Chapter 18: The Ancient Bridge

Yucheng is the youngest municipality directly under central government control, comprising twenty-six districts, eight counties, and four autonomous counties. The city is divided by two great rivers, its waterways abundant.

President Li’s Maybach sped out of the main urban area, heading to a newly developed district at the city’s edge, by the riverside.

Here, construction machinery crowded every available space, with many workers weaving among them.

In the distance, a small stream ran across the entire construction site to join the mighty Changhe River. An ancient bluestone bridge arched over the stream.

According to the inscription at the bridgehead, the bridge dated back to the late Ming Dynasty—four centuries old. It was no wonder the government was determined to preserve it in its entirety.

Standing by the bridge, Bai Xian frowned slightly.

She sensed no trace of demons or ghosts, but instead felt a faint aura of auspiciousness.

Yet beneath that aura, another, more restless and ominous energy lurked.

This stone bridge was indeed peculiar.

And that was precisely what troubled Bai Xian most.

She was no expert—if some demon or monster truly emerged, she could at least battle it with her Green Book.

But when it came to these more elusive, intangible forces, she was at a loss.

Should she dismantle the bridge herself?

For a fee of a hundred thousand, it wasn’t entirely out of the question.

As she pondered whether to take the bridge apart with her own hands, Li Jianguo nearby received a phone call. His expression turned animated as he listened.

Without a word, he left the site, only to return a short while later.

This time, someone else was in the car.

An old Taoist priest, dressed in a blue-grey robe, his white hair flowing, exuding an air of otherworldly detachment.

It was Bai Xian’s first time encountering someone of this profession, and she couldn’t help but look at him a few times.

She sensed a familiar energy from him.

Spiritual power—the old priest actually possessed spiritual power as well.

Sensing her gaze, the old Taoist turned, nodded slightly in greeting, and then walked with President Li toward the stone bridge.

“Who is he?” Bai Xian, left to the side, was not annoyed. She turned to Chen Xu, her companion.

“That is Master Zhang Yuheng from the Yushan Sect. President Li arranged for him to come today to deal with the bridge.”

Bai Xian raised her eyebrows. So, she thought, she had inadvertently tried to snatch someone else’s business.

In the distance, accompanied by Li Jianguo, Master Zhang walked back and forth across the bridge, then lingered for a long while before the stele, finally returning.

“I am Zhang Yuheng of the Yushan Sect. President Li tells me you, too, have come to handle the matter of the bridge. Have you noticed anything unusual?”

The Yushan Sect was founded by Master Changxuan, one of the Seven True Norths, a true orthodox Taoist lineage.

Master Zhang’s attitude made Li Jianguo and Chen Xu glance at Bai Xian with new respect.

“I greet you, Master Zhang,” Bai Xian replied, not expecting the old Taoist to approach her after inspecting the bridge. She hesitated, saying, “This bridge is different from ordinary haunts. It’s shrouded in an aura of good fortune, not malevolence, as if it’s protecting the bridge from harm.”

Master Zhang nodded slightly.

“You are correct. That aura does shield the bridge, but the oddity does not lie in the bridge itself—it’s the sword hanging beneath it.”

A sword?

Bai Xian turned to look.

The bridge ran north to south, the stream flowing west to east; from where she stood, she couldn’t see anything hanging beneath it.

“It was only after reading the inscription that I discovered the Dragon-Slaying Sword.”

Legend says that dragons can soar to the heavens or dive into the seas, possessing extraordinary power.

Snakes are called “little dragons”—after five hundred years of cultivation, they become jiao; after a further thousand years, a jiao can ascend and become a true dragon.

The final step before becoming a dragon is called “walking the jiao.”

The jiao must follow the water eastward to the sea. If encountered by humans, it will be questioned whether it looks more like a dragon or a snake. If deemed a dragon, it joins the ranks of the immortals; if a snake, a thousand years of cultivation are lost.

This might sound trivial, but whenever a jiao crosses a river in this way, it brings storms and floods. Villagers on both banks suffer from the floods, and bridges built over the streams are often destroyed.

Thus, ordinary people have little fondness for jiao dragons; in mythology, they often appear as evil creatures.

To ward off such disasters, the ancients would hang a long sword beneath a stone bridge after its completion, to deter the jiao.

Such swords were called “Dragon-Slaying Swords.”

Not only did these swords prevent the jiao from destroying the bridge, but they also protected the bridge from other forms of damage.

“So you’re saying the workers sent to dismantle the bridge were harmed by the Dragon-Slaying Sword?” Bai Xian asked curiously. “So many ancient bridges have such swords hanging beneath them—if the sword is truly harmful, how were other bridges dismantled?”

Master Zhang nodded, then shook his head.

“The Dragon-Slaying Sword beneath this bridge is quite different from those beneath other bridges.”

Jiao dragons were exceedingly rare—not every stream concealed one. Hanging a sword beneath a bridge became more of a tradition than a necessity.

Though the custom remained, the swords themselves varied in potency.

Most ancient bridges simply had any long sword hung beneath them; at most, it would be blessed at a nearby temple or monastery, and even then, it would hardly harm a jiao.

But the “Dragon-Slaying Sword” before them was different.

“According to the inscription, during the mid-Ming Dynasty, natural disasters were frequent. This stone bridge, built by the Changhe River, was destroyed by floods three times in a few years, leaving the villagers in misery.”

“During the Jiajing era, the court invested heavily in a fourth attempt at construction. A female Taoist, known as Master Tanyang, happened to pass by, sensed a surge of magic in the water, and realized a jiao dragon was about to take form. To spare the people, she removed her own sword and hung it beneath the bridge to slay the dragon.”

With the protection of her sword, the stone bridge was never destroyed again.

Until the late Wanli era, when the jiao hidden in the stream reached a thousand years of cultivation and attempted to ascend to the sea, triggering a mountain flood.

The flood swept down from the mountains, destroying dikes along the river, threatening to annihilate the villagers.

But as the jiao passed beneath the bridge, the Dragon-Slaying Sword beneath it blazed with cold light. In the shimmering haze, a female Taoist appeared, thrusting her sword into the torrent.

There was a mournful dragon’s cry, the river mouth dyed blood red, and the unstoppable flood simply vanished, saving both banks.

Li Jianguo and Chen Xu were so stunned by the old priest’s tale they could barely react.

“That… that sounds a bit far-fetched, doesn’t it?”

Dragons, Taoists—such things seemed far removed from the modern world.

It wasn’t that they didn’t believe the old Taoist; there were simply no ancient records or evidence to support the existence of such supernatural things.

Master Zhang laughed heartily.

“To those who believe, it’s real; to those who don’t, it’s not. I merely recount what the inscription says.”

Li Jianguo swallowed hard, asking cautiously, “So there’s no way to take down this bridge?”

“The solution is both difficult and simple: find a woman of considerable cultivation to remove the Dragon-Slaying Sword from beneath the bridge.”

A woman of considerable cultivation?

Li Jianguo’s expression darkened.

“Why a woman? Can’t you do it, Master?”

“Because the Taoist who hung the sword was a woman—hence, a female Taoist. To avoid a clash of yin and yang and prevent the sword from turning against the one who removes it, only a woman can do it.”

“But where can we find such a woman? Master, could you recommend someone?”

Master Zhang stroked his beard and said, “No need to look far—she is right before your eyes.”