Cheng Qian and Li Yun scurried to the deck. As soon as Cheng Qian exited the cabin, his nostrils were assaulted by a terrible stench and, as he raised his head, he saw an unusual scene above him—the originally clear sky had been blotted out by dark clouds. They stretched across as far as his eyes could discern, engulfing his vision and shutting out the last ray of sunlight.

All ships on the sea had come to a halt, and all of those seniors who were flying flamboyantly now landed on the ship’s deck, their countenance signifying that they had encountered a formidable foe. Some young people may have been oblivious to what was happening, but they were stupefied the moment they all looked up at the sky.

Li Yun fidgeted, pacing back and forth as he quietly asked Cheng Qian, “Is that him? What does he want?”

Cheng Qian suddenly thought of Tang Zhen as he answered, “Probably to collect cultivators’ souls; the Celestial Market gathers many cultivators from all around the continent.”

Li Yun turned around, looking at him in horror.

“If he really wanted to capture people, his targets would be those flying seniors and not you. Stop worrying,” Cheng Qian said, looking around. “Where is Master?”

Suddenly, an eagle’s cry resounded from afar, followed by weird laughs reverberating in the air. Men and women, old and young: their laughs blended into a creepy harmony, starting off low and quiet before gradually becoming louder and sharper—eventually to the point of resembling hoarse and exhausted cries. It was the epitome of “wailing like ghosts and howling like wolves”.

Li Yun staggered backwards, covering his ears with his hands, “What is this?”

They were surrounded by scenes of chaos. At that moment, Yan Zhengming appeared out of nowhere and seized Cheng Qian by the shoulder, suffocating him with his familiar fragrance of orchids.

“What are you two doing here? Get inside the cabin!” snapped Yan Zhengming.

Cheng Qian looked around for Muchun Zhenren, but he was nowhere to be seen. Panicking, he pulled on Yan Zhengming’s sleeve and asked, “First Senior Brother, where’s Master?”

“I don’t know. I’m searching for him too.” Yan Zhengming’s face looked sullen like deep water. “Don’t be a hindrance here, get inside…”

His voice was soon drowned out by the bloodcurdling laughs. Yan Zhengming closed his mouth and his brows knitted together tightly.

Li Yun was good at avoiding danger and entered the cabin as he was told, but Cheng Qian wasn’t someone who listened to others. Yan Zhengming didn’t have time to argue, so he just violently shoved Cheng Qian into the cabin.

The windproof and shockproof lanterns lit up and Han Yuan was hiding there, anxious and frightened.

Cheng Qian’s heart sank upon seeing Puddle in Han Yuan’s arms.

The tracking charm they made had been tied with a coloured silk around Puddle’s waist by Li Yun. Unfortunately, they had never thought that their master would leave Puddle behind.

Yan Zhengming arrived at last. His face was exhausted and deathly pale. He panted and puffed, leaning against the door with one hand covering his mouth as though trying hard to hold back the vomit.

After a while, he said, “I’ve identified this stench: it’s exactly what a Soul-Consuming Lamp would emit when burning.”

Li Yun, who was sat by the window, muttered under his breath, “Shh! Look at the sky.”

Looking up, Cheng Qian saw a dense cluster of shadows in the dark sky.

There were tens of thousands of them, all shabbily dressed with blurred faces. They floated about in the air, causing the East Sea to look like the entrance to the Bridge of Helplessness¹.

These ghost shadows… why were there so many?

How powerful was this demonic cultivator, Jiang Peng, exactly?

The dark clouds roiled as the currents surged and fell. Witnessing this scene, those overbearing cultivators suddenly became like gazelles confronted with lions. Cheng Qian could see their cowardice and fright, despite all of them standing in full combat readiness.

A bolt of lightning, accompanied by a peal of thunder, divided the world in two, followed by a billow of black air that streaked across the sky like a dragon diving into the sea. After careful observation, people noticed a man reclining in the dark clouds.

He was wearing a grey robe, with his eyelids hanging low on his ashen and sallow face as though he had an incurable disease. His appearance made him look exactly like a malevolent ghost as he cast his disdainful gaze over all living beings beneath the clouds.

Cheng Qian peeped at Yan Zhengming’s hand on the window frame and saw blue veins bulging out.

At first sight of the demonic cultivator, disbelief rushed through Cheng Qian’s mind, thinking that there may have been something wrong with first senior brother’s ears. Did Master really call such a person “Senior Brother”?

Cheng Qian’s imagination failed him; he could hardly believe that such a person was once a member of the Fuyao Sect.

What kind of master could have produced these two apprentices?

Those immortal seniors seemed to cherish their lives more than Cheng Qian could have imagined; nobody even volunteered to stand out against the devil, who emitted a deadly aura. After passing the buck²to each other, there was finally someone who took up the responsibility to break the impasse.

An old man with a white beard stood out from the crowd. He knocked the deck with his cane, and after contemplating his words, he said very courteously, “We’re heading to the Azure Dragon Island for the decennial Celestial Market. What’s your intention of stopping us here, fellow Taoist Jiang?”

His politeness was verging on flattery, but the devil didn’t seem to buy it.

“The decennial Celestial Market has brought so many talented juniors together. How brilliant…” the phthisic-like Jiang Peng spoke from upon the clouds with a light and gentle voice. Every first and last syllable was connected, causing people to be worried that he would show his fangs in the next second.

Jiang Peng smiled like a gentleman, “I just came along for the ride and to see if there were any emerging talented youngsters whilst I was here. But considering your aptitude, there’s no need to be nervous.”

This was Cheng Qian’s first time seeing a ghost cultivator, and it gave him a completely different impression from what the records in the Library had said. Shock engulfed his heart.

For such a man who was somewhere between a human being and a ghost, even if he had superhuman skills, who would have respect for him?

Who’d care about him? Who’d get along with him? Who’d take him seriously?

Being verbally stabbed, the old man with a white beard felt his face twitch, but he couldn’t gather up the courage to talk back.

Both sides came to a deadlock—as the other party was alone, it would be fairly awkward even to just keep silent on this occasion.

Cheng Qian couldn’t help but put his hand on the hilt of his sword, thinking, “If I had their swords and abilities, I’d have him fuck off right away.”

Although Cheng Qian had this impulse, he was also clear that he didn’t even have the strength to get first senior brother’s hand off his shoulder right now, let alone have a fight with that devil.

Eventually, someone dared to stand up and speak out. A thundering bellow broke the silence, “Get lost, you evil heretic!”

This sentence drew everyone’s attention. Cheng Qian took advantage of this moment as he lurched and threw Yan Zhengming’s grip off his shoulder. Then he stuck his entire upper body out of the window to find out who the speaker was.

It was a young woman in her twenties or thirties, but her ostensible youth didn’t mean anything in a cultivator’s case.

She was standing on a small boat which cost five coins per person. Probably being short of money, she was wearing a unisex robe which was, though not shabby, far from new, with many patches around the cuffs. There were a tattered bag and a sword on her back; even the sheath was badly rusted.

