Chapter 88
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Pudu Cihang…
A gentle breeze stirred, causing the forest and fields bathed in the remnants of the setting sun to sway lightly.
Lu Liangsheng silently recited this name, tilting his face slightly as he gazed at the ritual altar under construction. Right in the center of the stone steps—weren’t these very characters inscribed there?
“Venerable Master has remarkable boldness.”*
“Young Master Lu, on the other hand, possesses extraordinary composure.”
With just a word of flattery, the scholar had opened the conversation. Though the figure within the ceremonial palanquin of Pudu Cihang remained motionless, there was a hint of delight in his tone.
“Venerable Master overpraises me.”
Lu Liangsheng withdrew his gaze from the distance, focusing on the silhouette within the palanquin. The question in his heart could no longer be held back.
“May I ask, Venerable Master, from where exactly does this so-called affinity between us arise?”
As soon as the words fell, the scholar suddenly felt something trembling within his sleeve. He glanced at Pudu Cihang, then reached into his sleeve—his fingers brushed against the fabric-covered brush handle, which writhed in his grip as if it were a living thing.
This…
Lu Liangsheng looked toward the veiled palanquin, and in his mind, a scene from three years ago, on the night of his second visit to Fushui County, resurfaced as vividly as if he had returned to that very moment.
Flames flickered, casting shadows over long, dancing whiskers. A massive, sinuous insect twisted and writhed.
Two insect-like eyes, glowing like lanterns, rose into the air and gazed at him.
“You inadvertently guided me, allowing me to grasp this opportunity—this is a favor I cannot ignore. This toad, as well as yourself, I shall spare today. Leave at once!”
“It was you!”
Lu Liangsheng’s grip on the brush tightened, his fingers curling inward one by one. His brows furrowed deeply—so the revered Guardian of the Nation Venerable Master before him was, in truth, that giant centipede from that very night! By this reasoning, he truly was its so-called fated one.
Just then, the maids standing at either side of the palanquin lightly lifted a corner of the veil.
A pair of black, pointed shoes stepped forth, parting the hem of a cyan robe. Within the scholar’s field of vision appeared a frail and withered old man, his sallow, sunken face accentuating his small stature. Dressed in a yellow monk’s robe and a long-eared monk’s cap, his appearance was bizarre beyond words.
What made Lu Liangsheng even more uneasy was that, despite the figure before him being that of an old man, the voice that emerged was a woman’s—clear and cold.
“The world judges by appearances, yet they fail to realize that a heart of compassion is the true path to enlightenment.”
Lu Liangsheng nodded, cupping his hands in salute. His tone was neither heavy nor light. “Venerable Master speaks true. I was too attached to appearances. However, did Venerable Master summon me merely for old times’ sake?”
“To repay a debt.”
Pudu Cihang’s voice carried no emotion. He walked past the scholar’s side, gazing at the setting sun beyond the forest.
“This Venerable Master must thank Young Master Lu. Had it not been for your brushstroke that night, I would not be here today.”
“Did Venerable Master not already repay that debt by sparing me that night?”
“…Hahaha…” Pudu Cihang turned his face slightly, his eyes cold as ice. He pressed his hands together in the Fearless Seal and bowed faintly. “A debt must be repaid in kind, a favor returned with another. Now, this Venerable Master and Young Master Lu shall owe each other nothing.”
At that moment, two maidservants approached, carrying a long tray draped in white silk. A long shape protruded from beneath the fabric.
Pudu Cihang turned back and lifted the silk, revealing a sword.
“This sword was obtained from the imperial palace, once the personal weapon of the founding emperor of the Chen Dynasty. Yet in the hands of a mortal ruler, it remained but an ordinary blade, left to gather dust in the imperial treasury. But Young Master Lu, as one who walks the Dao, should be able to see that this is no common sword.”
On the tray, the sword’s scabbard was covered in dust, its surface etched with fine patterns. The hilt was made of bronze, adorned with three red jades—one large, two small—likely added later for ornamentation.
Lu Liangsheng took up the sword and, with a crisp clang, drew it from its sheath. The blade was ancient and unadorned, a finger’s width wide and approximately four feet one inch in length. It exuded a chilling aura without a gleam of light. Upon closer inspection, delicate patterns spread across its surface, drifting like wandering clouds, revealing the image of a cold moon.
“A magic artifact…”
The scholar ran his fingertips across the sword’s patterns—floating clouds and moon alike. A faint hum resonated, a vibration perceptible only to those with cultivation, carrying the flow of spirit energy.
“It seems Young Master Lu is quite pleased with this sword.”
Pudu Cihang turned away, hands still forming the Fearless Seal, and strode past the scholar, heading directly toward the ceremonial palanquin. Lu Liangsheng lifted his face, his voice suddenly calling out.
“Venerable Master, wait!”
