Chapter 201: The Talkative Veiled Moon

Clang clang clang…

Watching the Veiled Moon sword sway against the leather rein, springing open and shut, open again, then shut again, the faint sound it made was not only irritatingly smug but also strangely familiar.

“A bit like…”

He exchanged a glance with the Daoist. Their gazes both fell upon the sword’s pommel, and lowering their voices, they spoke in unison:

“Pudu Cihang!!!”

This hushed exclamation made Hong Lian and the toad, who had been singing by the bookshelf over there, poke their heads out to look.

A section of the sword hilt extended from his hand; three red jades glimmered in the sunset, and a faint voice seemed to be clamoring in the surrounding air:

“Shanzai, Shanzai —address me as Venerable Master!”

Lu Liangsheng’s slender brows knit slightly. With a flick of his finger, he struck the pommel with a pang. The hilt dropped with a swish, snapping shut with the scabbard in a ka.

“Seems it’s not Pudu Cihang.”

“It is, and it isn’t!”

By the roadside, inside the bookshelf strapped to the old donkey’s back, the Toad Daoist, with a rope tied around his waist, bit down on his pipe and exhaled clouds of smoke. Letting out a yawn, he lay on his side. Just as he finished saying the word “is”, the old donkey suddenly broke into a trot. The bookshelf jolted, and his round, stubby body tumbled straight out.

The rope snapped taut. The Toad Daoist, still clenching his pipe, wrapped his webbed limbs around it and dangled midair. With a “just as I expected” expression, he swayed back and forth, continuing:

“…as your master predicted, it should only contain a trace of Pudu Cihang’s spiritual awareness. After forming a sword spirit, it became muddled. Hmph, back in the day, this old master roamed the Three Rivers and Five Peaks—what strange and wondrous artifacts have I not seen?”

Over here, the Veiled Moon sword in the scholar’s hand slowly slid out a fraction, and in a faint voice, it cursed:

“Useless old toad!”

Then, with a shua, it withdrew again.

“You mother—dare to look down on this old master!!” Hanging from the rope, the Toad Daoist tossed aside his pipe, his limbs flailing in midair as he roared at the spiritual sword in his disciple’s hand:

“Last night you were clearly being beaten down by me—”

Hong Lian reached over and untied the rope wrapped around the Toad Daoist. With a pa, his webbed feet hit the ground, and with his pale, round belly thrust forward, he hurried over.

The toad planted his webbed hands on his waist, lifted his toad face, and shouted: “Come down if you dare to fight this old master!”

The sword hilt, together with a section of the blade, popped out—but before the Daoist could reach to grab it, it shrank back again.

“You’ve got numbers on your side. This Venerable Master won’t come out, won’t come out—come hit me…”

Bang!

The Veiled Moon sword slammed onto the ground. Lu Liangsheng’s toe suddenly came down and pinned it. Inside the scabbard, Veiled Moon twisted about, still shouting: “What are you doing?!”

The scholar raised his hand and snapped his fingers toward the old donkey that was lowering its head to graze nearby.

Over there, the old donkey’s long ears twitched. Hearing the sound, it turned its head, then bolted over with hooves flying and tongue flapping. Reaching its master, it stamped its hooves excitedly in place, letting out eager brays, as if waiting for the next command.

“Step on it!” Lu Liangsheng withdrew his foot and pointed at the ground.

The Daoist hurriedly ran off to a safe distance. Inside the scabbard, Veiled Moon let out panicked cries of “Hey, hey—”

“This Venerable Master connects below to the earth veins and above to the sun and moon—hey, hey, don’t—”

The massive donkey hoof loomed large over the blade. In the next instant, it came crashing down with a bang. Sparks burst forth in a flash, lighting up the faces of the two men and the toad.

“Don’t—

don’t—”

Veiled Moon’s voice trembled so badly that it couldn’t form a complete sentence. After quite a while, the hoof lifted. With a clang, the hilt popped out, and the sword lay limp on the ground.

“Behaving now?”

Lu Liangsheng picked it up and held it in his hand. A glow of spiritual energy gathered at his fingertip and brushed across it. The ancient blade trembled.

“Don’t touch, don’t touch—ticklish, ticklish… ah—”

As spiritual power poured in and he exerted force, the Veiled Moon sword shuddered violently, then fell silent. Only after a moment did it weakly reply:

“Behaving now.”

From afar, the sound of hoofbeats and voices approached along the road. To avoid alarming passing merchants and travelers, Lu Liangsheng stuffed his master back into the small door of the bookshelf, mounted the old donkey, and with a flick of his sleeve cast a concealment spell. He proceeded at a leisurely pace through the fields where farmers came and went on either side.

Amid the donkey’s swaying gait, he carefully examined the blade’s surface. Between the original carvings of drifting clouds and a clear moon, he noticed an additional subtle detail.

Beneath the carved half-moon, there was a line finer than an earthworm. Looking closer, the engraving coiled and twisted—faintly revealing clawed limbs, dragon whiskers, and horned features, carrying the faint impression of a force breaking through clouds and ascending to the heavens.

Only… it was too small, making the aura feel somewhat lacking.

Lu Liangsheng extended his divine sense into the blade. The original sword blank that had been forged was no longer there; in its place, abundant spiritual qi filled the entire artifact. In places the naked eye could not see, that spiritual qi wrapped around something the size of a flower bud, hidden within—like a tiny little person.