She seemed to be careless about her appearance, as she looked dirty and couldn’t really count as a beautiful Taoist nun.

Cheng Qian had sharp ears which caught the whispers of those sword cultivator disciples in the distance.

“Who’s that? Is she courting death?”

“Sh—that is Tang Wanqiu Zhenren from Mulan Mountain.”

“What? She is Tang Wanqiu? The one who practices ‘lunatic’ swordplay…”

“How come she’s also here?”

“Well… a mere… she really overestimates her abilities.”

Cheng Qian accurately caught the words “Mulan Mountain” in the noise.

Her surname was Tang too… what was the relationship between her and the male ghost Tang Zhen?

But before he could think it carefully, those expressionless ghosts in the air had all turned to Tang Wanqiu. Dark clouds ran riot with vicious currents. The boatman of Tang Wanqiu’s boat was so scared that he huddled himself up, wishing that he could throw himself into the sea.

Jiang Peng glanced at Tang Wanqiu, thinking nothing of her. He suddenly pursed his lips and a shrill whistle sound pierced into everyone’s ears. Cheng Qian felt his ears booming, and there was a moment when he thought he was deafened.

Immediately after that, all ghost shadows gathered into a black dragon, swooping down at the Taoist nun on that broken boat. The boatman gave a miserable shriek and hastily jumped into the water. However, before he reached the sea, a ghost shadow had caught him by the ankle and gave it a deep bite.

When the boatman’s leg was almost broken, a shiny sword light swooshed over, chopping the ghost shadow’s head off its body.

Despite the rusty sheath of Tang Wanqiu’s sword, the sword itself was exceedingly clean and dazzlingly bright. The dusty woman stood alone on the prow of the boat, encircled by thousands of ghost shadows.

However shiny her sword was, it was only intermittently visible in the thick black clouds. Cries and smirks of ghosts mingled with roars of tides. Tang Wanqiu was nearly devoured by the black ghosts, revealing her sorry figure only once in a while.

She was a lonely fighter. Though awkward, she was awe-inspiringly awkward.

It seemed that she didn’t give a shit about those who chose to be onlookers for self-preservation. All you could see was steadfastness on her angular face. She herself was the most satirical satire on those cowards.

Cheng Qian was so obsessed that he did not so much as blink. But he soon found something wrong; though Tang Wanqiu’s shining sword flashed above and around and appeared to have gained the upper hand, she was nearly on her last legs.

While the demonic cultivator himself was leisurely sitting cross-legged on the clouds throughout as if watching a show. The ghost shadows came in waves and continually assembled in the air, diving toward Tang Wanqiu in a steady stream.

Cheng Qian winced. He had this feeling that Tang Zhenren wasn’t a match for that demonic cultivator.

“The evil will not triumph over the virtuous” was just bullshit. There was no denying that the devil had a stronger force. However dauntless the woman was, she ultimately had a body made of flesh and blood.

With a sudden bang, the boat Tang Wanqiu was standing on split in two. Tang Wanqiu held her exclamation back in her throat and managed to jump onto her flying sword, but was pressed down again by another pack of ghost shadows when she tried to fly up. Crises occurred one after another.

Someone exclaimed, but no one helped.

Right at this moment, an arrow abruptly streaked across the blue sky, leaving a trace of an afterimage. The arrow unmercifully shot through the black mist enveloping Tang Zhenren, the tail feather making a piercing sound. Those ghost shadows were cleared immediately before they could dodge, while the arrow swished directly towards the demonic cultivator by virtue of its remaining force. It was so swift and fierce like the first ray of sun that shone through the dark at dawn.

Cheng Qian jerked his head around and saw his master, astounded.

Muchun Zhenren had left the big ship when nobody noticed and was standing on a small broken boat whose boatman and original passengers had fled. He was dripping wet. Clothes clung tightly to his body, leaving his slightly hunched back and skinniness nowhere to hide. He was like an old molting poultry that had curled up, shivering.

Compared to him, even the wretched Tang Wanqiu seemed much more decent.

At once, Cheng Qian knocked Li Yun out of the way and exited the cabin, leaning over the ship’s railing. He saw Master holding a bow which was probably left on the boat by a passenger, and there were wood shavings in his thumbnail. It seemed that he had carved some charm on the arrow provisionally.

That striking shot seemed to have burned Muchun up as he looked sort of dispirited. He could barely stand on the rocky boat by propping himself up on the bow, like a wilted leaf shivering in the autumn wind.

That demonic cultivator was reduced to a passive position by Muchun’s arrow. He rolled off the cloud and floated in the air, staring stonily at Muchun Zhenren.

Muchun Zhenren opened and shut his mouth, unspeaking. He chuckled after a minute and said, “Jiang Peng.”

“Han Muchun,” the demonic cultivator cracked an indescribable smile. “Nice to see you again. It’s really brave of you to stand out for someone else when you’re already half-dead yourself.”

Muchun Zhenren gradually straightened his back, which seemed to have been crooked for a million years, and directly met the devil’s eyes. With his goatee bristling, he broke into a somewhat uncouth smile with a trace of derision, saying, “You flatter me.”

Jiang Peng’s face suddenly changed. With a flick of his sleeve, all ghost shadows evaporated in a rush, leaving himself solitary in the sky. Jiang Peng said in a horrifying voice, “An ant trying to shake a giant tree and a waste who already has one foot in the grave. Today I’ll take both of you into my lamp and you’ll be the stepping-stones on my way of claiming the title of Beiming…”

As he spoke, a mountain of freak waves piled up and the deep water abruptly billowed up as if boiling, following which a water dragon cut through the surface. With a sweep of its tyrannical tail, a lot of people were thrown off their feet.

Muchun Zhenren darted a quick glance backward at Cheng Qian, who was looking at him eagerly, and drew out his wooden sword hanging from his hip. However, just as he decided to launch a death battle against Jiang Peng, his arm was suddenly fettered by some invisible force.

Muchun Zhenren’s face finally fell. But just then a comforting voice rang in his ears, “Don’t move. I’ll take him on.”

Before Muchun Zhenren could react, an antiquated copper coin dropped out of his sleeve.

Upon the coin touching the ground, a white smoke rose from it and in a trice, blended into the plentiful water vapor stirred by the water dragon, rising quietly.

The sea was in utter shambles. Looking at the giant water dragon in a stupor, Muchun Zhenren’s face changed several times before it stopped at an extremely grave expression.

That water dragon opened its mouth wide, planning to swallow a big ship wholly, when it suddenly felt something and froze in the air. After a second, it unexpectedly broke down into a mixture of waterdrops and steam and plunged into the sea, whipping up powerful waves.

This event was quite unforeseen. Even Jiang Peng backed and muttered in a frightful tone, “Who?”

When the steam cleared, countless black shadows gathered from all directions, taking a human shape where the water dragon disappeared. But its face was still blurred.

That person grinned in a deep voice and said in a leisure and unhurried manner, “Who’s blustering before me, that he wants to win the title of Beiming?”

