From that point on, the situation spiraled out of control. Over the next nearly a hundred years, seventeen brides disappeared in the Yujun Mountain area. Sometimes, there would be no incidents for over a decade, while other times, two brides would disappear in just a month. A terrifying legend quickly spread: Yujun Mountain held a ghostly bridegroom who, if he took a fancy to a woman, would abduct her on her way to her wedding and then devour the bride's procession.
This story wasn't supposed to spread. While seventeen brides had vanished, hundreds more were safe and sound. Since they couldn't be found, and couldn't be saved, they could only make do with it. It was simply that fewer families dared to marry their daughters to this area, and local couples were hesitant to hold grand weddings. But the seventeenth bride's father was a government official. He doted on his daughter, and having heard of the local legend, he carefully selected forty exceptionally brave military officers to escort her to her wedding. Yet, she still disappeared.
This ghostly bridegroom had stirred up a hornet's nest. The official, unable to find any human beings to deal with him, enraged, he united his friends and performed a flurry of rituals. He even followed the advice of a gurus and opened warehouses to help the poor, causing a stir in the city. This finally alerted the high priests. Otherwise, it would have been nearly impossible for those tiny mortals' voices to reach the ears of the gods in heaven.
Xie Lian said, “That’s basically it.”
Because the two of them looked so uncooperative, he didn't know if they were listening or not. If they didn't listen, he had to repeat the words. Nan Feng raised his head and frowned, "What do the missing brides have in common?"
Xie Lian said, “Rich and poor, beautiful and ugly, wives and concubines. In short, there’s no pattern. It’s impossible to tell what this ghost groom’s tastes are.”
Nanfeng hummed, picked up the teacup, took a sip, and seemed to begin to think. Fuyao, however, didn't even touch the tea Xie Lian had pushed towards him. She just kept wiping her fingers slowly with a white handkerchief, saying coldly as she wiped them, "Your Highness, how do you know it's a ghost groom? It's not certain. No one has ever seen it. How can we know if it's male or female, old or young? Aren't you taking it for granted?"
Xie Lian smiled and said, "The scroll was compiled by the civil servants of the Spiritual Literature Hall. 'Ghost Bridegroom' is just a popular term. However, what you said makes a lot of sense."
After a few more words, Xie Lian realized that the two young officers were quite clear-minded. Although their expressions were unfriendly, their arguments were straightforward, which was quite comforting. Seeing that it was getting late outside, the three of them temporarily left the inn. Xie Lian walked for a while wearing his bamboo hat when he suddenly realized that the two people behind him had not caught up. Puzzled, he turned around to look, and they were also looking at him in confusion. Nan Feng asked, "Where are you going?"
Xie Lian said, “Looking for a place to stay. Fuyao, why are you rolling your eyes again?”
Nan Feng asked again in confusion, "Then why are you going to the wild mountains?"
Xie Lian often slept on the streets, always spreading out a piece of cloth to lie down for the night. Naturally, he was used to looking for a cave to make a fire. After Xie Lian reminded him, he realized that Nanfeng and Fuyao were both military officers under the God of War. If there was a Nanyang Temple or Xuanzhen Temple nearby, they could go in directly. Why did they have to sleep in the wilderness?
After a while, the three of them found a shabby, deserted shrine in a small, inconspicuous corner. With lingering incense and broken plates, it looked quite desolate. A small, round, stone figure was enshrined in the shrine. Xie Lian called out a few times, but the figure had remained unworshipped and uncalled for in years. Suddenly, he heard someone calling, and opened his eyes to see three figures standing before the shrine. The two on the left and right were enveloped in a halo of nouveau riche, making their faces completely indistinct. He jumped in shock, his voice trembling, "Is there anything the three immortal officials can do for me?"
Xie Lian nodded and said, “No need. I was just wondering if there’s a City God Temple nearby that’s dedicated to General Nanyang or General Xuanzhen?”
The local god did not dare to neglect it and said, "This, this, this..." He counted with his fingers and said, "Five miles from here there is a City God Temple, which is dedicated to, yes, General Nanyang."
Xie Lian clasped his hands together and said, "Thank you." The land god, blinded by the two nearby spheres of light, quickly disappeared. Xie Lian found a few coins and placed them in front of the shrine. He picked up some scattered incense sticks and lit them. Fu Yao rolled her eyes, making Xie Lian want to ask if his eyes were tired.
