The so-called Yizhuang originated from folk customs during the Song Dynasty.
Among the clans across various regions, some were wealthy while others were poor. The rich would contribute funds to establish Yizhuang—charitable clan estates that housed ancestral halls, communal farmland, and even private tutors who taught the children of impoverished clansmen to read.
In any place, when the wealthy set up a Yizhuang, it was considered a benevolent deed and praised by all.
Of course, maintaining a Yizhuang of such scale came at a high cost. As families declined, many Yizhuang eventually served only a single purpose—storing corpses.
This was especially true in large cities like Xianyang. Near ancient ferry crossings, with a constant flow of merchants and people seeking livelihoods from the north and south, it was not uncommon for some to die far from home.
People of Shenzhou believed in "returning to one's roots," and when outsiders died, they were often stored in a Yizhuang, awaiting a compassionate fellow villager or a family member to transport them back to their homeland.
The Yizhuang of Xianyang was located outside the city, to the west.
This place had once been a royal hunting ground in ancient times, thus the terrain was vast, with many hills, dense forests, and even an old Temple of the Medicine King.
The road leading to the Yizhuang was flanked on both sides by woodland.
Within the woods, numerous coffins rested. Typically, they were placed on three-inch-high brick platforms with rounded coverings built around them for shelter.
Some had been there for so long that the brickwork had collapsed and was covered in moss...
Some didn't even have platforms—just wooden supports, which had long since decayed and collapsed. Even the coffins themselves were cracked and blackened…
Seeing Li Yan and his companion glancing about, Wang Daoxuan explained, "This is called floating storage. According to burial rites, coffins must not touch the ground before interment. If the children can't dig a grave in time, or if someone dies far from home, they are temporarily placed like this."
Sha Lifei clicked his tongue. "Looks like nobody's bothered with these folks. Poor while alive, and even after death, they still can't rest in peace... pathetic."
"It's not just about poverty."
Wang Daoxuan shook his head. "Plenty of wealthy families do this too."
Li Yan frowned. "Why?"
Wang Daoxuan let out a small chuckle. "They want to find the perfect feng shui burial spot, so their ancestors can bless their descendants. But good sites are rare. Some rich families have kept coffins unburied for over a decade."
"That's wicked!" Sha Lifei cursed. "Unfilial brats—letting their elders suffer wind and sun just for wealth. Don't they fear retribution?"
Wang Daoxuan sighed as well. "The imperial court has tried banning this again and again, but even the nobles on court do it. The rich follow their lead, and eventually even commoners imitate it."
The two began asking questions as he spoke.
"Daoist, does feng shui really work?"
"Of course it does. Burial in a spiritual leyline—where qi gathers—can bless descendants. But over generations, the bloodline thins, and the effect fades. Even the best burial site only blesses about three generations."
"But a hundred years is enough to build a prosperous family. That's why many feng shui masters travel the land looking for auspicious sites, which can fetch a high price once found."
"But all that… is just petty ambition."
"Look at royal clans and great families—how many haven't spent vast sums and manpower to find good sites? Yet under the tides of the mortal world, all turn to dust in the end."
"Take the Zhou family—after Zhou Monkey's mother passed, they hired a top master from the Jiang School in Ganzhou to find a blessed site. The funeral was lavish, but that was only two or three years ago."
"But if one's virtue doesn't match their position, even the best feng shui is useless…"
As the three talked, they neared the Yizhuang.
Being Xianyang's main Yizhuang, the estate covered a vast area. But due to its age, it appeared rundown, with some earthen walls even partially collapsed.
Li Yan had grown cautious—whenever he approached such places, he would first activate his Yang Tactic, heightening his sense of smell to detect anomalies.
Instantly, a surge of odors flooded his nose.
His face twisted in discomfort—he nearly stumbled from the stench.
Corpses from different eras released a mix of putrid scents that overwhelmed him.
Seeing his reaction, Wang Daoxuan smiled, "Xianyang Yizhuang is under constant watch. The City God Temple also sends people regularly for rites, cleansing evil and yin energy. Nothing wicked would dare act up here."
"But in more remote Yizhuang, strange occurrences are common. Only cultivators of the mystic path can keep things in check…"
As they spoke, the trio entered the Yizhuang.
Thanks to Li Yan's advance notice and Sha Lifei's generous silver, Wu Laosi's coffin had been properly cared for—stored in a sheltered place, untouched by wind or sun.
Wang Daoxuan had also bought offerings on the way. After each of them lit incense, they spoke with the old caretaker to arrange the coffin's transfer date, and then prepared to leave.
But just as they exited, Li Yan suddenly froze.
Whipping his head around, he spotted, deep in the woods to the left—a figure drenched in blood, pierced by chains, slowly lifting a hand to point at a certain direction.
It was exactly the same as what he had seen in his dream!
A shiver ran through him. He gripped his blade and activated his Yang Tactic.
Yet—he smelled nothing unusual.
In the blink of an eye, the figure vanished.
"What is it?" Sha Lifei asked, concerned.
Li Yan's expression darkened. "I think… something unclean has latched onto me."
He then explained his dream and what he had just witnessed.
