Chapter 21: The Twenty-First Pig

The Ghost Lord’s Sacrificial Ceremony required the attendance of the main branches of all the great clans.

Beneath the altar, extending ten miles along the palace wall, the scions of the nobility stood eagerly awaiting.

Everyone was waiting for the Lord of Wuhuan Island.

Yet the sun shifted and shifted again before the lord’s procession finally appeared in grand procession.

Several trusted aides stood close by the carriage, and as it came to a halt, one swiftly drew back the curtain while another bowed deeply.

Shen Que stepped down, using the back of an aide as a step. Before him, the leader of the Crane Guard hurried through a silent crowd of bowed palace attendants, then knelt and handed him a wooden box.

Shen Que pulled out a slip of paper from the box, glanced at it, his eyes darkening. “Not a single one kept watch properly. What use are you then? After the ceremony, take your punishments.”

“Yes.”

The Crane Guard leader had foreseen this outcome but had no choice. Punishment must be meted out, yet the work still needed doing. “What of the wedding procession—?”

“Does she not still have parents and siblings? Go to her parents’ home to fetch her. Everything else proceeds as usual.”

Shen Que’s expression remained calm as he adjusted his collar and strode toward the altar. “How many Crane Guards remain within the palace?”

“One hundred and thirty-two.”

“Send them all out to search.”

“…Yes.”

---

Just as Li Zhenzhen had guessed, the northern side of the palace was where the sacrificial pit and clan burial grounds were located.

The original story scarcely described the human sacrifices themselves, focusing instead on the female lead’s desperate struggles and the fiery aftermath of her pursuit. These sacrifices existed merely to frighten the heroine with the island’s horrific rituals, prompting her to disrupt the ceremony and giving the male supporting character, Shen Que, the chance to appear as her savior.

However, as Li Zhenzhen studied the layout of the Miaoji Palace, she found an unsettling familiarity.

Was this not the layout of the Alliance Elder Council?

Before her fall to District Twelve, she had visited the Elder Council once.

Back then, the council was segmented by seven layers of greenery: the office area to the south, residential quarters to the east and west.

The northern side backed directly onto the noble cemetery, where many high-ranking Alliance funerals were held.

The resemblance to Miaoji Palace was not mere similarity—it was identical.

Yet, for some reason, despite the importance of the ancestral tombs, she had not encountered a single Crane Guard on her way.

Had they all been summoned away for the ceremony?

Surely they weren’t all slacking off.

The sacrificial pit lay adjacent to the burial grounds. To facilitate the burial of fresh sacrifices today, when Li Zhenzhen arrived, the pit had already been opened.

The pit was over ten feet wide, roughly the size of a small plaza.

Its walls were smooth and vertical, inside lay scattered human bones numbering over ten thousand visible to the naked eye.

Rows upon rows of bodies had their legs hacked off, with the marks becoming denser from left to right—indicating that the executioners did not kill immediately but severed the legs one by one until exhaustion caused repeated strikes on the remaining limbs.

Some had their hands cut off and dragged their mutilated limbs crouching against the pit walls.

---

They must have still been alive when thrown in, struggling to crawl out until buried alive in that posture.

Even Li Zhenzhen, having witnessed countless acts of cruelty, strife, and death in District Twelve, fell silent for a moment at the sight of such horror.

The Ghost Lord’s sacrificial rites occurred only once a year.

The brutal deaths of these human offerings were primarily to accompany the nobles in the afterlife, ensuring that these aristocrats would have attendants in the netherworld.

Walking among the dry earth and scattered bones, Li Zhenzhen lingered not long before proceeding toward the burial grounds ahead.

---

Meanwhile, on the other side, atop the altar.

The morning prayers had concluded. Lord Shen Que read aloud the sacrificial invocation to the Ghost Lord, praying for favorable weather on Wuhuan Island.

He then knelt thrice, kowtowing nine times, formally requesting a marriage blessing from the Ghost Lord.

The nobles and clan members below erupted in murmurs of shock.

Everyone knew the lord was twenty-five years old now, yet his harem was barren—not a single woman, not even a mosquito’s mother.

Years ago, rumors had circulated that the previous lady of the house had attempted to drown their child. Although the lord had saved the child, since then he had abhorred women, unable to be near them, feeling nausea even at their touch.

Later, the lord executed several rumor-mongers, quelling the gossip.

After the marriage request, the High Priest stepped forward to divine the Ghost Lord’s response.

The High Priest appeared remarkably young, crowned with a crane headdress, his visage radiant—long snowy hair and even white eyelashes.

He held a rope woven from eight strands of ox hair, closed his eyes, sat cross-legged, and cast it to the ground to interpret omens, further consulting the Four Pillars of Destiny.

Yet upon questioning, he fell silent for a long time.

