Chapter Sixty-Seven: Paper Cut Lanterns and a Midnight Hunt for Demons

Dusk faded quickly. The county constable and his men had commandeered a local farmer’s house, and everyone was resting inside. Xu Wenshan, unable to sit due to his injuries, found a bamboo mat and lay on his stomach. Xu Jing sat alone in a corner of the room, lost in her thoughts.

Lu Wuji was brimming with excitement. He had confirmed that their foe was a demon of power equivalent to the “Core Formation” stage. He had also learned the whereabouts of the “beautiful young lady,” deducing she was likely hiding in the northern mountains. Now, everything was in place—except for the pawns.

The first troublesome detail was that many mortals might die.

The Immortal Alliance was a source of anguish for cultivators. From those at the Great Ascension stage down to the Qi Refining novices, it governed every aspect of a cultivator’s life, and its rules were as numerous as the hairs on one’s head.

The Alliance required every cultivator to wear a Shadow Crystal.

The Shadow Crystal was a sophisticated magical tool, integrating functions like communication, positioning, and image recording, all to aid a cultivator’s practice.

At the same time, however, it monitored all their actions. Should violence or bloodshed occur nearby, the Shadow Crystal would record everything. If the footage revealed any violation of the rules, the cultivator would be punished.

Most cultivators affiliated with sects had tasted the Alliance’s penalties. The experience was so bitter that once was enough to instill a lifelong caution.

Sometimes, Lu Wuji couldn’t help but wonder if the Immortal Alliance was established for the benefit of cultivators or mortals.

He, too, had been punished before, which made him exceedingly careful in all his dealings. Yet, unlike most cultivators, he hadn’t, in response to the Alliance’s strictures, grown especially compassionate toward mortals or sought to be one with them. Instead, he had learned to exploit the rules.

Cultivators could not kill mortals—but what if mortals killed mortals?

Mortals could perish at the hands of corrupt officials or fall victim to demons and monsters—as long as they didn’t die by his own hand, all was well.

Such was his understanding of the rules. This understanding allowed his cultivation to progress more rapidly than his peers’.

Even if the lives of these mortals increased his chance of survival by only a fraction of a percent, he would not hesitate to let them die.

This demon was roughly as strong as a Core Formation cultivator, while Lu Wuji himself was only at the Foundation Establishment stage. He was confident in his ability to challenge those beyond his level, but caution compelled him to conserve every shred of spiritual power.

He gathered everyone and announced that they would be hunting the demon under cover of night.

“Master Daoist, my men are all exhausted,” the county constable said tactfully. “Don’t misunderstand me—I would follow you anywhere to hunt this monster, it’s just that I fear those lazy yamen runners might resist.”

“If we don’t act tonight,” Lu Wuji replied, “and the demon discovers we’ve been investigating, it’ll be alarmed and much harder to catch.”

Seeing the constable still hesitant, Lu Wuji drew a small bottle from his pouch, removed a single pill, and handed it over. “This is a Life-Nourishing Pill. Take it, and you’ll strengthen your body and prolong your life. Lead your men tonight, and it’s yours as a reward.”

The constable’s eyes lit up. For mortals, seeking immortality was their greatest wish—what could be more precious than such a fate? He immediately knelt to express his gratitude.

In truth, the Life-Nourishing Pill was merely a supplement cultivators used for fasting. Other than sating hunger and restoring vigor, it had no miraculous effects.

The constable managed to rally his men with a mix of threats and promises. Lu Wuji then produced a sheet of white paper, cut it into a perfect circle with scissors, and in an instant, the paper gleamed with white light.

He made several more such circles, filling the room with a gentle radiance. The mortals stared, wide-eyed, marveling at this magical display.

The Daoist handed the paper lanterns to the yamen runners. “It’s too dark outside. I’ve crafted these lights with the art of paper-cutting for you. Assign several men to carry them.”

The runners held the glowing circles as if they were precious crystal goblets, terrified of dropping them.

Next, the Daoist took out a stack of talisman papers, quickly inscribed a dozen or so, and ordered everyone to line up.

Uncertain but obedient, the mortals formed a row. The Daoist raised the talismans. “With these, I’ll arrange a ‘Yang Spirit Demon-Banishing Formation.’ This formation will greatly enhance our resistance to evil. I need you in a line to assess your innate qualities and see who is suited to serve as the formation’s keystones.”

The Yang Spirit Demon-Banishing Formation was a unique exorcism array of the Myriad Laws Sect. It greatly enhanced the exorcism and truth-seeing abilities of the formation’s core. Its advantage was that it could be anchored with living bodies—simply attach a talisman to a person at a key point, and as long as those individuals survived, the formation would hold.

Most critical were the formation’s two keystones—the Yin and Yang positions. The most yin, cold-natured person, and the most yang, robust-natured person in the group had to be found for the array to reach its full potential.

To Lu Wuji’s annoyance, the coldest constitution in the room belonged to Xu Cong, and the most yang to Xu Jing.

Xu Jing was acceptable, but his instincts screamed that Xu Cong was dangerous.

Lu Wuji fixed a penetrating gaze on “Xu Cong,” making Xu Wenshan’s skin crawl. “What are you staring at?” he muttered.

Lu Wuji sneered. How ridiculous, he thought, to be wary of a mere mortal. He raised his hand and slapped a talisman onto Xu Wenshan’s back.

Once the talismans were in place, Lu Wuji taught them the formation—the stance for the yin and yang keystones, and the movements for the rest. By the time everything was ready, it was deep into the night, and the group finally set out.

The Daoist’s lights were tied with fine cords and carried by the yamen runners, looking for all the world like ghostly lanterns drifting through the air. In the darkness, the surrounding mountains took on unfamiliar shapes, unsettling everyone.

Suddenly, Xu Wenshan spoke up. “Doesn’t it seem awfully quiet around here?”

A chill ran through the group. Only now did they realize that even the insects had stopped chirping.

“Don’t panic,” Lu Wuji said coldly. “Keep moving.”

They pressed on. Abruptly, a sigh sounded behind them—clear and distinct in the stillness of the night.

“Who just sighed behind me?” one of the runners whispered.

“Don’t look back!” Lu Wuji barked.

Everyone froze.

“Do not look back. The formation protects us; the demon cannot harm us. But if you turn around, you’ll step out of the formation,” Lu Wuji enunciated firmly.

The runner swallowed hard and nodded. Lu Wuji said softly, “Keep moving.” The group shuffled forward again, their steps now lighter and more tentative.

“Xu Wenshan, come look at me…”

Out of nowhere, a voice whispered right behind Xu Wenshan, so close it seemed to brush his neck with every syllable. He could even feel the speaker’s breath warm against his skin.