Chapter 46: Ghost Castle

Early the next morning, Tongren Prefecture.

The horizon was just beginning to pale, and a gentle morning mist draped over the ancient city streets and alleys, as if attempting to conceal some little-known secrets.

Citizens gradually awoke from their slumber, rubbing their sleepy eyes and stepping onto the bluestone paths to begin another day of toil.

However, when a few early-rising townsfolk arrived at the vegetable market, the sight before them made their hearts violently contract, instantly replacing their lingering sleepiness with sheer terror.

Not far away, a pile of bloody human heads was stacked in front of the market. Every single face was chillingly familiar—they belonged to the ruthless and tyrannical Tian family.

Atop this makeshift pyramid of heads stood a flagpole, fluttering with a white silk banner inscribed with chillingly bloody characters: *The killer, Yun Zheng.*

Like a drop of water hitting boiling oil, the news exploded across Tongren Prefecture. Citizens rushed to the scene, their whispers and gasps intertwining:

"The Buddhas have finally opened their eyes! This Tian family has committed countless atrocities, and now they have finally met their retribution!"

"What kind of peerless master has the audacity to shake such a towering tree as the Tian family?"

"Cruel? So what? Only by such means can these local lords be warned not to follow the Tian family's old path!"

Some noticed the name "Yun Zheng." Though they did not understand the whole story, they secretly cheered in their hearts.

The incident soon alerted the authorities, and a squad of yamen guards hurried over to cordon off the scene.

Although the officials had yet to issue a formal verdict, attributing it to bandits or a personal blood feud, many in their hearts preferred to believe that the net of heaven is vast, and though sparse, it lets nothing slip—that this was karmic retribution at work.

***

Outside Tongren Prefecture lay the Tian Fortress.

Built against the mountain and exuding a ghostly aura, this stronghold—dubbed the "Ghost Fortress" by the locals of Tongren—now had its massive gates thrown wide open.

A group of warriors clad in pitch-black robes and wearing bloody skull masks poured out of the gloomy fortress like messengers from the netherworld.

Their footsteps were uniform, exuding a murderous aura rarely found among ordinary martial artists of the jianghu.

Each warrior tightly gripped a bizarrely shaped weapon, little more than a foot and a half long. The tip was carved into the shape of a sharp sword, gleaming with cold light, while the other side was serrated like a saw, inspiring dread in all who beheld them.

An indescribable chill clung to them, making them look like underworld emissaries summoned from the abyss. The peculiar weapons in their hands resembled the fangs of hellish fiends.

簇拥 in the center of the black-robed warriors, a towering figure slowly stepped forward. His black robes snapped in the wind, and upon his bloody skull mask was embedded a black gemstone that seemed to constantly devour the surrounding light. Clearly, he was their leader.

His voice was low and hoarse, resembling the wind along the road to the underworld, carrying endless chill and bitter malice: "The bandit Yun Zheng, who dared to raid the Tian estate, has reached his end. No matter where he hides to the ends of the earth, no matter how cunning he may be, my ghost blades shall sweep like the winds of the netherworld, dragging him into the eternal abyss of the nine springs!"

***

Ghost Blade was the name of these peculiar weapons wielded by the black-robed warriors.

Over the years, when had the Tian family ever suffered such a loss?

Whether through the Tian family's own influence and strength, or through Yang Yinglong—that colossal patron whose power covered the entire Southwest—the Tians had become a malevolent force in Tongren Prefecture that none dared to provoke.

Once, a prefect appointed by the imperial court firmly refused to collude with the Tian family. Within three days, the leader of the Tian Fortress dispatched assassins to silently sever the limbs of the prefect's beloved concubine, turning her into a human swine before discarding her in the courtyard right outside the prefect's bedchamber.

The next morning, upon waking up, the prefect was greeted by the bloody, limbless horror of his beloved concubine. He screamed in terror, subsequently falling into a trance for three days during which he refused a single drop of water or grain of rice.

Meanwhile, that massive protective umbrella, the Yang clan of Bozhou, turned this crystal-clear case into an unsolvable cold case.

From then on, the Tian family acted with even greater impunity. Anyone who provoked them would suffer extreme punishment within three days—either having both hands ruthlessly severed from the shoulders or both legs brutally amputated from the hip joints.

The ghost blades in the hands of the Tian Fortress warriors were truly like instruments of torture wielded by nightshaces, grim and terrifying. Because of this, the Tian Fortress earned its chilling moniker, "Ghost Fortress."

However, what truly inspired despair was a scene that had transpired at Mount Fanjing five years ago.

Five years previously, Yang Yinglong, fresh from his victory over the imperial Ming armies, actually forced Mount Fanjing—which had always opposed the Tian family—to sell half of its monastic lands to the Tians at a rock-bottom price.

Naturally, such behavior provoked the indignation of the monks. Some proposed uniting the monastic community within the mountain to jointly resist this unjust oppression.

