Chapter 429: Chapter 54: Travelers on the Road with Broken Spirits
Looking across the Fire Spirit Hall, many Sword Cultivators shared similar thoughts as Li Mo, but they had no concept of the Clear and Bright Festival.
After all, the Clear and Bright Festival was simply too distant in memory.
Ancestral rituals?
Many Sword Cultivators had no notion of ancestral worship. After attaining immortality, the world’s festivals had long lost the purity they held eight thousand years ago.
Fortunately, some shops would hang signs related to the Clear and Bright Festival.
The approach was merely to force the Sword Ghosts into the shallow layers of the Copper Mirror. Unable to kill them, they were forcibly driven into the deeper layers.
Li Mo, however, was more meticulous, as he had encountered the Clear and Bright Festival before.
By examining the names of the shops, he could discern whether they were connected to the festival. In total, he identified four scattered shops related to it.
While the Sword Cultivators were busy preparing for the impending disaster, none had time to spy on Li Mo anymore.
Li Mo and Ye Zhuo Daoist strolled through the streets and alleys.
Instead of heading to the shops, they walked along the Beili Riverbank, attending to the wildly growing willow trees.
"The Clear and Bright Festival involves ancestor worship, but what does it have to do with willow trees?"
Ye Zhuo Daoist’s Blood Soul burrowed into the soil, uprooting the willow trees entirely.
Li Mo did not assist Ye Zhuo Daoist, focusing instead on controlling the scattered cancer cells, removing every trace of the willow trees.
"Planting willows is a custom for warding off evil and ensuring safety. Even if I explained, you wouldn’t understand."
"It’s just precautionary. After all, the riverbank is too close to the tavern. A single mistake could plunge us into trouble."
Ye Zhuo Daoist sighed, only to hear Li Mo say, "The Fire Spirit Hall is fraught with crises. Without proper vestments for protection, one is bound to suffer grave injuries when danger strikes."
"Hiss..."
Ye Zhuo Daoist immediately felt his back stop aching and his legs stop hurting, smiling as he briskly carried on with the labor.
The willow trees on the surface were all withered, but things were entirely different in the first layer of the Copper Mirror.
Through his Cave God’s Eye, Li Mo observed tender buds sprouting on the willow branches, while the roots glimmered faintly with traces of blood.
Who would believe there was nothing suspicious about this?
They cleared nearly a thousand willow trees along the Beili Riverbank but ignored the rest of the area.
On one hand, their energy was truly limited. On the other hand, even if they did a good deed, no one would appreciate it.
The Sword Cultivators were scattered across different districts precisely because mutual trust was impossible. Li Mo also had no interest in being a savior.
Soon, the two of them arrived at the "Incense Candle Pavilion" by the Beili Riverbank.
The Incense Candle Pavilion not only sold candles but also paper money, the latter being unmistakably tied to the Clear and Bright Festival.
It must be said that Li Mo’s luck was indeed remarkable.
The Beili Riverbank seemed to have been one of the liveliest districts in the town, while shops related to funerals were generally tucked away in secluded corners.
For instance, on Hexing Road just a kilometer away, shops selling paper dolls and coffins were numerous.
Li Mo occasionally sensed chaotic fluctuations of spiritual power on Hexing Street, clearly leaving Taishan Yan overwhelmed.
Before long.
Li Mo and Ye Zhuo Daoist arrived at the Incense Candle Pavilion and walked straight into the shop.
Since the Sword Ghost inside had not yet erupted into violence, the shop was still relatively safe for the time being.
Following his habit, Li Mo surveyed the premises for any ledgers containing recorded notes, but unfortunately, the shopkeeper must have been illiterate during his lifetime.
Small-scale businesses did not require bookkeeping. In the candle-making workshop, red and white candles were stacked everywhere, with buckets of solidified wax tucked away in a corner, as if they had just been boiled.
"Senior Brother, I keep feeling uneasy."
Ye Zhuo Daoist picked up a small wax cat from the table, its back carved with the name "Xiangzhi."
Li Mo explained, "Xiangzhi is likely a nickname. The shopkeeper probably had a young daughter."