The next day when Cheng Qian woke up, he felt like he had almost perished last night. He opened his eyes only to see Han Yuan by his bedside, looking at him nervously as though he was dying.

Cheng Qian took no notice of him as he crawled out of bed and began to wash and rinse.

Han Yuan just acted like a big Pekinese dog that had caused trouble, following Cheng Qian wherever he went. Finally, Cheng Qian coldly told him: “Scram.”

Han Yuan pocketed his pride and said flatteringly, “Little Senior Brother…”

Cheng Qian looked frosty. “I will not report to Master, alright? Get lost! Or I’ll tell Master right now.”

Han Yuan ran away quickly with his tail between his legs.

Cheng Qian wiped his face dry. He had his own deliberations—from what first senior brother said, Master had already learned from Wen Ya that the so-called Jiang Peng had also arrived here. As a result, he wouldn’t report what happened last night to Master; it might alert him to what they were planning to do. If so, it would be more difficult for them to stalk Master.

Upon walking out of his cottage, Cheng Qian noticed first senior brother expressing his disdain for the food in the inn, then proceeding to ask a Taoist child to prepare better food for him, in Wen Ya Zhenren’s presence.

Han Yuan clearly didn’t learn his lesson from last night’s fearful experience. He jabbered on and on to first senior brother, expressing his wish to hang out.

First senior brother used a bunch of excuses, like he had a stiff neck because of the hard pillow, implying that he didn’t feel like moving around.

Yan Zhengming also refused to get on his carriage again because of junior sister’s urine.

Cheng Qian felt terrible all over his body and was in a bad mood. So when he saw his clamorous martial brothers, he immediately found a way to relieve his anger as he sneered, “You can have Puddle wash your cushion.”

With that, he lifted his finger, and in the direction he pointed, little junior sister Puddle had climbed into first senior brother’s carriage again and was stuffing the cushion on which she had peed yesterday into her mouth. Her innocent eyes were blinking, and a big smile was hanging on her face.

And as she hadn’t grown a full set of teeth yet, saliva was spilling out of her mouth.

It seemed that Cheng Qian feared that first senior brother wouldn’t feel bad, as he gave him another verbal stab. “Look: junior sister has washed your cushion with her drool.”

Yan Zhengming looked as though he was going to kill his junior sister and then kill himself.

Anyway, the cottage was definitely not a place to stay, and neither was the carriage. Here was miles away from Fuyao Mountain. Yan Zhengming raised his eyes heavenward, feeling sad that there wasn’t even a shelter for him in this vast world.

But soon his master saved him from his sadness.

“There isn’t morning class today; you can all go out to have fun in the morning. In the afternoon, we shall set out for the Azure Dragon Island on the boat.”

Han Yuan cheered for that and looked eagerly at his master, saying, “Master, I heard there’s another fair today.”

“Didn’t I give you a pouch of money yesterday?” Muchun Zhenre said, exasperated. But he was defeated by Han Yuan’s eager expression, so he took a pouch out of his sleeve and exhorted his apprentice like a miser. “Be careful with your money and use it wisely.”

Han Yuan was filled with boundless joy, like a bird flying out of its cage. First senior brother just ignored him. He asked his Taoist children to find a place and put several felt blankets on it so that he could take a nap.

Li Yun had wanted to go with Han Yuan, but after glancing at Cheng Qian, he changed his mind. He said, “I’ll practice swordplay.”

Han Yuan turned to Cheng Qian and obsequiously said, “Little Senior Brother, how about I take you to buy fruit?”

“Take junior sister with you,” replied Cheng Qian ironically. “You two play nice together.”

Han Yuan: “…”

In the end, Han Yuan held Puddle up with one arm. Scratching his cheek, he felt that he seemed to have been mocked. But soon he forgot it because Cheng Qian was like a needle hidden in silk floss that would prick whoever touched him. Sometimes even Master couldn’t be spared. Han Yuan was used to it, so he didn’t mind and joyfully went out with Puddle.

Wen Ya pulled a long face. Watching Muchun Zhenren’s apprentices break up in a hubbub after brief conversations, he gave each of them an evaluation. Staring at Yan Zhengming, he remarked, “Lack discipline, ne’er-do-well¹.”

Then he looked at Li Yun. “Short of firmness, ne’er-do-well.”

And to Cheng Qian, his evaluation was concise. Without specifying the reason, he stated, “Ne’er-do-well.”

Han Yuan was the last, and the only one who didn’t receive “ne’er-do-well” as his evaluation. Wenya Zhenren asked Muchun Zhenren very surprisedly, “Did you pick up this guy to make up the numbers?”

As for Puddle, she was neglected as she was only half human and didn’t have a full set of teeth.

Finishing his comments, Wen Ya snorted and walked off without looking at Muchun Zhenren’s cloudy face.

At nightfall, the people of Fuyao Sect boarded the ship for Azure Dragon Island.

Cultivators were all built with flesh and blood just like mortals. They were also divided by ranks and liked to compare.

At the port of East Sea, tens of ships and boats were lined up in a row. Some were big ships decorated with carved patterns and exquisite curtains, and some were small boats which were so broken that it seemed that water would come in if they were rocked.

The bargain-hunter Master settled on the small boats at once; it would only cost them five coins per person. That couldn’t be any cheaper and better for them.

There were a few pots and bowls on the boat. It was said that they were used for bailing water when the boat leaked.

But Master’s plan fell through this time. Just as he was walking to the boat at the dock, Yan Zhengming had sent a Taoist child to book the largest, most expensive, and most splendid ship. He took the lead to go abroad, head high and chest out.

Cheng Qian went last with his master because he really didn’t want to go with any of his martial brothers.

Then Cheng Qian saw his master frown at first senior brother for the first time.

Seeing that, Cheng Qian inquired, “What’s wrong, Master? Is it because first senior brother is too prodigal?”

“It’s indeed hard to do anything without money,” said Muchun. “But money is ultimately an external thing which we can’t care too much. He shouldn’t have been so ostentatious.”

Cheng Qian did a double-take before he realized what his master was talking about. He scanned his surroundings and saw around them were all people heading for Azure Dragon Island. Except for sailors and fishermen, there were also people from other sects.

Some young people who couldn’t hide their thoughts were already scrutinizing them up and down.

Yan Zhengming ordered the Taoist children to carry his luxurious stuff onto the ship. His lofty manner had seemingly hidden his identity as a cultivator and made him look somewhat like a profligate son from a wealthy family. He was giving an impression of an unworldly insolent loafer.

Some people thereby showed contempt, some showed repugnance, and several people in rags walking around the boats stared at Yan Zhengming with strange expressions.

Cheng Qian tightened his grip on his wooden sword involuntarily. He suddenly looked up and asked, “Master, when can I have a real sword? A sword like first senior brother’s—I think his swordsmanship isn’t even as good as mine.”

Muchun Zhey looked at him tenderly. “Why do you want a real sword?”

