booktalesy Chapter 60: The Deadly "Special Mission"
Chapter 60: The Deadly "Special Mission"
The following morning, Qingzhou Prefecture was shrouded in a thin, veil-like autumn mist. The mist, when it touched his face, was cool and refreshing, carrying a damp, earthy scent of grass and trees. Unlike the harsh morning dew of Black Stone Town, it possessed a softer, more gentle quality reminiscent of the misty rain of Jiangnan, though beneath this softness lay an indescribable chill. Lin Yan pulled the corner of his worn blue robe tighter; the damp fabric clung coolly to his wrists. He walked alone through the gradually awakening streets and alleys. The breakfast stalls had just set up their steamers, white steam mingling with the mist, spreading out the warm aroma of rice porridge. But this aroma, upon touching the shadow of the buildings in the west of the city, seemed to freeze, vanishing completely.
That was a branch of the Demon Suppression Division of Qingzhou Prefecture, far more imposing than the small outpost in Blackstone Town. The gate tower was so tall it blocked half the rising sun, and the three gilded characters "Demon Suppression Division" on the ebony plaque, though darkened by the mist, still exuded a sinister aura. Two stone lions stood before the gate, their manes tangled and their eyes, inlaid with black jade, seemed to gleam with a cold light in the mist. Eight guards wore black armor, the plates worn smooth and shiny, yet the edges bore tiny chips—marks of battle. They stood ramrod straight, like eight iron stakes, their breathing so even it was almost inaudible, only occasionally their Adam's apples bobbing, their exhaled breath condensing into a small puff before being quickly swallowed by the mist.
Lin Yan displayed the token of Blackstone Town, the wooden edge smoothed by his hand, still warm from his palm. As the guard took it, the calluses on his fingertips scraped the engravings on the token, the pressure neither too light nor too heavy, yet revealing scrutiny. After Lin Yan announced his identity as "entering the city on official business," the head guard slowly nodded, a soft "click" of his nail clipper signaling his passage. The sound was remarkably clear in the silent morning mist.
Passing through the front courtyard, the dew from last night still lingered on the blue brick floor, making a soft "rustling" sound underfoot. The vermilion doors of the main hall were ajar, a faint scent of sandalwood mingled with the bitter smell of herbs wafting from within—presumably, a cultivator had been healing last night. Beyond the main hall, withered vines climbed the corner of the wall, their leaves mostly fallen, leaving only brown tendrils clinging tightly to the plaster like the sinews of an old dragon. An old handyman led the way, his cloth shoes muddy, his gait slightly limping, a string of keys hanging from his waist, jingling and breaking the excessive silence. "The mission hall is in the west wing. It's secluded there, cool, but a bit dark, so watch your step," the old handyman's voice was hoarse, as if sanded, and he bowed and retreated, his figure quickly disappearing into the mist.
The mission hall was a spacious hall. Stepping inside, a chill enveloped you—not the damp coolness of the mist, but the coldness of the wood. Several thick nanmu pillars, each requiring two people to encircle, supported the roof. The pillars, blackened by time, were engraved with faint runes, presumably for warding off evil. Four ever-burning oil lamps hung on the wall, their wicks burning steadily, their orange flames small yet casting long shadows that flickered on the huge mission board on the wall. The mission board was made of dark wood panels, the edges roughened, and in some places the paint had peeled off, revealing the wood grain beneath, like the wrinkles on an old man's face.
Outside the hall, the sounds of Qingzhou Prefecture were gradually becoming lively—the shouts of flower girls, the neighing of mules and horses, and the "clattering" of silver shop clerks using abacuses. But as soon as these sounds reached the hall's entrance, they seemed to be blocked by an invisible wall, only a few leaking in, making the hall feel even more desolate. Even the air seemed to be frozen, carrying a sense of gloom, like old cotton wool that had been dried in the sun, making one's chest feel heavy.
Lin Yan stood at the doorway, his gaze slowly sweeping across the hall. There were only about a dozen people, mostly huddled in the corners, two or three at a time, heads close together, voices hushed, as if afraid of startling something. Two men leaned against pillars, eyes closed, brows slightly furrowed, fingers unconsciously rubbing the hilts of their swords—the hilts were worn smooth, the marks of years of handling. Only three men were actually standing before the mission list, all thin men in patched leather armor, their fingertips red with cold, scrutinizing the notice word by word, their eyes revealing an undisguised urgency mixed with a touch of numbness.