Only when Shen Que urged, “What did the Ghost Lord say?” did he look down at the tangled ox hair, lost in thought.

He had drunk some wine that morning.

When pulling the threads, he had grasped the wrong end and cast the divination backward.

But interpreting the Ghost Lord’s will was his exclusive domain. Quickly recovering, the High Priest assumed an inscrutable expression and recited the script Shen Que had provided the night before.

“...The Ghost Lord commands the lord to seek a woman of the surname Weng from the east, with the Four Pillars of Destiny bearing the characters Xin Chou, Geng Zi, Gui Hai, and Yi Mao.”

“This woman’s earthly branches form a water triad of Hai, Zi, and Chou; her heavenly stems of Geng and Xin metal nurture the day master. Marrying her ensures immunity from illness; possessing her brings auspicious blessings, protecting Wuhuan Island’s people with longevity and prosperity, and peace across the four seas.”

The lord was elated and immediately ordered offerings to be presented in gratitude for the Ghost Lord’s guidance.

One by one, prisoner wagons carrying the human sacrifices slowly approached the altar, eliciting a burst of cheers from the crowd.

The nobles sat upright beneath the altar, receiving warm gold-threaded charcoal braziers from their attendants to warm their hands. Before them lay delicacies and jade dishes, endless streams of fine wine poured by dancing maidens.

Though the biting cold wind blew from all sides, servants spread embroidered canopies to shelter them from rain and wind.

Heng Yu knelt between tables, holding a wine pot and jade cup, pouring drinks for the dignitaries.

Yet the noble before him did not look at him, instead wearing a worried expression and whispering to those beside him.

“Why aren’t the Cui family here today?”

“Haven’t you heard? Something major happened! The lord’s late arrival this morning was because of this.”

“It’s said the lord ordered over 150 members of the Cui family confined in the sea territory, including Cui Shichu himself. The Cui family’s eldest daughter is suspected of treason, and the lord has resolved to annihilate the entire ninth branch of the Cui clan.”

“How dare the lord! Cui Shichu was an elder of three dynasties!”

“Can’t you see? The young lord rules now and cuts down the powerful ministers first. Cui Shichu’s prospects look grim.”

“Not necessarily. Though he calls himself the lord in public, he truly thinks himself the ruler. But the Cui family relies on the immortal Qiyan Zhenren behind the scenes. The lord is but a mortal; how can he contend with cultivators?”

“So what if they are cultivators? The Supreme Immortal of Taiqing once ruled arrogantly, refusing to eat anything but wutong or drink but sweet spring water, wielding a three-foot sword to govern the four seas. Yet he met a miserable end. Even immortals are not invincible—the outcome remains uncertain.”

...

Forty-nine stone pillars stood around the altar, spaced five steps apart, beginning at the twelve o’clock position. Each pillar was flanked by a masked sacrificial executioner veiled in white gauze.

The first batch of sacrifices had already been bound to the pillars.

The cold winter air mingled with the boiling fury of the executioners.

Below, the atmosphere grew more intense as the terrified screams and cries of the sacrifices pierced the air.

The killings began swiftly.

The first offering was an old man, who died as soon as his back was slit open—praying for favorable winds and rains.

The second was a young girl, bound to a fiery brazier and roasted alive, beseeching peace and prosperity for the island.

The third was a young man, handsome and scholarly in appearance. As he was dismembered from feet upward, he clenched his teeth silently until the butchering reached his face, when he finally let out a piercing, agonized scream.

“Wishing for calm seas and clear rivers.”

The nobles erupted in applause, tossing fruits and fine wines onto the altar.

Heng Yu stepped forward involuntarily.

A hand grasped his arm from behind.

He turned to meet a grim ghostly mask.

Li Zhenzhen stood behind a pillar beside him, shrouded in shadows between flickering flames and the noisy crowd.

“Not yet. Wait a little longer.”

Heng Yu tightened his grip on the wine pot.

Then they would wait.

A timid young noblewoman whispered, “This is too cruel. Must it be like this?”

Her brother was surprised by her words and snorted.

“You are naive. These people volunteered to be offerings to the Ghost Lord. Otherwise, they would never see so many nobles in their lifetime.”

His face was coarse and brutish, but he spoke matter-of-factly.

“For noble blood like ours, to surround them, serve them, and cheer for them today is a great honor. Is that not worth more than a lowly life? Ordinary people wouldn’t even be allowed here.”

The young lady lowered her lacquer fan and timidly asked the servant pouring wine, “Is that true? They all came willingly?”

Wait a little longer.

Until the first batch of sacrifices was served in morsels upon the offering table.

Blood dripped steadily down the table’s edge; some severed muscles and bones twitched involuntarily.

Heng Yu diverted his gaze from the gore and smiled as he filled the young lady’s cup.

“Miss, yes, they all came willingly.”