"The Earth Dragon has rolled over!"
Terrified shouts rang out from Zhengyang Gate Street.
The bluestone road heaved violently, arching and collapsing like waves. The bamboo shelters of roadside tea stalls cracked, collapsing at the waist, cups and plates clattered to the ground fortunately it was night, and the stalls had already closed.
But at the other end, bricks from the city wall fell with a rustle, stirring up dust.
"This is bad!"
Wang Daoxuan exclaid: "Lai Yin has made a move!"
This thought crossed everyone's mind simultaneously.
Lai Yin had obtained the Yangzhou Tripod and could directly shake the Earth Vein, threatening Jinling, which was the reason everyone feared and dared not act recklessly.
Otherwise, even for Earth Immortals, a few Orthodox Sect Magic Veins could kill them.
Has the other side gone mad, deciding to act directly?
Just when everyone thought a catastrophic disaster was about to unfold, the roaring from underground suddenly stopped, as if halted by an invisible force.
The earth ceased to groan, leaving only dust in the air and panicked screams.
"...It stopped?"
Sha Lifei looked around, sowhat unbelieving.
But after waiting for a while, there was no aftershock.
It was not only them who were stunned.
In various parts of the city, those ghosts from the Ghost Theater Troupe originally using the chaos to stir trouble and incite panic over the "Silkworm God's anger" were now also confused and perplexed.
"Catch one alive and question them!"
Li Yan sensed sothing amiss and jumped without hesitation.
His speed was astounding, his voice barely reaching everyone when his figure already appeared on the roof opposite, stepping rapidly, manifesting only as a shadow, accompanied by thumping sounds.
With several dull thuds, black-clad figures wearing masks fell consecutively.
"Grab them! Quick!"
Seizing the mont, the local Mystical Sect experts imdiately took action.
Having already subdued the "Tiger Gate Order" Maoshan Old Taoist Nun in the east of the city, ishan Sect Mage struggling against the Water Gate and Martial Artist demons was also grappling, as well as the Maoshan Cultivators forcing back Qingyi Dan on Zhengyang Gate Street, almost simultaneously attacking.
They were thoroughly frightened, not daring to hold back, unleashing lethal moves and various spells, quickly capturing and subduing many mbers of the Ghost Theater Troupe.
Despite the Ghost Theater Troupe's rapid growth, their quality varied. So were Jiangnan Dao demons, others were rogue thugs, not enemies of the Jinling Mystical Sect.
Two experts quickly succumbed to the onslaught.
The situation was swiftly brought under control.
With no ti to escort them back to prison, interrogation began imdiately.
A big-faced demon subdued by Maoshan talismans was dragged before Li Yan and others, interrogated sternly by the white-haired elder Mage: "Speak! Why did the Earth Dragon act prematurely? And why did it suddenly stop?!"
The big-faced demon, with oil paint mixed with sweat on his face, raspily sneered: "Kill if you will, why so many babblings... Ah!"
Halfway through his harsh words, he shrieked horribly.
It was Li Yan giving a signal, and Long Yan'er released the sesa gu directly for coercion.
"Stop, stop! I'll tell..."
The power of Long Yan'er's sesa gu was undeniable, even iron-n couldn't withstand it, soon this fellow began begging for rcy and confessing: "It's...it's not my fault at all!"
"They indeed wanted action prematurely! Said to utilize the Yangzhou Tripod before the Dragon Offering Ceremony was complete, to stir the Earth Energy, shake the Earth Vein, then overturn river waves to destroy water forts, allowing... allowing Auntie's army to charge over..."
"But... but this commotion... just shook a few tis and then stopped?!"
"This wasn't how it was supposed to be..."
Amidst the terror, his eyes were full of confusion.
Upon hearing this, everyone exchanged a quick glance.
The demon's look of astonishnt and fear did not seem feigned.
"It seems plans have changed..." Li Yan mused, looking into the distance.
Beside him, the Maoshan Old Taoist Nun also voiced her agreent: "They were aware of Lai Yin's plan to act early, but only half of it was executed, sothing must have gone wrong."
The reason was elusive, they could only take these demons into custody for now.
Jinling City narrowly avoided a catastrophe, yet the shadow over the city wasn't dispersed; instead, it seed like an invisible black hand, choking everyone's throats, making it hard to breathe.
The Qinhuai River water still flowed, but the paddle sounds and lamplight were much sparser.
Most of the once bustling river houses had their doors and windows tightly shut, with only a few brave rchants cautiously peering out, faces filled with alertness and panic.
The footsteps of patrolling soldiers were heavier than usual, the sound of armor clashing rang particularly sharp in the silent streets and alleys. The air was filled with the earthy scent after rain, mixed with a faint elusive, unsettling sweetness of decay.
Like maggots on bones, quietly spreading.
...
Under the moonlight, the rooftops rose and fell.
Deep in the narrow alley, a sheep horn lamp swayed in the wind.
The dim yellow halo illuminated the mottled plaque of "Zhou's Machine House."
Sobs seeped from the door cracks, old weaver Zhou Ada crouched beside the loom, his withered hands brushing the shuttle-bound gray-white silk threads.
The silk seed to squirm slightly, as if alive, burrowing into his cracked fingertips.
Twenty looms crowded into the moldy, damp earth house, behind each sat a hollow-eyed weaver, the air floating with the sour sll of despair sweat.
"The Silk Bureau's dog officials..."
"The newly added 'Fire Loss' tax... Ah Nan's dicine money..."
"Sob sob~"
In the dark, sobs and the sound of teeth grinding were heard intermittently.
"Do it!"
"I won't live, and these dog officials won't either!"
After the third drumbeat, hunched figures slipped out from different doorways, ghost-like, converging at the communal well in the street center, throwing silk into it...
......
Inside the City God Temple, incense was sparse.
Zhang Jingqing, the old Taoist, looked at the empty main hall and several disciples with wan faces and shallow Dao-hang, sighing deeply, his wrinkled face clouded with worry.
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