ATEG Chapter 106.1

The lake in the night remained as calm as ever, not a single ripple disturbing its surface.

During the day, the lake water was so clear you could see straight to the bottom, but come nightfall, the mirror-smooth surface reflected all the starlight and moonlight instead. Soft radiance seemed to diffuse from the lake’s surface, as if the deep valley cradled a pool of moonlight.

This was an extremely beautiful scene, but unfortunately, beneath the lake’s luminous glow, a faint tinge of blood color dissolved within, and this inevitably caused a chill to seep into the scenery. The blood-tinged moonlight concealed what lay beneath the lake’s surface. One figure after another came from all directions to the lakeside, the rustling sounds of their hems and shoes brushing through the grass converging together, yet no one made a sound.

Wencha walked to the front. He wore garments of multicolored weaving, their patterns not dyed or embroidered but woven directly with colored threads as the cloth was made. Red, yellow, black, blue… stripes, checks, and diamond patterns interlaced in an orderly arrangement, forming a kind of regulated beauty. The hat he wore was the same—a hat of very particular design, neither round nor square, with a flat ridge at the top, somewhat resembling a roof beam. The hat also bore those same woven, regular colored patterns, but on the very top of the ridge, an additional embroidered image depicted a strange beast, its body resembling both sheep and deer, its head bearing a single horn.

In his hand he held a wooden staff. The staff’s body branched into twigs from which hung nine silk ribbons of different colors, each ribbon’s end tied with a bell. Holding this wooden staff, Wencha walked to the position closest to the lakeside. The luminous moonlight reflected from the lake illuminated him with a hazy glow, and the silk ribbons on the staff were gently swayed by the night breeze, yet the bells at their ends made no sound.

Da Wu also stood in a forward position, with Old Grandmother beside him. Old Grandmother’s hair was completely white, bound into a small bun at the back of her head, her shoulders and back slightly hunched. She didn’t look well, having been helped here by Da Wu. Though called Old Grandmother, she was not actually Da Wu’s grandmother but his grandmother’s grandmother. At her age, though there were some cultivator’s methods to make up for it, the loss of vital energy and blood could no longer be easily recovered as it could be for the young. At a time like this, she should have been in her room resting, sleeping peacefully through the night, yet she still insisted on coming to the lakeside.

There was no smile on Old Grandmother’s face, nor could Da Wu manage one. Offering sacrifice to the totem was originally a joyful matter, requiring no solemnity, no need to make it particularly grand. It was the totem—connected to them by blood, an elder and kin, not needing to be held high above, just like Old Grandmother at home. In every past sacrifice, there had been bonfires, dancing, the music of bells, contests, unrestrained laughter and curses, and even people weeping aloud to vent their emotions, but never this kind of oppression.

But now… they could only hope this sacrifice would end smoothly and peacefully, and that they could find a way to thoroughly resolve this situation.

The wooden staff in Wencha’s hand rose high, then struck down heavily. The staff’s end struck the lake surface heavily, yet as if striking solid ground, it sank less than two finger-widths deep before stopping. The surface water was struck outward by the staff, scattering like fragments of moonlight. With the staff as the center, ripples of moonlight spread outward in waves, one transmitting to another, awakening the silent lake.

Amid the splashing moonlight and one trace after another of shimmering waves, the nine bells on the staff suddenly rang in unison.

Nine silk bells rang—the sacrifice began.

The nine bells each had different tones and pitches, sounding rhythmically on the staff, composing ancient, simple, and ethereal bell music. Led by the nine bells, the people at the lakeside gradually began to produce bell sounds as well.

Every villager wore a bell, and every bell was different. High or low, clear or turbid, the bell sounds gradually arose, merging into the bell music.

Like tiny streams merging into a creek, gradually gathering into a rushing great river, the music changed from light and graceful to magnificent. The fine breeze whipped flowers and leaves into a wild dance, tranquil mist suddenly raised towering waves—like ethereal and delicate stars gathering together to form the vast and boundless starry river!

And in this environment where everyone’s body rang with bells, the two people who remained silent became particularly conspicuous.

But once the nine silk bells rang and the sacrifice began, it could no longer be interrupted.

Outside the crowd, a villager hurried over. Seeing the sacrifice had already begun, he paced back and forth anxiously several times in place.