Lin Yan secretly probed their auras. Most of these people were in the mid-to-late stage of the Body Tempering Realm, their auras fluctuating like candlelight in the wind, unstable. Only one or two had slightly more condensed auras, probably in the early stage of the Profound Realm, but even their auras carried weariness, worn down by long-term toil and hardship. Their faces were either weathered or numb, the fine lines at the corners of their eyes were inlaid with dust, and even their smiles carried a hint of caution—a common ailment among lower-level cultivators, like weeds in a corner, having to desperately squeeze into the cracks in the rocks to survive.
He walked to the task list, his fingertips inadvertently brushing against the wooden board, the cool touch sending a creeping sensation up his fingertips. The notices on the list were sparse, most of them yellowed paper with curled edges like withered leaves, some even stained with oil, suggesting they had been hanging there for a long time. Lin Yan glanced at them one by one, and found that they were all thankless and arduous tasks:
"Thirty li outside the East City, Li Family Village is suspected of being haunted by 'corpse-eating rats' that are gnawing on crops and livestock. Two people at least at the mid-stage of Body Tempering are needed to investigate and exterminate them within five days. Reward: Twenty taels of silver, or one low-grade Body Tempering Demon Core (any type)." The handwriting was crooked and the ink was faded, suggesting that it was hastily written by a minor official.
"The branch arsenal needs five 'Iron-backed Rhinoceros Hide' pieces, with priority given to those that are intact and undamaged. Each piece will be rewarded with fifteen taels of silver." The notice was on a slightly newer piece of paper, but it was frayed at the edges, and there were several fingerprints on the side, indicating that someone had looked at it repeatedly but ultimately did not accept it.
"The City Patrol Division is conscripting cultivators at the Body Tempering Realm to assist with night patrols for a period of one month, with a monthly salary of twelve taels of silver and two meals provided." The handwriting on this piece was the neatest, but the words "two meals provided" were written with extra force, the ink seeping into the grain of the wooden board.
Lin Yan sneered inwardly. This meager reward was barely enough to fill his stomach, let alone buy pills to restore his energy. The carrion rats were sharp-toothed and roamed in packs; even a mid-stage Body Tempering cultivator might not escape unscathed. The iron-backed rhinoceroses had thick hides; a moment's carelessness during a hunt could break their bones. Night patrols were even more dangerous, as demons roamed at night. Twelve taels of silver were essentially money for risking one's life. He suddenly understood the reason for the hall's desolation—the truly lucrative positions were already in the hands of the captains and lieutenants, distributed among their cronies. How could these destitute rogue cultivators possibly have a chance? What hung here were nothing more than scraps, or even poison coated in honey.
He stood still, his intuition spreading out like a fine net. The whispers in the hall then traveled along this net, clearly penetrating his ears.
"...Twenty taels of silver isn't even enough to buy a hemostatic pill. Going to Li Family Village is just playing with your life." It was a younger voice, filled with resentment and helplessness.
"Who says otherwise? Zhang Xiaoshan took on a mining job last month, encountered a cave-in, and lost a leg. The branch only gave him ten taels of silver as compensation. What can that do?" Another voice was even hoarse, and he coughed as he spoke, his body curling up from the cough. "His wife came crying and demanding an explanation, but the gatekeeper kicked her out."
"Shh—" someone hurriedly interrupted, lowering their voice even further, "Don't talk nonsense. Chief Liu's men might be nearby. Without any backing, we can only scavenge for these scraps. A lucrative job? Forget about it."
The words had barely left his lips when the side door creaked open, shattering the silence in the hall. Entering was a middle-aged man, dressed in a grey cloth steward's uniform, his face unusually pale, as if he had never seen sunlight. His eyes were slick, and as he swept his gaze over the crowd, a faint, almost imperceptible, contempt played at the corners of his lips. He held a brand-new notice in his hand; the ink on the rice paper still glistened with moisture, clearly freshly written.
The whispers in the hall ceased instantly, all eyes fixed on the notice in his hand. Those who had been keeping their eyes closed quietly opened them, glancing in that direction out of the corner of their eyes; those leaning against the pillars straightened up, their hands unconsciously clenching. In their eyes, there was a habitual indifference—after all, most new assignments were still lousy jobs—yet hidden a deep expectation, like a tiny spark in the darkness, unwilling to be extinguished even if it was faint.
The steward clearly enjoyed the attention. He cleared his throat, his voice not loud, but deliberately authoritative: "Look carefully, new mission." With that, he walked to the mission board, found the most conspicuous spot, and slapped the notice up. The damp smell of paste mixed with the bamboo scent of Xuan paper wafted through the air.