Cheng Qian ran his eyes around those people with unkind expressions again, thinking how he should reply. He was extremely sensitive to hostilities from others and would feel secured only if he was holding a real weapon.

Though Cheng Qian thought first senior brother had got lousy wiring too, Master’s words sounded harsh to him…

Why must a man live under other people’s views and cater to others’ likes?

Why should people disobey their own wills because of the envy of others?

Why?!

But these thoughts couldn’t be said to Master. Cheng Qian was sure that Master wouldn’t like to hear. So he said instead, “I see everyone else has one.”

Muchun Zhenren smiled. “The sword you’re practicing with is different from others’. And real swords might injure you. Just wait until you’re a few years older.”

Cheng Qian: “…”

He felt there was more to Master’s words than met the ears.

As the large ship was already booked, Muchun had no choice but to board the vessel with Cheng Qian.

The weather was fine today. Ships were sailing on a calm sea, and the Azure Dragon Island that used to be indistinct could be clearly seen now. Puddle was extremely excited by the smell of the sea. She never calmed down for a second, climbing up and down on Master’s shoulders, and messing his hair up like a birds nest.

There were many traveling together with them. From the deck, they could see some sword cultivators fighting each other for practice on the ship beside theirs.

On another ship, several old men were traveling on flying swords, probably to escort juniors of their sect. Perhaps they thought the ship was sailing too slowly, as an old man who looked like a fat radish raised his arms, making his sleeves bulge against the sea wind. There and then, the wind and waves swelled up, and their ship cleaved merrily through the sea as if being pushed by an invisible hand. Several boats nearby were nearly turned over.

Those sword cultivators’ ship also came close to capsizing. A middle-aged man who seemed to be a senior ran to the bow of the ship with his heavy saber. He erected the saber beside him and used some unknown force to stabilize the ship, which was neither too small nor too big. His face reddened.

Although Fuyao Sect had nobody to escort them, they had a large ship instead. It just swayed slightly in the huge waves, splashing some seawater.

But hence, Cheng Qian felt more hostile gazes from the small boats around them.

Grabbing his wooden sword, Cheng Qian stood by the railing of the ship expressionlessly. He just felt those cultivators weren’t so peaceful, and didn’t have a similar laissez-faire attitude² as the people from Fuyao Mountain. Some of them abused their power to bully others, and the ones who were bullied didn’t hate those who bullied them but instead envied those who escaped.

Cheng Qian suddenly lost his exhilaration. He didn’t want to watch those almighty beings ride the clouds anymore, and his self-pride was at work again; it bothered him that they were traveling side by side with those people.

Getting back in the cabin, Cheng Qian found a place to sit down and took up his burin to do extra practices, with the itchy wish to become an almighty being when he woke up the next day.

Apart from that, he had taken out a swordplay book form the Library. It was called Tide Swordplay, which happened to coincide with their journey on the East Sea. Cheng Qian had finished learning the second form of Fuyao Wooden Swordplay and had just begun learning the third one. He had almost caught up with Li Yun’s pace—the reason why he was learning so quickly was that he was the only one of all Muchun’s apprentices who got his hands torn from practicing.

Compared with Fuyao Wooden Swordplay, other swordplays seemed to be much more in a straightforward and flat style without those dazzling variations. Just when Cheng Qian got some insight after practicing Tide Swordplay several times, Li Yun broke in.

“Xiao-Qian!” Li Yun pushed the door open, gasping for breath. “Why are you hiding here? Come up with me. It seems that the archdevil first senior brother mentioned is here!”

In this urgent moment, there seemed to be a complete copy of Introduction to Charms in Cheng Qian’s mind. He quickly browsed through it from the first page to the last one. Suddenly, a small charm popped into his mind—the last chapter had mentioned that charms carved on leaves required much less energy than ones carved on wood, but most of them could only be used once

And it had presented two examples. One was for illumination and the other… what was the use of the other one?

Cheng Qian bit his own tongue fiercely. Then he remembered that he didn’t finish reading the book so he didn’t know the use of the second charm yet.

But now he was left no time to care so anymore. Cheng Qian put his hands behind him without looking away from the ghost.

As soon as the burin in his hand touched the leaf, Cheng Qian realized that he was in over his head. Even though it was just a leaf, to him, it was as good as a baby, who hadn’t learned to walk, being forced to run.

Don’t break… don’t stop… please…

Cheng Qian’s face whitened at a noticeable pace. He felt his energy being sponged up by the burin and became as pale as a mummy. The leaf was killing him. But this was the only chance for him and Han Yuan.

Perhaps the crisis had inspired his potential; Cheng Qian finished his first-ever charm in his life without a hitch. At that instant, a mystical power was passed on to him through the leaf. But he wasn’t in the mood to thoroughly examine it.

Cheng Qian swayed and almost fell to the ground. The channels all over his body were aching as though he was stabbed by needles.

Han Yuan caught hold of Cheng Qian’s arm. “Xiao-Qian, what’s wrong?”

Cheng Qian took two deep breaths and shook Han Yuan off. “Go back and ask master for help.”

Han Yuan was stunned. “What?”

Cheng Qian: “Go!”

Suddenly, the male ghost started slowly advancing. Cheng Qian pinched the leaf with his fingers and held it in front of his chest. He demanded, “Stop!”

That leaf gave off a faint light. As this was the first time Cheng Qian carved a complete charm, he didn’t know if he did it in the proper way. The charm seemed to be incomplete—only half of it was glittering.

The ghost’s eyes fell on the leaf. Temporarily his countenance seemingly brightened a bit, his lifeless eyeballs moved, and his pale and chapped lips moved. Then he said in a barely audible voice, “Heart… Heart-Purifying Charm…”

Cheng Qian’s feet gave out and he nearly crumpled.

He shouldn’t have taken the chance. How could a rudimentary charm carved on a leaf have any extraordinary effect?

Cheng Qian regretted that he didn’t use the illuminating charm; perhaps that would be more useful.

Contemplating the Heart-Purifying Charm, the ghost took another step forward. There was no more room left for Cheng Qian to retreat. He was forced to take up his wooden sword, his cold sweat soaking his robe. Although his hand was shaking uncontrollably due to fatigue, the tip of the sword was aimed firmly at the ghost.

The ghost gradually went back to consciousness. He stammered, “I… I am not… a bad person, kid…”

It seemed to have been ages since the ghost last spoke. His incoherent words made him sound somewhat miserable; however, Cheng Qian wasn’t a person who’d easily pity others. He wasn’t shaken by the ghost’s words and shouted to Han Yuan behind him, “I said scram! Go find master! Don’t hold me back here!”

Han Yuan was completely lost. Looking at his little senior brother who was trying to be brave, he said, “Xiao-Qian, he said he wasn’t…”

No longer able to contain himself, Cheng Qian exclaimed, “Shut up! You ignorant idiot! He’s a demonic cultivator who practices ghostism!”

The words “demonic cultivator” scared Han Yuan successfully. He was immobilized for a few seconds. His shock stretched across his face before it went pale and then finally exuded undisguised panic and fright. He screamed, turned, and ran away.

