Volume One: The Discarded's Journey—Fiery Demon-Slaying Chapter Forty-Six: The Gluttonous Spirit Tiger—An Omen in the Stars

They had originally thought they would only need to spend a night outside, so when they left Fu Family Village, they’d only brought a day’s worth of dried rations. With the summer heat, the food wouldn’t keep long, and to make matters worse, they’d run into a phantom beast that had nearly cost them their lives and delayed them for half a day. As soon as the fire was lit, the eight of them sat in a circle, their stomachs growling with hunger.

They glanced at one another, and in the end, all their gazes fell on Chen San.

Chen San looked at Chang Yu in confusion. “Why are you looking at me? I haven’t bathed in over ten days. Want to try gnawing on me?”

Chang Yu grimaced in disgust. “Can you stop talking about your bathing habits? It’s nauseating. The young master looked at you first, so I looked at you. I have no interest in you, hmph.” With that, she turned her head away.

Chen San turned to Yang Chengzi. “What now? What scheme are you cooking up? I’m not having any part of it.”

Yang Chengzi smiled. “How do you know what I want before I say anything?”

Chen San shook his head with a pout. “Nothing good ever comes from you thinking about me. Not interested.”

Yang Chengzi scooted closer, slung an arm over Chen San’s shoulders in a brotherly fashion, and said, “Be good. Call out the Spirit Tiger and have it catch us some wild rabbit or pheasant. Otherwise, they’ll all go hungry.”

Chen San scrutinized Yang Chengzi’s face. “That’s it?” Yang Chengzi nodded.

“If we eat meat, what about you and the master?”

Yang Chengzi pointed at the reclined monk. “The master and I still have some dried rations. We’ll eat those.”

At this, the monk Sui Chang interjected, “Amitabha, I broke my vows to eat meat and drink wine more than twenty years ago. Meat and wine may pass through the body, but the Buddha resides in the heart. It’s no matter—catch me an extra pheasant. I’m wounded, after all, and could use some wild game to recover.”

Yang Chengzi grinned at the monk. “Master, you’re truly free-spirited. Eating some meat will help you heal faster.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? It’s your time to shine. If you don’t show off now, when will you?”

Chen San furrowed his brow, remembering he still owed the Spirit Tiger a roasted rabbit. He hadn’t called for it in days—would it have forgotten?

Seeing Chen San’s troubled expression, Yang Chengzi asked, “What’s wrong? You look like something’s bothering you.”

Chen San shook his head. “Not a big problem. It’s just… when we went to Cold Mountain Temple, you and the master both fainted. I bargained with the Spirit Tiger, promising it roast chicken and rabbit if it carried you both there. I still owe it a rabbit. It ignored me and ran off, so in the end, I had to drag and carry you myself. I never made good on the roast meat. Now, if I call it out to work, I doubt it’ll listen.”

Chang Yu glared at Chen San, even more repulsed. “You’re terrible—cheating even an animal. How did I end up knowing you?”

Chen San rolled his eyes. “Hmph, I’m not thrilled either. It was you who insisted on getting to know us.”

Chang Yu couldn’t refute that and muttered, “Still, you’re no good.”

Ignoring her, Chen San turned to Yang Chengzi. “Should I call it out and try to negotiate?”

Yang Chengzi nodded for him to hurry up. Chen San hesitated, then closed his eyes. A flash of light appeared in his mind.

With a thunderous roar, a silver-white tiger materialized behind Chen San. Chang Yu and the young men, seeing such a massive white tiger, were so frightened they nearly wet themselves, scrambling over each other to cower by the master’s side. The monk Sui Chang, however, remained calm, eyes closed and chanting scripture.

Hearing the tiger’s roar, Chen San turned to see the Spirit Tiger circling beside him. He reached out to pat its head, but the tiger shook him off in disdain, signaling him to stop.

Unwilling to give up, Chen San hugged the tiger’s head, rubbing against it, and said with a grin, “Brother Tiger, heh, long time no see. I’ve missed you. Don’t be like this—we’re comrades in arms. Your little brother has a favor to ask.”

The Spirit Tiger let out a disdainful growl. Chen San, realizing it was unwilling, tried again, “Come on, Brother Tiger. I’m in trouble, you’ve got to help me. Didn’t the old man ask you to look after me?”

The tiger nudged Chen San away and, after two circles, lay down.

Chen San turned to Yang Chengzi, looking aggrieved. “I tried. If it won’t help, there’s nothing I can do. Looks like we’ll be going hungry tonight.”

“Chen San, is that really a tiger? It’s so much bigger than any I’ve seen before, and it’s white—how beautiful.” Chang Yu’s fear had turned into curiosity; she’d never seen such a giant tiger in the city.

Chen San forced a laugh. “That’s my Brother Tiger—the Spirit Tiger of Chen Family Town’s back mountain, full of spiritual energy. Just a bit temperamental right now.”

“Does it bite? Can I come closer?”

“I couldn’t say. It doesn’t bite me, but I don’t know about you. I’ve seen it bite bad people, though.”

Yang Chengzi, seeing Chang Yu’s curiosity, explained, “This is the Spirit Tiger, like the Three-Tailed Fox—it’s born of heaven and earth’s spiritual energy, domineering and fierce. It can deal with ghosts as well as any priest. Don’t worry, it won’t bite unless Chen San tells it to, and with its intelligence, it won’t harm people.”

Realizing Chen San was just scaring her, Chang Yu glared at him.

Chen San offered a sheepish smile. “Why don’t you come over and see for yourself?”

