Chang'an Infiltration (2)
The infiltration team moved down the street, muffling their footsteps.
The avenue stretching left and right beyond the district walls teemed with crowds, bustling like a marketplace.
Most were residents of Chang'an, but there were also martial artists with swords at their waists, and merchant caravans or escort agencies hauling goods—easy enough to spot.
Though it had lost some glory since the capital's relocation, the realization hit anew that Chang'an had once been the greatest ancient capital of the Central Plains.
Song Hyeon had visited Chang'an a few times back in his days as an escort warrior.
The city looked no different from those days.
At least on the surface...
But there was one difference from the past.
The expressions on people's faces.
Not a single one among the throng filling the streets wore any hint of joy, anger, sorrow, or pleasure.
Everyone stared into empty space, as if lost in some trance.
Revenants who hadn't realized they were dead, endlessly repeating the routines of their living days.
The streets swarmed with people, yet all acted like wooden statues...
Any ordinary person would have been crushed by the eerie dissonance, gripped by terror.
But the infiltration team pressed on without a flicker in their eyes.
"With the talismans we carry, there's no need to worry about the revenants detecting our breath."
Song Hyeon said as he led the way.
No matter the talismans, speaking aloud—not even via transmission—right under the revenants' noses showed the extent of his boldness.
"However, should the talismans somehow fail and your expression slip unnoticed, the revenants will spot you. Maintain a blank face at all times."
Wang Yi Sam, curious about what made Song Hyeon so fearless, whispered to Yu So Un as quietly as he could.
"How do you know that guy?"
"We've infiltrated worse places together. Black Wolf Castle, you know."
"Ugh, right."
"But it seems Chang'an hasn't revealed its true face yet."
"Still, with the young lady's talismans..."
"Once we enter the real hell, talismans like these will be worthless."
"..."
Wang Yi Sam fell silent, at a loss for words.
That wasn't all? What kind of hell had these guys been through...?
He started to sigh but remembered Song Hyeon's warning about blank faces and quickly stiffened his expression.
Whether from that or the talismans, the revenants ignored him like a wooden statue and passed right by.
Suddenly, Wang Yi Sam noticed something different about Chang'an's revenants compared to those they'd faced before.
None showed any rot or decay.
That alone might suggest they'd turned recently—slim chance though it was.
But the real difference Wang Yi Sam spotted was in their eyes.
Every revenant's eyes glinted, reflecting light with a sparkle.
'Like staring at a sack of glittering silver taels.'
Wang Yi Sam thought idly, unaware how sharply he'd hit the mark.
Song Hyeon recalled the map of Chang'an in his mind.
'Chang'an has 108 districts, each walled off.'
Each district was the size of a Central Plains village.
With 108 of them, even on horseback, crossing from one end to the other took considerable time—a colossal metropolis.
'As long as we have the Black Wolf Secret Book talismans, the revenants won't detect our presence.'
But he couldn't relax.
The gate guards, and every revenant on the streets, could be under someone's control.
'The talismans hide us from their sight. The problem is the Commander.'
Commander.
A revenant with the power to mentally control Blood Ghosts.
'Whoever turned a metropolis like Chang'an into a revenant city must have Commanders under them, guarding against intruders.'
That was why Song Hyeon had chosen the south gate over the side gate.
If a Commander controlled the guards, scaling the walls at the side gate would expose them right away—botching the mission from the start.
Better to enter through the main gate and blend into the masses.
In a city of a million souls.
No Commander could control them all.
They'd be directing a select elite few to patrol Chang'an.
'In that case.'
Song Hyeon turned his head, fixing his gaze on something as he thought.
'The Commander's eyes are there.'
Watchtowers rising high amid the streets.
'To delay the Commander's detection as long as possible...?'
Song Hyeon's mind was already scouting for the next move.
While the infiltration team scanned the revenants as they moved, someone was watching them in turn—from the watchtowers.
Towering structures at the four corners of every one of Chang'an's 108 districts' walls.
From them, one could see not just within the district but beyond the walls.
In each, a figure in yellow turban and robe stood vigil over the streets.
A yellow-robe in one watchtower spotted the infiltration team weaving through the crowds.
He raised black and white flags, one in each hand, and swung toward the north.
His left hand spun the black flag in wide circles, while his right raised the white flag high, then slashed it forward repeatedly.
Moments later, a yellow-robe in a northern watchtower across the street received the signal and repeated it northward.
