Heaven-Subduing Scripture

By the campfire.

A short old man leaned on a staff, hunched, seeming most aged.

Yet in the firelight his shadow was huge, like a two-legged beast — especially that tail, fully over ten meters long.

He trembled as he stepped over the young Daoist’s corpse and came step by step before the middle-aged Daoist.

On his aged face ran a sword-scar, slow to heal; his eyes glowed with an eerie light in the night.

Upon the middle-aged Daoist’s hands and feet each pierced a yellow hair, golden like a needle, nailing him to a tree.

Dense demon-qi seeped in through those hairs; the middle-aged Daoist was ashen, coughing up blood without cease.

When he saw his disciple drained of yang-qi and dead, a flicker of grief crossed his eyes.

He hated — hated that Li Feiyu had taken his Red Cloud Sword; else, with the dharma-sword in hand, even if he could not win against this terrifying demon, at least he would have had a thread of hope to flee.

”Wha… what demon… I… I am…”

The old man sneered and cut him off. ”I know — you are Xu Qingxuan’s disciple. The White-Browed Sword Immortal is truly famed; that stroke just now was impressive indeed — pity it was but a sword-intent, not the true body.”

”Mas… master, he… will not… spare you!”

The old man’s eyes flooded with venom. ”Spare me?”

He beckoned; a vermilion demon core flew from the middle-aged Daoist’s bosom into his hand.

Looking at the core, the old man’s eyes showed a pang of grief.

”You killed my only child, flayed and boned him, gouged out his demon core — and still dare say you will not spare me?”

The old man’s eyes turned blood-red; his staff struck the ground and his body grew taller, bursting his skin to reveal yellow fur, a long tail, fangs and claws.

Under the moonlight stood a hill-sized yellow weasel, its fur a red-gold, its long tail glowing as if drinking the moon’s essence.

”This seat is called the Yellow Immortal; eight hundred years of cultivation, at peace with the world, much given to good — yet you coveted the demon core, harmed my flesh and blood, destroyed my lineage. This hatred is mortal!”

The middle-aged Daoist was filled with remorse!

Again it was that demon core!

For his greed in seizing the core, he had lost the Red Cloud Sword, his disciple was dead, and now he had drawn upon himself an eight-hundred-year great demon!

”You have the wrong man — that yellow-skin was not killed by me; it was… it was Li Feiyu!”

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The middle-aged Daoist cried desperately.

But his voice ended at once, for that long tail pierced his throat and drained his yang-qi and mana.

The middle-aged Daoist’s plump body swiftly shrank to skin and bone, and he breathed no more.

Only those unclosed eyes still held a shred of regret.

The Yellow Immortal turned again into the old man’s form; he closed his eyes and, by searching the middle-aged Daoist’s soul, saw the truth of his child’s death.

A clear-featured young Daoist appeared in his mind — that man was the true killer!

”Li Feiyu…”

The Yellow Immortal intoned the name, eyes brimming with killing intent.

Though the man was a personal disciple of Longhu — an identity that gave him some wariness — the hatred of a son’s murder is mortal; at worst he would flee to the ends of the earth after his revenge.

…

Li Daoxuan knew not how long he ran, until the sky began to light and he saw a great city not far off, and at last breathed relief.

By now his back was soaked with sweat.

Shrinking-the-Earth for a whole night had drained his mana greatly; to save the time of breath-regulation he had used several of his master’s Longevity Talismans.

Besides healing and mending wounds, the Longevity Talisman also restores mana.

He came to the city gate; the sky’s edge had only just shown fish-belly white, the gate not yet open, but a few scattered figures already waited there.

Seeing the Daoist-robed Li Daoxuan, they all glanced sidelong.

Now Li Daoxuan was drenched in sweat, his hair in disarray, as if he had just met robbers.

Li Daoxuan minded not their gaze; he found a quiet corner, set the oil-paper umbrella aside, and began to sit and regulate his breath.

In the distant forest, a pair of glowing eyes gazed at Li Daoxuan, brimming with venom.

It was that eight-hundred-year Yellow Immortal!

In any other city he would have appeared without hesitation and swallowed Li Daoxuan in one bite.

But this was Yuzhang City!

In his eyes the whole of Yuzhang City was shrouded in a clear qi, faintly revealing some terrifying existence.

A true great one — an immortal walking the mortal world!

The Yellow Immortal had cultivated eight hundred years, yet was only late Yin-Spirit, not yet touching the Yang-Spirit threshold; while the Lady in Green was a ghost-immortal above Yang Spirit!

The gap between the two was as cloud to mud — so the Yellow Immortal dared not act rashly, even though the Daoist had not yet entered the city.

After a moment’s thought he at last hit on a plan.

Enduring the pain, he plucked a golden hair hidden beneath his tail, blew a breath of demon-qi upon it, and muttered words.

The golden hair slowly drifted down, then, like a plant, grew — becoming another Yellow Immortal.

The two were identical in face and bearing, without difference.

The only distinction was perhaps their cultivation: the true body was late Yin-Spirit, while this avatar he conjured was but early Yin-Spirit.

”Go — follow him close.”

The avatar bowed to the true body, then leaned on his staff and walked slowly to the city gate, at last stopping at Li Daoxuan’s side.

Li Daoxuan, meditating, felt a prick of wariness; he opened his eyes and saw an old man standing beside him, very aged, panting with every step.

”Old sir, here is a step; your body is unwell, so I yield it to you.”

Li Daoxuan helped him sit, then rose and left, sitting elsewhere to meditate anew.

He shook his head, thinking himself over-sensitive; when he had helped the old man he had deliberately poured in a thread of mana, yet found his body hollow, with no anomaly.

A flicker of after-fear crossed the avatar’s eyes; just now he had in fact been weighing whether to strike, but the moment the thought of acting arose, a great terror rose in his heart.

Not only the avatar — the true body as well!

As if some terrible eye watched from the dark, forbidding any move.

Very well; he would follow this little Daoist, and strike once he left the vicinity of Yuzhang City!

Time slipped by; as the crows’ cries rose one after another, a red sun broke the dawn, and day turned to night’s opposite.

Li Daoxuan observed the old man without show; he found that at the rooster’s crow the old man gave no reaction, and could walk openly in the sunlight.

This let fall his last doubt.

Were it some dirty thing, it could not so easily bathe in sunlight — unless it were a great demon of the deepest attainment.

But such a demon, to kill him, would hardly need disguise…

Just then the city gate trembled and slowly opened.

At the first quarter of the mao hour, the Yuzhang city gate at last opened…