Chapter 181: Listening to Mountain Ghosts at Night

Chapter 181: Listening to Mountain Ghosts at Night

Wind and rain lashed in waves, the chill heavy and deep.

Gong Qinghong walked slowly along the mist-shrouded mountain stone steps. Though the torrential rain drenched him, a faint smile lingered constantly upon his face.

For he had just casually sown another seed; regardless of the outcome of this ascent, he would at least not return empty-handed.

"The road must be walked step by step; rice must be eaten mouthful by mouthful. Accumulate the little to make the much; trickling streams form the ocean. These people will eventually awaken with a start, wild geese returning to the nest, becoming the wings of my Honghu!"

*Dong!*

At this moment, a clear, melodious chime of a bronze qing pierced the rain curtain, reaching Gong Qinghong's ears.

The smile at the corner of Gong Qinghong's mouth instantly vanished, replaced by a solemn expression. He straightened his posture, cupped his fists, and bowed deeply to the ground.

"Honghu's Gong Qinghong requests an audience with Daoist Yu of the Qingcheng Group."

The moment his words fell, the mist shrouding the path ahead seemed possessed of sentience, parting to the sides to reveal an ancient, elegant rain pavilion at the mountainside.

A scene of profound strangeness appeared before Gong Qinghong.

The wind and rain invading the mountains came to an abrupt halt outside the courtyard, as if encountering a thunder pool, unable to cross even half a step.

Inside the pavilion stood a stone table and stone benches. Wisps of green smoke curled up from a ring-handled bronze censer on the table.

A faint fragrance drifted out, winding its way into Gong Qinghong's nostrils.

Amidst such an immortal scene, Gong Qinghong smelled only a pungent, bloody stench.

The censer was an antique; the incense, musk.

But the fire burning the incense was the people's fat and the people's ointment.

A middle-aged man with skin like congealed fat, a pale face and no beard, sat in the pavilion. He wore an azure Daoist robe, upon the chest of which gold thread embroidered striking small characters.

Qingcheng Group, Yu.

Behind him stood two young men in tight-fitting attire, their hair coiled in Daoist topknots, guarding left and right.

Though the men bore no obvious insignia, the black rings on their fingers betrayed their identities.

Those who could carry a simplified temporary imperial prison at all times could only be active-duty Embroidered Uniform Guards!

"Even planting their own Daoist disciples into the Embroidered Uniform Guards to eat imperial grain—so brazenly fleecing the court's wool. It seems the Yu family's days aren't easy either. No wonder they're racking their brains to drive out the Gu family and find a financial path for themselves."

"Pity, a thousand calculations were ultimately ruined by Li Jun."

Gong Qinghong sneered inwardly, yet his saluting hands did not lower, his expression respectful. "Troubling Daoist Yu to descend the mountain to receive me—Gong Qinghong is overwhelmed with trepidation."

"It is not I descending to receive you. It is that you Honghu people reek of filth, unworthy of ascending the mountain."

Gong Qinghong possessed the bearing of one who lets spittle dry on his face; he did not fly into a rage at Yu Canghai's mockery.

"Regardless, that Daoist Yu could spare time from his busy schedule—Qinghong is already profoundly grateful."

"Still the same thick skin as ever. Does your Honghu Sequence's ritual require one to be shameless to advance?"

Yu Canghai's temper was no different from his flying sword, the 'Scarlet Dragon'—both were explosively volatile.

Seeing the other party remain so aggressively pressing, Gong Qinghong had no intention of retreating further. He clasped his hands behind his back and said coldly, "If Daoist Yu looks down on Honghu so much, why bother descending the mountain to meet today?"

"This Seat is a Baihu of the Chengdu Prefecture Embroidered Uniform Guards; you are rebels wanted by the court. This Seat is here to arrest you, not to meet you."

The moment Yu Canghai's words fell, the two Embroidered Uniform Guards on either side took a heavy step forward simultaneously.

At the same time, the sudden rain blocked outside the pavilion seemed swept by a gale, slapping against Gong Qinghong's cheeks.

Gong Qinghong's expression did not change, his bearing neither humble nor arrogant. "You are a Baihu, true. But Honghu are not bandits."