The brand-new white Xuan paper, amidst the surrounding yellowed old notices, stood out like snowflakes fallen on mud. All eyes were drawn to it, and even their breathing became soft. Lin Yan also looked up and saw that it read:
"Emergency Special Envoy Order to Suppress Bandits"
"Reason: According to intelligence reports, remnants of demon bandits have been gathering and active in 'Black Wind Ravine,' 150 miles west of the city. It is suspected that some cultivators are colluding with low-level demons to rob merchants and endanger the local area."
"Mission: Head to Black Wind Ravine, wipe out the demon bandits, uncover the truth behind the cultivators' collusion, and bring back the bandit leader's token or key evidence."
"Requirements: The team must be led by a cultivator at the Profound Realm or be an elite squad at the Body Tempering Realm."
"Timeframe: Report back within ten days of receiving the order."
"Reward: Five mid-grade spirit stones, or equivalent to ten standard Body Tempering Realm demon cores (any type, must have complete demon power). In addition, those with outstanding achievements may be promoted at the discretion of the supervisor."
The seal at the bottom was a vermilion one from the Demon Suppression Division of Qingzhou Prefecture, square and imposing, and the date below was today.
"Five mid-grade spirit stones!" Someone gasped, their voice trembling. "Ten Body Tempering Demon Cores... That's enough to buy a batch of Qi Gathering Pills!"
"Black Wind Ravine?" The other man's expression changed drastically, his voice trembling. "That awful place again? Last month, the 'Swift Wind Team' from the capital city, twelve skilled fighters, three of whom were at the Transcendent Realm, went there, and very few of them came back!"
The notice was like a stone thrown into stagnant water. First came a suppressed gasp, then murmurs spread silently like moss after rain. For the cultivators in the hall, the reward was like a windfall, enough to make their eyes water with envy. But after the gasps came an even longer silence. Those who had just crowded around quietly took a half-step back, their eagerness fading quickly, replaced by apprehension, like field mice that had seen a snake.
"I heard that the four members of the Gale Team who came back all had broken arms and legs. Captain Wang Hu's head was twisted off by a monster, and when he was found, his face was mangled."
"It wasn't just last month; last year, Deputy Captain Zhao led a group there and lost five men, and they didn't even recover all of their bodies. That place is incredibly eerie; every night a black wind rises, carrying the stench of blood, enough to scatter a person's soul."
"The reward is high, but you have to be alive to claim it. Look at that 'investigate the truth about the cultivators' collusion'—there's more to it than meets the eye. Who knows who might be involved?"
"That's right. 'The person in charge will record the merits at their discretion.' That word 'at their discretion' is a huge trick. This task is probably a hot potato."
The whispers were as low as mosquitoes' buzzes, yet every word was clearly audible in the silent hall. Lin Yan's heart sank. The reactions of these people spoke volumes: Black Wind Ravine was a death trap, the mission a risky gamble, and the claim of "collusion among cultivators" only muddied the waters further. His gaze fell on "ten Body Tempering Realm demon cores," his fingertips slightly cold—this number was exactly the "entrance gift" Liu Xiong had demanded. The location was the Black Wind Ravine, a place everyone feared; the time limit was ten days, four of which would be spent traveling there and back; the remaining time was spent clearing out demon bandits and investigating the truth—it was simply asking the impossible.
It's such a coincidence, it's like a carefully orchestrated scheme.
Just then, a gentle and refined voice came from the doorway, like a spring breeze, yet it instantly froze the air inside the hall: "Hehe, the mission hall is more lively than usual today."
Everyone turned around in unison, and saw Liu Xiong standing with his hands behind his back, still dressed in a dark blue brocade robe, the smooth fabric making his complexion appear even whiter. A smile played on his lips, but his eyes were like deep pools, unfathomable. Behind him followed two black-armored attendants, their armor thick and heavy, making no sound as they walked, their auras as heavy as iron.
The monks inside immediately fell silent, bowing respectfully and saying in a restrained voice, "Greetings, Chief Liu!" A corner of someone's robe swept across the ground, stirring up a speck of dust that floated in the light of the oil lamp.
Liu Xiong waved his hand casually, his gaze seemingly indifferently sweeping over the task list, pausing for a moment on the new notice, like a dragonfly skimming the water, before landing on Lin Yan. His gaze was scrutinizing, yet tinged with "admiration," like a hunter looking at his chosen prey.