Cheng Qian straightened his back with mixed feelings—with Han Yuan here, he was restless; but as he ran off, Cheng Qian’s heart turned cold and hurt as if it had been pierced by an icicle.

But before he could repress these mixed feelings, he heard tottering footfalls from behind. Cheng Qian turned and saw the little beggar running back.

Han Yuan not only ran back but also carried a huge stone with him. He held the stone overhead, making a face as though he was going to throw the stone on the ghost’s head. He stared at the ghost in anger and interrogated him, “You… you’re a demonic cultivator?”

Cheng Qian went speechless—how could a stone help? Did you ever hear of any ghost being hit to death by a stone?

“I’m not a demonic cultivator.” Right at the moment, the ghost spoke. He said, “I-I’m just a ghost shadow…”

“Ghost shadow” was a soul that was extracted from a person and refined in a Soul-Consuming Lamp. When a ghost shadow was created, it would lose all of their mental abilities and be at the disposal of the demonic cultivator who created them.

“I… I escaped. I’m not a demonic cultivator.” The ghost was becoming more and more fluent. He looked at Cheng Qian and politely said, “Little boy, could I have that Heart-Purifying Charm?”

“Bullshit. Ghost shadows are all young girls, are you a young girl?” Cheng Qian sneered.

This ghost just looked like a girl’s father!

The ghost’s gaze switched from the Heart-Purifying Charm to the wooden sword in Cheng Qian’s hand. He went silent for a good while with a blank look on his face, as though he was looking back. After a while, he uttered, “Wooden sword… you’re a disciple of Fuyao Sect. No wonder at such a young age you can… you don’t know, that the first-class ghost shadows are cultivators’ primordial spirits, inferior ones are cultivators’ souls, and thirdly non-cultivator young girls’ souls. It’s just that young girls’ souls are the most accessible and the easiest to refine.”

“So what are you?” Han Yuan asked.

The ghost looked a little pained. He said softly, “A primordial spirit.”

Finishing that, he saw weariness and disbelief emerging on Cheng Qian’s face. So he bent and picked up the small stone that Han Yuan had tossed at him.

Cheng Qian’s pupils contracted. He knew that ordinary souls couldn’t materialize. If this man could pick up the stone, then he was indeed a primordial spirit.

But… only some powerful veterans had primordial spirits. And according to his observation, Cheng Qian was afraid that even his master didn’t have one.

Cheng Qian froze. In the end, he put away the wooden sword dejectedly. He had resigned to the fact that he stood no chance against a cultivator with a primordial spirit, whether the man’s words were true or not.

“I am Tang Zhen from Mulan Mountain. Speaking of which… I’ve met your master once,” said the ghost, somewhat absent-minded. “A hundred years ago, I fell prey to a demonic cultivator’s plot and my primordial spirit got trapped in his Soul-Consuming Lamp. Fortunately, I was not completely refined. By fluke, I escaped, but I lost my mental abilities during the one hundred years imprisonment and nearly forgot my name… I’m so lucky that you have a Heart-Purifying  Charm. Could you please… give it to me?”

Cheng Qian shilly-shallied for a few seconds. Then he put the leaf on the ground and cautiously took a dozen steps backwards grabbing Han Yuan. A trace of delight flashed across the ghost’s face. He reached out his hand and called over the leaf into his grasp. Instantly, the leaf gave off a stronger light than before and transformed into a cluster of white light which was sucked into the ghost’s body. The ghastly, bloody atmosphere and the stink around him disappeared in no time, and a healthy complexion emerged on his face.

The ghost who called himself Tang Zhen took a deep breath and made a deep bow to Cheng Qian and Han Yuan, saying, “Nothing but silent gratitude to your great help, though it isn’t much use, please send my regards to your master. The demonic cultivator Jiang Peng had a relationship with your sect, please tell him to be careful.”

With that, he vanished into thin air as though he had never existed.

“What did he mean?” After a long time, Han Yuan asked baffled, “Xiao-Qian, what did his words mean?”

Cheng Qian didn’t reply. His sight went dark and he slumped onto the ground.

Han Yuan was frightened. He pulled the boy up in a flurry. “Xiao-Qian, what happened?”

Cheng Qian’s ears were ringing and his limbs were so flabby that he couldn’t stand up. So he had to allow Han Yuan to clumsily carry him onto his back.

And the chief culprit was still chattering as he ran carrying Cheng Qian, “Speak to me, Xiao-Qian? Little Senior Brother?”

Cheng Qian was so nauseous that he almost threw up. With fingers clutching at Han Yuan’s clothes, he spat out a sentence using all his strength, “I’m going to tell Master. Han Yuan, you’re dead!”

Yan Zhengming’s words stunned Li Yun and Cheng Qian. Li Yun hesitantly asked, “So… he’s our martial uncle?”

Upon the utterance of his words, Li Yun felt like he was possessed by Han Yuan, and promptly kneaded his forehead in regret.

“Of course not, did the sect rules all go down your stomach? Once you’ve stepped onto the path of malevolent Taos like ghostism or slaughterism, you shall be expelled from the sect and never be allowed to return,” said Yan Zhengming sternly.

Silence filled the room.

Cheng Qian pulled himself back after a minute or two and murmured, “That means… the old friend is probably…”

He paused involuntarily, seemingly not sure how to address the person. He thought a good while before it came to him. “Err, former martial uncle.”

“Who else could that be?” said Yan Zhengming impatiently. “Fuyao Mountain isn’t the supreme headquarters of demonic cultivators.”

“First Senior Brother, what’s your opinion on this? Shall we just go ask master tomorrow?” Inquired Li Yun tentatively.

Yan Zhengming shook his head. Despite Master’s talkativeness, most of what he said was rubbish. When it came to something serious, he’d be like an oyster with his mouth zipped tight. Yan Zhengming definitely didn’t believe that they could pry something out of him. He deliberated for a while and said with a glimmer of hope, “Is there a way… that can let us find master’s whereabouts when he tries to throw us off?”

Cheng Qian had hung around the Library all day long. After he heard what Yan Zhengming said, a big heap of strategies came flooding into his head. But he rejected them one by one and at last, he found that the chances were near impossible—for them to track their master, the first condition was that one of them had to be more powerful than their master.

“I think it’s hopeless,” Cheng Qian said. “Unless second senior brother could get another toad and make master carry the smell of Toad Liquid on his body—but I’m afraid that second senior brother’s toad would fake death again upon meeting a strong demonic cultivator.”

“Don’t look at me; I have no idea,” Li Yun shrugged. “Once confronted with a formidable enemy, any creature with intelligence would be terrified. The ones that aren’t are too dumb to be utilized to track people.”

“Must have intelligence and won’t be terrified…” Yan Zhengming pondered over Li Yun’s words. “Hey, what do you think of Puddle?”

Cheng Qian rolled his eyes—neither did he believe that his junior sister had intelligence nor did he think that she wouldn’t be terrified. But the next second he suddenly got what Yan Zhengming meant. Though they didn’t have the ability to track their master, they could try to do something to their junior sister.

