Chapter 83
Mianshan Daluo Palace, Liyuan
Chapter 83 Mianshan Daluo Palace, Liyuan
Li Yuan looked at Wei Shufen, and the smile in his gentle eyes deepened.
That smile was as faint as a distant mountain, yet as deep as an ancient well. It wasn't because his smile was particularly obvious, but because something in his eyes had been ignited.
That kind of illumination wasn't the illumination of lamps, but rather the indescribable, gradually brightening light that fills the world at dawn—
It's not illuminating anything; it was just there all along, and now it's being seen.
Like the moon rising over the eastern mountains, when all is quiet, the light comes naturally.
Just as the clouds and fog disperse, and the world becomes clear, the light naturally appears.
"This humble Taoist priest has departed from the abyss."
He said softly.
The sound was as light as a feather, falling into the quiet carriage, yet it seemed to touch the hearts of everyone present.
So lightly, as if talking about something trivial—
But those who heard it felt as if they had heard something extraordinary.
There was an indescribable quality in that voice—it wasn't a deliberate attempt to lower it to create mystery, nor was it a deliberate attempt to soften it to make it seem mysterious; rather, it was truly effortless and undetectable.
Like a mountain stream, it simply flows, without asking where it ends; like a forest breeze, it simply blows, without asking where it comes from or goes.
"Mianshan Daluo Palace, Liyuan."
The name, when it reached Wei Shufen's ears, seemed to stir something within her.
Mianshan Mountain.
Daluo Palace.
Li Yuan.
Three words, six characters, like a pebble thrown into an ancient well, stirring up invisible ripples.
The ripples rose from the deepest part of my heart, spreading outwards, layer upon layer, circle upon circle, until they seemed to reach an unknown destination.
She suddenly felt that she had heard this name somewhere before.
But I can't remember.
It was a very strange feeling—
Although we've never met, it feels like we've known each other for a long time; although this is the first time I've heard this name, it feels like I already knew it a long, long time ago, in a very deep dream.
Like a mark etched by fate.
Wei Shufen stood there, looking at the figure in the moon-white Taoist robe before her, looking into those gentle, watery eyes, and a thought suddenly arose in her mind—
Perhaps none of this on the train was ever a coincidence.
It wasn't that she just happened to be on this train.
It wasn't that he just happened to be on this train.
It wasn't that the Gu worms just happened to activate at that moment.
It wasn't that she just happened to be next to him.
Everything seemed to have been planned out in advance.
Everything seemed to be predetermined by fate.
Wei Shufen looked at Li Yuan, her bright black eyes gleaming.
In that light, there was doubt, there was sudden realization, there was something indescribable, like a person standing in the fog who suddenly sees a light ahead, and although they don't know what the light is, they know it is the direction.
"This humble Taoist priest has departed from the abyss."
"Mianshan Daluo Palace, Liyuan."
She murmured the name over and over again, feeling like she'd heard it somewhere before, but couldn't quite place it.
But she quickly suppressed the thought and turned to treat the passengers.
Saving lives is the priority.
Those who are still struggling in pain cannot wait.
"Wait a minute."
Li Yuan's voice came from behind.
The voice was still gentle and calm, neither too loud nor too soft, yet it made Wei Shufen stop in her tracks.
It wasn't that I was ordered or intimidated, but rather that there was something in that voice that made me want to stop and listen.
Wei Shufen turned around, her eyes filled with doubt.
"You just said that this kind of Gu is called Cocoon Gu?"
Wei Shufen nodded: "Yes, the larvae feed on the host's flesh and blood, and emerge from the cocoon after they grow up."
"Although the person who cast the Gu poison has been subdued, the Gu worms have already hatched and are feeding on those people's bodies."
"We must do it as soon as possible—"
Before she could finish speaking, Li Yuan raised his hand to stop her.
The gesture of raising a hand to stop someone was extremely light and subtle, like a willow branch swaying in the wind, rising and falling naturally. There was no sense of pressure, yet it naturally stopped people from speaking.
"As you just said, the person who cast the Gu poison has lost control, and the Gu worms are out of control."
His voice remained as gentle as ever, as if he were simply stating a fact.
"So, what's your treatment method? Will you treat each insect individually, or will you use poison to fight poison?"
Wei Shufen was slightly taken aback.
This pause wasn't because the question was too difficult, but because it was so precise and hit the nail on the head.
She truthfully said, "I will first use silver needles to seal several major acupoints to prevent the Gu worms from continuing to move, and then use a special medicinal powder to force the Gu worms out of their bodies."