After five miles, they finally saw a bustling City God Temple, standing by the roadside. Though small, it was well-equipped and bustling with activity. The three of them concealed their identities and entered the temple. Inside the hall was a clay statue of the Nanyang Martial God, clad in armor and holding a bow.
When Xie Lian saw the statue, he hummed inwardly.
In a small rural temple, the statues were crudely sculpted and painted. Overall, they looked quite different from the Feng Xin that Xie Lian had in mind.
However, for the priests, the statues' shape was distorted, a common occurrence. Not only would their mothers not recognize them, some priests wouldn't even recognize their own statues. After all, few craftsmen had actually seen the priests themselves, so the statues were either beautiful or horribly distorted. The only way to identify the priests was by their specific postures, ritual implements, and clothing.
Generally speaking, the wealthier the region, the more pleasing the statues are to the priests' taste. The poorer the region, the worse the craftsman's taste, and the more appalling the statues. Currently, only General Xuanzhen's statues are in generally good condition. Why? Because everyone else's statues are ugly, and they're not going to care. But when he sees his own statues being sculpted in an ugly way, he'll secretly destroy them and have them remade, or perhaps convey his displeasure through dreams. Over time, this has taught great believers to seek out craftsmen who can create beautiful statues!
The entire Xuanzhen Hall, like their general, was a place of exquisite refinement. Fuyao had spent the entire hour since entering the Nanyang Temple, critiquing the statue of Nanyang, describing its distorted form, vulgar colors, inferior craftsmanship, and strange taste. Seeing the veins bulging on Nanfeng's forehead, Xie Lian quickly sought a new topic to discuss. Then, just as another young woman entered to pay her respects, kneeling reverently, he spoke softly, "Speaking of which, Nanyang Zhenjun's turf is in the southeast. I didn't expect you to be so popular in the north."
People build temples and palaces to imitate the palaces of the heavens, and the statues are the reflections of the priests themselves. Temples gather believers, attract incense, and become an important source of magic power for priests. Due to multiple reasons such as geography, history, and customs, people in different regions usually worship different priests. In his own territory, the magic power of a priest will be at its strongest, which is the home advantage. Only for a priest like the Emperor Shenwu, who has believers all over the world and temples in all directions, it doesn't matter whether he plays at home or not. It's a good thing that the temple of his own general is also prosperous even in non-home areas. Nanfeng should be proud, but looking at his face, it's not good. Fuyao on the side smiled slightly and said, "Not bad, not bad, deeply loved."
Xie Lian said, “But I have a question, I wonder…”
Nan Feng said, "If you don't know whether you should say it or not, then don't say it."
Xie Lian thought to himself, "No. What I meant was, 'I wonder if anyone can answer this question.'"
However, he had a feeling that this would be a bad omen, so he decided to change the subject. Unexpectedly, Fuyao said leisurely, "I know what you want to ask. You must be asking why there are so many female believers coming to worship."
This was exactly the question Xie Lian wanted to ask.
The number of female followers of the Martial God Sect had always been smaller than the number of male followers, with him being the only exception eight hundred years ago. However, the reason for this exception was very simple: good-looking.
He knew it wasn't because of his high moral standing or extraordinary powers, but simply because his statues and temples were beautiful. His temples were almost all built by the royal family, and the statues were carved by skilled craftsmen from across the country, modeled after his face. Furthermore, inspired by the saying, "Though in hell, the heart is in paradise," craftsmen often added flowers to his statues and planted his temples in a sea of flowers and trees. Thus, he was nicknamed the "Flower Crowned God of War." Female worshippers admired the beauty of his statues and the abundance of flowers in his temples, and for this reason, they were willing to drop in to pay their respects.
However, due to their heavy murderous aura, martial gods are often portrayed with stern, ferocious, and cold features, prompting female believers to prefer worshipping Guanyin or something similar. While this Nanyang statue wasn't particularly murderous, it was even less attractive. Yet, the number of female worshippers almost outnumbered the males. Nanfeng clearly didn't want to answer this question, which puzzled him. Just then, the young woman finished her worship, stood up, fetched the incense, and turned around.
Xie Lian turned around and nudged the other two. They were initially quite impatient, but after he nudged them, they looked over and their expressions changed instantly.
Fuyao said, "It's so ugly!"
Xie Lian choked for a moment before saying, "Fuyao, you can't talk about girls like that."
