On the Path to the Great Dao

The eldest madam, Xia Weiyin, immediately tried to block the news, but with spies planted by other noble clans inside the Li family, how could she possibly seal it off?

Soon, a Thousand-Li Sound Transmission Talisman reached her—from the Xia family, her brother Xia Chuming, with whom she had a close relationship in childhood. Xia Chuming beat around the bush, inquiring whether the rumors of her husband falling into peril were true and if the Xia family could offer any assistance.

Xia Weiyin knew that many eyes were watching the Li family's every move in Xinxian Province; she just hadn't expected her own natal family to be among them.

She responded with polished evasion, but soon another Thousand-Li Sound Transmission Talisman arrived—from sisters in Xijing, of the Zhang family.

Xia Weiyin was overwhelmed, but she knew the news could no longer be contained.

She activated her own Thousand-Li Sound Transmission Talisman to contact the Li family in Quanzhou.

The matter of Li Xiaozheng being petrified by the Great Ming treasure ship was likely the last thing the Quanzhou Li family—among the great clans—would hear about.

She felt a profound helplessness, thinking to herself.

Gongzhou, Fei County, Xinglong Town.

Chen Shi did not ride in the wooden cart. Instead, he walked alongside the green-robed scholar, inquiring about the origins of this Evil. It was Ding Ding's first time encountering something like exorcising Evil, and he was thrilled, listening intently and constantly asking for details.

The compass that controlled the wooden cart's direction was held by Doggy. Blackie Pot directed the cart's path, striding along on its four legs to keep up with them.

The green-robed scholar sensed something off, glanced around, but saw nothing amiss, and continued, "This Evil was once the village's Godmother, originally a divine tree. For some reason, it turned into an Evil essence and began wreaking havoc.

At first, the Godmother sent dreams to us, saying in them that she wanted to watch opera.

So our village invited an opera troupe. On the night of the performance, the Godmother said it was no good and plucked off all the troupe members' heads."

Chen Shi and Ding Ding jumped in fright.

"Plucked off their heads?"

Ding Ding stammered, pressing further, "How did she do it?"

"Just wrapped branches around their necks and lifted gently—they came right off."

The green-robed scholar had evidently studied for a few years but failed the scholar exams—there were many like him. His speech carried a scholarly air as he said, "My cultivation is shallow; I couldn't discern what spell the Godmother used. I only saw the troupe members die, but their heads stayed alive, faces painted in garish colors with the makeup of sheng, dan, jing, and chou roles, hanging from the tree and clamoring to watch opera.

The villagers below the stage were terrified and fled in all directions, only for more heads to be plucked off."

Chen Shi and Ding Ding exchanged a glance, both seeing the shock in each other's eyes.

These twenty taels of silver weren't going to be easy to earn.

Cases of Godmothers turning into Evil were rare, but they did happen occasionally.

Back when Grandpa was alive, Chen Shi had followed him everywhere selling talismans and exorcising Evil.

He had experienced similar incidents, like in one village where the Godmother turned Evil and wiped out the entire place.

At the time, Chen Shi had been sitting in the wooden cart, peeking out over the edge as Grandpa walked toward that Godmother.

To this day, Chen Shi still remembered the scene vividly.

That old lady was clad in black, hunched over, black qi billowing from her like thick smoke piercing the heavens. The surrounding earth cracked open, trees withered and died, and the village was eerily silent, save for some skeletal remains worshiping the black-clad old lady.

Chen Shi had understood nothing back then. Seeing Grandpa walk up and extinguish her with a single talisman, he thought the black-clad old lady was nothing special—just some run-of-the-mill Evil.

But reflecting on it now, that black-clad old lady's power must have been extraordinary. She could turn the dead into white skeletons who believed themselves still alive, worshiping her and gathering incense offerings.

Such strength surpassed ordinary Evil, edging toward demon territory—far beyond what a ghost bride could compare to.

Of course, the domain she controlled was only the size of the village, nowhere near a demon's hundred-li territory.

Since everyone in that village was already dead, Grandpa had done it for free. When he returned, he even complained to Chen Shi about wasting a talisman without collecting a fee.

Grandpa had said that this old lady was probably a tree spirit or some serpent or insect that had cultivated for years by absorbing moonlight essence. In the past, with people worshiping her, the incense qi contained extraordinary divine power that suppressed the mysterious forces in the moonlight.

