Chapter 185: The Toad Daoist’s Complicated State of Mind

Da-da-da—

The sound of hoofbeats gradually faded into the distance. Inside and outside the dilapidated little courtyard, everyone looked at one another, until in the end their gazes all fell upon the old man.

“Minister, we meant no offense with what just happened. What should we do now?”

“Exactly. If the State-Protecting Venerable Master is truly a demon, then wouldn’t His Majesty be in grave danger?!” ”Shouldn’t we go back as well?”

“Go back? Wouldn’t that be sending our Minister straight to his death?”

As the guards and the officers of the Imperial Apprehension Office spoke among themselves, the old man sat on a stone stool in silence for a long while. He lifted his snow-white head and looked toward the drifting clouds; now and then, one or two birds flew across his field of vision.

Acting on impulse and following Zuo Zhengyang back to the capital would be an unwise move. The old man had not yet grown so senile as to make such a decision.

“We’re leaving. To Qixia Mountain!”

Before long, the group hurriedly finished packing. They swung themselves onto their horses and headed back east, following the routes recalled from memory, making their way toward He Valley Prefecture.

“Move out!”

“Hyah!” “Hurry, keep up!”

Amid the cries of their mad dash forward, hooves thundered along the road, kicking up long trails of dust. The road beneath their feet stretched eastward, while another force was likewise skirting around He Valley Prefecture.

On the way, they encountered a funeral procession. Having completed the burial, the mourners were returning to the city. Sun Yingxian and Min Yuerou could only step aside to let them pass, taking the opportunity to rest by the roadside.

“Daoist Sun, just how high is Young Master Lu’s cultivation in the Dao? Can he defeat the State-Protecting Venerable Master in the capital?”

Along the journey, Min Yuerou had grown more or less familiar with the Daoist, and her manner of speaking had become somewhat more casual.

Nearby, watching white funeral banners flutter one after another as spirit money filled the air, Sun Yingxian raised a hand to brush aside a yellow paper talisman drifting toward him. Then, for some reason, he grabbed it back and stuffed it into the cloth pouch at his waist.

“He can’t win… he probably can’t win.”

At once, a smile spread across his sharp-featured, monkey-faced countenance. He stroked his handlebar mustache with a fingertip, then tilted his head toward the woman. “But this Daoist is different. I specialize in subduing demons and expelling devils. Ordinary mountain spirits and wild monsters? Dealing with them is as easy as drinking water.”

“Now, now—take this moment for example. If this Daoist weren’t looking out for you all, I’d have long since used an escape technique and vanished to the ends of the earth. How could I still be trudging along at a snail’s pace, keeping you company like this?”

The funeral procession on the road had passed halfway. Amid the drifting white banners, the Daoist vaguely caught sight of a familiar woman within the crowd—clad in sackcloth and mourning white, holding a child in her arms, sobbing softly as she walked.

His bragging faltered. He frowned, then looked more closely at the woman’s profile as she was about to pass, and understanding dawned on him.

So it’s that fox demon, Yanzhi… It seems Zhang Liancheng really is dead.

“Daoist?”

At that moment, Min Yuerou’s voice sounded from the side. “We’ve rested enough. Shouldn’t we set off again?”

The Daoist turned back and nodded repeatedly. Whether Zhang Liancheng was dead or not had nothing to do with him. There were more pressing matters at hand. By the time everyone finished preparing and he glanced back once more, the funeral procession had already disappeared into the distance.

The group set out again, heading toward Fulin Prefecture. They pressed on without pause, and with the Daoist occasionally affixing Divine Speed Talismans to their horses, their pace was noticeably faster than on the way here.

As they galloped along, Min Yuerou spotted a familiar stretch of road. She pointed ahead and shouted to the Daoist:

“That intersection up ahead—that’s where I was separated from my father!”

Following this road ahead, the mountains wound on in gentle succession. On one side, amid the forested wilds, a troop of horsemen had taken up position and were resting there. Seeing this, the nine approaching from this direction immediately slowed their pace. They first drew near with caution, but when they caught sight of the faintly discernible elder who appeared to be leading the group, Min Yuerou’s expression instantly softened into a smile. She urged her horse forward and galloped toward them.

“Father!”

Over there, the old man had naturally also seen the woman riding swiftly toward him. He pushed aside those blocking his way and went to meet her. “Yuerou, did you suffer any hardships on the way?”