Swallowing hard, Ye Zhuo Daoist whispered, "Why do I feel like mortals used to live in the Fire Spirit Hall? It doesn’t seem like the illusions caused by Night Patrol Deities’ taboo."
"Perhaps."
Li Mo tossed a fake magical vestment robe propped under the table leg to Ye Zhuo Daoist. The robe resembled Daluo Heaven, covered in human skin crowded with eye-like pupils.
"Take this fake magical treasure of Little Luotian for refining."
The Four Seas Commerce once auctioned off Little Luotian, but it failed to sell.
Since it was crafted during Li Mo’s practice, the vestment had a flaw—eroding cultivators—but Ye Zhuo Daoist’s Taiyi Sword Body was perfect for countering this defect.
As Li Mo stroked his chin, he thought to himself, "Using Ye Zhuo to test magic artifacts isn’t a bad idea; at the very least, I’ve gained insights for optimizing the Blood Soul structure."
"Heh heh heh."
"If Bai Shuo woke up and saw me decked out like this, his mental realm would surely destabilize."
Ye Zhuo Daoist’s worries vanished instantly. Having a resourceful senior brother like this, he suddenly felt even fake magical treasures were common.
With a simple refinement, Ye Zhuo Daoist’s appearance became utterly devil-like.
A human skin vestment, intestines in hand, a black coffin slung over his back, and a bone-crafted gourd at his waist.
Li Mo didn’t find him unsightly, and Ye Zhuo Daoist was brimming with pride.
The two used conventional methods to lure the Sword Ghost to the first layer, employing bait like flesh and Corpse Wine, only to find the Sword Ghost remained utterly indifferent.
"Small Night Patrol spectral tools like this are easy to guess—likely tied to the candles somehow. But Sword Ghosts deeper in the Copper Mirror aren’t necessarily willing to show themselves."
Li Mo smiled faintly and said, "I have an idea."
"Senior Brother, just say the word—be it mountains of knives or seas of flames, I’ll risk my life a thou—"
Before Ye Zhuo Daoist could finish, he noticed Li Mo pulling out a water jar.
"My spirit is robust; even if I try to conceal it, it’s like a blazing torch in the dark night. You’ll have to explore the first layer alone."
Ye Zhuo Daoist gave a bitter smile. Li Mo continued, "The spectral tool is undoubtedly among the pile of candles. Both of us will light them together and call out Xiangzhi’s name to see if they react."
"Once the candles burn out, you’ll naturally return to the mortal realm. If the Sword Ghost tries to pull you into the deeper layer, I’ll seize the opportunity and strike."
Ye Zhuo Daoist nodded, climbed into the water jar without hesitation, and disappeared from the mortal realm.
Crack.
The jar developed a tiny fissure. Its number of uses clearly exceeded that of the rattle—it seemed to work about ten times.
Through the Da Ai Mi Tian technique, Li Mo could vaguely sense Ye Zhuo Daoist’s presence.
The Illusion Fish Sword left its sheath.
When the candles ignited, faint hints of corpse oil wafted into his nostrils. After his sense of smell adjusted, it felt inexplicably fragrant.
"A mad Yihai Year."
Li Mo closed his eyes and connected with his cancer cells.
Ye Zhuo Daoist, somewhat anxious, lingered in the first layer of the Copper Mirror, faced with an eerie and peculiar environment.
"Xiangzhi, Xiangzhi, don’t be afraid. Xiangzhi is me..."
Walls and floors were coated in thick, crimson wax oil, resembling a woman’s inner chambers.
In front of Ye Zhuo Daoist, each candle was as thick as an arm, and the dripping wax, before solidifying, seemed more like blood.
"Er..."
He sensed something alive brushing against him and discovered a small wax cat the size of his palm.
The wax cat was covered with fingerprints, clearly crafted piece by piece by a little girl. Its comical, misshapen appearance felt oddly endearing.
"Not a Sword Ghost."
"Xiangzhi, Xiangzhi."
The candle flames swayed. Ye Zhuo Daoist promptly stowed all his magical treasures and artifacts, restrained his aura, and shouted even more vigorously.
"Xiangzhi, I’m here." The voice of a little girl rang out around him.
Ye Zhuo Daoist’s heart tightened as he turned to see a crouched figure in the corner, her limbs ending in flames, skin melting away slowly.
