Chapter 114 – Strange Dream

Wei Yang felt as if he were flying. The howling night wind whipped against his face, but he didn’t feel any pain. Instead, there was a sense of weightlessness from the high-speed movement. After a while, he realized his feet were still on the ground, but each step covered an astonishing distance, making it feel less like running and more like gliding. Beneath him was a dirt path through the countryside, flanked by cultivated fields sparsely planted with sorghum. The sorghum stalks, already taller than a person, had begun to form ears, but the grains were not yet full, making the thin stalks appear even more frail.

He had definitely never seen this scene before. Where was this? What was he doing here? Wei Yang felt a void in his mind, but his body seemed to have a will of its own, continuing to rush forward without pause. After rounding the last field, his vision suddenly opened up, and a massive manor appeared before him.

It was clearly not something from the modern era. The manor covered a vast area, its walls built entirely of brick and stone. The towering walls blocked any outsider’s view, and the wooden gate was more than twice the height of a person, surrounded by a shallow moat. It looked like a simple castle, though many parts were in disrepair, giving it a strange, dilapidated feel. Such a manor could have housed an entire clan in ancient times, and it was the architectural style favored by the gentry and nobility during periods of war.

But why was he here? Before Wei Yang could figure it out, his gliding steps suddenly stopped. His hands, seemingly of their own accord, reached into a pouch hanging at his waist and pulled out something, which he thrust into the dirt in front of him. The object looked familiar—a chicken bone, but much longer than usual, likely from some large bird. The action was also familiar to him: this was the act of setting up a formation, specifically one utilizing the Seven Passes.

It felt as if he had been split into two. Wei Yang watched in confusion as he used the elongated chicken bone and Dead Jade to set up a formation around the manor’s walls. Then, he removed a bone bracelet from his wrist. It was a simple chain made of three finger bones strung on a thin leather cord, resembling a pale, skeletal finger wrapped around his wrist. It looked somewhat terrifying yet oddly intimate. Wei Yang was dazed. Wasn’t this the Bone Formation he wore? Why did it suddenly appear here?

Then, something chilling emerged. It felt like the fine scales of a snake sliding over his spine, carrying an icy, venomous malice. A light burst from the Bone Formation, a crimson glow like blood. The light streaked into the manor like a falling star, and the chicken bones and Dead Jade on the ground reacted in a chain reaction. Dark clouds gathered overhead, and thick black mist spread out, intertwining and enveloping the manor.

In what seemed like mere seconds, everything fell silent. Not the peace of the night, but a complete, lifeless silence, as if the black and red light had crushed everything, leaving no sound. Wei Yang’s heart clenched. What had just happened? He—or rather, the person standing here—had used the Bone Formation to annihilate an entire manor?

Where was the heavenly retribution? The backlash? Wei Yang could hardly believe what he was seeing. This defied everything he knew and understood. Yet his feet moved again, stepping over the narrow moat and pushing open the massive wooden gate. Inside, several bodies lay scattered, likely the night guards. Their faces were twisted, and blood oozed from their orifices. Further ahead, on the streets and inside the houses, wherever he walked, the same scene repeated. Even the rats hiding in the cellars and the poultry in the yards had all died without exception.

He had never heard of such a formation, let alone imagined that the Bone Formation could be used this way. Yet everything before him felt so real, as if he had witnessed it firsthand. Wei Yang suddenly felt afraid. Was this the true purpose of the Bone Formation? But why kill them? Who was the one using the Bone Formation?

With a creak, the door to a side courtyard opened. He walked into a room that looked like a bedroom. In the depths of the spacious inner hall was a simple canopy bed, on which lay a middle-aged man. He was the only person in the entire manor who had managed to act before death, one hand reaching for a wooden sword by the pillow. But he hadn’t had time to use it before the formation’s power took his life. His face was contorted in a grimace, but when Wei Yang saw him, his own face twitched, as if he were smiling. Then, he found himself bending over, holding a Bone Formation close to the man’s face and saying something. The corpse twitched, and a black shadow emerged from the body, drawn into the Bone Formation.

It was like a remnant of a soul. For some reason, Wei Yang’s mind was filled with things he shouldn’t know. Yet in this eerie bedroom, the feeling brought no joy—only terror. Looking at the manor where not even a dog or chicken had been spared, and at the corpse that had its soul extracted even in death, Wei Yang felt as if his head would split open. He struggled, trying to break free from this body’s control. But then, the Bone Formation in his hand suddenly emitted a light, a pale glow that illuminated the room.