Since master always took the kid with him and she couldn’t understand human language yet, it definitely wouldn’t be found out.

After some discussion, the three got a batten and whittled it down to a slim piece. The well-read Cheng Qian provided the idea and Yan Zhengming was in charge of the manual operation, thus they got off to the rocky start of carving the tracking charm.

This tracking charm was very primary because Cheng Qian hadn’t read to the advanced part. But even so, first senior brother’s skills were so unexpectedly bad that he failed again and again.

Yan Zhengming shook his aching hand, feeling that he’d never been so diligent even in formal charm classes. He couldn’t help but vent his anger on Cheng Qian.

“What the fuck is this crap? Should I really rely on your memory?” seethed Yan Zhengming, staring at Cheng Qian.

He who couldn’t shit blames the latrine pit¹—Cheng Qian swallowed back this vulgar sentence and stuffed it into his eyes, looking first senior brother up and down with an explicitly disdainful gaze.

With Yan Zhengming and Cheng Qian quarrelling and Li Yun desperately trying to make peace, they finally finished carving the batten by midnight.

Yan Zhengming handed the baton to the yawning Li Yun. “I’ll leave this all to you from here. You try to attach this to her. Can’t believe I stayed up so late with you guys because of this goddamn thing.”

Who the heck was to blame? This was really a case of “the thief cries the thief.”

Cheng Qian was so sleepy that he felt lopsided. Leaving behind the ”Niangniang”², Cheng Qian doddered towards his own room. But when he just got to the door and was about to enter, he was called by Yan Zhengming who caught up.

“Wait, Xiao-Qian. I have a few words for you.”

Yan Zhengming’s height was growing fast this year as if he’d eaten some fertilizer, his voice gradually deepened, and he no longer sounded clear and melodious like a teenager. As long as he himself didn’t bluster loudly, he’d sound like a real mature man.

Cheng Qian had seldom heard his voice so solemn. He turned around, looking at Yan Zhengming puzzledly.

The young man stood straight behind him, drenched in the moonlight. His restlessness and willfulness seemed to be reduced by and melted into the dark. For this moment, Yan Zhengming didn’t look like himself.
There was a minute of hesitation before he said, “I left something out just now. In fact… I heard another sentence from Wen Ya.”

Cheng Qian frowned.

“He said that Fuyao Mountain was beautiful and bred talents, there would always be a devil in every generation…” Yan Zhengming’s voice faded out. He regarded Cheng Qian for a fraction of a second, feeling that this boy was like a fragile bamboo which appeared to easily break off, but was actually cold and hard. Nobody could tell how many difficult feelings he’d hidden in his heart. Yan Zhengming dropped his head a bit, whispering softly, “You know where your limit is, don’t you?”

Hearing that, Cheng Qian didn’t dig at him. He didn’t talk back either. He could hear the sincere care in Yan Zhengming’s words. Whether it was senior brother’s groundless fear or not, he had this feeling that Yan Zhengming said that just for Cheng Qian’s own sake. As first senior brother was always slothful and pampered, most of the time his junior brothers just gave in to him, thus Cheng Qian rarely found a sense of senior brotherness in him.

Until this moment.

Cheng Qian replied with a silent nod.

Yan Zhengming let out a relieving breath. He reached out his hand, placed it on the back of Cheng Qian’s head, and gently pushed him into the cottage.

“That’ll be the best,” said Yan Zhengming softly. Then he returned to his old self and pointing at Cheng Qian’s creased clothes, he said, “Get your clothes changed tomorrow. Don’t you think they resemble cleaning rags?”

Cheng Qian probably didn’t agree with him—his answer was a slam of the door, which blocked Yan Zhengming outside.

This night was indeed eventful. Sending Yan Zhengming away, Cheng Qian threw himself onto the bed but was woken again when he had just fallen asleep.

Compared to first senior brother who just kicked the door open and pulled him out of the quilt, Han Yuan was more of a nuisance—he stealthily knocked at the window lattice like a woodpecker pecking a tree, which made Cheng Qian terribly perturbed upon waking up.

Even when on the horseback, Cheng Qian didn’t drop his charm practices. These days, he’d suffered from the pain of growing and broadening his channels as well, which resulted in bad sleep quality. Being woken up twice tonight, Cheng Qian fruitlessly wished to kill the noise maker with a knife.

Han Yuan didn’t walk in through the front door. Under Cheng Qian’s expressionless gaze, he crawled in through the window and slumped down on Cheng Qian’s bed, whispering, “Guess what I saw just now?”

Cheng Qian didn’t want to guess. He fell back into his bed, face upward, and tucked himself into the quilt without saying a word.

“Hey, don’t sleep. Get up! I’ll show you something rare,” Han Yuan threw himself upon Cheng Qian and pulled his quilt with both hands. “You’ve definitely not seen it before. Xiao-Qian? Xiao-Qian!”

Cheng Qian doggedly refused to stick his head out and shouted to Han Yuan from underneath the quilt, “Go find Niangniang!”

Han Yuan was shocked. “You must be joking. I dare not. He’s bound to throw me into the censer.”

“Then go find Li Yun!” Cheng Qian rolled to the other side of the bed.

“I did,” said Han Yuan, complaining. “I almost set off firecrackers by his ears, but he just wouldn’t wake up.”

Cheng Qian: “…”

So he was the easiest to wake up and least likely to get angered!?

Han Yuan successfully pulled the quilt off Cheng Qian. Ignoring his restrained anger, he whispered into his ear, “Have you seen a ghost before?”

Cheng Qian was about to kick him down when he heard this sentence. His knitted eyebrows suddenly twitched. “What?”

A few moments later, Cheng Qian slipped out of the Shabby Inn with Han Yuan.

“There’s a fair in the town recently, so I hung out a little late,” said Han Yuan as they moved. “I took a shortcut on the way back—this way, mind your steps.”

Cheng Qian followed Han Yuan disorientedly. He gingerly avoided the mud on the road, unable to understand how Han Yuan got familiar with the environment in such a short time. Could it be a special talent of beggars who travelled extensively? Han Yuan was leading him to somewhere more out-of-the-way. Cheng Qian carried his wooden sword with one hand and gripped the burin which he used to practice charms with the other hand, leaving marks along the way by making small piles of stones, because he didn’t completely trust Han Yuan.

In the cold wind, Cheng Qian’s muddled brain was beginning to clear. He only then realized that he was influenced by first senior brother’s words about ghostism that he subconsciously followed Han Yuan out upon hearing the word “ghost”.

Getting out to see a ghost with a little beggar, that was…

Cheng Qian wondered if he had been infected by Han Yuan with some stupid disease.

All of a sudden, Cheng Qian shivered from head to toe.

Han Yuan led him to a river. He didn’t have the energy feel, so he only thought the shore was cold because of the late night dew.

But Cheng Qian already felt something abnormal about this chill as he had smelled a trace of an ominous stench in the air.