"Bandits or not, no explanation needed. Once inside the imperial prison, you will naturally confess obediently."

Yu Canghai flicked a finger; a line of fire suddenly manifested in the rain.

The resonant clang of a sword actually drowned out the rumbling rain at this moment.

"Petty man, I have not killed or set fire, yet I am to be thrown into the imperial prison. Those ruffians who wield violence run free—what official's logic is this?!"

Gong Qinghong's voice was like a great bell, echoing through the mountain path.

*Clang!*

The fire line shot forth, trailing evaporated water vapor in its wake, its momentum terrifying!

"Watching one's own son die unjustly, yet unable to avenge him to this day—what father's logic is this?!"

Yu Canghai's features twisted grimly, his voice like hoarfrost. "You dare teach me how to act?!"

Gong Qinghong answered loudly: "I dare not. This petty man merely wishes to act *for* Lord Baihu!"

*Hum!*

The fire line halted abruptly; the residual wind from its unstoppable force blew Gong Qinghong's temple hair into a dance.

Yet his face remained calm, gazing tranquilly at the crimson flying sword suspended before his eyes.

Yu Canghai wore a sneer. "Act for this Seat? What business does this Seat have that requires you rat-like scum to handle?"

"Naturally, the small matters inconvenient for you to handle personally."

Gong Qinghong smiled faintly. "For instance, killing Li Jun for you, avenging the murder of your son."

"Just you? A mere Honghu Sequence Eight 'Knife-Man'."

Yu Canghai sneered. "The Embroidered Uniform Guards' dispatches write it clearly: your promotion ritual was ruined by Li Jun; you are already disgraced. Now you dare boast shamelessly here?"

Gong Qinghong's face did not change. "The situation that day—Li Jun was never in the calculations to begin with, merely an unforeseen variable."

Yu Canghai raised his brows in a cold laugh. "You think this Seat will believe your sophistry?"

"True or false, seeing is believing, hearing is deceiving."

Gong Qinghong laughed loudly, waving his soaking wet sleeves, and once more cupped his fists toward Yu Canghai in a deep bow.

"Regardless of truth, my Lord, what harm in trying once more? If it fails, you lose not a whit."

"Or... are you willing to simply watch Li Jun thrive in Chongqing Prefecture, unconcerned that he may one day grow too powerful to control?"

Wind and rain obscured the sky; the jumping tail flame crackled, the high heat baking Gong Qinghong's face until it ached.

After a long silence, the man in the pavilion finally spoke slowly: "Honghu Sequence, serving Qin in the morning and Chu in the evening, serving no fixed master. Speak—what does the Hidden King want from this Seat this time?"

"Great Ming Treasure Notes, military firearms, healing elixirs... all are available."

Yu Canghai narrowed his eyes. "Gong Qinghong, are you provoking this Seat?"

Gong Qinghong's expression was sincere. "This petty man dares not. Honghu takes these only to aid border garrisons in suppressing the chaos in the Sinner Zones; they will absolutely not appear on imperial soil."

Yu Canghai sneered. "You think this Seat will believe your ghost stories?"

"As long as the words are moving enough, even mountain ghosts will listen to tales of grand enterprise. Moreover, Lord Baihu, as an Embroidered Uniform Guard, you should know Honghu's capabilities. Li Jun is but an insignificant greeting gift."

Gong Qinghong pointed a finger toward the grand, majestic Daoist temple hidden in the mist atop the peak.

"There... is what Honghu can truly do for you."

*Hum...*

The flying sword flipped, slipping into the Daoist's wide sleeve.

"Today upon Mount Qingcheng, this seat has never seen you. Ensure this seat never sees you in any other place hereafter."

"Have no fear—tomorrow's Embroidered Guard bulletin shall record only that the Chengdu Prefecture Embroidered Guard seized a Honghu Society operative attempting to infiltrate Mount Qingcheng."

Gong Qinghong bowed low until his brow touched the floor; when he straightened, the rain pavilion stood utterly vacant.

Only the slender coils of green smoke from the censer still rose in silence.

Fog surged anew from either flank of the stone stairs, gathering to swallow Gong Qinghong's form whole.