Chapter Sixty-Nine: The Nine-Sectioned Staff

Li Zisheng realized at this moment that there must be others in Le City besides himself. Since he had not yet been discovered, he remained safe for the time being; however, any lapse in caution would surely lead to his exposure. After all, it was better for fewer people to know of such grave matters. Though Li Zisheng did not know who had preceded him, it was a burden no one could afford to bear.

Under Li Zisheng's instruction, Baliang followed him cautiously. In truth, even without the order, Baliang would not have dared to act rashly; the sight of the place had already terrified him. Li Zisheng was keenly aware that the danger here reached the very limits of his imagination; one wrong step could result in being ground to dust.

Soon, the two arrived at the fifth pavilion. Just as Li Zisheng had anticipated, the pavilion was covered in bizarre, talisman-like markings. Most notably, in the center of the pavilion sat a wooden block inscribed with the words: "The Year is Jiazi."

Seeing the block, Li Zisheng dared not touch it and began to search the surroundings with great care. Baliang, overcome with cowardice, hid outside the pavilion, not daring to approach.

"It really is here," Li Zisheng sighed to himself. Beneath the table, there stood a small altar-like object holding two pairs of eyeballs. They were a deep, blood-red, as if stained by gore, and they looked incredibly ghastly. Even Li Zisheng felt a wave of nausea. He quickly checked that there was nothing else unusual in the fifth pavilion and hurried with Baliang toward the sixth. Before leaving, however, he made a mental note of the strange markings on the ground; they appeared there for a reason and could not be ignored.

The pair carefully approached the exterior of the sixth pavilion. It was smeared with a bright red liquid similar to that found in the second pavilion, but unlike the previous five, this one emitted a peculiar, overwhelming stench. What astonished Li Zisheng was that the odor seemed to hang in the air, refusing to dissipate. It lingered thick and heavy around the pavilion. He could not fathom how such a feat was achieved, but it was undoubtedly a display of extraordinary skill.

The liquid, now solidified, looked like dried paint. In the center of this pavilion lay another wooden block, this one inscribed with the words: "Great Fortune Under Heaven." Unlike the previous inscriptions, these characters were not embellished with gold powder but were simply carved with a knife, as if the perpetrator had been pressed for time.

Li Zisheng resumed his search. Under the center of the table lay four ears. Two were exceptionally large, curiously resembling those of the Hu people. The sight was so repulsive that Li Zisheng could barely contain his gag reflex. Feeling deeply unsettled, he quickly departed.

Once they were clear of the sixth pavilion’s stench, Li Zisheng’s composure returned. The two then cautiously approached the seventh pavilion. This one differed from the previous six, bearing a Southern architectural style characterized by stark black and white contrasts. Unlike the pungent smell of the sixth, this pavilion was filled with a fragrant aroma. Yet, Li Zisheng’s expression turned grim. A foul odor served as a warning, keeping one alert to the danger, but this sweet scent was a trap—it could catch a person off guard, and what it masked might not be benign; it could even be lethal.

Li Zisheng searched the area while covering his nose and mouth with his robes, forcing himself to breathe shallowly. He warned Baliang not to approach. The reason was simple: the seventh pavilion was devoid of all insects, rodents, and vegetation, yet it was saturated with a thick, heavy perfume. This was clearly unnatural.

Behind the table sat a wooden staff. Unusually, it was carved with nine nodes, each covered in dense, illegible text. Soon, however, Li Zisheng discovered a short passage in small seal script at the base of the staff. Though he was not a scholar, he recognized the writing; it was penned by Zhang Jue. He had taken an interest in it once, and he was grateful for that curiosity now.

"Each of the nine parts represents the Nine; nine times nine makes eighty-one heads. With distinct ends and strange scripts used in secret, they combine into one great root, using the divine as an emissary..."

"The upper twenty-seven can save the world; the middle twenty-seven can command true divine officials; the lower twenty-seven contain many paths."

The text was identical to what he had read in unofficial histories. The staff was known as the Nine-Section Staff, a scepter capable of summoning spirits and commanding ghosts. Holding it was said to grant the authority to manage the Nine People and Nine Qi, to rule over all things in heaven and earth, and to guide souls to the Way. This was the rhetoric Zhang Jue used to delude the masses, yet it was remarkably effective. In those days, the mere sight of this staff could determine one's life or death; its power was immense.

Li Zisheng was now certain of the identity of his predecessor: they were inextricably linked to Zhang Jue and the Yellow Turban tradition. Having realized the individual's identity and their potential schemes, Li Zisheng saw no reason to linger. The fragrance was growing stronger and was undoubtedly toxic. Staying longer would only invite endless trouble, and it was better to leave immediately. Yet, he realized that to walk away now might mean losing a golden opportunity.