eat the mountain's lives."

"I saved people."

"You borrow people's fear of death."

"I remember the dead."

"You carve the dead's names into gate plaques."

"If you cannot keep them, don't call yourself a god."

The Malevolent Deity's roar shook the shrine roof, sending snow cascading down.

A huge crack split the black stone's surface.

Behind the fissure a slow-beating mass of black fetal flesh was exposed.

Embedded in that flesh were countless lamps.

Each lamp reflected a face in supplication.

When Lu Yuan saw one face he froze.

It was Xiaoman's face.

The next moment it shifted to Asheng.

Then to Xu Erxiao, Wang Cheng'an, Lin Zhaoxuan, Song Qinghe, and Zhou Heng.

The Malevolent Deity was trying to remake a "human face" from the faces of the gathered people.

"Senior Brother Lu!"

Lin Zhaoxuan shouted.

"The master line has three locks!"

"Which three?"

"First is name, second is wish, third is..."

He looked at the cracked stone.

"Third is life!"

Lu Yuan understood.

The master line was not a single cord.

It was three layers of offerings stacked together.

Name let the Malevolent Deity remember people.

Wish made people approach on their own.

Life let it truly form a body.

Missing any of the three, the offering line would break.

He placed Gu Chuan's remnant tablet, Meng An's old plaque, and the yellow talisman containing the mother's image on the platform together.

"Gu Chuan, return to earth."

"Meng An, return to name."

"Mother image, return to wish."

All three items emitted a faint glow.

Lu Yuan formed the "Return Seal" with his left hand and placed the broken blade across the three objects with his right.

"Names not for gates, wishes not for incense, life not for grain."

"The dead return to earth, lost names to the list, the living to their bodies."

"Evil borrows accounts; today we clear the ledger."

"Accounts cleared—"

He thrust the three items at the master line.

"Break!"

The three struck the line.

The first black strand snapped.

Countless names flew out of the line and fell toward the shrine's outside.

The second red strand gave a mournful cry.

The "wish" characters detached one by one and turned into tiny white flames.

The third bluish-black strand began to contract.

The fetal flesh within the stone crack convulsed violently.

"Only one last mouthful of life qi remains!"

The Malevolent Deity roared.

It suddenly forced all the faces in the black lamps onto Asheng.

Asheng's body convulsed as the bluish light at his chest was violently pulled out.

Song Qinghe stepped forward and formed the "Protect-Life Seal."

Left palm supported Asheng's back, right palm covered his heart, thumbs touching.

"Fire guards the heart, lamp guards the name."

"People have three souls, not to be borrowed."

"Life comes from earth, fate returns to the body."

"Evil cannot seize, wishes cannot be moved."

"Protect!"

But the Malevolent Deity's force was enormous.

Song Qinghe was sent stumbling backward three steps, blood at the corner of her mouth.

Lu Yuan steadied her.

"Qinghe, retreat outside the door."

"I can still guard."

"You guard the lamp, not him."

"The lamp stays here."

Song Qinghe formed the seal and raised the bronze lamp.

The last spark in the lamp had shrunk to the size of a bean but still burned steady.

"Fire hasn't gone out yet."

Lu Yuan looked at that spark and suddenly said:

"Give the lamp to Asheng."

Song Qinghe hesitated.

"His life qi is unstable; the lamp will be absorbed."

"That's precisely why we should let it absorb."

Lu Yuan drew Asheng to the platform.

"Asheng, hold the lamp."

Asheng took the bronze lamp with both hands.

"Will it take my life?"

"It will."

"What should I do?"

"Don't guard the lamp."

"Guard what?"

"Guard your own name."

Asheng closed his eyes.

The flame in the bronze lamp flared up violently.

Black gas from the cracked stone surged toward it like countless serpents, pouring into the lamp.

The bronze lamp hummed.

Asheng's body grew increasingly transparent.

Lu Yuan stood behind him and formed the "Soul-Stabilizing Seal."

"Mind's brow guards the name, throat guards the voice, heart guards life."

"Name not confused, voice not changed, life not released."

"Asheng, recite your name."

"My name is Asheng."

"Again."

"My name is Asheng."

"Again!"

"My name is Asheng!"

On the third recitation, the bronze lamp suddenly burst.

The flame did not extinguish; it became a teal seed of fire and shot straight into Asheng's chest.

The black gas within the black stone was forced back.

The thickest master line, deprived of life support, finally snapped from the platform.

The broken line leapt up like a black snake and fled toward the rear of the shrine.

Lu Yuan chased and struck the black snake seven inches from its head with one cut.

The black snake split in two.

The front half fell to the ground and turned into countless black offering papers.

The rear half crawled into the black stone crack.

The black stone did not completely shatter.

It rapidly shrank; eyes on its surface closed one by one until only a fist-sized black core remained.

Four characters surfaced on the black stone core:

"Unfinished, awaiting offerings."

Mister Meng saw those four characters and said suddenly:

"It hasn't died."

"I know."

"It will grow again from other offering lines."

"Perhaps."

Lu Yuan pressed his broken blade against the black stone core.

"But it has no body today."

The black stone core gave a low vibration.

"You cannot seal me."

Lu Yuan took out the blank offering paper he had brought from the cave, wrapped the black stone core in it, and drew three gates on the paper with cinnabar, salt, and incense ash.