"You're seeing things!" Sha Lifei shook his head. "I didn't see anything. Neither did the Daoist. And you didn't smell anything either."
"No… this might be something else."
Wang Daoxuan's brow furrowed. "What you described… I've read about it in the records."
"It's likely… a Wandering Master of the Cold Altar."
…
"Here, this is it."
Back at the Wendaoguan, Wang Daoxuan searched for a long time before pulling out a tattered ancient tome and pointing to a page.
It read: During the rise of Daxing, when the Golden Horde invaded from the south, I dreamt of my master even in daylight—greatly unsettled. Later, guided by a wandering Daoist, I learned of the Cold Altar and its roaming masters. I entered Zhongnan Mountain and found a hidden altar in a cave, where I made offerings to Lord Chen and inherited the West Xuan lineage…
Wang Daoxuan patiently explained, "This is a record from our West Xuan lineage—though incomplete. I later consulted Elder Qingyangzi and confirmed the existence of the Cold Altar Wanderers."
"You've encountered Cold Altar phantoms before, but a Wandering Master is slightly different. When powerful cultivators die without disciples to inherit their legacy, they may perform a ritual to become a wandering spirit—seeking a worthy successor."
"This is what people call a celestial fate. During the chaotic end of the Tang Dynasty, as demonic forces rose and Daoism declined, many lineages vanished. Cold Altar Wanderers became more common, and stories of immortals passing down teachings in dreams spread widely…"
Li Yan frowned. "Is it dangerous?"
Wang Daoxuan considered this. "According to Elder Qingyangzi, if you follow its guidance and reach the Cold Altar, and decline the legacy, the lineage ends there—it won't bother you again."
"But this depends on fate. Have you experienced anything strange lately?"
"Strange? That's an understatement…"
Li Yan sighed, showing the contract mark on his palm, and recounted the cave encounter and Luo Mingzi's warning.
"Then this fits perfectly."
Wang Daoxuan said seriously, "Didn't Luo Mingzi say to first uncover the root cause? Perhaps by following the Cold Altar Wanderer, we can find the source."
…
In the following days, the Cold Altar Wanderer appeared often.
Li Yan found it tiresome, but eventually figured out its pattern.
It appeared in dreams from time to time—he could avoid it by simply maintaining awareness. But when it showed up in broad daylight, no matter the location, it always pointed south.
And south… was where the Qinling Mountains lay.
Fortunately, as Wang Daoxuan said, the spirit never did anything beyond pointing. Over time, Li Yan grew used to it and stopped worrying.
Naturally, he also made new plans.
After returning Wu Laosi's body to his hometown, he would head into the Qinling Mountains.
If this truly was an opportunity, it might offer him a better foundation when building his future sect.
Just like that, the days passed until the ninth day of the ninth month.
The Double Ninth Festival. Nine-nine returns to one. Auspicious and prosperous.
Since ancient times, this day had been marked by traditions of climbing heights, praying to deities and ancestors, and enjoying festive banquets. In some regions, people even held ceremonies to thank the heavens for a bountiful harvest.
Today was also the day they had arranged with Luo Mingzi to attend the mountain god's investiture ceremony at the mass grave site, so they all woke early to prepare.
Before dawn, a knock sounded at the door.
Li Yan opened it to find their neighbor, Granny Liu.
She carried a bamboo basket filled with a dozen persimmons, sticky rice cakes, and a small bottle of wine—all neatly arranged and beautiful to look at.
"Little Brother Li, it's Double Ninth today. I figured you boys probably didn't prepare anything." Granny Liu smiled, handing him the basket. "Homemade. Give it a try."
"You're too kind, Granny."
Before Li Yan could respond, Sha Lifei snatched the basket, stuffed a rice cake into his mouth, and mumbled, "Delicious! Granny, your cooking's great."
"You little rascal!"
Granny Liu's face darkened immediately.
Sha Lifei just chuckled, then rushed inside to fetch a lotus-wrapped roasted chicken. "Granny, don't be mad. Wishing you health and happiness."
She accepted the gift, her mood improving. Then, seeing how neatly dressed they were, she asked, "All dressed up—off to climb high places?"
Without waiting for an answer, she hurried back home and returned with three branches of zhuyu—green leaves and fiery red berries. Handing them to Li Yan, she said, "You're all men. Don't know anything. How can you go climbing without zhuyu? No women in the house really shows."
"True, true," Sha Lifei nodded perfunctorily. "Granny Liu, we're on a tight schedule—gotta go!"
With that, he dragged Li Yan and Wang Daoxuan out the door.
"Hey, hey!" Granny Liu tried to stop them, stomping her feet in frustration. "You bald scoundrel!"
After leaving Xianyang City on horseback, Sha Lifei laughed, "That kind of food basket is usually prepared by a mother-in-law for her son-in-law. Looks like Granny Liu wants you as her son-in-law."
Li Yan froze, glancing at the silent, smiling Wang Daoxuan. Remembering Granny Liu's daughter's face, a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He cupped his hands, "Thank you, Uncle Sha, for saving me."
"As long as you understand!" Sha Lifei burst out laughing, splitting the zhuyu branches among them. They tucked them into their collars and rode off toward the mass grave…
*(End of Chapter)*