"There are just too many people. If they come one by one, I'm afraid—"
She looked at the people slumped in their seats and roughly counted at least thirty.
Even if we rescue them one by one, it will take at least an hour.
The longer the Gu worm stays, the more severe the damage to the host becomes.
The larvae were gnawing at flesh and blood, burrowing deeper and crawling among the people's internal organs.
An hour is enough for them to cause irreversible damage.
Wei Shufen frowned slightly.
She is not afraid of being tired, not afraid of getting dirty, and not afraid of trouble.
What she feared was that it would be too late.
Li Yuan nodded slightly and did not ask any further questions.
He simply turned to face the passengers.
The turning motion was extremely slow and composed.
The moon-white Taoist robe swayed slightly under the dim light, like clouds drifting slowly across the sky, or water flowing quietly over stones.
"Gentlemen."
His voice remained as gentle and calm as ever, neither too loud nor too soft, yet it clearly reached everyone's ears.
The sound had a strange penetrating power—not the kind that pierces eardrums, but the kind that reaches straight to the heart.
Like the tolling of a bell in an ancient temple deep in the mountains, its sound silences all; like the croaking of frogs in a clear pool at midnight, its single cry stills the world.
Close your eyes and calm your mind.
19
"No matter what happens, don't open your eyes and don't panic."
The people in the carriage looked at each other, wondering what the Taoist priest was going to do.
But the scene of the golden light turning into a palm was still deeply imprinted in their minds.
The golden light descending from the sky, the gigantic hand appearing out of nowhere, the thunderous strike—
Those memories are still vivid in my mind.
The moment the golden light appeared, they thought they were dreaming.
The moment that giant hand landed, they thought they were watching a magic trick.
But the person who was slapped unconscious is still slumped in his seat, half of his face swollen like a pig's head, and the blood at the corner of his mouth hasn't dried yet.
That wasn't a dream.
That's not a magic trick.
That's true.
At this moment, the Taoist priest, who could summon golden light and conjure giant palms, instructed them to close their eyes and calm their minds.
No one dared to ask why.
No one dared to hesitate.
Everyone closed their eyes in unison.
Some closed their eyes tightly, their eyelids trembling; others closed them slightly, leaving a tiny gap to peek, but quickly closed them again after taking a quick look.
Those who were just sobbing quietly stopped crying, biting their lips, closing their eyes, and remaining motionless.
The carriage was completely silent.
Only the clattering of wheels on the tracks and the mess on the ground remained, telling the story of the nightmare that had just occurred.
Wei Shufen stood aside, watching this scene, her doubts growing even stronger.
She didn't understand what Li Yuan was going to do.
More than thirty people were infected with the same type of Gu, but the location, depth, and activity level of the Gu worm in each person's body were different.
Some are in the stomach, some in the intestines, some have already burrowed into the liver, and some are crawling towards the heart.
Some of the Gu worms have just hatched and are still small and weak; others have already grown and are devouring flesh and blood.
Even the most experienced Gu master in Qinghe Miao Village would have to diagnose and treat each patient individually, administer medicine one by one, and force out the Gu one by one in this complex situation.
Those Gu worms are all sentient beings.
They can hide, conceal, burrow, and escape.
If you are not careful, all your previous efforts will be in vain.
What can he do all by himself?
Wei Shufen opened her mouth, wanting to ask.
But Li Yuan had already closed his eyes.
The movement of closing the eyes was extremely light and quiet.
Like a lamp quietly going out in the dead of night; like the last ray of moonlight slowly fading away as the moon sets behind the western mountains.
She had no choice but to swallow her words.
But those bright black eyes stared at him without blinking.
She stared at the Taoist priest, whom she couldn't see through.
Staring at the figure in the moon-white Taoist robe.
Staring at that handsome and composed face.
She wanted to see what he was up to.
Li Yuan stood still.
The pale white Taoist robe stood out even more against the backdrop of the chaotic carriage.
The vomit, the dead insects, the collapsed people, the panicked faces—all of it seemed as if an invisible barrier separated him from them.
He is in it, yet he is not tainted by it; he is here, yet he is not trapped by it.
His hands hung naturally at his sides, without any movement.
It just hangs there.
Like a mountain rock, it remains silent, unmoved by wind and rain.
Like an ancient tree reaching for the sky, it remains unchanged regardless of the season.
His lips were slightly closed, and no sound came out.