The first gate inscribed: "Name Stopped."

The second: "Wishes Scattered."

The third: "Life Returned."

Finally, he wrote the character "Seal" on the paper's back with his own blood.

"Mountain gate as boundary, black stone as heart."

"No nameless may go out, no wishes may gather."

"Life qi returns to people, death qi returns to earth."

"Today temporarily sealed; do not borrow lamps, wells, or people."

"Seal!"

The yellow paper tightened abruptly.

The black stone core was sealed within, still faintly beating inside.

Lu Yuan handed it to Lin Zhaoxuan.

"Wind the ink-line around three turns, bury it into the charitable hall's foundation."

Lin Zhaoxuan accepted and immediately complied.

"How deep?"

"Seven feet."

"If it moves?"

"First the line snaps, then the stone splits."

"What then?"

"Cut it again."

Outside the stone shrine, dawn had started to pale the sky.

The wind and snow gradually faded.

From the direction of Xiaoman Stockade came a rooster's crow.

The first was weak.

At the second crow, the red lamps in the village that had relit one by one flickered out.

After the third crow, all the red cords on the snow turned to ash.

The footprints that had been taken by the Malevolent Deity—those in Birch Forest, the old stockade, and beside the offering cart—slowly emerged and returned to their owners' feet.

The three children in the rear hall also woke one after another.

Xiaoshun cried for his mother.

Chunni clung to Song Qinghe's leg and wouldn't let go.

Zhao An simply opened his eyes and stared steadily at the beam.

Lu Yuan walked over and took the yellow paper with his own name off the beam.

"Do you still remember your name?"

Zhao An opened his mouth.

"Zhao An."

"Where are you from?"

"Xiaoman Stockade."

"Where do you want to go?"

Zhao An looked toward the door.

"Home."

"Then go."

The child climbed down. His steps were still a little unsteady, but the black root did not drag him back.

Mister Meng carried his father's bones out of the stone shrine.

He clutched the remnant of Gu Chuan's tablet, Meng An's old plaque, and several unnamed wooden plaques to his chest.

Standing in the pale snow, he looked suddenly ten years older.

"Daoist Lu, the root shrine is sealed."

"But offering lines from thirty-seven stockades still exist."

"Some lines are cut."

"Some only loosened."

"Some offering altars are not even on the surface."

Lu Yuan put away the sealed black stone core.

"Do you know where they are?"

Mister Meng nodded.

"My father left a map."

"The map shows the three largest offering grounds."

"First is Xiaoman Stockade."

"Second is the Ma family gully north of the Birch Forest."

"The third..."

He raised his head and looked toward the main mountain.

"The third is in the big grotto where you first entered the mountain."

"The main grotto is sealed."

"The door was sealed."

Mister Meng said in a low voice.

"But the offering lines remain."

"And after last night, the Malevolent Deity no longer sends life qi to the main grotto."

"It has redirected the remaining offering qi to Ma family gully."

"There is a Guan Di temple there."

Zhou Heng frowned.

"A Guan Di temple can feed the Malevolent Deity?"

"It is not Guan Di that is worshiped in the temple," Mister Meng said.

"It's a righteous well behind the Guan Di temple."

"The well contains those who fled long ago."

"They believed if Guan Di protected the weapons and the mountain god guarded the path, they'd pass safely."

Lu Yuan looked north.

Beyond the snow line a wisp of black smoke rose.

Above the smoke no wind blew, yet it formed an inverted hanging blade.

The blade tip pointed directly at Ma family gully.

Asheng stood beside Lu Yuan; the teal fire-seed in his chest glowed faintly.

"It's there."

"Calling you?"

"Not calling me."

Asheng watched the black smoke.

"It's calling everyone."

Lu Yuan sheathed his broken blade.

"First take the children and stockade folk to safety."

"Then go to Ma family gully."

Xu Erxiao immediately said:

"Senior Brother, shall we leave now?"

"It's just dawn, rest half an hour first."

"Will the Malevolent Deity let us rest?"

"It won't."

Lu Yuan looked at the inverted black blade in the distance.

"That's precisely why we must rest."

"What comes next to be severed is not a lamp."

"It is a temple, a well, and a crowd of people willing to hand themselves in."

Wang Cheng'an hugged the leftover abacus frame tightly.

"That's a big ledger."

"Big or not, it must be settled."

Lu Yuan turned and looked toward the still-snowing mountains beyond the passes.

A faint bell sounded from deep within the mountain.

Dong.

The black stone core sealed in yellow paper twitched.

The "Seal" character written on the paper's back cracked a hairline.

Lu Yuan glanced down and used cinnabar to mend it.

"It hasn't died."

"But it's no longer a god."

"Let's go."

They set off north along the snowy ridge.

Behind them at Xiaoman Stockade the first sunlight finally reached the village entrance.

Old man Zhao Shude knelt by the old well and personally laid his son's apparition to rest in the earth.

No more cries rose from the well.

Only a wind passed through carrying the smell of roasted potatoes, cooking smoke, and newly turned soil.

Farther away at Ma family gully, the broken bell of the Guan Di temple suddenly tolled on its own.

From the righteous well behind the temple, a hand bound with a red cord slowly emerged.

A wooden plaque was wound around the wrist.

Two newly carved characters were on the plaque:

"Lu Yuan."