"Xiangzhi, I’m here."
The little girl kept repeating herself, instinctively reaching out for Ye Zhuo Daoist.
Just as Li Mo was about to head to the second layer of the Copper Mirror, he saw Ye Zhuo Daoist crouch without hesitation, gently stroking the girl’s head.
"Xiangzhi, let’s go home..."
Ye Zhuo Daoist shook his gourd, and Xiangzhi willingly allowed the artifact to absorb her.
In the blink of an eye, Ye Zhuo Daoist returned to the surface layer. The candles in the shop had burned out entirely, leaving only a single unremarkable white candle in the corner.
Li Mo patted Ye Zhuo Daoist on the shoulder. "Believe it or not, I think Sword Ghosts must have truly existed once. The ebb and flow of ages has left them as mere remnants of the Night Patrol Deities."
He extinguished the white candle and tucked the spectral tool close to his body.
The white candle’s function was peculiar: when lit, it anchored someone to a specific layer of the Copper Mirror. However, the deeper the layer, the faster the candle burned.
With the white candle in hand, Li Mo felt two percent more confident about sealing Mountain River in the future.
The Incense Candle Pavilion didn’t hold them up for long. The two continued toward the next shop, "Xunwu Wine Shop."
In Li Mo’s memories, drinking chrysanthemum wine was a custom during the Clear and Bright Festival in his previous life. He wasn’t entirely sure about this life, but caution was necessary.
The wine shop was messy and unkempt.
Li Mo flipped through a ledger but saw that the shop had ceased operations long ago.
However, a clue surfaced in the neighboring teahouse, where a storyteller had recorded market rumors in his notebook, mentioning the shop opened for half a day monthly.
It wasn’t during the day but at midnight, when the Ghost Gate opened wide.
Li Mo and Ye Zhuo Daoist waited in the shop until midnight, painstakingly brewing wine using stolen recipes unearthed in the shop, finally provoking the true form of a Sword Ghost.
The Sword Ghost bore a human face on a worm-like body, and the spectral tool turned out to be a severed tongue buried behind the building.
Evidently, the spectral tools of small Night Patrol Deities sometimes had little to do with the shop itself. Without knowledge of the Sword Ghost’s past, it was challenging to uncover them.
Based on what the Sword Ghost said, Li Mo guessed that in its older years, its taste buds had dulled, leaving it unable to distinguish Corpse Wine, prompting it to close the shop.
What happened afterward was unknown.
The Sword Ghost merely muttered repeatedly, "You’re not the wine worms that crawled out of my throat. You have no right to drink my wine."
Li Mo found it suspect—the Sword Ghost might have cut out its tongue as its throat became blocked.
Such an absurd notion was the undeniable reflection of the world’s dramatic transformations.
The tongue’s utility was limited; when ingested into the stomach, it facilitated entry into the Copper Mirror. Yet, Li Mo and Ye Zhuo Daoist’s stomachs had long ceased functioning.
The third shop was Unity Hall, a medical hall where mortals secured prescriptions.
Li Mo considered that some mortals might buy mugwort at medical halls before the Clear and Bright Festival.
The first two shops were suspiciously smooth; they spent five full days grappling with Unity Hall, even venturing into the Copper Mirror in vain.
Finally, Li Mo resorted to a far-fetched idea.
Feigning illness using cancer cells, they eventually discovered a mummy-like Sword Ghost whose body exhibited hundreds of disease symptoms.
Fortunately, the Sword Ghost’s taboo was contracting illness, rendering the two nearly immune.
Their gourd collected another spectral tool.
It was a seemingly ordinary herb that added functionality: when squeezed for juice and dripped onto the eyelids, it allowed one to peer into the Copper Mirror. For Li Mo, it was useless.
The final shop left Li Mo uncertain.
"Why a temple? Isn’t the Clear and Bright Festival about honoring ancestors?"
"I don’t know either, but mortals have a saying: during the Clear and Bright Festival, the Road God tours the mortal realm to protect their peace."
Temples were sparse in the Fire Spirit Hall, but Li Mo felt strongly that if immortals and gods were implicated, the temple might conceal secrets about the world’s upheaval.