Chapter 169 – The Toad

The night wind moaned and whistled as it swept past the eaves, squeezing through the narrow crack of the door. The oil lamp flickered. The kitchen, crowded and full, smelled faintly of smoke and grease. A mottled old hen dozed off, nestled in a pile of firewood. No one spoke — only the da-da of chopsticks tapping against bowls echoed through the room.

With several swift movements, the shadows of chopsticks rose and fell. The plate piled high with fatty wild boar meat was soon emptied, its bottom revealed. Lu Laoshi leaned back against his chair, patting his belly with satisfaction.

“Ah… it’s been so long since I’ve had the taste of wild game from the mountains.”

Across the table, Lu Xiaoxian was tearing off a big chunk with her teeth, only to have her chopsticks knocked by Li Jinhua. She begrudgingly chewed smaller bites and secretly rolled her eyes at her mother — only to notice the Daoist, bowl in hand, staring fixedly at the few remaining pieces of pork fat on the plate.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

Sun Yingxian looked at the greasy sheen on the meat, scalp tingling, and hastily averted his gaze. His chopsticks changed direction and picked up a stalk of greens, which he shoved into his mouth.

“This Daoist abstains from meat today, I’ll pass.”

“So strange,” Lu Xiaoxian muttered, pouting. Seeing Li Jinhua glance her way from the stove where she was washing pots, the girl quickly grabbed a piece of vegetable and stuffed it into her mouth, lowering her head obediently.

Across from her, Lu Liangsheng quietly set down his bowl and chopsticks. “I’m done,” he said, rising to help clear the dishes. Once finished, he pushed open the door and walked out. Following the eaves, he returned to his room. A flick of his finger — and the dim flame of the lamp brightened, casting warm light across the room.

By the bedside, the Toad Daoist was lying on his back, one short leg propped up and swaying lazily in the air. Between his webbed fingers, he held a piece of wild boar meat, half fat, half lean, savoring it slowly.

When he saw his disciple enter, he opened his mouth as if to speak — but the scholar had already taken a few old books and sat quietly under the oil lamp, turning the pages with full concentration.

The soft rustle of paper filled the silence. The Toad Daoist opened his wide mouth and gulped down the last piece of meat in one bite. He rubbed his now-round belly, swung his short leg, and sat up.

Standing at the edge of the bed, he gazed at his disciple’s back, sighed softly, then clambered down to the floor and shuffled to the door. Sitting outside, he rested his chin on one hand, looking toward the kitchen where laughter and chatter drifted through, then lifted his gaze to the half-moon hanging above the eaves.

Creak…

The kitchen door opened slightly. The Daoist poked his head out, spotting the old toad sitting beneath the eaves, and quietly tiptoed over.

“Your disciple kicked you out?” he whispered.

The toad didn’t answer. The Daoist tilted his head, cautiously peering into the room through the narrow opening. Within the flickering circle of lamplight, that calm and handsome side profile remained wholly absorbed in the turning of pages.

“As expected, he’s a bit better-looking than me.”

“Shameless.”

The Toad Daoist turned his head and spat in disdain. “That’s all you can see?”

“You mean Old Lu has something weighing on his mind, don’t you?”

Sun Yingxian withdrew his gaze, squatted down beside him, and rubbed the short beard on his chin. “This Daoist feels he seemed in quite a good mood today, though.”

The toad gave him a sidelong glance and said flatly, “Good mood, my ass.”

Then he sighed softly and lifted his eyes back to the moonlight.

“Liangsheng has been burdened by guilt over his late mentor all this time. I’ve lived long enough to know— I’ve seen more cultivators than you’ve seen people.”

After saying that, he sighed again. His webbed hands pressed against his thighs as he stood up.

“Let this old one help him. I must, at least, be worthy of the word ‘master.’”

The Toad Daoist told Sun Yingxian to stay in the kitchen and not let anyone come out to disturb him while he cast his spell. When he saw the Daoist still standing there without moving, he hopped over and smacked him on the knee.

“When this old one performs a spell, it’s not for your eyes to pry upon. Go inside, quickly.”

“Yes, yes, I’m going.”

Seeing the Daoist reluctantly shuffle back into the kitchen, the toad clasped his webbed hands behind his back, staring at the warm yellow glow spilling through the window lattice. Then he waddled out beyond the eaves, and the warts on his back began to stir and bulge.

A faint purple mist slowly seeped out.

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Inside the room, the night wind squeezed through the window. The oil lamp flickered; Lu Liangsheng raised his hand to shield it from the draft lest it go out. After a moment, his brow furrowed slightly.