To be fair, Fuyao was telling the truth. The girl's face was incredibly flat, as if it had been slapped flat. To say her features were ordinary would be an understatement. If I had to describe them, I'd probably have to use the words "crooked nose and slanted eyes."
But Xie Lian couldn't tell whether she was beautiful or ugly. The main thing was that when she turned around, a huge hole was hanging on the back of her skirt, which made it impossible to pretend not to see it.
Fuyao was startled at first, but quickly calmed down. The veins on Nanfeng's forehead disappeared in an instant.
Seeing his expression change drastically, Xie Lian hurriedly said, "Don't be nervous. Don't be nervous."
The girl took the incense and knelt down again, praying as she did so: "General Nanyang, may I, Xiaoying, pray for your blessing. I pray that the evil bridegroom may be apprehended soon, and that no innocent people may be harmed by him again..."
She was so devoutly worshipping that she was completely oblivious to the unusual movement behind her, or the three figures crouching at the feet of the statue she was worshipping. Xie Lian felt a headache coming on. "What should we do? We can't just let her walk out like this. People will see her all the way back."
Moreover, looking at the tear on the back of her skirt, it was obvious that someone had deliberately cut it with a sharp weapon. I am afraid that not only will she be watched by onlookers, but it will also be widely publicized and ridiculed. That would be a real humiliation.
Fuyao said indifferently: "Don't ask me. She didn't pay homage to our General Xuanzhen. Don't look at anything inappropriate. I didn't see anything."
Nanfeng, with his handsome face now pale and pale, could only wave his hands, unable to speak. A rebellious young man, reduced to a mute, his life hopeless. Xie Lian had no choice but to take matters into his own hands. He stripped off his coat and tossed it down. The coat fluttered down to the girl, covering the rather unsightly hole in the back of her skirt. The three of them breathed a sigh of relief.
But the wind was truly uncanny, startling the young woman. She glanced around, removed her outer robe, hesitated for a moment, and placed it on the altar, still completely oblivious. After burning incense, she was about to leave. If she were allowed to wander around again, the young woman would be too embarrassed to face anyone. Seeing the other people around her either frozen or paralyzed, feeling useless anyway, Xie Lian sighed. Nanfeng and Fuyao felt a sudden emptiness around them as Xie Lian appeared and leaped down.
The lights in the temple were dim and not bright. His leap created a gust of wind, causing the flames to sway. The girl, Xiaoying, saw a flash before her eyes, and then a man suddenly emerged from the darkness, with his upper body naked, and stretched out his hand to her. She was scared to death on the spot.
As expected, there was a scream. Just as Xie Lian was about to speak, the girl swiftly slapped him across the face, yelling, "Molder!"
With a "slap", Xie Lian was slapped.
The slap was so loud and clear that half of the faces of the two people squatting on the altar twitched at the same time.
Xie Lian didn't get angry after receiving a blow. He simply thrust his coat into her and whispered something quickly. The girl was startled. She touched her back, and her face suddenly flushed red. Tears welled up in her eyes. Whether it was anger or shame, she clutched the coat Xie Lian had given her, covered her face, and ran away, leaving Xie Lian standing there, thin and frail. The temple was deserted, a cool breeze blowing through the hall, and suddenly, it felt a little chilly.
He rubbed his face, turned around, and said to the two little guys, "Okay. It's okay."
As soon as he finished speaking, Nan Feng pointed at him and said, "You...is your wound broken?"
Xie Lian lowered his head and said, "Oh."
He took off his clothes, revealing a body of skin as fine as mutton-fat jade, but his chest was tightly bound with layers of white cloth, and even his neck and wrists were wrapped with bandages. Countless tiny wounds protruded from the edges of the white bandages, which was really shocking.
Thinking his twisted neck was almost healed, Xie Lian began to unwrap the bandages one by one. Fu Yao glanced at him and asked, "Who?"
Xie Lian asked, “What?”
Fuyao asked, "Who is fighting against you?"
Xie Lian: "Battle? No."
Nanfeng: "Then your injuries are..."
Xie Lian said bewilderedly, “I fell on my own.”
“…”
This was the injury he sustained when he rolled down from the mortal world three days ago. If he had fought against someone, he wouldn't have been injured to this extent.
Fuyao muttered something, but I couldn't hear it clearly. It certainly wasn't a compliment to his strength, so Xie Lian didn't ask any more questions and finished untying the thick bandage from his neck. The next moment, Nanfeng and Fuyao's gazes fixed on his neck.
A black collar was wrapped around his snow-white neck.
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