Now, with fewer offerings, she could no longer suppress it, hence her corruption into Evil.

By contrast, ancient stone statues, buildings, or treasures rarely absorbed moonlight actively, so such cases were exceedingly uncommon.

"Has your village's population decreased a lot recently?"

Chen Shi asked.

The green-robed scholar shook his head. "Our village is called Three Harmonies Village—formed by merging three villages. Far from shrinking, the population has actually grown quite a bit.

It's about the size of a town now."

Chen Shi frowned.

In two-village mergers, this usually happened due to a sharp population drop, causing insufficient incense qi to suppress the Godmother's mysterious moonlight power. But Three Harmonies Village was a merger of three, clearly not matching a incense decline.

They arrived outside Three Harmonies Village. Blackie Pot returned to the cart, dropped the compass from its mouth, and sat obediently by the side on its hind legs, forepaws planted firmly.

The green-robed scholar glanced at it involuntarily, then looked away, mocking himself inwardly: "Ignorant fool."

Chen Shi surveyed Three Harmonies Village. The roads were well-developed, pierced through by a post road that ran straight onward—likely, there had once been a relay station here, around which the village developed.

Even the relay stations in West Ox New Continent relied on Godmothers for establishment. Officials and families passing through would overnight there, and without a Godmother's protection, Evil would harass them.

This village was already town-sized, with hundreds of households clustered densely—probably one to two thousand people.

From afar, Chen Shi saw the town shrouded in green qi, like clouds and mist formed from incense offerings.

They entered Three Harmonies Village. Blackie Pot fetched the compass again and took control of the wooden cart, which creaked and groaned piercingly in the silent village.

"The cart's axles need oiling."

Chen Shi broke the silence.

His own voice startled him—in the quiet village, it sounded unnaturally loud, echoing hollowly.

Ding Ding grew tense, pulling the cyan pipa bag from his back and clutching it to his chest, glancing nervously about, fearing something might leap out and scare him.

Chen Shi looked to the sides. Every household along the road had its front door wide open. Some had small incense burners on the threshold—palm-sized, with several sticks of incense stuck in them, fragrant smoke curling upward to join the green qi in the air.

Homes without burners had a mound of earth piled on the threshold, incense thrust into it.

Behind the thresholds knelt old women, hands pressed together in prayer, utterly devout.

Others were housewives, some with one or two children beside them, kneeling ramrod straight, hands clasped.

Some thresholds had sturdy men or elders behind them, kowtowing vigorously, one after another.

Strangely, regardless of man, woman, child, or elder, they all wore hats.

Black hats, tall ones—longer than their heads.

They said nothing; through the green mist, their faces and clothes looked faded to black and white.

"These hats... are they to stop the Godmother from plucking their heads?"

Ding Ding whispered.

Creak.

Creak.

The cart wheels still grated. Chen Shi, unnerved by the sound, halted the cart, squatted down to check underneath—but something flashed by below, too fast to make out.

The smoke was too thick here, like nighttime; visibility was poor.

As the wooden cart moved forward again, the creaking stopped, replaced by a squeaking groan.

Chen Shi glanced down again. In the green incense qi, something short and squat was approaching the cart. When it saw him look, it scampered away like a shot.

"Blackie Pot, keep watch around us.

This mist feels off."

Chen Shi instructed, taking the compass from Blackie Pot's paw and controlling the cart himself.

Blackie Pot promptly resumed walking on all fours, alertly scanning about.

They pressed on, gradually reaching the heart of Three Harmonies Village. Amid the green smoke, a massive shadow emerged—towering, branches twisting like coiling dragons and pythons, stretching in all directions: a great tree.

Ahead of the great tree, firelight pierced the mist into their eyes, but the smoke was so thick they could only see vague flickers dancing.

The blare of horns and suonas came drifting over—didi da da—followed by plucking, bowing, and singing, overlaid with operatic vocals.

Drawing nearer, the great tree sharpened into focus, though still hazy. Then cheers and applause thundered like waves.

Some voices shouted, "The young male lead sings poorly—get off, get off!"

More and more joined in the jeering: "Young male lead off! Young male lead off!"

Chen Shi, Ding Ding, and the others drew closer. Beneath the great tree stood crowds of varying heights, all craning toward the stage ahead.

