Chapter Sixty-Eight: The One Who Spreads Pestilence, the Jade Talisman of Immortality

A cacophony like the grinding of countless metals clashed with the howling mountain winds. The mass of insects, dark as storm clouds, was scattered in all directions, their once-menacing formation thrown into chaos by this sudden force.

“So, you’re a cultivator of the Way of Wind—how rare!” The Six Plagues Adept smiled faintly at the sight, showing no concern for the disintegration of his insect swarm. That cloud of pests had only been a probing gesture on his part. Yet as a true master of plagues, even such a test should not be so easily brushed aside.

Indeed, the tiny insects soon regrouped, clinging together to withstand the raging wind. Some even bared their mandibles, attempting to gnaw at the gusts themselves, their ferocity plain to see.

Lin You, observing the struggle between wind and swarm, saw that for the moment neither could gain the upper hand. He turned his attention instead to the Six Plagues Adept and asked calmly, “Who are you, and why have you come to trespass upon the Crimson Pine Daoist Palace?”

The Six Plagues Adept laughed heartily. “I am the True Lord of Six Plagues, servant to the Imperial Preceptor! As for my purpose here—if you can overcome these plague-borne insects of mine, I shall tell you all!”

With those words, the swarm above grew more frenzied, hurling themselves toward Lin You with reckless abandon. Yet before they could draw near, every last one was shredded by the spirits of the wind.

Lin You did not so much as stir, standing motionless atop the cliff, his gaze fixed upon his adversary across the chasm. The gales, summoned by the power of the sacred ground, were formidable enough to command the respect of even a grandmaster—let alone a horde of mere insects.

The Six Plagues Adept had expected to see Lin You thrown into disarray, but the young cultivator remained utterly unruffled, dispatching the insects with effortless grace. This unexpected display left the Adept momentarily taken aback. His expression darkened, and a murderous resolve began to brew within him. In these waning days of the Dao, with resources so scarce, the more remarkable this man proved himself, the more necessary it was that he die. Such was the contest for immortality.

Still, pride would not allow him to break his word. He recounted, without concealment, the incident with the wandering Daoist he had encountered on the road, explaining how he had been instructed to incite trouble here.

Lin You listened impassively, then frowned and asked, “You came from Jiangzhou?”

The Six Plagues Adept arched an eyebrow and smiled. “Indeed. What of it?”

“The great plague in Jiangzhou—was that your doing?” Lin You pressed further. From the insects, he had sensed a malignant aura of pestilence, and combined with the Adept’s mention of Jiangzhou, a dreadful suspicion took root: the plague had been deliberately unleashed by this very man.

At this, the Six Plagues Adept’s lips curled in a wicked smile, and he nodded. “I thought you might be a kindred spirit, but it seems you’re still shackled by common notions. What are a few mortals, after all? They cannot escape the cycle of birth, sickness, and death. I merely hastened the process. What harm is there in that?”

His words were high-sounding, but every syllable dripped with arrogance, as if he stood above humanity itself.

Lin You was unmoved by such sophistry. His gaze grew cold, and even the wind seemed to take on a sharper, more forbidding edge.

The Six Plagues Adept laughed again. “So, a mere cultivator of wind thinks highly of himself! Do you pity mortals so much? Let me be frank: at this very moment, twenty thousand plague-ridden refugees are marching toward the city of Jinhua at my command. What can you possibly do about it?”

If this man cared for mortals, then he would use them to shake his resolve. As he finished speaking, he watched Lin You’s face closely, waiting for the panic he expected to see.

Yet to his surprise, Lin You remained composed, even serene. Could it be that the man before him did not care for the fate of those refugees? Doubt gnawed at him.

Unbeknownst to him, within the Crimson Pine Daoist Palace, several streaks of light had descended before Jiang Liunian and Qingyang Zi.

“Qingyang, take this jade talisman and make for Jinhua City at once. Warn the people to prepare for the plague, and if the plague demon stands in your way, use the talisman to strike him down!”

“Fellow Daoist Jiang, plague victims approach the city. I ask you and brothers Yujing and Yuyin to carry these bitter apricots and use them to dispel the disaster and cure the plague. Here are two jade talismans—enough to ensure your safety!”

At the same time, Yujing and Yuyin received Lin You’s transmission.

All were filled with solemn resolve and wasted no time. Qingyang Zi, gazing at the three translucent jade leaves inscribed with ancient runes and a talismanic paper, accepted them with reverence. Looking to the peak, he bowed deeply. “Disciple Qingyang receives the instructions of Granduncle!”

He tore the talisman, and a gentle breeze rose to bear him swiftly toward Jinhua. Jiang Liunian, Yujing, and the others circled the mountain from another route, likewise making for the city.

From the summit, Lin You surveyed all that transpired within the Daoist Palace and nodded to himself. The bitter apricots had been prepared for just such a fateful meeting with the city’s people, and now, by a stroke of fortune, they would serve to resolve this very crisis. Bitter apricots were known to ward off disaster and disease; these, nourished by spiritual springs, were even more potent. Moreover, the plague-bearing insects of the Six Plagues Adept were naturally restrained by their properties.

It was just as it had been years before in Jiangning, when plague was dispelled by the ancestor tree of bitter apricots—until it was felled, leading to tragedy’s return.

Lin You’s gaze returned to the Six Plagues Adept. Judging by his methods, the man’s cultivation likely exceeded Lin You’s own, but his vital energy was chaotic, evidently the result of many unorthodox arts. Even without the support of the sacred ground, Lin You was not certain he could not slay him here and now.

As Lin You pondered, the Six Plagues Adept, too, was sizing up his opponent, having roughly gauged Lin You’s strength from the force of that tempest. With his own seventh-level vital energy and the Plague Bane Robe, he was confident he could claim the other’s life.

He cast a greedy glance at the verdant, soaring Crimson Pine Mountain. No wonder this young Daoist had such cultivation—the spiritual land itself was the source. If he could seize it for himself, perhaps the Imperial Preceptor’s aid would become unnecessary.

His avarice flared. Casting aside hesitation, he removed the Plague Bane Robe and poured all his vital energy into it. The treasure, saturated with spiritual power, surged in potency, casting a shadow that threatened to envelop the entire mountain.