Wei Yang froze. Not far from him was a small bronze mirror. Its surface had fogged, but it still reflected a figure—a man who looked young but had withered white hair. Wei Yang wanted to see more clearly, but the man’s eyes also fell on the mirror, as if he had noticed Wei Yang’s presence. The man smiled and raised a finger, pointing into the air…

With a crisp snap, the talisman Zhang Xiuqi was drawing exploded again. However, he didn’t even glance at it. Instead, he abruptly stood and rushed to the small bed nearby. Just moments ago, Wei Yang’s body had suddenly started trembling, and a faint trickle of blood had seeped from his nose. He was only sleeping—how could something like this happen?

A feeling of panic mixed with fear rose in Zhang Xiuqi’s chest. He dashed over and immediately slapped a Calming Talisman on Wei Yang’s forehead. But before the yellow talisman could touch his skin, it shattered. This was a Calming Talisman, the most neutral and harmless of all talismans, one that no one should have a negative reaction to!

As the talisman shattered, Zhang Xiuqi noticed the Bone Formation hanging around Wei Yang’s neck was glowing with a faint white light. He hesitated for only a moment before decisively grabbing the leather cord. With a snap, the cord broke, and the Bone Formation fell to the ground. Wei Yang’s body trembled slightly, and his eyes opened.

Startled awake from the dream, Wei Yang saw the Little Celestial Master standing before him, his usually icy expression cracked. Wei Yang was momentarily stunned. After a few seconds, he called out, “Brother Qi,” and was about to ask why he was standing by the bed when Zhang Xiuqi spoke first, “You had a dream?”

“Huh?” The dream immediately flooded back into Wei Yang’s mind. He frowned, feeling uneasy. “Yeah, I had a nightmare. It felt… strange.”

“What happened in the dream? Was it related to the Bone Formation?” Hearing the word “nightmare,” Zhang Xiuqi’s expression darkened further, a hint of anger flickering in his eyes.

Wei Yang blinked, surprised at how accurate the guess was. “It did have something to do with it. I dreamed that someone used the Bone Formation to kill a lot of people. It seemed like something from ancient times. Did I say something in my sleep?”

Unable to figure out why Brother Qi was so upset, Wei Yang cautiously asked. But Zhang Xiuqi didn’t answer. Instead, he bent down, picked up the Bone Formation from the floor, and pocketed it. Then, he said coldly, “I’ll call my uncle. Stay here for now.”

After saying this, he frowned slightly and reached out to wipe something from Wei Yang’s lips before turning and walking out of the room. His finger was cold, carrying the scent of cinnabar and herbs. As the rough pad of his finger brushed against Wei Yang’s skin, Wei Yang’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest. After all, this was the closest they’d been in days. Since losing his memories, Brother Qi had deliberately kept his distance, and with Master Zeng watching over them, it was almost unbearable.

Why the sudden change today? After standing there dumbfounded for a while, Wei Yang finally remembered to touch his nose. When he pulled his hand away, he saw a faint smear of blood on his finger. Had Brother Qi just wiped away his nosebleed? Wei Yang couldn’t help but grin. The action had been so instinctive—had all his training paid off?

After laughing to himself for a while, he finally regained his wits and remembered the source of the nosebleed. Had he really been bleeding in his sleep? And the Bone Formation around his neck had been confiscated by Zhang Xiuqi. Something must have happened that he wasn’t aware of. Thinking about it, the dream must have been truly strange. Was the Bone Formation really that sinister?

Feeling uneasy, Wei Yang got out of bed. Since he’d been told not to wander, he obediently sat on the bed and waited. A few minutes later, Zhang Xiuqi returned. Seeing Wei Yang, he said directly, “My uncle will be back in half an hour. He’ll want to ask you about the details.” Without waiting for Wei Yang’s response, he sat back down at the table and continued drawing talismans.

Seeing him dive back into work so quickly, Wei Yang frowned. Something felt off. Even when he’d been lacking his Heavenly Soul and had to draw Soul Stabilizing Talismans every day, the Little Celestial Master hadn’t been this diligent. After all, these were proper Daoist talismans. They consumed a lot of energy, and some even required the use of vital essence—they weren’t something that could be mass-produced casually. But looking at the finished talismans on the table, there were at least a dozen. How long had he been asleep? Two or three hours? Producing a dozen high-level talismans in that time? Even the most basic Calming Talismans or Soothing Talismans shouldn’t be so easy to produce.

Since the biggest problem had already been solved, why was Brother Qi still working so hard? Had something else happened that he wasn’t aware of? Though he was puzzled, Wei Yang didn’t show it. Clearly, Brother Qi wasn’t in the mood to talk. Instead of pushing him, it would be better to ask Master Zeng later.

And so, one person drew talismans while the other sat idly by. Lao Ye even came by for a visit, but Wei Yang politely “persuaded” him to leave. Nearly an hour later, Zeng Jingxuan finally returned.