Suddenly, the wind rose, and within it came a familiar voice, drifting in from outside the window.

“Liangsheng…

Liangsheng…”

Mentor?

Lu Liangsheng lifted his head. The window lattice creaked open under the wind. In the courtyard, the old tree rustled in the moonlight— and there, beneath it, stood his departed teacher, clad in a gray robe, a scroll in hand, bathed in silvery light.

Inside the room, the scholar stepped out. As one who walked the path of cultivation, he naturally understood the existence of spirits and deities. Thus, when he saw the soul of his late teacher, there was no fear—only joy. He quickly clasped his hands and bowed deeply, just as he had in the past.

“Liangsheng greets his revered teacher.”

“No need for formalities.” The figure of Wang Shuhua wavered slightly as he raised a ghostly hand in a polite gesture, a faint smile upon his face.

“It has been long since I last saw you. Liangsheng, you’ve grown much thinner.”

Lu Liangsheng frowned faintly at the man’s movement, but still replied, “Your student has been traveling through the northern lands of Zhou, eating in the wind and sleeping under the dew. Naturally, I’ve lost some weight—but it’s nothing serious. In fact, doesn’t that make me look more spirited?”

“Hehe…”

Wang Shuhua chuckled softly, waving the scroll in his hand and gesturing for the scholar to stroll with him through the courtyard.

“Though your teacher’s body perished, I am still aware of your affairs, Liangsheng. And I know that what you said earlier wasn’t entirely true.”

His words paused for a moment. He lowered the scroll and clasped his hands behind his back before continuing, “Liangsheng, you need not blame yourself. Though your teacher’s body has perished, my soul remains intact. Moreover, the City God of Tianzhi has shown me mercy and granted me a minor post as a clerk in the Office of Rewarding Good. I came today just to tell you this.”

But suddenly, their footsteps halted. Wang Shuhua turned around in surprise—only to find the scholar’s arm grabbing his shoulder.

“Master, forget it. You can drop the act now.”

“Eh…”

The Wang Shuhua’s froze. In an instant, the illusion collapsed. The sounds of night insects filled the corners once more, and the rustling of tree branches returned to the quiet courtyard. Lu Liangsheng bent down, picked up the Toad Daoist lying on the ground, and set him upon his shoulder as he walked back beneath the eaves.

“How did you know it was me pretending to be your mentor?” The toad asked, unable to hold back his curiosity. “I thought this old one’s act was flawless!”

“There were two things,” Lu Liangsheng replied, brushing the dust from the ground before sitting down. He raised two fingers.

“My teacher’s way of walking wasn’t like Master’s.”

Lu Liangsheng curled his fingers slightly.

“The second thing—there are no clerks in the City God Temple… And besides, Master, have you forgotten what Liangsheng is best at? Illusions.”

The Toad Daoist blinked in surprise, then smacked his lips after a long pause.

“Couldn’t you at least let your master enjoy pretending a little longer?”

Looking at his master, Lu Liangsheng actually withheld one more truth. Ever since forming his Golden Core, he had become extremely sensitive to demonic qi…

After a while, he spoke again, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

“I know why Master did this. Don’t worry—Liangsheng has his own way to deal with that Venerable Master.”

“You’re only at the Golden Core stage! You can’t even break through that Soul-Claiming Brahma Chant!“

At that, the Toad Daoist’s tone turned sour. He hated that his soft-hearted disciple still wanted to avenge that old scholar. With a huff, he folded his webbed arms and turned away.

“What way could you possibly have? You only entered the Dao because I guided you in! Even I can’t deal with him—how could you?”

“Master.”

Lu Liangsheng could feel the concern in his master’s tone. Looking up at the bright moon in the sky, he smiled and said, “That Venerable Master worshiped Buddhism to death; I shall take the opposite path — greet death to celebrate life. Why shouldn’t I give it a try?”

Seeing he could not dissuade his disciple, the Toad Daoist shook his head, jumped down from Liangsheng’s shoulder, and waddled back into the room. He looked up at the oil lamp on the table.

“Do as you please.”

The clear moon was veiled by drifting clouds. As the long mountain ridges sank into darkness, to the north of Fushui County, the official road blazed with firelight. The flames stretched like a dragon, and the thunder of hooves rolled forward. Within the glow of torches, banners fluttered wildly.

“Hyah—!”

A commanding shout split the night, echoing from horseback.

“Rear infantry, quicken your pace! By imperial decree—surround Mount Qixia!!”

The banners streamed in waves. Feet pounded the ground, kicking up clouds of dust. Spears and halberds rose like a forest among the endless columns of soldiers, stretching as far as the eye could see.