“I just want to feel its fur. This silver-white coat is beautiful—so majestic. If you dare let it bite me, I’ll bite you back.”

“Go ahead—you’re free to look. I wouldn’t dare, and it doesn’t always listen to me anyway.”

Chang Yu walked over and began to stroke the white tiger, its fur gleaming in the moonlight, irresistibly soft beneath her hand.

Yang Chengzi shook his head at Chen San, then addressed the Spirit Tiger, “Brother Tiger, doesn’t Chen San still owe you a roast rabbit?”

The tiger threw back its head and roared at Chen San, nearly deafening him.

“How about this: you catch us plenty of game, and tonight you can eat your fill. The fire’s already going.”

At Yang Chengzi’s words, the Spirit Tiger immediately began drooling and dashed off, startling Chang Yu.

Chen San, annoyed, shouted, “Well, I’ve been calling you Brother Tiger all this time and got ignored, but you run at a stranger’s word. I’m going to tell the old man—I want a refund on this Spirit Tiger. The contract’s useless!”

“It’s not that the contract is useless. You’re the only one who can summon it, so it’s plenty effective. But the Spirit Tiger is highly intelligent. You can’t treat it like an animal. Like the Three-Tailed Fox, it just hasn’t taken human form yet. As a Spirit Tiger, it’s not necessarily dumber than you. It sees right through your little tricks.”

“Are you praising it or calling me a fool?”

“Well, you decide. Get ready for roast game.”

Chen San sank into thought, seriously considering whether the Spirit Tiger was smarter than he was.

There was no time for further contemplation. The Spirit Tiger soon returned with two wild rabbits in its jaws. After several trips, it brought back a wild dog, four rabbits, three pheasants, and a wild deer.

That night, Chen San and the young men were busy plucking and roasting the game. In the end, he ate last, while the Spirit Tiger feasted and, satisfied, left, leaving Chen San sulking all night.

It was Chang Yu’s first time eating such roasted game, sprinkled with aromatic leaves the monk had picked and a pinch of salt he carried. The meat was so delicious that she ate her fill, her mouth glistening with oil, eyes shining as she looked at Chen San.

“Chen San, that tiger is so impressive—and it can catch rabbits, too. Honestly, you used to look like a ruffian, but now, with that majestic tiger, it’s different.”

Chen San was surprised at the compliment. “Ah, so you do have some taste. Well, what do I look like now?” He patted his clothes and straightened his posture.

Chang Yu burst out laughing. “Like a ruffian with a tiger.”

Chen San’s proud expression immediately fell flat. He rolled his eyes and flopped onto his back, arms outstretched, gazing at the stars.

Yang Chengzi and the others lay down as well. They hadn’t had a day’s rest—always on the road, always fighting monsters and dealing with all sorts of troubles.

In fact, Yang Chengzi hadn’t left the mountain in ages. Though this trip was at his master’s command, he’d wanted to come down and see the world for himself.

For cultivators, perhaps his heart was not yet tranquil enough, but for a young man like Yang Chengzi, the world was vast, and slaying monsters and demons was far more thrilling than cloistered cultivation.

This journey had been dangerous, even life-threatening, but the experiences far surpassed the thirty-odd years he’d spent honing his body and spirit on the mountain.

As he gazed at the stars, he pondered how to face Chang Yu. She was special to him—he’d never spent so much time with a woman before, and Chang Yu had come to find him, to hold him accountable. But he was a Daoist priest, with all the flaws and hardships that entailed. Being with him could bring her nothing good, perhaps even death.

He glanced at Chang Yu. She was watching the stars, eyes blinking with joy and contentment. Clearly, although she hadn’t eaten or dressed well these days, she was happy—a sensible girl. Her presence made the journey less lonely.

Yang Chengzi sighed and closed his eyes. He couldn’t predict the outcome with Chang Yu. He’d take things step by step. If he could get her home safe and sound, that would be enough. The future could wait.

Suddenly, Yang Chengzi’s eyes flew open—not because he sensed danger, but because of what he’d seen before closing them.

On a midsummer night, the stars shone especially brightly. As a Daoist, he was long familiar with the constellations, which is why Daoist masters could observe the heavens and divine fortune.

But tonight, the star patterns were in chaos, forming an image of stars clustering about the moon. To the uninitiated, this seemed auspicious—all the stars surrounding the moon, just as people gathered around an honored one. But in Daoist astrology, this configuration portends disaster: beset on all sides, with enemies everywhere.

Yang Chengzi abruptly pulled Chen San up. “What’s your birth date and time?”

Chen San’s soul had been damaged, and though the Revitalizing Nine-Turn Pill had saved his life, the healing required deep sleep. Now, half-asleep, he was bewildered when yanked awake, squinting around in confusion.

“Don’t mess around. What’s with the birth date in the middle of the night? Our money’s almost gone—save your fortune-telling for later. What’s the rush?”

Yang Chengzi, deadly serious, grabbed him by the collar and stared him down. Nervous, Chen San stammered, “Fine, fine, fine—here you go: Xin Chou, Jia Wu, Ren Chen, Ren Shen. Satisfied? Now let me sleep.”

Monk Sui Chang sat up. “Daoist Yang, is there something wrong with the stars?”

“Yes. The stars are clustering about the moon. I need to see if this relates to Chen San. He’s carrying a great formation, gathering spiritual energy. I fear the evil forces have sensed it and believe it to be some treasure. If this sign points to Chen San, we’re in serious trouble.”