Chapter Twenty-Two: The Rescue

Atop Bottle Mountain, though the forest was thick and tangled with brambles, making it nearly impossible for an ordinary person to find their way once trapped within, with the Six-Winged Golden Centipede at his command, these impassable dangers were as nothing to Li Yang—he traversed them as if walking on level ground, utterly unimpeded. Along the way, as he hurried back and forth across the mountain’s perilous places, his harvest was bountiful: countless centuries-old herbs and even a few rare millennium-old medicinal kings.

Riding atop the Six-Winged Golden Centipede, soaring through the void, the wind brushing against his face, Li Yang cut a dashing figure. Only the awkward pouches slung over his shoulders seemed out of place, but he paid them no mind. The excitement of his haul filled him with elation.

As dusk fell, a thought flickered in Li Yang’s mind. The creature beneath him suddenly spiraled upward, transforming into a streak of black shadow swept along by a fierce wind, heading straight for the mountain peak.

In mere moments, he had reached the cavern of the ancient tomb. Yet the place was utterly deserted, the only trace left was the wreckage scattered about—no sign of a soul. A chill crept into Li Yang’s heart; his eyes narrowed as a sense of foreboding arose within him.

“We’re heading down the mountain.”

With a light tap of his foot, the Six-Winged Golden Centipede answered, darting off toward the direction of the Bottle Mountain mortuary.

“Ma Zhenbang! You bastard!”

From afar, Li Yang heard Old Luo’s furious roar, and his heart skipped a beat. So close—he’d nearly missed something critical. In the original tale, Old Luo died at the hands of a Nationalist army colonel. Though gruff and crude, in his recent encounters, Li Yang had found him to be a man of loyalty and brotherhood. Li Yang even planned to rely on Luo’s influence to help gather cultivation resources—he certainly didn’t want anything to befall him.

“Enough talk. It was my carelessness that landed me in your trap. Do what you will—kill me or flay me, but Li Yang will avenge us!”

“Kill a pest like you? I needn’t sully my own hands… As for revenge, hmph—if he dares come, I promise I’ll turn him into a beehive…”

Even before he arrived, Li Yang could already make out the voices below. Anxious, he urged the centipede to spread its six wings, streaking through the air like a bolt of black lightning.

A thunderous roar erupted.

“Oh? Who do you plan to turn into a beehive?” Before Ma Zhenbang’s words had even faded, Li Yang, astride the Six-Winged Golden Centipede, dove down at breakneck speed, trailing sonic booms behind him. The gusts swept through the crowd, knocking men and horses sprawling.

Hovering in midair atop the beast, descending from the sky, Li Yang made Ma Zhenbang’s heart hammer wildly. As a Nationalist colonel, he’d seen his share of strange people and wonders, but never before had he witnessed a man commanding a monstrous creature, flying through the air. Such things were heard of only in legends and old tales.

“Who… who are you?”

With a supernatural being suddenly descending from the heavens—and on the enemy’s side, no less—how could he not be filled with dread? The armies he once prided himself on seemed laughable in the face of this. Suppressing his fear, Ma Zhenbang stammered out the question.

“Brother Li, you’re finally here. Any later and I, Old Luo, would have lost my life right here,” Old Luo cried with delight, his spirits soaring after the storm had passed and seeing Li Yang’s form in the sky.

“So you’re the wandering sorcerer Yang mentioned—Li Yang?”

By now, Ma Zhenbang had collected himself, forcing courage into his voice.

“If there’s no other Li Yang here, then I suppose that’s me,” Li Yang replied with a soft laugh, casting a reassuring glance at Old Luo and the others.

“The world is in chaos, and those who adapt thrive. Since you have such talents, Daoist Li, why not lend me a hand? Riches, glory, all could be yours—far better than consorting with a rogue like Old Luo.” Seeing Li Yang did not attack immediately, Ma Zhenbang’s fear diminished, and his words grew steadier.

“I am a man outside your worldly affairs, Colonel Ma. I have no fate with your riches and titles. Please release Commander Luo and his men from Changsheng Mountain. What do you say?” Li Yang’s reply was cold and indifferent—he saw straight through Ma Zhenbang’s intentions.

“Think carefully, Daoist Li…” Ma Zhenbang glanced at the guns and cannons wielded by his soldiers, his confidence swelling. In his mind, Li Yang hesitated only out of fear of their firepower. The centipede, no matter how fierce, was but a beast—guns would reduce it to pulp in an instant. He realized his terror stemmed only from Li Yang’s spectacular entrance. With that thought, his fear receded and his composure returned.

