Chapter 122 – Thunder Rites and Demon Hunting

Chen Ping'an and his companions entered the mountains from the north, while another group happened to be traveling from the south. Leading them was an elderly Taoist, bearing a peachwood sword on his back and a string of silver bells at his waist. His robe was faded, his straw sandals worn thin—he hardly bore any air of immortality, more a picture of destitution.

Trailing behind was a dull-eyed, limping youth carrying a massive bundle, with a banner slung across his shoulder that read "Subdue Demons, Banish Spirits, Safeguard the Way." The fabric was worn pale from excessive washing, the once-bold characters now barely legible. Alongside them trotted a round-faced little girl, barely seven or eight, thin and slight, supporting the elder Taoist whose eyes remained mysteriously closed.

Suddenly, the Taoist lifted his head and "gazed" toward the distant, rolling green-black peaks. He exclaimed in surprise, "Hmm? These mountains aren't far from the Embroidered River's River God Shrine—yet the demonic aura here rises so brazenly into the heavens? There must be some hidden secret within. Though mountain and water spirits keep to their own realms, this place reeks of strangeness."

The rosy-cheeked girl asked with concern, "Master, what should we do? Last time at Mount San Zhi, you failed to catch the demon. The person who hired us got so angry they didn't even pay travel fare. We barely have any coin left… Should we take a detour?"

The Taoist scoffed coldly, "Detour? If this old priest hadn't stumbled upon it, fine. Let the demon run free and count itself fortunate. But now that it's crossed paths with me, how could I simply let it go? That banner of ours—'Exorcise Evil, Uphold the Way'—is not for show."

The little girl sighed, "Master… there's no one else around to hear you."

The old Taoist chuckled awkwardly, "Ah, just letting it roll off the tongue. I've yet to recover from the frustration of San Zhi Mountain. No credit given for effort, not even a single copper coin! Some people in this world truly are shameless and cruel. No wonder their ancestral tombs are haunted and their descendants plagued with misfortune…"

The girl gently reminded, "Master, don't you always say cultivators should maintain equanimity?"

A moment ago kind-faced, the old Taoist suddenly flared with rage. He twisted the girl's arm with bony fingers and snapped, "Who gave you the audacity to lecture your master? Still not done with your prattling?"

The girl cried out in pain, sobbing and begging for mercy, "It hurts! Master, I won't do it again—please!"

Without turning, the old Taoist slapped the bells at his waist, sending them ringing. With a sinister grin, he said, "You little wretch… you dare harbor murderous thoughts against your master?"

The limping youth remained silent, but blood began to trickle from his ears and nose. Still, he stood motionless, expression vacant.

The girl wept harder. "Master, please, spare my brother! I swear I'll fetch an extra pound of spring water within three days!"

The Taoist beamed, vigorously ruffling her hair, causing her slender frame to sway. "Not try—you must."

Finally releasing his grip, the old man laughed heartily. "Into the mountains! A fat horse grows only in wild pastures. This could be our stroke of fortune. I must admit, since you two little pests came along, though you freeload, my cultivation has found unexpected peace. Perhaps your master should treat you better in the days to come!"

The little girl helped the blind Taoist up the slope. The lame youth wiped his blood away, long accustomed to such abuse. The girl cast him a secret smile; he grinned back to show he was alright.

For more than half a day, the three wandered the forest, unable to locate the exact source of the demonic aura. The Taoist could sense its faint traces clinging to the grass and trees, but could never pinpoint its heart. He knew the demon must possess considerable cultivation, capable of cloaking itself with a grand illusion. Yet he refused to abandon the pursuit, sending the limping boy daily to scout ahead while he and the girl rested near the path. Occasionally, he'd take out a wooden compass—called a Reverse Disc, commonly used by Taoist cultivators and geomancers. It seemed ordinary enough, but the crimson needle at its heart, sourced from the bottom of Heavenly Lake, occasionally shimmered with golden light, revealing its hidden mysteries.

The sky grew overcast. Mist thickened. Rain seemed imminent. The old Taoist squatted beside the path, intently "watching" the compass as he chanted cryptically, "Forward and back, the twenty-four mountains hide riches untold. Upside and down, the twenty-four mountains conceal dragon lairs and tiger dens."

Putting away the disc, he turned toward the distant path and chuckled softly, "Ah, fortune approaches. Heaven never bars all roads. Looks like I'll have a few drinks when we reach Wanping County."

The little girl followed his gaze and saw a group approaching. She squinted and gradually discerned a boy in straw sandals with a large basket on his back, wielding a machete to clear the narrow mountain trail. Behind him were three youths: a young lady in a red cotton coat, a mischievous-looking boy, and a cold-eyed teenager. Each carried a small, bright green school satchel. A white donkey, laden with bags, brought up the rear.

She whispered, "Master… they don't look rich. Maybe we should let this one go?"

The blind Taoist arched a brow. "Even a mosquito's leg is still meat. As your half-master, surely you know how few coins we have left. That glutton of a brother of yours has eaten a small fortune. If not for my pity, how long would you two have survived in this cruel world?"

The girl quickly massaged his shoulders, her smile earnest and grateful. "That's why my brother and I never complain, even as your beasts of burden. But… if master must vent anger, could you do it when my brother's not around? That way, he won't get upset and you won't need to use the sect's harsh discipline on him."

The Taoist slowly stood, and the girl immediately stepped aside with hands folded respectfully.

The group approaching was none other than Chen Ping'an and his companions, journeying south toward Dafeng's frontier post of Yefu Pass. Chen Ping'an had already noticed the smiling Taoist and his cautious little disciple.

As they neared, the old man stroked his beard and declared in stilted official speech, "If this humble Daoist's eyes do not deceive him, you travelers have recently brushed with bloodshed. Do not fall into the trap of thinking survival ensures future blessings. In my view, a greater calamity still looms. Only after crossing that threshold will true fortune arrive."

Chen Ping'an's heart sank, though his expression remained composed. Li Baoping glanced curiously at the pale little girl, who blushed and smiled. Li Baoping returned the smile—and just like that, the two girls took a liking to each other.

Li Huai nearly blurted, "Aren't you blind, old man? How'd you see anything?" but the recent chaos on the embroidered river had taught him caution. He clamped a hand over his mouth, determined not to cause trouble.

The blind Taoist seemed to catch his thoughts and laughed heartily. "You might not know this, but our Daoist sect boasts ten great divine arts. One of them allows for the mind's eye to open, rendering heaven and earth clear, banishing phantoms. I happen to possess this very gift. I wouldn't claim mastery, but I've achieved a certain refinement. I see not with eyes, but with the spirit—through your very auras."

Lin Shouyi, calm as ever, responded, "A sage of Confucius once said: 'Do not speak of monsters, miracles, and mysteries with strangers on the road.'"

The Taoist was taken aback, then sighed. "Very well, then. As the Buddhists say, the Dharma saves none without karmic ties, and the Dao offers no rescue to the ignorant. Be on your way. May your journey be safe. If misfortune truly arises, just shout—"