He was the person Da Wu had assigned to watch Ding Qin and Bai Hong. The village was at a critical juncture—two strangers of unknown background had arrived, and he couldn’t possibly leave them unattended. He had long since assigned someone to monitor their movements. But he had just discovered that Ding Qin and Bai Hong had disappeared.

The only one who could make the two of them disappear right under his nose was Wencha. And what Wencha wanted them for didn’t need guessing.

He had rushed as fast as he could, wanting to notify Da Wu, but was still a step too late.

The sacrifice, once begun, could not be interrupted. This was not out of propriety but because after the sacrifice began, the bell sounds would form a kind of power that bound all participants in the sacrifice together. If the sacrifice were forcibly interrupted in its early stages, those participating would inevitably be injured. And if one waited a bit longer, after the sacrifice’s power solidified, it would be fundamentally impossible to interrupt—at least he didn’t have the power to interrupt it.

In just the brief moment of his hesitation, the bell sounds had already gathered into music. He stood outside the crowd of sacrificers, separated by less than three steps, yet was already unable to approach. Sound like a tide of waves kept him on the shore.

Now he no longer needed to hesitate about whether to interrupt the sacrifice—he was already unable to interrupt it, unable to inform Da Wu.

But Da Wu already knew. He not only knew that Ding Qin and Bai Hong were not in the rooms he had arranged, but also knew where they were—they were right in the sacrificial procession. Two people with unrelated bloodlines who wore no bells imbued with totem power stood out in the sacrifice like icebergs on the sea.

But now he was equally powerless. The sacrifice had already begun.

The bell music like a tide drew upon and connected the spiritual essence between heaven and earth, forming a vast and mighty presence, yet it only covered the sacrificial grounds. Ten zhang beyond the lakeside, the night remained quietly unchanged.

Within ten zhang, people devoutly sang the sacrificial words in the bell music, their archaic song calling to the totem hidden in the lake.

This kind of sacrifice didn’t show the ferocity typical of blood sacrifice and evil methods. Instead, it was full of solemn and dignified meaning. Though ordinary human minds were complex and mixed, a ritual could condense them into one body, so that at the same time and place, they prayed toward the same intention—wasn’t this also a kind of shock?

“Can you tell what their totem is?” Bai Hong secretly asked through divine sense.

Ding Qin answered through divine consciousness. “I feel like it’s Xiezhi, but…”

Xiezhi was a strange beast famous from very early on, but there had never been any word of him transforming into a totem with a group of people connected to him by blood. Some totems were born from chance encounters, but such chances generally either involved beings like Xuanniao who were born as totems, or some strange beast that formed a connection with a tribe while still weak and thus became a totem. Xiezhi was not born a totem. He was a very powerful strange beast and wouldn’t form connections with some tribe for no reason. He could actively grant some people the power of his bloodline and thus become their totem, but for such a powerful strange beast, what need was there to do this?

The sacrifice continued in an orderly manner, the rhythm of the people’s song lyrics ancient and simple.

“…
“The lake water bright and clear, let it not become turbid or muddy, this is where Saichi dwells.
“The bright mirror luminous and pure, let it not become dim or obscured, this is where Saichi rests.
“…”

The lyrics were sung in their unique language. Having lived in the village for these several days, with their divine consciousness, Ding Qin and Bai Hong had learned this language quite thoroughly.

The lake water is pure—do not let it become polluted and filthy, for it is where Saichi resides.
The bright mirror is clear—do not let it become dim and murky, for it is where Saichi rests.

Saichi was their totem and also their name. They praised him with pure lake water and clear bright mirrors, yet blood sacrifice was still blood sacrifice. No matter how moving the prelude, it would eventually proceed to the brutal part.

The villagers’ blood and flesh fell into the lake water, and the moon-bright lake dissolved more and more blood color. Every villager made a sacrifice. Those with unhealed injuries and the elderly like Old Grandmother did the same, but for these weak villagers, Wencha used a hot, dark red bone needle to pierce their fingertips, taking a single drop of blood to fall into the lake water, and they had participated in the blood sacrifice.