Tower by tower, the yellow-robes relayed the message.
The final relay reached a district near the old imperial palace.
Unlike others teeming with crowds, this one held a sprawling manor amid dense bamboo groves, silent as a tomb.
The yellow-robe in its watchtower received the signal.
He turned and struck the bianqing rack with a mallet.
Tang tang tang... tang tang... ta-dang... tang ta-dang tang.
A stone chime rack, stones carved and hung in a wooden frame, struck to produce notes.
The clear tones spread softly from the tower.
No matter the silence, they couldn't fill an entire district-sized space.
Yet in the manor at the bamboo grove's heart, someone heard them...
In the manor's grand hall, a woman knelt, ears attuned to the sound.
Her black hair fell to her waist, white robes draped her form, a long sword scar crossed her eyes.
Blind, perhaps, but her hearing discerned the distant chimes amid Chang'an's din.
As she listened, the man before her asked,
"So Cheon, what is it?"
"Martial artists we've never seen have entered Chang'an."
So Cheon bowed her head to him.
"How many?"
"Eleven in total."
"Current position?"
"After entering via the south gate, passing between Lianzao District and Anli District, heading north."
"Rats slinking into Chang'an after so long. Here to sabotage Lord Seo Bul's heaven-defying scheme?"
The man in his early twenties, clad in red official robes, smirked.
Cheon Ryung turned to the table in the hall.
A map of Chang'an's 108 districts lay there.
Detailed to buildings and alleys, enough for a first-time visitor to navigate.
So Cheon listened again and said,
"The martial artists have turned into a district."
"Into a district? Which? Chengming or Guangxing?"
Those lay ahead of the team's path.
"Guangxing, to the right of their direction."
"Hahaha! Into a district? The rats walking into the trap themselves!"
Hiding in a village-sized district made tracking hard—or so outsiders thought.
But not those who knew Chang'an's guard system.
Yellow-robes in watchtowers scanned every corner; odd signs triggered flag signals to the manor.
So Cheon, blind but master of Qimen Dunjia, predicted paths from signals.
Cheon Ryung commanded it all, Chang'an's guard chief.
To him, the intruders' moves were clear as Sun Wukong in Buddha's palm.
"So Cheon, deploy the Silver-eyed Soldiers."
Silver-eyed Soldiers. Soldiers with silver eyes.
"As you command."
So Cheon bowed, then chanted a low incantation.
Finishing, she said,
"In about the time for one cup of tea, the Silver-eyed Soldiers will surround Guangxing District."
"Understood."
Cheon Ryung called outside,
"Gyeong Seung! Where is Gyeong Seung?"
"Reporting, sir."
A warrior appeared from empty air outside the hall, kneeling on one knee.
Whoosh. Cheon Ryung tossed something; Gyeong Seung caught it with outstretched hands, head bowed.
A single sword.
"With that sword, sever the necks of those eleven rats."
"Kill them, sir?"
"No—cut their necks, then implant Blood Thread Worms to turn them into revenants."
Cheon Ryung's silver eyes gleamed.
"They came to Chang'an after so long; we should grant their wish for immortality, no? Hahaha!"
Song Hyeon led the team into the district on the street's right.
Guangxing District.
Passing the ten-foot walls' gate revealed a maze of streets.
The main avenue had been lively as a market; Guangxing was the market.
Straight and broad before, here buildings crowded chaotically, narrow alleys spiderwebbing between.
"What a mess. Busier than a marketplace."
"It's not a marketplace—it's the market."
Song Hyeon replied to Wang Yi Sam's grumble.
As he said, peddlers' calls assaulted the ears amid the narrow lanes, clogged further by caravans.
"This district's famous in Chang'an for its clutter of peddler shops."
Seo Baek realized something and asked,
"You chose this district to evade the revenants' eyes, didn't you?"
"Correct."
"I felt eyes watching us from on high."
Seo Baek had sensed the watchtower gazes.
The rest of the team had too.
Masters whose cultivation let them dodge hidden darts mid-swing wouldn't miss those piercing stares from above.
All but Wang Yi Sam.
"We'll shake pursuit here and continue."
Wang Yi Sam finally grasped their predicament.
"Pursuit? The revenants spotted us?"
"Yes."
"Then we're screwed! Where do we even hide?"
"There."
Song Hyeon pointed with his index finger.
Wang Yi Sam followed it and gaped at the building.
An eight-story pleasure house.