It was just closed.
Like the water of a deep pool, it remains calm and undisturbed.
Like the moon on an autumn night, silent and still.
But if someone with sufficiently profound spiritual cultivation were present, they could carefully sense it—
You will then discover that the entire carriage is undergoing some indescribable change.
The change was extremely subtle, as subtle as the first gentle breeze of spring.
When the breeze brushes your cheek, you don't even feel its presence. Only when you look back do you realize that something has quietly changed in that moment.
The change was extremely subtle, as faint as the first ray of moonlight on a moonlit night.
When the moonlight falls upon the world, you may not even notice its arrival until you look up at the moon and realize that its light has already enveloped the heavens and the earth.
But it does exist.
It is happening.
That change didn't come from the outside, but from within.
It flowed slowly from the Taoist priest who stood with his eyes closed, from the depths of his brow, from some deeper, more unfathomable place.
Like spring water gushing from the ground, silent yet inexhaustible.
Like clouds rising from the valley, formless and shapeless, yet pervading heaven and earth.
Inside the interior.
The Daluo Palace has stood for ages, majestic and boundless.
It was a palace that could not be described in words. It was not in the sky, nor on the ground, nor in any identifiable place.
It is there, it has been there since time immemorial, and it will be there forever.
Its palaces, layer upon layer, reach straight up to the heavens.
Each floor has countless halls, each hall has countless shrines, and each shrine has countless deities.
The eaves of those palaces, like phoenix wings, stretch out and point straight to the sky; the brackets of those palaces, like layers of clouds, receive the sunlight.
Its foundation is unfathomably deep, reaching down to the Yellow Springs.
The foundation was built of countless huge blue stones, each stone engraved with ancient runes that shimmered with a faint light, like a galaxy beneath the earth.
All the gods are in their proper places, and each is protected by them.
Some of the deities sat in the halls, some stood beside the pillars, and some floated in the void.
They come in all shapes and sizes; some are majestic like mountains and seas, some are compassionate like a spring breeze, some are stern like autumn frost, and some are gentle like spring water.
They were surrounded by a radiant glow.
The light was sometimes reddish-gold, sometimes turquoise, sometimes purplish-gold, and sometimes pure white.
The intertwined rays of light illuminated the entire Daluo Palace, making it resemble a legendary celestial palace.
That moon-like radiance remained clear and perfect, illuminating and encompassing everything.
It hangs in the very center of the Daluo Palace, neither too high nor too low, neither too far nor too near, as if it has been there since time immemorial and will remain there forever.
Its light is soft and not dazzling, gentle and not scorching, shining into every hall, illuminating every shrine, and reaching every corner.
At this moment, deep within that radiant light, countless thoughts were quietly flowing.
Those thoughts, like fish swimming in water, darted back and forth in the light; like clouds in the sky, they drifted slowly across the heavens.
They are so light and faint that they cannot be detected unless one senses them carefully.
But they do exist.
They are circulating.
Li Yuan closed his eyes, his mind sinking into the vast divine court.
That sinking wasn't a downward fall, but a deeper dive.
Like a diver, loosen your hands and let your body slowly sink into the water, sinking deeper and deeper, becoming calmer and calmer.
His thoughts pierced through countless halls and passed over the highest divine positions.
The palaces and halls passed by him one after another. Some were magnificent and resplendent, some were ancient and solemn, some were deep and quiet, and some were bright and dazzling.
In each temple, deities sit enthroned, and light flows around them.
Those divine positions, one after another, flashed before his eyes.
Some sit high above, looking down upon all living beings; some sit low below, gazing up at the heavens; some sit in the center, harmonizing yin and yang; some reside in a corner, governing a corner.
Above the divine thrones, illusory figures of deities sat solemnly, each surrounded by lightning, exuding majesty. The lightning, a purplish-gold color, danced around them, emitting…
A "snap" sound.
Each flash of lightning seemed to carry the power of the beginning of time.
Some held scrolls in their hands, their wisdom as vast as the sea. Those scrolls were made of bamboo slips, inscribed with ancient characters.
Those words, undecipherable by anyone, seemed to contain all the mysteries of the world.
Some were clad in armor, exuding a murderous aura. The armor was cast in bronze and covered with marks from swords and blades.
Those marks record every battle he experienced and bear witness to everyone he protected.
Some have kind and compassionate eyes, filled with boundless pity. Between their brows and eyes, it seems, lies all the suffering in the world; within their compassion, it seems, lies love for all living beings.