Chapter 153: A Pack of Lies

The so-called method of "killing the shoulder" is related to folkloric tales originating from the ancient State of Yue.

Generally, when building an arch bridge, the piers are constructed first, followed by the bridge body built from both sides toward the center.

When the two sides of the bridge body meet, the placement of the final wedge-shaped cornerstone is of paramount importance; the success or failure of the bridge-building endeavor hangs entirely on this single moment.

People call this wedge-shaped stone the "shoulder stone," meaning it must bear a heavy load just like a human shoulder, and the act of placing this wedge-shaped stone is called "killing the shoulder."

According to legend, on the night of "killing the shoulder," the master bridge builder is destined to suffer a bloody disaster!

If one wishes to avert the calamity of the "killing the shoulder" night, they must run out into the street in the dead of night and shout out. If anyone answers the call, the catastrophe of the "killing the shoulder" night will be transferred to the person who responded.

Fang Mu rubbed his chin and glanced back at the wooden bridge: "This is a wooden bridge."

Since it was a wooden bridge, where would any stone come from?

"Huang San built many bridges, and this was his most cherished creation," Jiankong explained leisurely. "However, the bloody disaster did not happen to a wooden bridge, but rather to a stone bridge. Because this wooden bridge was his proudest work, it transformed into his obsession after his death."

Fang Mu pondered aloud: "How did he die?"

"He failed to break the taboo of the 'killing the shoulder' night," Jiankong chanted a Buddhist name and said. "On the first day, he successfully transferred the curse. On the second day, strange occurrences happened again, so he went looking for another scapegoat. This cycle repeated endlessly, and he harmed more and more people. Some of those pale bodies beneath the bridge were victims of his doing."

"When there was no one left to harm, his turn finally came?" Fang Mu asked.

Jiankong shook his head and replied, "No, it happened that he crossed paths with this poor monk, and this poor monk slew him."

Fang Mu walked over to the edge of the bridge, gazed at the now empty and desolate river water below, and asked, "Some of them were harmed by him, but what about the rest? No, what about all those others?"

Those densely packed, pale bodies were enough to trigger anyone's trypophobia; there was no way they were all killed by Huang San alone.

If he possessed such strength to silently slaughter so many people, he would have been exposed long ago.

Jiankong sighed, a look of regret in his eyes. "This matter was this poor monk's fault. At the time, this poor monk did not consider things thoroughly. Those first two victims transformed into anomalies and escaped. Later on, those two anomalies became this poor monk's fatal trial."

Fang Mu's gaze narrowed slightly, signaling Jiankong to continue.

Jiankong recounted, "They sought revenge. They flooded the entire city, causing countless casualties. In the end, I stopped that flood, but I also sustained severe injuries and ultimately perished."

"Yet, what is the purpose of all these things you are telling me?" Fang Mu frowned and asked.

From beginning to end, Jiankong had merely been explaining the origin and outcome of the flood, which contrasted greatly with the notion of the Land of Ultimate Bliss established earlier.

"Alas," Jiankong sighed. "Because this poor monk was a Xuanist, my obsession after death was even greater. I transformed into an anomaly, turning this place into a region of ultimate anomalies centered around me. However, there is a very critical circumstance."

At this point, a look of pain crossed Jiankong's face as he continued, "I gathered the anomalies formed from suffering souls, never expecting to encounter true adversaries—people like Huang San."

Fang Mu let out an "oh," listening to Jiankong while his mind spun rapidly.

Jiankong took two steps forward, reaching the riverbank, and stared fixedly at the empty river water. "Most of those suffering souls were harmed by anomalies. After their deaths, I gathered them here, never realizing that the very anomalies which had harmed them were also here, becoming a shackle that restrained me."

Fang Mu smiled and said, "You mean to say that you ended up being restricted instead."

Jiankong nodded. "Indeed. That is why this poor monk told the benefactor to turn back. This place is too dangerous, and this poor monk cannot guarantee the benefactor's safety."

"What if I insist on going forward?" Fang Mu asked.

Jiankong pressed his palms together in a salute. "This poor monk has already spoken my piece. Everything depends entirely on the benefactor's own will."

In the blink of an eye, Jiankong dissolved into an illusory shadow and slowly vanished into thin air.

Ahead lay an ink-black void, plunged in absolute darkness.

Fang Mu did not press forward; instead, he fell into deep contemplation.

"Master," Ghost One hesitated for a moment before speaking. "There is something I am unsure whether I should say."

"Between you and me, is there anything that cannot be said?" Fang Mu waved his hand. "Speak."

Ghost One said solemnly, "Master, not a single word uttered by an anomaly can be trusted."

"Oh?" Fang Mu prompted. "What is the reasoning behind that?"

"As the saying goes, ghosts tell endless lies, and that refers precisely to anomalies," Ghost One organized his thoughts and explained. "Once a person becomes an anomaly, they fundamentally violate their original living state. They can no longer be called human; their personality, thoughts, and behaviors have all undergone distortion."

Hearing this, Fang Mu teased, "Much like yourself back then, right?"

What was meant as a mere jest elicited a solemn nod from Ghost One.

Ghost One said with utmost gravity, "When this subordinate was an anomaly, although I held the utmost reverence for you, every single step I took was aimed at killing you, and that final trial was designed for you long in advance."

Fang Mu murmured an acknowledgment, shifted topics, and asked, "How do you think we should proceed now?"

At the mention of this, Ghost One immediately turned serious, as if every subsequent word were a matter of life and death.

He believed this was a test from his master, and he had to devise a foolproof strategy.

After a brief silence, Ghost One slowly said, "Master, this subordinate believes we have no other choice left except to push forward, cutting through the thorns and pressing on unflinchingly. There is no retreat behind us.

"Since the monk told us to leave, there might be an even graver situation lingering behind us. Right now, the enemy is in the dark while we are in the light. Retreating is fraught with danger, but advancing is equally perilous. This subordinate believes we should press forward."

"Why?" Fang Mu frowned and asked.

Ghost One respectfully replied, "It is a choice between two options. This subordinate speculates that if the monk told us to retreat, there might be an even greater danger lurking behind us. This is merely a conjecture."

Dealing with probabilities, Ghost One felt the odds favored moving forward.

After all, the monk was an anomaly, and since an anomaly urged them to retreat, there was likely an even greater hazard waiting in their wake.

Fang Mu nodded and waved his hand. "Then let us move."

Ghost One was stunned. Had his master agreed with his reasoning?

In truth, Fang Mu's decision was not solely based on the evaluation of danger. Now that they had come this far, just as Ghost One had said, advancing and retreating carried equal risk, so they might as well push forward.

There was another reason as well: Fang Mu was rather eager to get his hands on this monk.

Not for anything else, but to see what kind of spoils he could harvest from touching him.

The path ahead was pitch-black, devoid of both bridge and water, replaced entirely by flat ground.

The path was long—a muddy country trail, as if rain had only recently fallen.

Dense forests lined both sides of the road, from which the occasional chirping of birds echoed.

As Fang Mu and Ghost One walked, the muddy path wound onward before suddenly opening up into a wider expanse.

At the end of the path ahead, a village loomed faintly in the distance.