Translated by: Hypersheep325

Edited by: Michyrr

In the southwest corner of Wenshui City stood twelve massive granaries. It was said that they stored enough grain to feed six counties of the Great Zhou for one year. If Wenshui City were besieged, this grain was enough to sustain the soldiers and citizens for several centuries, so one could imagine just how much grain was being stored inside these granaries.

One of the most important things granaries had to pay attention to was preventing fire, so these granaries were all located near the Wenshui.

Although it was midwinter, one still felt like they could hear the sound of flowing water while standing in the granary.

In reality, this was not the flowing of water, but the flowing of blood.

In the innermost granary, not a single grain could be found. This vast, and even imposing, granary was practically empty, with only several dozen people within.

Seven of them were completely naked, hanging from the chains used to transport grain. Blood constantly dripped from their bodies and smashed into the ground.

They had already been subjected to all sorts of tortures and were now in the most miserable of states. Even the pig butchered at the start of the year was more fortunate than them.

The torturers were all very young, some of them still in their teens. They all had focused expressions, the sight before their eyes unable to tear away the smallest sliver of their attention. There was no sympathy or pity on their faces, only the occasional shyness.

These young people were members of the Tang clan's Torture Hall, and all shared the same teacher: the emaciated elder sitting on the chair.

It was precisely that elder that had appeared in the old estate not too long ago.

The seven prisoners were brought down. There was not a single whole piece of flesh on their bodies, and they had lost a great deal of blood, but they were still alive.

The problem was that they now wished that they had never been born.

"Draw a signature, and then I will send all of you on your way."

The thin elder finally spoke, his voice as gentle as his expression, sounding particularly ordinary and commonplace.

But to the seven blood-drenched prisoners on the ground, the elder's voice was like the howl of a fiend from the abyss, but also the blooming of a flower in the Divine Kingdom above the sea of stars.

Though already on their last breaths, they began to crawl for all they were worth, fearing that they would fall behind. Dragging trails of blood through the floor of the granary, they crawled up to the elder, used their blurry eyesight to find the brush and paper, and then made their signatures as quickly as possible. Finally, they incessantly wept, "Grandpa Wei, just quickly kill me"

A plume of black smoke rose from the estate, followed by a flickering flame, and then cursing.

The Tang Second Master's most beloved Tong Cottage had been burned into the scorched earth by Fatty Son-in-Law.

The estate was on the shores of the Wenshui, located right behind the willow trees, but the Tong Cottage was located in a rather deep part of the estate, so this fire would not affect the life in the river waters.

The snowflakes fell on the water, instantly vanishing. The fish slowly swam about the water grass at the bottom of the river.

This was the southern part of the city, where the Tang clan's chief branch and second branch were separated only by a river. It was a most lofty and expensive area.

This place was far away from the Daoist church and the long street. There was no inn here, no restaurant.

So there were naturally no pedestrians, no spectating crowd.

Even the subordinates and servants of the chief branch had already been caught and brought back on the orders of Madam Tang.

But in the next moment, the desolate shore of the Wenshui suddenly became much livelier.

Seven peddlers, six government laborers, three fortune-tellers, two sesame-seed-candy-selling elders, and one cosmetic-buying girl suddenly appeared.

Everyone knew that these were no ordinary people.

Government laborers could be supervising peddlers, fortune tellers could chat a few words with elders selling sesame-seed candy, but the peddlers weren't selling cosmetic powder, so who was the girl going to buy it from?

They just so happened to be five different kinds of people.

This was the Fivekind Man that Tang Thirty-Six had requested to use from the Tang Old Master.

No one knew that the most frightening aspect of the Tang clan was not those private soldiers, not the old Guardian half a step into the Divine now standing in the ancestral hall, and not even the Torture Hall.

It was these people that no one knew about.

The Tang Old Master's thunderous rage upon hearing Tang Thirty-Six's request was the natural response to having one's true secrets and killing moves being found out by another person.

Although the other party was his own grandson, he still found it somewhat difficult to accept.

From this reaction, one could imagine the importance these people had to the Tang clan.

From the moment Chen Changsheng entered Wenshui City's Daoist church, these peddlers, government laborers, and the rest of Fivekind Man had appeared on the opposite shore.

They were there to watch the Orthodoxy's experts, ready to act at any moment. At the same time, they were also watching that clump of water grass in the depths of the river.

Just as that old Guardian had said to Tang Thirty-Six, the monster called Chusu seemed to move very mysteriously, but he had always been within the grasp of the Tang clan's old estate.

Today, these peddlers, government laborers, and fortune-tellers had come, in accordance with Tang Thirty-Six's orders, to force Chusu out, and then capture or kill him.

Although the Longevity Sect was already withering away, tens of thousands of years of foundational resources was like a tall mountain. If one looked down from it, one would see a seemingly bottomless abyss.

Chusu was the most horrifying product of this abyss. With just these peddlers and government laborers of ordinary Qi, was there a chance of winning?

The seven peddlers set down the boxes they used to hold their products. They took from inside little rattle-like toys, needles used for spinning sugar, and dragonflies made of bamboo, and began to assemble them together.

Their expressions were very calm, even somewhat wooden, but their movements were practiced, concise, and fast.

In a short time, the needles, rattles, and bamboo dragonflies had been combined.

This was a model, hundreds of times smaller than the original. The buildings and corridors atop it seemed almost real, as if some supreme artisan had carved this scenery out on a walnut.

The peddlers placed their hands on the edge of the model, and seven strands of different yet innately harmonious Qis poured inside.

Two fortune-tellers stepped forward. They stared at the tiny houses and corridors, the long streamers in their hands fluttering in the wind.

After some time, though the wind and snow remained unchanged, the streamers went still. Perhaps it was because their minds had calmed, or perhaps because their calculations had finished.

A bead of blood slowly emerged from a certain point in the model.

It was Chusu's current position.

Chusu was in a remote corner of the estate.

This place was a garden, where he had ensconced himself in the deepest part of an artificial hill. Even though it was winter, the cave was still a little moist.

This made him feel very comfortable.

He knew that Chen Changsheng had gone to the Tang clan's old estate today, and he even knew that the disciple from the Mount Li Sword Sect had remained in the Daoist church. In the past, he would definitely have infiltrated the Daoist church and killed that disciple, but he did not do it today, because he suspected this to be the Orthodoxy's trap.

He crouched at the mouth of the cave located in the depths of the artificial hill. He was surrounded by moss-covered stones, seeming to become one with them.

Seeing the nearby black smoke and feeling the heat, his eyes showed irritation and callousness.

Chusu did not know what had happened in the Tang clan's old estate, but he did know that something was wrong in the Tang clan's second branch. However, he was not worried. Even if Chen Changsheng really did manage to persuade the Tang Old Master, Chusu did not believe that anyone could catch him. Both his speed and ability to travel underground imbued him with this incredible confidence. If some expert really did find him, he would just leave.

Suddenly, he sensed a change in the snowstorm.

It wasn't that the snowstorm was suddenly getting faster or changing shape, but the Qi of the world contained within was changing, revealing a murderous intent.