Withdrawing his divine sense, Lu Liangsheng laid the Veiled Moon sword across his lap. One hand formed a hand seal and pressed onto the blade to keep it from moving, his gaze fixed straight ahead on the road.

“Tell me about yourself.”

Feeling the power that could shatter it pressing down upon it, the Veiled Moon sword immediately did not dare to move. Only those near the old donkey could hear it speak in a low voice:

“This Venerable Master is far greater than that lump on the toad’s back—”

From inside the bookshelf came the toad’s voice: “Hm?!”

Mid-sentence, the Veiled Moon sword abruptly changed its tone.

“…not as good! Master, I am not Pudu Cihang. I was formed from the dragon qi he condensed together with the Veiled Moon sword blank—only retaining some of his memories…”

“So your current consciousness is independent?”

“Master is wise.”

Hearing this, Lu Liangsheng felt at ease. Given the temperament of a great demon like Pudu Cihang, it indeed wouldn’t behave like the Veiled Moon sword.

Besides… it was downright a chatterbox.

The sunlight slanted westward. The old donkey shook the bell at its neck with a jingling ding-dang as it galloped south. Within the rushing wind came the voice of the Veiled Moon sword, now back in its scabbard:

“…Hey, Daoist over there, I found in Pudu Cihang’s memories a formula that can change one’s appearance—do you want it?”

“Oh, right, do you have enough talisman paper? There’s a market town ahead—remember to buy some, or you won’t be able to keep up with Master’s old donkey.”

At the side, Sun Yingxian—having activated Divine Movement and Invisibility talismans—had his mouth twitching. As his arms and legs flailed in motion, he turned his head to look at the scholar sitting sideways on the donkey’s back, grinding his teeth:

“Can this Daoist beat that sword up for a bit?!”

Inside the bookshelf, the Veiled Moon sword trembled and slipped out a section on its own. Seeing Lu Liangsheng glance over, it shua—shrank back again.

It continued speaking: “Daoist, your fists aren’t iron—they’ll hurt.”

“Ahhh—this Daoist can’t take it anymore!!”

The Daoist let out a loud shout. Lifting the hem of his robe, his running feet suddenly shifted direction. His whole body shot forward like an arrow loosed from the bowstring, streaking ahead and kicking up a long trail of dust—several degrees faster than before.

Hehe…

As Hong Lian covered her mouth and laughed softly, the Veiled Moon sword on the rack suddenly turned its direction.

“Ah… this ghost lady elder sister, your voice is refined and extraordinary—have you ever been in an opera troupe?”

Hong Lian’s laughter came to an abrupt stop. She refused to speak to it, and her painting scroll tightened at once, blending in among the other scrolls.

Up ahead, Lu Liangsheng reached out and tapped the sword’s pommel.

“Don’t talk.”

“Oh.”

The Veiled Moon sword immediately went still. After a moment, it couldn’t resist popping out a bit of its hilt again—but Lu Liangsheng shot it a glance, and with a shua, it snapped shut into the scabbard. Seeing it deflated, Hong Lian finally laughed again from within the painting.

News of the emperor’s death sped along every official road. At this moment, two yamen runners on horseback galloped along the road toward He Valley Prefecture, carrying official dispatches. In the fields where furrows had been turned, farmers preparing to head home hoisted their hoes and watched as the two riders, with wooden document cases strapped to their backs, sped past.

Amid the thud-thud-thud of hooves, the two men cracked their whips.

“Hyah!”

“Brother! It’s getting dark—pick up the pace, let’s reach the city before night fully falls!”

“Don’t worry—at this speed, we’ll definitely make it. It’s not like some donkey could be faster than us!”

“Don’t mention donkeys!!”

“Hahaha, fine, then I’ll say people!”

As one laughed, the other yamen runner recalled a certain scene from before. Almost instinctively, he turned his head slightly, glancing behind.

Then… a figure flashed past the edge of his vision.

“Th-th-this…”

His voice stammered. He tightened the reins. The companion ahead slowed his horse slightly and looked back with a grin. “See a ghost or something?!”

The next instant—

That same fleeting figure shot past him as well, overtaking him in a blur. Its legs moved so fast they left afterimages, while two yellow talisman papers still fluttered in the air.

Both men’s eyes widened as they swallowed hard.

“…There really are people that fast…”

Thud-thud-thud…

Just as the words fell, a burst of somewhat familiar hoofbeats suddenly rushed over. The two men didn’t even turn their heads, their expressions blank as they stared at the road level with them.

A mangy old donkey trotted past cheerfully with huff-huff, honk-honk, carrying a person on its back.

The two glanced at each other, their tones flat.

“Let’s go, let’s go… It’s the same one from last time.”

The dust along the road gradually settled. In the distance ahead, the figure of the man and donkey had long since vanished. Following the official road onward, the setting sun melted into a streak of fading red atop the hills.

Amid the old donkey’s braying, dust rolled onward as they passed through He Valley Prefecture and Fushui County, heading toward Qixia Mountain.

Flocks of birds crossed the crimson clouds, flying over the forested hills.

Lu Liangsheng patted the donkey’s head, slowly bringing it to a stop. Taking the reins, he walked forward through the glowing red dusk, greeting the villagers and townsfolk returning home along the muddy road outside the village.

As if he had merely taken a short trip to the city.

Behind him, the Daoist—his shoe tips worn through—gasped for breath, trembling as he stretched out a hand and staggered along in pursuit.

“Old Lu, wait for me… this Daoist is exhausted…”