Volume Two: A Time of Turmoil, Twists and Turns Chapter Eighty-Seven: Reinforcements Arrive Too Late; The Great Power of the Dharma

“It was Elder Jingfeng from our sect who observed the heavens by night and noticed unusual phenomena in the northwest direction. The pivot star flickered, teetering on the brink of collapse, while the stars Tianji and Yaoguang had shifted positions, revealing an omen in the Northern Dipper. The elder said that the last time such a phenomenon appeared was decades ago, when the True Man of Taiyuan succeeded as the head of the Three Pure Ones Temple and became the Celestial Master. He thus set up an altar to divine the cause, and the augury revealed that a calamity had risen in the true north, with demonic energy shrouding the sky.

Ancient texts of Mount Longhu record that a primeval demon was sealed within the boundaries of Chen Family Town, which lies precisely to the north. Therefore, the Celestial Master commanded several of us to bring the demon-suppressing artifact and rush to his aid. However…”

“We are grateful for your efforts, fellow Daoists. The great demon manifested ahead of time. My master, another Daoist, and a Buddhist master of great power forcibly sealed the demon, but at a heavy price. The Buddhist master sacrificed his golden relics to reinforce the seal, while my master and the Daoist suffered grievous injuries to their souls. Fortunately, Dao Yi and the others arrived in time, and with the Nine-Transformation Rejuvenation Pill, they stabilized their souls and preserved their lives.”

“Why did the great demon appear ahead of schedule?” Lu Yiming asked Yang Chengzi in astonishment.

Yang Chengzi shook his head. “It’s a long story. Let’s go inside and talk.”

Daoqing and Daoming carried Chen San into the old Taixuan’s house, laying him beside the elder, and at that moment, Chen San’s face was ashen, even paler than Taixuan’s.

“We should leave. The stinking Daoists from Mount Longhu have arrived. Killing him won’t be so easy now, and there’s no sense in dying for nothing. Guang’ao’s death was truly miserable, and it's a pity about those evil artifacts,” said one of three black-robed figures watching Lu Yiming’s party and Yang Chengzi enter the house from afar.

“Should we retrieve his artifact?” another asked.

“No need. That artifact has accompanied him for decades; without his blood, it’s useless—no different from a rotten log.” With that, the three shadows vanished.

Lu Yiming’s group met the True Man of Taiyuan. Though he had rested for three days, his soul remained gravely damaged. He merely nodded, saying nothing.

Yang Chengzi and Lu Yiming sat down, while the other disciples helped Chang Yu prepare food. After days of travel, their rations were long gone, and hunger gnawed at them. Soon, smoke curled from the kitchen chimney.

Yang Chengzi recounted the events with the great demon and the black-robed men. Lu Yiming was astounded; he hadn’t expected that after sealing the demon, so many sorcerers would still hunt them. Yang Chengzi, too, was puzzled, until a sudden realization struck him.

The black-robed men weren’t after Yang Chengzi and his companions—their true target was always the Celestial Master of Mount Mao, the True Man of Taiyuan. Since Mount Longhu knew the Celestial Master was here to seal a demon, it’s likely the sorcerers also knew the demon’s origin. With the Celestial Master’s soul gravely injured, it was a rare opportunity.

No wonder wave after wave of black-robed men threw themselves into the fray. Fortunately, disaster was averted, and thanks to the timely arrival of Mount Longhu’s people, they avoided catastrophe.

Afterward, Yang Chengzi asked the town mayor to arrange lodgings for them. Learning they were Daoists from Mount Longhu, the mayor dared not be negligent and quickly made arrangements. After all, this was Chen Family Town—having such guests was a rare occurrence.

According to Lu Yiming’s view, since they’d arrived late, they should stay and watch over the True Man of Taiyuan until he was mostly recovered and could be escorted safely back to Mount Mao. Only then would they dare return to Mount Longhu and report; otherwise, they’d have no face to return with. Should anything happen to the head of Mount Mao, the common people would suffer, and Yang Chengzi was only too glad to have them stay.

The next day, Chen San finally awoke groggily. His face had lost its deathly pallor, but upon waking, he naturally didn’t remember how fierce and domineering he’d been.

Yang Chengzi, of course, didn’t indulge his arrogance. He made no mention of Chen San’s slaying several black-robed men, instead emphasizing how much blood Chen San had lost, how his body was weakened, and how the ancestral Daoist soul had dissipated before it could vanquish the demons.

This frustrated Chen San terribly. He’d thought that the soul’s power was unmatched, that he could single-handedly destroy them all; in the end, he blamed his own weakness and looked thoroughly unconvinced.