Sheathing the treasured blade, he stepped forward swiftly.
“Forgive my boldness, but I must ask—was it Venerable Master who sent people to pursue—”
Up ahead, the retreating figure halted. An aged face turned slightly to the side, eyes narrowing.
Lu Liangsheng’s words came to an abrupt stop. He recalled that Pudu Cihang had already stated they owed each other nothing. If he were to directly bring up the pursuit of Chen Jing, would that not give the other party a reason to kill him?
The two locked eyes for a few breaths before Pudu Cihang ascended the ceremonial palanquin. The curtains fell on either side, and the wind suddenly picked up, white mist surging outward in all directions.
Sha… sha… sha…
Sha… sha…
Leaves rustled lightly. A shadow slipped through the thin mist, creeping closer. Four pairs of eyes peered toward them from the darkness.
“Such heavy demonic energy.”
The forest remained silent as the mist spread. Perched on the lurking figure’s shoulder, a toad rolled its bulging eyes, scanning through the white fog until it locked onto a silhouette.
“I see Liangsheng…””Lower your voice. Don’t alert them.”
A breeze swept in from ahead, carrying faint traces of the conversation between the two figures.
The scholar, sword in hand, cupped his fists once more. Though wary of the Venerable Master’s cultivation, he met his gaze openly.
If a direct question would not work, then he would have to ask differently.
“Venerable resides within the imperial court—why is that?”
“For cultivation.”
The wind quieted. The response was simple, almost dismissive. The palanquin had already turned around, the procession preparing to depart. A line of maidservants and monks moved past the scholar, and the palanquin briefly halted just two steps away.
Inside the curtains, the small, withered figure gazed forward but spoke again to the scholar outside.
“Young Master Lu sees only the fear and unease of the capital’s people. But has he also seen the demons lurking in the shadows, preying on innocent lives? This Venerable has, in a way, safeguarded this land.”
“When autumn arrives, men hunt the mountains and seas, skinning their prey and taking its flesh to survive. But during the spring and autumn examinations, fox demons lie in wait along the roads, preying on scholars rushing to the capital—for their own cultivation. Is that not the same as humans hunting for sustenance? This Venerable Master resides in the imperial palace, assisting the emperor in strengthening the nation’s fate—cultivating in the process. That is all.”
Lu Liangsheng did not believe a single word, but there was nothing he could do. He had once heard his master say that this centipede spirit had only reached the Spirit Connection Stage in the past, yet now it had directly entered the stage of Transformation.
All he could do was watch as the chanting procession disappeared into the mist.
At the same time, not far ahead, the underbrush rustled. The Daoist priest watched the procession move past, his fingers reaching toward a yellow silk pouch.
“They’re here, just in time to rid the world of this fiend—”
The webbed foot on his shoulder pressed against the back of his hand. The Toad Daoist shook his head gravely.
“You can’t beat it!”
Sun Yingxian withdrew his gaze and looked at the toad, who turned its face to the side and lowered its voice.
“Why are you looking at me? I can’t beat it either!”
Just then, the procession suddenly stopped in front of the grass where the man and the toad were crouching. The moment they sensed it, a loud croak—”Guaa!”—broke the silence.
The halted procession, however, continued chanting, striking bronze bells, wooden fish, and golden cymbals as they slowly moved forward. Moments later, they gradually disappeared into the mist.
“Phew!”
The Toad Daoist lay on Sun Yingxian’s shoulder, peering out from the grass. Watching the thickening mist, it stood up, crossed its webbed arms behind its back, and let out a heavy sigh.
“If I were at my peak, how could I allow such a minor demon to strut about so arrogantly?”
“Stop boasting, old toad. Did you see what kind of demon that was?” Sun Yingxian still felt lingering fear—when the procession had paused, he had distinctly felt an indescribable pressure.
“A centipede.”
The answer came from Lu Liangsheng, who had just walked over. As he approached, he wiped the fine sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. Though that Venerable Master emanated an air of serenity, the truly terrifying part was—how could a demon radiate the aura of a Buddhist master?
He recounted his entire conversation with the centipede demon to his master and Sun Yingxian.
“It’s not just Buddhist aura—it also carries imperial dragon energy… It took inspiration from you and found a shortcut.”
The toad climbed onto his disciple’s shoulder, crossed its webbed arms, and snorted.
“Furthermore… this demon has yet to fully reach the Transformation stage. It’s deliberately suppressing itself. But its cultivation is undoubtedly formidable.”
Lu Liangsheng tossed the treasured sword in his hand to the Daoist to play with, then turned to his master on his shoulder, frowning slightly.
“Cultivation can be suppressed?”
“Why not?”
The Toad Daoist swayed with his disciple’s steps, thoughts swirling. Then, as if struck by a sudden realization, his webbed fingers froze at his chin, and his bulging eyes widened.
“…It wants to transform into a dragon!”