The blood color in the lake grew thicker and thicker, gradually revealing the silhouette of a strange beast. This silhouette became clearer as the blood color intensified—four feet, single horn, resembling both sheep and deer, exactly the appearance embroidered on the top of Wencha’s hat.

Gradually, every person participating in the sacrifice had added a few traces of blood color to the lake, including Wencha who was presiding over the sacrifice—all except the two guests with different bloodlines.

Wencha looked toward Ding Qin and Bai Hong, slowly bowing slightly, and said, “The sacrificial ritual is almost complete. Would you two please also participate?”

Bai Hong’s phoenix eyes lifted, and she laughed coldly. “So this is what you’re after!”

The power of the sacrifice had already gathered magnificently. As the ritual’s presider, Wencha could make use of this power. The ritual had its steps, and steps were like rules. This power wrapped around them layer upon layer like nets, compelling those in the sacrifice to complete the ritual according to his will.

Wencha still bent slightly at the waist, appearing deeply apologetic. “This is the sacrificial ritual. Haven’t you two been curious about the village’s secrets and the totem? I’ve brought you both to participate in our sacrifice—isn’t this now a good opportunity to understand? It’s just a single drop of blood and won’t cause any harm. Don’t people bleed when they fight or wrestle? What harm is there in bleeding here?”

The people by the lake stirred at these words.

“Wencha!” Old Grandmother shouted sternly. “Release them. This is not what we should be doing!”

“What I should be doing is ensuring the village can continue to exist, not filling our lives bit by bit into the lake.” Wencha said.

Old Grandmother pointed at the lake, her arm trembling, gasping urgently, “Look at the totem! Look—is this what the totem wishes to see?!”

The totem’s reflection in the lake had already become clear down to the finest detail, even faintly emanating an aura.

Xiezhi. This was the legendary strange beast that could perceive human hearts and distinguish right from wrong.

“To think… that Xiezhi became a totem.” Bai Hong murmured softly.

Legend said that Xiezhi was a strange beast born from the reincarnation of souls with firm and upright character. Whether this was true or false was unknown, but it showed Xiezhi’s temperament. Why would such a strange beast establish a clan?

“Using blood sacrifice to sustain life is already the limit. You want to take outsiders’ blood and flesh—this is changing the totem’s will!” Old Grandmother said angrily. They had already discussed this matter privately. She actually didn’t want to argue with Wencha about blood sacrifice in front of all the villagers.

Blood sacrifice, this kind of evil method, was a method of harming others to benefit oneself. The villagers performed blood sacrifice to save the totem, harming themselves to benefit the totem. Though people’s characters naturally contained the selfless aspect of sacrificing themselves to benefit others and the kind aspect of being unwilling to harm others, this went against the instinct of living beings. The nature of all beings was self-interest—eating and grasping were instincts. Xiezhi was their totem. Growing among hemp, one becomes straight without support. The villagers surely had many who would rather harm themselves than hurt the innocent. But if you said everyone in the village would rather die themselves than use innocent outsiders for blood sacrifice… this was contrary to the nature of all living beings.

Some things were fine as long as they weren’t spoken aloud, but once they were said, people’s hearts couldn’t return to how they were.

Xiezhi’s innate divine ability was to perceive hearts and distinguish right from wrong, and this was also his fundamental nature and intention. Cultivation was in the heart. The methods of magical cultivation in this world were all different. Some only cared about the path of techniques, requiring aptitude, spiritual essence, and all sorts of conditions. Others only cared about the heart, unrelated to aptitude and all other external forces, like the orthodox methods of the Mingdeng Sect and the precept-keeping methods practiced by Marquis Wu. Xiezhi’s innate divine ability was the second kind. Xiezhi was currently in his weakest state, powerless to do much about many things. Because he was connected by blood to his clan, he was even more easily influenced by his clanspeople. As Old Grandmother said, accepting blood sacrifice from his own clanspeople to sustain life was already the limit. If Xiezhi took the blood and flesh of others to sustain himself, it would likely change his will and destroy his divine ability.

“Why resist change?” Wencha said. “Unchanging stubbornness is not a good thing. A grub must shed its old shell to become a cicada, flying from underground where it never saw daylight up into the sky. A caterpillar must form a cocoon before it can grow wings, transforming from clumsy crawling to graceful flight. Unchanging means death. Even if we sacrifice everyone in the clan, could we really save the totem? Better to let us change together with the totem.”