Cheng Qian gave a start. The last bit of drowsiness vanished.

“There can’t be real danger,” Cheng Qian calmly thought to himself, picking the leaf that had fallen on his shoulder and holding it in hand. “Or how could Han Yuan run back just now?”

Han Yuan cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Hey, where are you? I brought my little senior brother. Come out.”

Cheng Qian rose to cover Han Yua’s mouth right away. He asked gnashing his teeth, “What did you do?”

Han Yuan: “Umm… ummm…”

Mouth muffled, Han Yuan made eyes at something behind Cheng Qian. Cheng Qian looked back and his breath almost stopped.

A phosphorescent light had appeared behind him when he didn’t notice, and a male ghost with a pale face was standing there, his eyes dull and remote.

Cheng Qian swiftly pulled Han Yuan behind him. “Who’s there?”

Han Yuan finally struggled free of Cheng Qian’s hand. He patted Cheng Qian’s shoulder carelessly, saying, “It’s OK, don’t be afraid. I was also startled by him at first. But I soon found him stagnant and quite interesting.”

With that, he bent to pick up a small stone and tossed it before Cheng Qian could stop him. That stone flew straight through the ghost’s body and bounced twice on the ground. The male ghost looked down at the stone blankly as though he was sleepwalking.

Han Yuan said to Cheng Qian smiling broadly, “See?”

Cheng Qian only wanted to give him a slap in the face—when the stone went through the ghost’s body, he clearly sensed that smell. It was like stink but mixed with some disgusting bloody smell.

Corpse oil and boy’s blood…

At the moment Cheng Qian had no time to consider why the ghost would have let Han Yuan go just now. He only had one question, what luck had this little beggar got?

Last time he went to the Demon Valley, he encountered the rebellion of monsters; now on his night walk, he even met a demonic cultivator of ghostism!

That day, young master Yan didn’t even come out of his room to take his meals—if those meals could even be called human food.

He sullenly grabbed some desserts, and struggled to fall asleep in the evening.

Though the Taoist children had cleaned his room many times, Yan Zhengming still thought that the quilt stank and that the hard bed was uncomfortable. The room was muggy and suffocating, and no matter which incense Yan Zhengming burnt it couldn’t drive away his sullenness.

In short, this damnably shabby place made young master Yan question his entire life. No longer able to contain himself, he rose up from the bed, preparing to bother his master on the principle that if he was unhappy, he’d make other people unhappy too.

Leaving the Taoist children behind, Yan Zhengming stormed around the inn like a headless chicken.

Because the inn was too shabby and the shopkeeper looked like a bandit, nobody other than them had put up in this inn. As he passed by the empty yard and the many vacant thatched cottages which looked like haunted houses, Yan Zhengming found his poor master in the innermost one.

But after spotting Muchun Zhenren sitting with the shopkeeper, Wen Ya, he didn’t rush forward.

It was one thing to trouble master when he was alone, but Yan Zhengming didn’t want to humiliate him in other people’s presence.

However, as Yan Zhengming had gone through the trouble of finding him, he was unwilling to just go back. Young Master Yan dithered for a while before he reached into his pocket and took out a cicada’s wing.

Needless to say, this thing was made by Li Yun. There were five holes on the cicada’s wing so that after threading a line through the holes it could be worn on the neck. To a certain degree, this wing could impede other people’s senses so as to conceal the user’s existence.

Yet surely just what sophisticated toys was Li Yun capable of making? There was a limit to the wing’s function. It would have an assured effect if the wearer were standing far enough and was sufficiently careful, but functions like vanishing the wearer or making the wearer completely invisible were impracticable.

After rebuking Han Yuan for using it to steal a bird’s eggs,Yan Zhengming had taken this convenient tool for his own.

Yan Zhengming rounded to the other side of the cottage and climbed over the fence of the broken yard. He hid behind the cottage, waiting to jump in and argue with his master as soon as Wen Ya left.

Yan Zhengming had maintained his swordplay practice all year round, so he was more dextrous than a normal person despite not working all that hard. And under the cover of the cicada’s wing, he successfully managed to not disturb the two Taoists.

Yan Zhengming found a place to sit down so that he could wait for his master to send the guest away, and so that Yan Zhengming could finally complain to him.

Right at this moment, their conversation travelled into Yan Zhengming’s ears.

Wen Ya said, “I had a vision last year. I was wondering what it was about, and now you tell me it’s the Heavenly Monster. The birth of the Heavenly Monster, the rage of the Monster King, and the rebellion of those monsters—they must have resulted in a bloodbath in the Demon Valley. If HE had failed to put down the revolt and take the egg out… A Heavenly Monster born in blood… Tsk, it would have been more than a disaster for only Fuyao Mountain—speaking of which, where’s the Heavenly Monster? Did it hatch?”

Muchun Zhenren calmly answered, “It hatched and it’s right here in your inn. I’ll have to see her in a moment, lest she piss on your bed.”

Wen Ya: “…”

Presently Muchun Zhenren spoke again in a sterner voice when Wen Ya was distracted. Yan Zhengming could even hear that his volume lowered. “Do you know who that demonic cultivator with the title of Beiming was? And what connection did he have with our sect? Why was he willing to save our sect at the cost of one of his spiritual souls?”

Wen Ya: “Didn’t he tell you?”

Muchun Zhenren sighed. “Even though he is a strong demonic cultivator, sacrificing one’s soul would inflict serious damage on anyone. I haven’t seen him since that day.”

Hearing that, Wen Ya pondered before he said, “He asked me to hand THAT over to you and claimed to be a deserted disciple of Fuyao Sect. I thought you knew him.”

Muchun Zhenren said, “There have been many betrayers since the establishment of our sect. I even know the backgrounds of two lord Beimings, and there are yet many others who have kept their identities hidden… After all these years, how could I know who he is?”

“He hasn’t shown ill intentions, at least,” said Wenya. “It’d be better for you to think about how to deal with your old friend rather than worrying about a fragmented soul.”

Wen Ya deliberately lowered his voice on “old friend”, which sounded gloomy and deep with a strong foreboding, the sound conveying this big man’s fear.

Yan Zhengming was shocked.

Old friend?

When Muchun Zhenren remained silent for what seemed like ages, Yan Zhengming unconsciously straightened and craned his neck closer.

Finally, Master spoke.

“Brother Wen Ya,” said Muchun Zhenren calmly. “If I… please take care of these kids for me.”

Wait, what did that mean?

Yan Zhengming had spent all the intelligence he’d gained from the last sixteen years on this moment. He even forgot he was eavesdropping. His mind was racing with bated breath.

Wen Ya laughed mockingly. But Yan Zhengming didn’t know who exactly he was mocking.

“Come on. I’m just a nobody; how can I shoulder such a responsibility?” said Wen Ya. “What a place your Fuyao Mountain is! There’s always an evil cultivator in every generation. How could a nonentity like me take control of it? And also, haven’t you got a blockhead who was willing to carve charms onto his own soul to defuse the disaster for you? You may as well ask him for help,” said Wen Ya.