On a dark and stormy night, the monks of Mount Fanjing rose up, utilizing the martial arts they had learned to engage in a fierce battle with the Tian warriors. Yet regrettably, despite their valor and skill, they gradually fell into a disadvantage under the relentless onslaught of the Tian fighters.

In the end, the monks of Mount Fanjing failed to withstand the tide-like assault of the Tian warriors. The temple's defenses were breached, and many monks fell in pools of blood. Those monks who managed to survive were paraded through the streets in prison carts by the Tian warriors as if showing off trophies.

Had Mount Fanjing not been bestowed by the Wanli Emperor as the "Paradise of Ultimate Bliss," the "Ancient Buddha Dojo," and the "Ancestral Mountain of All Famous Peaks in the Realm"—which made Yang Yinglong somewhat hesitant—that sacred sanctuary of Mount Fanjing would likely have been reduced to ashes on that very day.

The gloom of the Ghost Fortress had long hung over the skies of Tongren Prefecture, allowing countless demons and monsters to swagger brazenly through prosperous, bustling markets in broad daylight without fear. Even the Buddha's light, which supposedly illuminated all beings, seemed to have lost its former luster.

It had been far too long since the Tian family had encountered any challenger daring to directly defy their majesty.

This leader never imagined that anyone could be so audacious as to burn and slaughter the entire Tian estate right within the borders of Tongren Prefecture.

Right under his nose, their primary stronghold had been reduced to scorched earth. Not a single man, woman, or child of the clan was spared; all were brutally decapitated, and their heads were publicly piled into a monumental display at the vegetable market intersection.

This was undoubtedly a grave provocation to the Tian family, and an utter humiliation to him as the leader of the Tian Fortress.

"Yun Zheng! I have prepared the world's most cruel punishments for you. I swear, I will make you regret ever coming into this world!"

Two days later.

In a restaurant named the Misty Rain Tower located in Luxian County under the jurisdiction of Tongren Prefecture, a distinguished guest was waiting for Yun Zheng.

"The little crows in the Ghost Fortress are caw-cawing noisily, yet Yun here has come to cure the Eunuch's migraine."

Yun Zheng muttered to himself as he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Luxian was not a major county, but the private chamber in the Misty Rain Tower was quite exquisite. The walls were adorned with calligraphy and paintings by famous masters, and the window lattices were inlaid with translucent colored glass.

A languid figure reclined on a rattan chair. A half-draped fur robe concealed skin that rivaled frost and snow, with a swan-like neck that was slender and smooth. A pair of crescent-like jade feet lifted leisurely, the toes adorned with a peony-red silk shoe from Yuezhou, and a pearl the size of a longan hung from the shoe's tip, casting a dazzling, luminous glow.

The figure flashed a brilliant smile, a congenital allure that seemed to seep right into one's bones.

"Is this honorable person Commander Yun, or Thousand-户 Yun of the Brocade Guard? In truth, it matters little. Eunuch Yang admires young heroes like you, so youthful, handsome, and fiercely capable..."

As he spoke, the figure gently pinched the air with jade-like fingers, mimicking the plucking of a flower. Instantly, the private chamber seemed to fill with the ambiance of fluttering peach blossoms.

Had it been any ordinary man, his soul would have already been captured, leaving him dizzy and infatuated.

Yet Yun Zheng only felt goosebumps erupt all over the back of his neck.

"I hear your excellency prefers to be called Lady Sima."

Yun Zheng paused, then added, "But this subordinate feels it is much more appropriate to call you Eunuch Sima."

During the Ming and Qing dynasties, a fondness for male beauty was particularly pronounced—rivaling even ancient Greece and Warring States-era Japan.

If nothing else, the reigning Wanli Emperor was famously fond of handsome young eunuchs, dressing them as women to amuse his imperial eyes. One could only say that when men became flamboyant, women had no room left to shine. The prominent eunuchs heavily favored by Emperor Wanli—such as Yang Rong, Gao Zhun, and Liang Yong—had likely risen through this very path.

Yet Yun Zheng was clearly not going to play along with this routine.

*(What in the world is this nonsense?)*

He lowered his gaze slightly, quickly concealing the fleeting disgust in his eyes. At the same time, the corners of his mouth twitched downward, as if a pungent, decaying stench had suddenly drifted into his nostrils.

Eunuch Yang Rong—currently a figure of blazing influence in Guizhou, to the point where even the Heavenly King Yang Yinglong sought to become sworn brothers with him—had sent his most delicate and fair-complexioned young eunuch, Sima Nan, to meet him. This seemingly showed immense regard for the young hero who had dared to slaughter the Tian Fortress.

Yet as a thoroughly heterosexual man, Yun Zheng felt as though needles were pricking his back and he had been plunged into an ice cave.

"This subordinate must ask your excellency: can we please speak like a normal person?"

"No matter." Sima Nan waved a hand to wipe the cosmetics from his face and sat up straight. The coquettish allure instantly transformed into a dignified and composed demeanor, though the intensely feminized air drilled deep into his bones from childhood training remained impossible to shake off.