“You dreamed of someone using the Bone Formation? And wiping out an entire manor? Tell me everything.” Zeng Jingxuan didn’t even sit down to catch his breath. He got straight to the point, his expression extremely serious.

Understanding that this matter was related to him as well, Wei Yang didn’t delay. He quickly recounted every detail of the dream. Normally, dreams tend to fade and become fragmented upon waking, but this time, Wei Yang not only remembered everything but could even recall finer details.

After briefly describing what happened, he added, “The chicken bones used in the formation were at least fourteen or fifteen in number, and there were nine pieces of Dead Jade. I also felt like it was the final part of a larger formation. As for their clothes, I’ve studied antiques a bit. The clothing and architecture seemed to have a transitional style between the Tang and Song dynasties. The walls were also severely decayed, so it must have been during a time of war.”

Zeng Jingxuan sighed softly. “Those weren’t chicken bones. They were Owl Thorns, usually made from the wing bones of owls. From the length you described, they were likely from a rare giant eagle owl. Formations are divided into Yin and Yang. Using chicken bones creates a Yang Formation, which is used to dispel evil. Using Owl Thorns creates a Yin Formation, which enhances malevolent energy and connects to the ghostly realm.”

Hearing this explanation, Wei Yang couldn’t help but frown. Whether it was chicken bones or Owl Thorns wasn’t the main point of the dream. Was Master Zeng avoiding the key issue? A thought suddenly struck Wei Yang, and he blurted out, “You know about this, don’t you?”

Whether it was mentioning that the formation was incomplete or the era of the clothing, Zeng Jingxuan hadn’t shown the slightest surprise. It wasn’t because he was insensitive to these details—it was because he had heard about this before.

With a bitter smile, Zeng Jingxuan stopped hiding it. “That wasn’t a manor. It was a Daoist temple, a branch of the Leng Family in Jiangxi. This incident had a significant impact at the time. It was because of this case that Sun Yunhe was branded as an enemy of the Daoist world.”

“Sun Yunhe did that?” Wei Yang’s eyes widened in shock. “Did the Bone Formation fall into his hands at some point? But the manuscript didn’t mention that. He even lamented that he couldn’t fully utilize the power of the Bone Formation.”

“That manuscript was written too early. Sun Yunhe probably hadn’t yet betrayed the Mao Mountain Sect at that time. As for what happened afterward, it’s all shrouded in mystery. No one knows the details. But this massacre did shock the entire Daoist world. What was even more terrifying was that it wasn’t an isolated incident. Over the course of a decade, Sun Yunhe wiped out three families: the Leng Family of Jiangxi, the Cui Family of Huaiyin, and the Du Family of Shangling. He left no survivors. That’s thousands of lives.”

Wei Yang immediately broke out in a cold sweat. He hadn’t expected the Bone Formation to have such a previous owner, nor that it had been used to kill so many people. No wonder the Soul Doll had been so powerless before it, like a helpless chick.

However, Zeng Jingxuan was thinking even further ahead. “If Sun Yunhe used this item, then there’s probably a reason why the Bone Formation was split apart. Apart from this dream, have you had any other strange dreams?”

Wei Yang hesitated. “Actually, when I was dealing with that fox spirit, I also saw something. There was a man who completely overwhelmed the Fox Immortal. The fox said it wanted to protect the ‘Jiang Family,’ and that’s why the man spared it.”

“The Jiang Family… Did the man who subdued the fox use the Bone Formation?” Zeng Jingxuan immediately pressed.

Wei Yang shook his head. “No Bone Formation. He just used a drop of blood from his fingertip.”

Zeng Jingxuan looked as if he’d expected this and sighed. “The Wu Family’s bloodline was divided into several branches. The Jiang and Yao branches were the purest Wu bloodlines, while the Qi, Ren, and Lu branches were offshoots. However, as dynasties changed, these Wu branches gradually lost their heritage. Some with stronger bloodlines turned to Daoism or used their talents to summon deities, becoming shamans or mediums. But before the Yuan Dynasty, there were records of great Wu sorcerers. Sun Yunhe was once very close to a Jiang sorcerer, and this had a lot to do with his betrayal of the Mao Mountain Sect.”

As he spoke, he gave Wei Yang a meaningful look. “If the Bone Formation was left by a Jiang sorcerer, and you are a direct descendant of that person, then no matter what Sun Yunhe did to the Bone Formation, it shouldn’t harm you.”

Wei Yang caught the implication. “Are you saying that there might be a mark left by Sun Yunhe himself in the Bone Formation?”

“Very likely, and it’s a mark that would only activate when all three pieces are together,” Zeng Jingxuan said with certainty. “So you should still carry the Bone Formation with you. And no matter what you dream about, remember it. It might be closely related to the Bone Formation’s use.”