"Brother Lin?" He strode towards Lin Yan, the hem of his brocade robe sweeping across the ground without picking up a speck of dust. His smile was as warm as the spring sun. "Indeed, a diligent person. Coming to the mission hall so early, are you eager to share the burden of my Demon Suppression Division, or are you looking for a way to complete that 'entry ceremony'?"
His voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear, like striking a bronze bell, and everyone in the hall could hear it clearly. In an instant, all eyes were on Lin Yan—some were curious, wanting to see who this person who dared to defy Chief Liu at the city gate was; some were inquiring, wondering if he would accept the task; and most were sympathetic and gloating. The rumors from yesterday's city gate had already spread, and everyone knew that Chief Liu had given this newcomer from Blackstone Town a difficult task: to hand over ten demon cores within ten days.
Lin Yan's heart skipped a beat. Liu Xiong had deliberately pushed him into the public eye, cutting off his escape route. He turned around, clasped his hands in greeting, his back ramrod straight, and said in a voice that was neither humble nor arrogant: "Greetings, Commander Liu. I am new here and should familiarize myself with the affairs of the branch. If there are any tasks within my power, I am willing to share the burden."
"Excellent! Very good!" Liu Xiong clapped his hands and chuckled, his voice full of "gratification." "Brother Lin, I am very pleased with your thoughtfulness." He pointed to the new notice, "What do you think of this mission? It's to wipe out the demon bandits of Black Wind Ravine, and the reward is exactly ten Body Tempering Demon Cores. It can both rid the people of a scourge and solve your urgent problem. Isn't it a win-win situation?"
He stepped forward and patted Lin Yan on the shoulder. Liu Xiong's fingers were cool, and the pat on the shoulder was neither too light nor too heavy, yet it carried an undeniable air of authority. "Brother Lin, Black Wind Ravine is indeed dangerous, and several groups of our colleagues have suffered losses in the past." He lowered his voice, as if speaking privately, yet just enough for those around to hear clearly, "But judging from your composed demeanor, I know you are no ordinary person. Although this mission is perilous, with your abilities, you may very well succeed."
He paused, his smile growing more earnest, even his eyes softening, as if he genuinely cared for Lin Yan: "If you're willing to accept, after you succeed, not only will the 'entrance fee' be waived, but all ten demon cores will be yours. You'll be able to showcase your skills and gain merit—this is a rare opportunity. I, the head constable, have high hopes for you."
These words were spoken with heartfelt sincerity, every sentence showing consideration for Lin Yan, perfectly portraying the image of a superior who appreciates a junior. Yet, the hall was deathly silent; even the crackling of the oil lamp could be heard clearly.
Everyone understood Liu Xiong's unspoken message. This wasn't giving Lin Yan a chance; it was clearly pushing him into a fire pit! Black Wind Ravine was a place of near-death experiences; no matter how high the reward, one had to be alive to enjoy it. Chief Liu was clearly trying to use the demon bandits to get rid of this arrogant newcomer. Even if he couldn't eliminate him, he would at least make him suffer greatly and completely submit.
Some people glanced up briefly at Lin Yan before quickly lowering their heads again—their eyes held pity, but no one dared to utter a sound. Everyone knew Liu Xiong's influence within the branch, and no one was willing to offend this powerful and influential head constable for the sake of a newcomer. Others, however, were simply watching the spectacle with faint smiles on their lips, waiting to see how this newcomer would find himself in such a predicament.
The pressure surged like a tidal wave, enveloping the chill in the hall and making it hard to breathe. Lin Yan could feel those gazes, like needles piercing his skin. To accept was to step into a death trap, his fate uncertain; to refuse was to disobey his superiors and solidify his reputation as a "coward," and if he couldn't hand over the demon core in ten days, his fate would only be worse.
Liu Xiong continued to smile, his gaze gentle as he looked at him, as if awaiting an answer that had already been predetermined. Behind that smile lay certainty and calculation, like a cat eyeing a mouse under its paws, victory assured.
Lin Yan met his gaze, his face expressionless. He clasped his hands in a fist salute again, his voice clear and steady, like steel tempered by ice, echoing in the silent hall:
"I am honored by the captain's high regard. This task... I am willing to give it a try."
As soon as he finished speaking, the hall fell even quieter, even the flame of the oil lamp seemed to pause for a moment. Liu Xiong's smile froze for a second, then returned to normal, only the calculation in his eyes deepened. Those who had initially come with the expectation of watching a spectacle were now stunned, their gazes towards Lin Yan filled with disbelief—this newcomer actually dared to accept the challenge?