Muchun Zhenren knew what he meant, so he switched the subject tactfully.

They started chit-chatting faux-sprightly. The two middle-aged men spouted off like a gushing river about all the trifling stories in the cultivation world from the past 500 years.

When numbness struck Yan Zhengming’s legs, he was sure that he couldn’t obtain any more useful information. He only then cautiously stood up and slipped away.

In the hot June which seemed like a heated stove, his palms were all cold and sweaty.

Yan Zhengming left his master’s cottage and went straight to Cheng Qian’s place. It was already late in the night and Cheng Qian had already gone to bed. But now he was forcibly pulled out of his quilt by Yan Zhengming.

Being woken up from sleep for no reason, Cheng Qian glowered at Yan Zhengming, thinking of picking a fight with him.

Yan Zhengming, however, didn’t look at him at all. He picked up the clothes at the side of the bed and threw them at Cheng Qian’s face, solemnly ordering him, “Put on your clothes and come with me.”

His forehead knotting with a frown, Yan Zhengming paced around Cheng Qian’s room anxiously. He was so distracted that he neither noticed that the clothes at Cheng Qian’s bedside had already been worn by him today, nor found fault with the pickle-like wrinkles on Cheng Qian’s belt. He just kept urging Cheng Qian with a heavy heart.

From this detail, Cheng Qian determined that Yan Zhengming had something to say—something that, in Yan Zhengming’s eyes at least, was serious. He hastily put on an outer robe but before he could comb his hair, Yan Zhengming dragged him away towards Li Yun’s and Han Yuan’s places with his hair still in disarray.

However, they didn’t find Han Yuan. Ever since they gone down the mountain, that boy had been running around like a wild horse. At this moment, he was probably strolling somewhere around town.

Li Yun was still awake and working hard under the light of an oil lamp. Seeing the two coming together, he was quite surprised. But when his eyes fell upon the cicada’s wing on Yan Zhengming’s neck, he asked with a little doubt, “First Senior Brother… have you just eavesdropped?”

Yan Zhengming gave up looking for Han Yuan. He sat down in Li Yun’s room and absentmindedly told his junior brothers what he had just heard from Master while repeatedly wiping a porcelain teacup from the inside to the outside.

Cheng Qian exchanged a glance with Li Yun, took the porcelain teacup whose glaze was almost wiped out by Yan Zhengming, and poured a cup of cold tea which seemed to have been in the teapot for days. Yan Zhengming unconsciously picked it up and drank from it.

Frowning, Li Yun asked, “First Senior Brother, is it that… you know the ‘old friend’?”

Li Yun actually had a subtle mind; he was just too fond of heretical tricks, and lacked concentration. After contemplating the tea in the cup for a while, Yan Zhengming nodded. “Yes.”

“As I thought, it must be a demonic cultivator,” said Cheng Qian confirmed.

Yan Zhengming: “How do you know that?”

In fact, Cheng Qian had already thought it was strange—after listening to Master several more times while reading scriptures, he noticed that even though Master often talked nonsense, and even though contradictions existed in the different schools’ scriptures, one concept that ran through every theory was that “the great Tao is shapeless and conforms to the course of nature.”

Since it is shapeless, there is no right or wrong to it. All creatures reach the same goal by different routes. After his initiation, Cheng Qian had never heard any bad words about demonic or monster cultivators from his master.

Instead, it was the good-for-nothing first senior brother who bitterly abhorred them.

Cheng Qian: “When second senior brother talked about demonic cultivators last year in the Demon Valley, you shouted him down. That’s when I started to I feel that… first senior brother seemed to particularly ostracize Diabolism.”

Yan Zhengming waved his hand. “I was just afraid that he would misguide you.”

“Oh. Seems like you’re not afraid you’ll misguide us by sleeping in every morning class,” said Cheng Qian without blinking an eye.

Yan Zhengming: “…”

This bastard did have a sharp tongue!

Yan Zhengming rolled his eyes at Cheng Qian. After a period of silence, he said slowly, “I probably didn’t tell you how I met master. When I was 7 or 8 years old, I had thrown a tantrum because of some matter which I don’t remember now. I was very angry back then so I ran away, and after leaving my retainers’ sight, I was abducted.”

As the saying goes, as the boy is, so is the man. That was definitely something first senior brother would have done.

“It was a man that abducted me, a pretty handsome man. But he looked like he was desperately sick with a dead atmosphere,” said Yan Zhengming as he recalled. “He took us to a deserted Taoist temple.”

Cheng Qian blinked his eyes. “Us?”

“Us,” Yan Zhengming said. “There were 4 or 5 kids that were nearly the same age as me, but only one girl, the rest were all boys. That man was a demonic cultivator. I saw him seize the girl by her neck and pull out her three spiritual souls and seven corporal souls from her forehead instead of killing her directly. What was surprising was, after all that, the girl was still breathing and her heart was jumping even though her body was just an empty container. She struggled at death’s door for seven or eight days before she finally died. That was… my first time seeing someone die.”

That Yan Zhengming could still look back on every detail of that memory after nearly ten years proved how deeply it had been imprinted in his mind.

Li Yun was flabbergasted. “Why would that demonic cultivator kill kids?”

“He tossed the girl’s souls into a lamp with stinky kerosene. The flame flared up and never died out. Next it came to our turn. But he didn’t kill us directly either. He took blood from us every day and poured it into the kerosene. Except for the feeling of wanting to throw up, we didn’t feel anything terrible at first. But young children don’t have a lot of blood. Just a few days later, some kids couldn’t hold out and died.”

As Yan Zhengming retold the account, Cheng Qian found it more and more familiar to the ear. He blurted out, “Is that a Soul-Consuming Lamp…”

Li Yun: “What?”

Yan Zhengming suddenly changed into a serious look. “How do you know that?”

Cheng Qian: “I’ve read about it in the Library. Soul-Consuming Lamp could refine souls. The lowest class uses girl’s souls as a wick and uses refined corpse oil with boy’s blood as kerosene. After being burnt for 49 days, the girl’s souls would be refined into a ghost shadow. This is a certain type of diabolism called ghostism.”

Yan Zhengming shot his hand out and gripped Cheng Qian’s wrist. Stern in both voice and countenance, he said, “Cheng Qian, I opened the gate just for you to see how to bleed others and refine their souls!?”

That didn’t terrify Cheng Qian. He said with perfect assurance, “It’s not forbidden by master anyway. There are numerous different kinds of diabolism, I just browsed over a few.”

“Enough.” Li Yun was very clever. Seeing that they had strayed off topic, he immediately pulled the conversation back to its path. “First Senior Brother, please continue. What happened to the homicidal demonic cultivator later? Did master save you, and so you became his apprentice?”

Yan Zhengming shot a fierce stare at Cheng Qian. “Master did save me, but that’s not the point…”

On that point, Yan Zhengming involuntarily paused. “Master is acquainted with that demonic cultivator. I heard Master address him as ‘Senior Brother’.”