Wei Yang was almost speechless. He hadn’t expected that dreaming could lead to such a discovery. Though the experience wasn’t pleasant, he wasn’t entirely averse to it. After all, if Sun Yunhe had a great sorcerer by his side and became a master of his craft (albeit not a good person), then perhaps if he could master the Bone Formation, Brother Qi might also benefit.

Thinking this, he suddenly changed the subject. “By the way, Master Zeng, is there something else you’re dealing with? You’ve seemed very busy these past few days.”

Zhang Xiuqi, who had been sitting quietly, immediately looked up, his gaze fixed on his uncle. Noticing the tension in his nephew’s expression, Zeng Jingxuan sighed inwardly but kept his tone neutral. “We’re preparing for something. Although Xiao Qi’s Heavenly Soul has returned, there are still potential enemies to consider. But don’t worry about it. Just focus on resting and recovering your strength.”

This was a standard, non-committal answer, but for once, the little conman didn’t press further. Instead, he smiled and replied, “These past few days, I’ve just been eating and sleeping. I’ll be back to full strength in no time. Don’t worry, Master Zeng. If you need anything, just let me know.”

The subtext was clear, and Zeng Jingxuan nodded with a smile. “Of course.”

Both foxes knew the other was holding something back, but neither chose to address it. Zhang Xiuqi had already lowered his head, seemingly ready to continue drawing talismans. Wei Yang rubbed his nose and stood up. “I’ll go order some food. You two can keep talking.”

As Wei Yang left the room, Zeng Jingxuan turned to Zhang Xiuqi. “Did you mess up another talisman?”

There were two types of talisman failures. One occurred when the formation was nearly complete, resulting in a crisp “snap.” The other happened at the very beginning, producing a soft “hiss.” The former was a mistake even experts could make, while the latter was something only beginners would do. Zhang Xiuqi had been drawing talismans his entire life—it was almost impossible for him to fail at the start.

Zhang Xiuqi didn’t respond. He simply turned the page and picked up his brush, ready to continue. But his uncle had already walked over and grabbed the brush from his hand. “Don’t vent your anger on this. Three Corpses Worms aren’t easy to find. Don’t waste them!”

This stopped Zhang Xiuqi’s struggle. Seeing that his nephew was about to retreat into silence again, Zeng Jingxuan shook his head. “I don’t care what’s going on in your head. For the next few days, you can’t leave Wei Yang’s side. Even if Sun Yunhe wouldn’t harm a true descendant of the Jiang Family, the hidden traps he left aren’t something just anyone can handle. If something goes wrong, you’ll need to help him.”

The response was silence, but Zeng Jingxuan’s lips curled into a faint smile. The look in Zhang Xiuqi’s eyes wasn’t annoyance—it was more like a quiet relief at being given this order. Over the past twenty years, he’d taught his nephew many things, but he’d never taught him how to navigate emotions. The loss of his Heavenly Soul had made it difficult for the boy to process feelings, and this internal struggle was only torturing him.

Releasing the brush, Zeng Jingxuan took out the items he’d brought back and instructed, “Don’t draw any more talismans today. Prepare these herbs first. You can continue tomorrow after you’ve recovered your energy.”

The afternoon passed quickly. Wei Yang remained in his usual half-dead state, washing up and crawling into bed right after dinner. With the “nightmare” incident fresh in mind, Zeng Jingxuan didn’t let Zhang Xiuqi stay up late and sent him off to keep watch. However, when Zhang Xiuqi entered the bedroom, he found a small table lamp still on. On the nightstand was a small silk-wrapped bundle. Pausing for a moment, he walked over and opened the cloth.

Inside were several pieces of broken jade. The jade wasn’t of the best quality, but the craftsmanship was deeply familiar. It was a birthday gift his father had given him as a child, but when he was eight, he’d passed it on to another child. Zhang Xiuqi’s fingers trembled slightly, and he clenched his fist, as if trying to control the unfamiliar emotions surging within him. He didn’t like being controlled by these feelings, but he’d never been able to forget them.

For twenty years, after losing his Heavenly Soul, most of his life had been shrouded in a heavy fog, indistinct and blurred. But in the past two months, it was as if something had cleared the fog, bringing everything into sharp focus. Yet these memories, now so vivid, were tormenting him. For the first time, Zhang Xiuqi understood why his father had left him behind to face the enemies who sought his life.

Some things were more important than one’s own life.

Expressionless, Zhang Xiuqi looked up at the figure sleeping on the bed. Wei Yang was already deep in slumber, clearly having missed the moment of revelation. Zhang Xiuqi’s gaze lingered on the man’s peaceful face for a moment before he reached out and turned off the table lamp. Then, he lay down on the other side of the empty bed, fully clothed.