“Pure Yin physiques?” Zanxing asked, “Why does this demon specifically target women with a pure Yin physique? Does it increase its demonic power?”
“I’ve never heard of that,” Tian Fangfang said as he sat down.
Men Dong’s little face was tightly drawn, and he still looked at Gu Baiying with a hint of fear. He felt uneasy and said, “Martial Uncle, I do know of a secret technique that requires the blood of women with pure Yin physiques.”
Gu Baiying replied, “The Secret Art of Yanyang.”
“What is The Secret Art of Yanyang?” Zanxing asked.
“It is a legendary secret technique,” Gu Baiying’s face turned slightly grim. “It is said that by finding forty-nine girls with a pure Yin physique and using their blood in a sacrificial ritual, one can achieve immortality and extend their lifespan.”
Tian Fangfang’s eyes widened. “Why have I never heard of this?”
“It’s just a rumor spread by others, and no one knows if it’s true,” Men Dong frowned. “Moreover, this method is excessively cruel and evil. How could anyone in the cultivation world use it? Only some demon cultivators with malicious intentions would resort to such measures.”
Mimi jumped onto the stool and lazily yawned.
Zanxing looked at Gu Baiying. “Do you mean that the women who were killed forty years ago might have been victims because someone wanted to use the Secret Art of Yanyang to prolong life and achieve immortality?”
“That possibility cannot be ruled out.”
“But that doesn’t make sense,” Zanxing still didn’t understand. “Aren’t demons known for their long lifespans? Why would they go to such lengths?”
“The lifespans of demons are indeed very long,” Men Dong shook his head. “A few hundred years at the least, and if undisturbed and dedicated to cultivation, they can live for thousands of years. There is indeed no need to resort to such an evil secret technique.”
“Then this secret technique must have some other benefits. It can’t be a coincidence that the victims just happened to be born on Yin months, Yin days, and Yin hours, all possessing pure Yin physiques, right?” Tian Fangfang said. “That’s no joke.”
Zanxing said nothing and looked at Gu Baiying, meeting his gaze directly.
The two exchanged glances, and without needing to say much, they both thought of the scrolls they had seen today regarding Emperor Shengning in Tianlu Pavilion.
Emperor Shengning had been frail since childhood, coughing up blood daily in his youth, but his health gradually improved after Princess Lizhu married into the royal family. His prescription list also seemed abnormal. There were plenty of medicinal ingredients listed earlier, but in the six months before his marriage, the list ceased to update. Initially, Zanxing thought it was for the sake of preparing for the wedding, perhaps the imperial physicians advised him to stop medication to ensure a healthy heir. But now, it seemed that perhaps Emperor Shengning had already found another way to extend his lifespan at that time.
It was during the six months before his marriage that the shark demon began their killing spree in the Country of Li’er.
And there was Princess Lizhu.
Thinking of Princess Lizhu made Zanxing’s heart skip a beat. He turned to Gu Baiying and said, “Martial Uncle, Princess Lizhu’s marriage to the emperor here may not be a coincidence.”
If Princess Lizhu also had a pure Yin physique born on Yin months, Yin days, and Yin hours, then there might indeed be another hidden story behind the events of that year.
The former lord of Li’er, willing to marry a princess from a distant land on the eastern continent, was considered by the commoners of Li’er to be a predestined match made by the heavens. But now, it seemed somewhat ominous.
Gu Baiying’s eyes darkened slightly. After a moment of silence, he said, “Go and find out Princess Lizhu’s date of birth.”
The sun descended from the edge of the sky, sinking below the horizon, leaving only a faint reddish glow spreading across half of the sea, like bright red gems wrapped in a blue makeup box, emitting delicate shimmering light.
Princess Lizhu stood by the window, using a cloth to wipe her cow horn bow. The wind blew in from the courtyard outside the hall, carrying the fragrance of magnolia everywhere. It blew her wiping movements to a halt involuntarily, and she found herself gazing somewhat absentmindedly at the curved bow in her hand.
The wind in the Country of Li’er was gentle as well. The climate here was humid, unlike the dryness of the mountains. People spoke softly and slowly, brewing sweet and refreshing syrups. Of course, there was nothing wrong with that, but many times, Princess Lizhu still missed her homeland, longing for the rough voices of her countrymen, the biting winds in the mountains, and the rich and spicy liquor in the palace.
She missed freedom.
It had been forty years since she married here. Forty years was indeed a long time, and the most difficult days seemed endless, but looking back one day, she realized how swiftly time had passed. Unbeknownst to her, she had already come this far, and so much time had elapsed.
Perhaps it was due to old age, but these past few days, she kept recalling the past. She thought back to when she first married into the Li’er Country, her unwilling demeanor at the time.
Back then, Princess Lizhu of the Linshi Kingdom was not as reserved and taciturn as she was now. She enjoyed wearing bright red riding attire, carrying a bow and arrow to hunt in the mountains, surpassing her brothers in hunting prowess. She thought she was like the wind in the mountains, always flying freely and unrestrained. That was until the decree of marriage arrived, and she set aside her bow and arrow, exchanging them for delicate dresses as she journeyed to the Li’er Country, no longer Princess Lizhu, but someone else’s queen.
Emperor Shengning was indeed gentle, considerate, and handsome, but Princess Lizhu was still not accustomed.
She was not used to the tides at night, the pervasive whiteness of the palace, the overly fragrant scent of magnolia flowers, or the version of herself without her bow and arrow.
She felt somewhat melancholic.
Princess Lizhu even entertained the idea of running away.
She remembered one night, perhaps because the moon was exceptionally bright, she suddenly felt an urge to escape from the palace. So she quietly slipped out of the hall. As she approached the palace gates, she hesitated, intending to turn back. However, just as she was about to return, she encountered a young palace guard outside the hall.
The guard was very young, his eyes downcast, never daring to raise his head. He seemed to be very afraid of her. When Princess Lizhu asked him questions, he did not answer; he was a mute.
Suddenly, she felt an urge to confide in someone. She grabbed the young guard and sat down on the ground, pouring out all her grievances and frustrations from these past few days.
The young guard remained quiet, listening to her words. As dawn approached, Princess Lizhu brushed off the dust and stood up, but the guard stopped her.
He carefully placed something in Princess Lizhu’s hand.
It was a blue conch shell.
Princess Lizhu had looked at him, and he looked back, shy, nervous, and cautious. Princess Lizhu took the conch shell and smiled at him, saying, “Thank you.”
She never saw that guard again. People came and went in the palace, and no one stayed forever. Of course, she never entertained the thought of escaping the palace again. Soon after, Emperor Shengning perished in battle against the shark demons. As the queen, she had to give birth to the heir to the throne and raise her young son. Responsibilities weighed heavily on her, and the mountain winds of the Linshi Kingdom could only remain a dream.
The blue seashell was kept in a box, and when she left the palace later, it was accidentally lost by a maid and could not be found to this day. These were stories from many years ago, but for some reason, after encountering Zanxing and the other person today, they came back to her mind.