“No.”

Min Yuerou wiped the corner of her eyes. Seeing that her father was safe and sound, joy rose naturally in her heart. “Why is Father here? And why are there so many more people?”

Her gaze passed over the old man’s shoulder, where she saw more than ten additional men, all clad in official robes.

“I only arrived here not long ago as well. They are Zuo Zhengyang’s men.”

Zuo Zhengyang?

At that moment, the earth suddenly split open, and a head popped out from the soil, startling the surrounding guards and members of the Imperial Apprehension Office. When the old man saw that it was Sun Yingxian, he quickly raised his hand to signal for them not to panic.

“Where is Zuo Zhengyang?” The Daoist wiped the dirt from his face and glanced toward the crowd ahead. “Why isn’t he here?”

The old man took out a silk handkerchief and handed it to him. “He returned to the capital first. Little Daoist, it’s been a long time. By the way—where is Liangsheng?”

“Behind us. His pace is slower, though he’ll probably head straight to the capital.”

Hearing this, Min Changwen nodded. “Cultivators do indeed conduct their affairs in such a manner.”

To the side, Min Yuerou recounted everything that had happened along the way. When her account was combined with the matters on the old man’s end, it left the three of them in a difficult position. Sun Yingxian had originally come to rescue Min Changwen, but now that the man was perfectly safe here, his task could be considered complete. As for returning, Lu Liangsheng was likely already on the road to the capital.

…Then should this Daoist go, or not?

And would this father and daughter go as well?

“I am the Minister of Personnel of the current dynasty… If I do not go, I would be unworthy of this official robe.”

Sunlight poured down, falling upon the old man as he mounted his horse and turned it northward. His long beard beneath his chin, streaked with white, was gently brushed by the wind. Then he looked toward the Daoist and his daughter, a smile spreading across his face.

“Mr. Shuhua was not afraid to die. This old man is not afraid either. Let us go!”

He squeezed his horse’s flanks, urging it into motion. Behind him, the others mounted in turn, raised their whips, and, together with Min Yuerou, followed closely in pursuit.

“Hey—utterly reckless!”

The Daoist stamped his foot, gritted his teeth, and activated his escape art. He burrowed into the earth, a small mound of soil bulging upward as it rapidly spread forward.

Fulin Prefecture was far more prosperous than He Valley County. Along the official road, merchants and travelers came and went without cease. There were also nearby farmers, idle during the slack agricultural season, traveling in groups of three or five to the city to seek manual labor, earning a few taels of silver to cover expenses for the latter half of the year.

On the distant road leading north toward Tianzhi, a party of fast riders galloped onward. Worried that the old donkey’s speed might draw too much attention, Lu Liangsheng chose mountain paths where there were relatively fewer people.

The mountain roads were rugged, yet their pace did not slow by much.

“Whoa—”

After passing Fulin Prefecture, the daylight began to slant. Lu Liangsheng glanced at the westering sun and brought the old donkey to a halt, letting it wander nearby to graze on tender grass. The scholar walked beneath a tree, brushed his hand across the ground, and summoned a gust of wind that swept away fallen leaves and dust.

Only then did he sit down. From his sleeve pouch, he took out some dry rations and broke them apart, casting a glance toward the book rack placed on the ground.

“Master, it’s time to eat.”

With a creak, the small door of the compartment opened. The Toad Daoist emerged, stretched lazily, smacked his lips, and dragged over a small tobacco pipe before sitting beside his disciple. He took the dry rations, hugged them to his chest, and let out a yawn.

As he chewed, his toadlike eyes flicked toward the scholar’s refined profile, watching him read through his books while eating. The eyes blinked once or twice, memories of the past surfacing. His gaze shifted to the Veiled Moon Sword hanging from the book rack. After a moment of silence, he let out a long, heavy sigh.

“Master, what’s wrong? If the rations don’t suit your taste, I’ll set up the small pot and cook for you.”

Just as Lu Liangsheng stood up, the Toad Daoist suddenly reached out with a webbed hand and rested it on his disciple’s knee.

“Liangsheng… this master thinks you’d better not go to the capital.”

Author: The Toad Daoist’s grand performance is about to begin, but I need a bit more time to brew it. What follows, involving Pudu Cihang, will be earthshaking.