Chapter 147 Roar of the Gods

The roars of the ghosts and gods soared to the sky in the Jingshan Temple, shaking the roof tiles loose. The entire temple was on the verge of collapse amidst the roaring. Outside the walls, ghosts clung to the top, standing side by side, their disheveled hair flying in the wind, their blood-red eyes staring at Ye Yang with icy daggers.

Ye Yang smiled, pointing his sword at the temple gate and pushing it forward.

Ye Yang's sword stance seemed as calm as water, but with every inch forward, the pressure of the sword increased exponentially. After the sword tip extended three meters, Ye Yang's sword stance had reached a level that was terrifying.

The constantly accumulating sword momentum was like a collapsing building or a crumbling peak. Once Ye Yang released it, the sword momentum he held in his hand would inevitably burst forth like a river breaking its banks, sweeping everything away with unstoppable force.

Ye Yang took five steps, pushing the sword forward five meters. His steps remained steady, but the ghosts' wails in the temple began to fluctuate, even carrying a hint of fear.

Ye Yang and the mountain god were not making any moves, only competing with their auras. The ghosts and gods in the temple had clearly lost.

After Ye Yang's sixth step landed, the sword in his hand flew out. The light sword, only two fingers wide, left Ye Yang's palm and crashed against the gate of the mountain god's temple – a gate that only had a frame without doors – like a battering ram.

Ye Yang's sword caused a huge震 (zhen, tremor) inside the mountain god's temple. The statue on the offering table collapsed with a crash. Dust filled the temple, and clods of mud flew everywhere. Even with Feng Ruoxing's eyesight, it was difficult to see clearly what was happening inside the temple from afar.

While Feng Ruoxing raised his sword in vigilance, Ye Yang slowly walked into the temple gate. Not long after, Ye Yang came out again, holding half of a broken compass in his hand: "Send a message to Ben Gou (stupid dog): there's a compass in the Jingshan Temple! It only lets us go south."

Although Feng Ruoxing didn't know what Ye Yang meant, he still activated the communication talisman as quickly as possible.

At that time, I was just opening the door, preparing to welcome the ghosts in.

I frowned when I heard Ye Yang's message: Ye Yang wasn't usually a wishy-washy person, so why was he telling me everything he was doing now?

Before I could figure out what Ye Yang was up to, Feng Ruoxing added: "Ye Yang told me to tell you that this place is called Jingshan Temple. Chen Xiaobao isn't completely ignorant; he has some understanding of术士 (shushi, Daoist priests/sorcerers)."

"Jingshan Temple, Chen Xiaobao, Chen Xiaobei!"

A thought suddenly flashed through my mind, and my eyes narrowed sharply: "Tell Ye Yang to stay put and wait for my message."

I turned to look at Lao Liu: "How much do you know about Weizi Alley? Can you draw a map of the entire Weizi Alley for me?"

"Wait a moment!" Lao Liu rummaged through his bag, took out paper and pen, and began drawing a map on the table.

I then heard someone speaking softly at the door: "Uncle, my grandpa asked me to bring you dumplings."

When I turned to look at the door, a child had appeared there. He was holding a bowl of dumplings with yellowed edges, standing on the doorstep with his feet dangling in the air, staring at me with a pair of dark eyes, waiting for me to speak.

I couldn't see any white in the child's eyes, only lifeless black. But his lips were as red as blood, making him look like a little鬼 (gui, ghost) who had just eaten a dead person, giving me a faint, cold smile.

Xu Er and Xu San simultaneously took a step back and drew their crossbows, aiming them at the child at the door.

I stood up and gently pressed down on their shoulders: "A neighbor visiting; how can we not welcome him? Don't you think?"

Sweat rolled down Xu Er's forehead: "Li-ye, that's a dead man's meal! You must not..."

I guessed that Xu Er wanted to say: "You must not act tough."

But he swallowed the words back down.

"Dead man's meal" meant that a ghost had brought the meal offered at the grave to a living person. Like the bowl of dumplings the child was holding, they had been sitting for who knows how long. Even the dough was yellowed. Looking closely, I could see paper ash on the dumplings – they were clearly things scavenged from a pile of burnt offerings.

Under normal circumstances, when a ghost came to deliver a meal, they wouldn't let the other person see that they were holding a bowl of dead man's food. Only by tricking the living person into eating the meal could they have a chance to drag the living person to the graveyard and bring them into their home.

Once a living person entered a ghost's home, they could forget about ever coming out again. Whether they would be given food or become food themselves was hard to say.

I walked up to the child and squatted down, taking the large bowl of dumplings with one hand: "Thank your grandpa for me."

The child stuck out his tongue and licked his bright red lips: "Uncle, aren't you going to eat them? These dumplings are very delicious! The filling is made with fresh meat."

I casually put the bowl on the ground, pulled out my wine flask from my backpack, and secretly rubbed my left hand on the flask, throwing a spirit talisman sealed in a wax ball into the flask: "Take this wine back to your grandpa and tell him: dumplings with wine, the more you eat, the more you have. He gave me dumplings, and I'll give him back a flask of wine."

The child's face, which was already pale, seemed to become even paler: "No, no... My grandpa said, you can't just take your things. No!"