The crowd’s agitation grew greater. Old Grandmother became so angry that her breathing became uneven, and she coughed repeatedly.

Ding Qin looked at him deeply and asked, “Are you certain we have no method to resolve the totem’s problem?”

“I’m not certain.” Wencha said. “I hope more than anyone that you can produce a solution, but I need a layer of insurance. Without insurance, I dare not trust the method you give. You already know why I dare not trust easily.”

He had no intention of taking Ding Qin and Bai Hong’s lives. He only wanted to use this rare opportunity to open a crack in the matter of blood sacrifice. Two drops of blood would be enough. He and his people could hardly find opportunities to leave the valley. If they missed this chance, who knew when they might find outsiders again. If he could obtain another method from these two, that would be best. If not, this opportunity wouldn’t be completely wasted. Furthermore, even if they eventually reached the point of having to harm outsiders’ lives for blood sacrifice, he wouldn’t choose difficult targets like Ding Qin and Bai Hong. In this chaotic world, worthless lives were most abundant—why go to the death offending the powerful?

“Can’t your divine ability see our intentions?” Ding Qin asked again.

“I cannot see. I see you the same way I saw Bie Chunian back then. So I cannot trust you.” Wencha said.

“But even young Gelowa can see our intentions. On the very first day we came here, he asked us to help find his sister.” Ding Qin looked directly at Wencha. Her speech was calm and clear, yet it pressed down on Wencha like a thunderclap.

Wencha’s face suddenly paled. He understood the meaning of these words. If even Gelowa, still a child, could see while he could not, it could only mean… it could only mean… he had already lost his innate divine ability! Had the totem withdrawn his ability? Had he already been abandoned by the totem?

The others had also grasped the implication beneath these words. Many looked at Wencha in disbelief.

Old Grandmother sighed. “Wencha. We can all see that these two young ladies are not evil people. You’ve already taken the wrong path. Turn back now—there’s still time.”

Wencha’s face grew even paler. He gripped the wooden staff tightly, the wounds on his arm splitting open, blood seeping out. A person who had lost his innate divine ability could no longer be responsible for the village’s ritual sacrifices. He seemed to age ten years in an instant, his face flashing with dejection, frustration, and pain. But after struggling, his eyes condensed an unshakeable stubbornness.

“I cannot be a sinless good person. I can only be a sinner who does right by the village.” He gripped the wooden staff in his hand, his stubborn gaze looking toward Ding Qin and Bai Hong. “This sacrifice is still being presided over by me. Please, you two, lend me two drops of blood!”

The heavy sacrificial power condensed in the air. Bai Hong stepped forward against this intimidation, laughing coldly. “You really think we’re at your mercy?”

The intimidation transformed into pressure. Wencha didn’t retreat a half step, using the sacrificial power to press down on Bai Hong like the valley’s four sides collapsing.

Da Wu forcefully withstood the aftershocks, wanting to stop Wencha, but the pressure split off a thread to press toward Old Grandmother, and Da Wu could only protect Old Grandmother first. He looked anxiously at the two confronting each other.

Bai Hong’s aura was fierce. The white feathered robes on her arms billowed in the wind, dancing wildly with cold light flashing. Wencha commanded the sacrificial power, the silk bells on his wooden staff shaking ceaselessly, majestic pressure rising with the ringing bell music.

At this hair-trigger moment, the lake that people had overlooked suddenly showed a disturbance.

The shadow of Xiezhi in the lake transformed from void to solid, breaking through the lake surface and shooting rapidly toward the sky. He almost seemed to be fleeing for his life from the lake. The reason quickly became clear to all—following close behind Xiezhi, a sharp blade light carrying the momentum of a thunderbolt came slashing down!

Clouds formed under Xiezhi’s feet, and he swiftly changed position in midair. The blade light had no visible source. Though Xiezhi dodged it and it lacked follow-through, before dissipating in midair, its power was nearly enough to split the sky!

In just this flash of lightning and spark of flint, no one had time to react. The villagers were already shocked. This lake was where Xiezhi rested and recuperated—where had this blade light come from?

“This is…” Ding Qin’s pupils suddenly contracted.