Chapter Four: The City God Temple

Jie Peiling raised his eyebrows, glanced around cautiously, and felt a flicker of alarm. After confirming there was no one nearby, he exhaled in relief.

The statues within the Yingtian Taoist Temple were all impeccably clean; even a speck of dust would earn a severe reprimand. Seeing the current state without a senior disciple’s scolding made Jie Peiling uneasy.

Now in unfamiliar surroundings, he tread carefully, walking several dozen paces along the perimeter wall until he reached a somewhat open space. Nearby lay a fallen plaque inscribed with the words “City God.”

At the sight of those two characters, his heart skipped a beat.

The term “City God” carried immense sanctity—it referred to a deity who governed and protected an entire city, managed the affairs of the underworld, oversaw the souls of the living and the dead, rewarded virtue, punished evil, and maintained the register of the departed.

But how could this place, in such ruin and disarray, truly be the City God’s mansion?

What lay before him was a plaza, utterly chaotic, devoid even of a single figure.

Yet Jie Peiling felt there was more beneath the surface. Somehow, he had ended up in this dire place. Though the reason eluded him, it was hardly a good sign. He resolved not to wait passively for fate.

From within his robes, he retrieved a talisman of yellow paper, covered in intricate, interwoven patterns. This was undoubtedly a genuine charm.

He possessed only a few such talismans, unsure where he had landed, yet the peril before him was clear. Even the City God’s gate was in shambles, signaling that his life was far from secure. Without hesitation, he activated the faintly red threads he had just cultivated today, casting them across the talisman, enveloping it in an instant.

Jie Peiling did not know the precise power of this talisman; when acquired, it was simply known as a tool against malevolent spirits and darkness.

After he activated it, the talisman floated gently, coming to rest less than an arm’s length in front of him, trembling slightly.

Taking a step forward, the talisman glided automatically toward a side entrance.

Jie Peiling had no understanding of the calamity that had befallen the City God’s pavilion, but the devastation was evident to any discerning eye. He refused to sit idly by and await death. If fate had brought him here, surely he had a purpose. The scene bore a striking resemblance to the first chapter of the “Yang Zu Flying Sword Chronicles” he had recently read.

The talisman radiated a faint, dim yellow glow that grew stronger, bathing Jie Peiling in its light. Wherever his feet touched, the poisonous gases and venomous creatures on the ground recoiled and fled.

With tense focus and no room for carelessness, he followed the talisman slowly forward. Beyond the side hall lay the main chamber, where a plaque inscribed in golden characters still hung.

But the deity enshrined there bore no resemblance to the City God. Instead, it was a statue of a middle-aged man clad in armor, wielding a long spear. Even as stone, he emanated an overwhelming aura of battlefield ferocity and martial prowess.

This seemed to be a founding war hero immortalized in stone. Flanking him were no ghostly spirits but officials dressed in formal robes, belts adorned with fish-shaped tokens. Jie Peiling surmised these were former civil and military officers, now honored as the City God’s assistants—eight in total.

The talisman halted, its glow illuminating the surroundings. The once-gilded plaque above was now mostly stripped of its lacquer. A thick black serpent, as thick as a fist, coiled several times around the plaque. Its body hung down, swaying in the breeze, as if a cold wind swept through. The serpent raised its head toward Jie Peiling, hissing venomously, its eyes glinting with icy murderous intent.

The hissing sounded like snowflakes striking the ear, chilling and unmistakably a warning.

Jie Peiling showed no fear. Having grown up in a secluded mountain temple, he was immune to snakes and insects. As he crossed the threshold, the black serpent lunged suddenly, mouth wide open, aiming to swallow him whole.

In the past, he may have been cautious, fearful of injury. But now, having mastered the “Immortal Elder’s Supreme Taiji Profound Path,” none of this posed a problem. What to ordinary people appeared as a rapid strike seemed to him like a slow crawl.

Without raising his head, he sidestepped and gripped the serpent’s head with all five fingers of his right hand. Pale red threads converged on his hand, and with a slight flick of his wrist, the creature’s eyes darkened instantly, its body going limp as if boneless. When he threw it aside, it crashed heavily to the ground, motionless and dead.

The talisman resumed its movement, though its glow was now dimmer.

Jie Peiling followed it beyond the main hall into another plaza—not large, but not small either. The area was desolate, ancient trees looming, wild grass growing unchecked. No rabbits or pheasants stirred; even if they existed, the black serpent would have devoured them. Nearby stood a human-sized stone tablet, its inscriptions so ancient they were illegible.

Without lingering over the tablet, Jie Peiling pressed on, guided by the talisman. To his left and right lay the halls of the God of Wealth and the Grand Duke of Jupiter.

These places should have been bustling with devotees burning incense and bowing, praying for abundant fortune and a life free from hardship, or seeking protection and peace by venerating their birth-year deity. Instead, they were draped in cobwebs, stones cracked by rain, and weathered by the passing years.

The talisman flew straight ahead. After a brief glance, Jie Peiling averted his eyes and followed closely, unwilling to pause.

Suddenly, the talisman paused briefly, faint flames flickering within its glow. Instinctively, he glanced back toward the stone tablet, where a white shadow seemed to flicker.

At that moment, from the large halls on either side, a soft, seductive female voice whispered faintly—barely audible, yet chilling beneath its allure, carrying a sharp, penetrating coldness that pierced the heart.