As the system’s time-stop domain activated, the entire courtyard of the Lord of Yangzhou’s mansion instantly fell into absolute silence, even the air seeming to freeze.
Gong Shangyu’s figure moved like a ghost, gliding unhindered through the frozen Lord of Yangzhou’s mansion.
Following the faint fluctuations of Gu Qingying’s residual magic power, she strode boldly straight into the Zhao Family Study located in the mansion’s backyard.
At this moment, the Zhao Family Study’s door was tightly locked, but that meant nothing to Gong Shangyu.
She casually slid her finger like a sword across the lock, and the once firmly shut door suddenly swung open.
Pushing the door, Gong Shangyu entered, her sharp gaze sweeping across the room’s various furnishings.
The Zhao Family Study was elegantly arranged and richly stocked with books, yet there was an underlying chill that pervaded the room.
Soon, Gong Shangyu’s attention was drawn to an inconspicuous side room directly opposite the study.
A plain white mourning cloth hung on that room’s door, the door slightly ajar, faint glimmers of candlelight and incense smoke seeping out.
Gong Shangyu released her divine sense for a brief scan, immediately furrowing her brow:
“Hmm? A Ling Hall? Why would there be a Ling Hall right opposite the study in the Lord of Yangzhou’s mansion?”
Sensing something amiss, Gong Shangyu’s heart stirred, and she immediately darted toward the Ling Hall across from the study.
Pushing open the door, she found that the room truly was a makeshift Ling Hall.
In the center stood an altar table, atop which rested an incense burner filled with congealed smoke and several shriveled fruit plates.
Behind the altar was a red coffin, unsealed, appearing especially eerie in the motionless candlelight.
“Hm? The memorial tablet for daughter Zhao Mingyin…”
Gong Shangyu read the inscription on the tablet, her beautiful brows knitting tightly.
Recalling Zhao Zongchang’s earlier claim that his daughter had died two years ago, Gong Shangyu felt more and more certain that something was deeply wrong.
“What exactly is Zhao Zongchang up to? His daughter has been dead for two whole years. Why hasn’t she been buried? Instead, her coffin is kept right opposite his study? Zhao Zongchang really is suspicious.”
Gong Shangyu quickly searched the room, soon finding a diary inside the altar table’s drawer.
Opening it, she saw it was written in Zhao Zongchang’s handwriting.
The earlier entries mostly recorded petty official matters and father-daughter affections, but two years ago, the tone abruptly turned unbearably sorrowful.
“April 23rd, Yinyin! Yinyin… my most obedient daughter! Why has Heaven treated me so cruelly? What did I do wrong? Today my hands tremble, my heart aches. I, Zhao Zongchang, have given everything, so why did you, my beloved daughter, still have to leave…”
“April 25th, my daughter Yinyin is gone, and my heart, Zhao Zongchang’s heart, has died with her. Without Yinyin, what meaning does my position as Lord of Yangzhou hold? My wife weeps daily; the Zhao family is falling apart.”
***
“Mid-Autumn Festival, a time for family reunions. Seeing other children playing happily with their parents, my heart is torn apart. If I could, I would give anything to bring Yinyin back to life…”
The diary’s entries paused for a time, then resumed with an eerie hope permeating the words.
“December 4th, there is always a way out! Today, I unexpectedly met an Immortal Master at Cihang Temple who spoke of a Resurrection Ritual capable of reviving the dead! I know this method must involve forbidden arts, but to see Yinyin again, I, Zhao Zongchang, would willingly descend to hell!”
Zhao Zongchang’s diary abruptly ended here.
Though it did not record who the so-called “Immortal Master” was, nor the secret technique’s details, combined with the recent cases of missing children in the city, the implication was clear.
Closing the diary, Gong Shangyu’s mind was made up.
She returned to Zhao Zongchang’s study and began a targeted search.
Soon, she discovered a procurement list hidden in a secret compartment.
The list included a bewildering array of materials, but having been an alchemist in her past life, Gong Shangyu immediately sensed something off.
“Yin Blackstone, Soul Guiding Wood, Soul Fixing Sand… and large quantities of refined Cinnabar and Household Animal Blood? These are clearly materials for setting up a large-scale Sacrificial Formation!”
“Moreover, all these purchases were made under Zhao Zongchang and the Zhao family’s private names, bypassing the official treasury — extremely covert.”
Yet even more alarming than these materials, Gong Shangyu found a repair record from two years ago for the Lord of Yangzhou’s mansion, along with concurrent Approval Documents for key buildings throughout the city: the bustling Cihang Temple in the south, Yunlong Temple in the north, the eastern marketplace, and the western barracks.
All these buildings, including the mansion at the center, underwent “routine maintenance” during the same period.
What’s more, these locations precisely matched the Yin energy leyline nodes previously identified by the Alchemy Pavilion, based on the residences of the afflicted citizens.
And that time frame, two years ago, also corresponded to when strange illnesses began to spread among the city’s populace, and when corpses started to rise at the outlying mass graves.
“Hmph… Using the entire city of Yangzhou as a formation array, with key nodes set at four crucial points—what a grand scheme!”
Gong Shangyu sucked in a cold breath, now almost certain Zhao Zongchang had exploited his position to secretly lay down a sacrificial array two years ago under the guise of repairs, forcibly altering the city’s leyline structure and causing the citizens’ afflictions.
As for Zhao Zongchang’s purpose in setting this array and kidnapping four children with Yin destinies within the city, it was most likely under the guidance of that so-called Immortal Master, using some demonic sect’s forbidden arts to resurrect his daughter.
At this point, the evidence was nearly conclusive.
But one crucial piece was still missing.
Where exactly had Zhao Zongchang hidden Gu Qingying and the kidnapped children?
And where did he intend to perform the ritual?
“Hm… Considering Gu Qingying’s magical fluctuations, she’s definitely somewhere beneath the Lord of Yangzhou’s mansion.”
“Besides, Zhao Zongchang secretly renovated the mansion two years ago. This means there must be a hidden chamber underground. But where could the entrance be?”
While pondering this, Gong Shangyu searched thoroughly through the study and the Ling Hall—tapping the walls, inspecting the floors, even probing with her divine sense—but found nothing.
Zhao Zongchang, capable of setting up such a sophisticated formation, had clearly concealed the secret chamber’s entrance extremely well.
“Hm? Strange… Where could that old Zhao have hidden the secret entrance?”
Sweat beaded on Gong Shangyu’s temple as she searched in vain.
Suddenly, an idea struck her like lightning, clearing the doubts clouding her mind.
“Zhao Mingyin has been dead for almost two years. Why is her coffin still kept opposite the Zhao Family Study? Is it merely for Zhao Zongchang’s daily worship? Or… is this coffin itself a diversion?”
Thinking this, Gong Shangyu quickly returned to the Ling Hall, her eyes fixed on the red coffin.
The coffin looked ordinary but felt conspicuously out of place in this scene.
Circling the coffin, she took a deep breath and then forcefully pushed open the un-nailed lid.
As the coffin lid lifted, a dark, deep tunnel leading straight downward was revealed!
“Just as I thought!”
Gong Shangyu sneered inwardly.
“The most dangerous place is the safest place. Who would have guessed that the Lord’s daughter’s Ling Hall coffin was actually the secret passageway leading to the demonic sect’s sacrificial venue!”
Without hesitation, Gong Shangyu flipped herself into the tunnel and strode forward.