Directly in front of the great jujube tree, facing Chen Shi and his group, was an opera house. Downstairs was where sheng, dan, jing, and chou changed costumes and prepared; candles burned, windows papered over, revealing only scattered flickers of light, occasionally eclipsed by passing figures inside.

Upstairs was the stage proper. Actors were fully costumed—some with banners thrust in their backs, others decked out flamboyantly, clowns cavorting about. Beneath the side curtains sat the troupe's musicians: horns, shengs,簧s, drums, clappers, gongs, cymbals, flutes, pipas, erhus, high huqins—all complete.

The one being hooted off was a young male lead, black scholar's hat on his head with a big red flower stuck to one side. Rattled by the jeers, he stood terrified on stage, on the verge of tears.

Below, more clamor demanded the young male lead step down.

Chen Shi noticed something odd about the audience.

The front rows looked of normal height.

The first row was child-sized; the second rose half a head taller, the third another half head over the second, the fourth over the third!

Row upon row backward, the spectators grew taller and taller—those at the back already over ten feet high!

Their bodies were elongated, as if grown tall but not wide: spindly arms, legs, torsos, necks, topped with oversized heads.

Ding Ding clutched his pipa tighter, shrinking his neck in surprise. "So many people! Do all the villagers love opera this much?"

No sooner had she spoken than the jeering crowd fell utterly silent, frozen in place.

Ding Ding startled. Then she saw the spectators—front and back alike—slowly turning their heads toward her.

As they turned, their bodies dissipated.

Those forms were made of incense qi; as long as the necks stayed still, it held. But once they moved, the qi scattered, leaving only heads suspended in midair, swiveling backward.

Pair after pair of eyes fixed on Ding Ding.

Above, the leaves rustled loudly.

Chen Shi now saw clearly: each head wore a tall black hat, a long stem connecting behind the hat.

These heads were like jujubes fruited on the tree, hanging neatly below.

They stared at Ding Ding, saying nothing.

The green-robed scholar's face filled with terror. He quietly signaled Ding Ding to hush, indicating that during performances here, one must not make a sound.

The stage quieted too; sheng, dan, jing, and chou all halted, standing awkwardly.

Chen Shi bowed to the jujube heads. "We are from the opera troupe. We spoke out of turn, disturbing everyone.

Those on stage, continue performing. Allow us time to do our makeup!"

The onstage troupe hastily resumed blowing, plucking, bowing, and singing; sheng, dan, jing, and chou began moving again.

"Listening to Xue Liang's words, my haughty pride melts away!"

"Human warmth and cold aren't heaven-made; who can shift them a fraction?

I lack while she has surfeit; she starves in contest while I play the coquette."

Below the stage, the countless jujube heads slowly turned away, resuming their watch of the opera.

Green smoke gathered beneath their necks, gradually reshaping bodies of varying heights.

Ding Ding breathed a sigh of relief. The green-robed scholar hurriedly led them toward the stage base.

"Pfft!"

The young male lead on stage was suddenly wrapped around the neck by a branch. His head was yanked free, floating into the air before dropping to join the audience, cheering wildly at the stage.

When other jujube heads jeered, he joined in cursing. As for his headless body, it swayed and toppled.

Chen Shi steered the wooden cart right up to the opera house door. It swung open; inside, several girls peered out in fright. They hurriedly pulled everyone in and slammed the door shut.

One girl wailed in despair, "Why'd you barge in? Bad performances here mean losing your head! Several senior brothers are already dead—the troupe leader got his snapped off too. Which troupe are you from? Just three people? And a dog—can Doggy sing opera too?"

Chen Shi ignored them, halted the cart, and with a clatter swept all the rouge, powder, and cosmetics from the vanity. In a low voice, "Blackie Pot!"

Blackie Pot stepped forward. He stabbed it with a "pfft," drawing black dog blood. Chen Shi ground cinnabar, pen flying across the vanity as he inscribed a talisman. The girls gaped, staring in astonishment.

Just then, someone came down the stairs, voice hushed. "Onstage! Onstage! Are you girls ready?"

The girls hurriedly donned headdresses and moved to go up, but the man glanced over. "Missing a pipa... you, you! Up!"

Ding Ding jumped. "Me?"

"Yes, you! Hurry!"

Ding Ding went anxiously, opened her cyan cloth bag, took out the pipa, and followed the girls onstage.

"Hurry with that drawing!"

She called back to Chen Shi.