“No amount of good advice can save one determined to die.” Li Yang shook his head, his patience worn thin, and his eyes grew cold.

A muffled rumble sounded.

“Protect Commander Luo and the others!” Li Yang called out softly, flicking his sleeve. Instantly, the golden toad soared into the air, expanding to the size of a truck and crashing to the ground, scattering men like leaves in a gale.

“Brothers! Open fire…” Scrambling to his feet, Ma Zhenbang straightened his crooked cap and shouted in panic.

“Hmph! Fools who know not their end!” Raised in modern times, Li Yang had always harbored a certain aversion to killing, but as his power grew, so did his decisiveness. To survive in such chaos, some acts of force were unavoidable.

A black cloud blotted out the sky.

The three pairs of transparent wings on the centipede’s back unfurled, its yard-long body turning into a streak of black as it darted through the air. Mist seeped from its body, and soon a mass of black cloud veiled the moon and stars overhead.

Gunfire erupted in the darkness, but the entire courtyard was plunged into utter blackness, so thick one could not see their own hand. Amid the chaos, only the flashes of gunfire striking the centipede’s body could be seen, sparking brilliant bursts of light in the gloom.

A hissing roar split the air, deafening all present. The centipede writhed within the black cloud like a dragon, its head appearing and vanishing at random.

Suddenly, the dark cloud dispersed, as if alive, transforming into a rolling miasma that engulfed the mortuary below.

“Help!”

“Ahh!”

“Spare me!”

“No—!”

In an instant, the open ground before the mortuary became a hellscape—a chorus of wails, pleas, and cries of pain echoed as the poisonous fog churned. Heaven and earth were shrouded in dusk, the deadly miasma never ceasing.

Li Yang stood atop the centipede, expressionless, his cold gaze enough to chill the heart of any onlooker.

A quarter of an hour later, the centipede arched upward, opening its jaws wide. The miasma in the air was sucked in like water drawn by a dragon, all of it swallowed down.

When the black cloud finally cleared, only devastation remained—gleaming white bones, stripped of flesh and marrow.

Retching sounds spread, growing into a chorus. Whether bandit or soldier, all had seen bloodshed and corpses before, but the infernal scene before them proved too much—even the hardened could not help but vomit.

“Useless lot! What are you puking for? Haven’t you seen enough carnage following me, Old Luo? Look at you cowards—someone untie me already!” Tied to a pillar, Old Luo, seeing his men’s state, felt ashamed and berated them loudly.

“My apologies, Commander Luo. The brothers have been worn thin by fear and exhaustion. To be unsettled by such a sight is only natural,” said Chen Yulou, stepping forward to untie Old Luo and offer some comfort.

Li Yang withdrew the centipede and walked across the courtyard. As a breeze swept through, the white bones crumbled to dust and scattered in the wind.

The centipede’s venom was truly savage—even the marrow had been dissolved, leaving only a pile of weathered residue.

“Brother Li, you arrived just in time. Any later and my life would’ve been forfeit.”

“My thanks, Brother Li, for saving us.” Just then, Old Luo and Chen Yulou came over, supporting each other.

“Forgive me, Commander Luo, Chief Chen—the mountain’s beauty distracted me, and I lost track of time, causing you all distress.” Seeing their battered, shaken faces, Li Yang clasped his hands in apology.

“No need for apologies, Brother Li. But let me tell you, with all your abilities, why waste time with all that fancy scholar’s talk?” Old Luo waved him off, grumbling.

“Old Luo, not everyone is like you—so coarse and unruly. No wonder you’re still so wayward at your age. If Brother Li were like you, that would be a real shame.” Chen Yulou shot Old Luo a glare, exasperated.

Li Yang merely laughed softly at their bickering, choosing not to intervene.

“Brothers, we’ve all suffered a fright today. Once we’re back on Changsheng Mountain, we’ll split the gold and silver fairly and feast with wine and meat!” After tallying the men, Chen Yulou stood atop a platform and shouted, drawing cheers from the crowd.

“By the way, brothers, has anyone seen that dog, Xiao Yang? I must have been blind, showing mercy and taking in such a beast.” At that moment, Old Luo strode to the stage and shouted the question.

The men below exchanged glances—none had seen him.

“No need to fret, Commander Luo. That traitor has already met his end in my centipede’s belly,” Li Yang said, seeing Old Luo’s anger.

“Thank you, Brother Li. Forgive my family’s misfortune and for troubling you to cleanse my house.” Old Luo forced a bitter smile, clasping his hands in gratitude.