Old Taixuan, sitting nearby, was so amused his nose wrinkled with laughter. When Chen San awoke, Taixuan, though not fully recovered, could sit up in bed and meditate.

When Chen San saw old Taixuan watching him, he thought he was dreaming—until Chang Yu, exasperated, gave him a slap. Only then did he come to his senses and throw his arms around the old man.

This time, Taixuan didn’t knock him on the head. “You did well. You didn’t disgrace me.”

Chang Yu, wiping away tears, went out to bring him a bowl of vegetable porridge. Because of a deep gash in his palm, Chen San couldn’t eat by himself, so Yang Chengzi fed him.

Though the ancestral soul’s power had been overwhelming, Chen San’s body couldn’t withstand it. Before half a stick of incense had burned, the soul had dissipated, leaving his own spirit mostly intact, though he’d lost much blood drawing the blood talismans. Compared to spiritual depletion, blood loss was the greater harm. Dao Yi gave him warming, restorative pills, so his recovery was swift, and he wasn’t left debilitated.

In the face of Monk Suichang’s passing, old Taixuan, though sorrowful, was not surprised. When the three of them learned the demon was a Chimei Wangliang—a primeval calamity demon—there were only two options left.

One: Monk Suichang could burn away all his Buddhist power, turning his golden body into relics to suppress the demon.

Two: The True Man of Taiyuan could use the Eight Great Mantras to cripple the demon further, then Taixuan and Suichang could jointly seal it with Daoist incantations.

Either way, one of the Daoist or Buddhist masters was fated to perish. From the moment the demon emerged, Suichang began burning his soul and Buddhist power, invoking the Three-Lifetime Lotus Seal. His death was inevitable.

The True Man of Taiyuan and old Taixuan could only endure the demon’s assault to give Suichang time to complete the sealing mantra. Furthermore, Daoist sealing arts are far weaker than those of Buddhism; lesser demons would not notice, but sealing a calamity demon like Chimei Wangliang—the outcome was clear.

If a Daoist patriarch perished, even the strongest Daoist seal—the Four Symbols Divine Seal—could only hold the demon for a few centuries.

Monk Suichang’s Three-Lifetime Lotus Seal, with his golden relics, suppressed the demon. The Ksitigarbha Buddha’s hand drew the golden lotus into the icy hell. Until the relics dissolve the demon’s energy, the lotus will remain locked in the frigid inferno for thousands of years.

A few days later, the True Man of Taiyuan and old Taixuan had largely recovered. With the demon-suppressing artifact and Lu Yiming’s group still present, they decided to deal with the phantom demon inside Chen San’s body.

For days, the two elders pondered a solution. The phantom demon was sealed by both the spirit of the three-tailed spirit fox and Chen San’s own soul. If they tried to draw out the phantom demon with exorcisms, the fox would surely suffer, and with its soul already fused with Chen San’s soul base, any misstep could injure Chen San as well.

The matter was grave. In the end, the elders decided to temporarily seal both Chen San’s and the fox’s souls, hoping to lure the phantom demon out and then destroy it. Though risky, even the two old masters had never encountered a situation with two souls sealing a demon.

Sealing the two souls was not difficult. They drew a soul-sealing talisman on Chen San’s back, sacrificed a chicken for blood, and laid an Eight Trigrams Spirit Trap.

Chen San, Lu Yiming, Yang Chengzi, and the two elders entered the array. Chen San removed his shirt, and Yang Chengzi drew the talisman. To slay the phantom demon, they chose the dawn hour.

When the talisman was finished, Yang Chengzi began the incantation, and Chen San immediately lost consciousness, collapsing. Yang Chengzi supported him, laying him flat to await the demon’s appearance.

Lu Yiming gripped the Heaven-Shrouding Seal of Mount Longhu, ready to invoke its spirit to suppress the demon should it emerge. Yang Chengzi’s Shangqing Sword was drawn, its blade glowing with the Northern Dipper Mantra, while the elders stood by with their own spells.

A gust of wind passed. Half a stick of incense burned away, and all of them were drenched in sweat; Lu Yiming’s arms ached from holding the seal, yet not a trace of demonic energy emerged from Chen San.

The two old men were baffled. Sensing with their hands, they confirmed the demon’s presence beneath the soul base, and that both Chen San’s and the fox’s souls were sealed. Why, then, wouldn’t the phantom demon emerge?

Yang Chengzi frowned, perplexed. The last time, the demon had barely been sealed for half a day before it tried to take over Chen San’s soul and escape. Now, given the chance, it refused to come out—was it waiting for a formal invitation?

The soul-sealing spell couldn’t be maintained long, or Chen San would be in danger. With the demon refusing to emerge, there was nothing to be done.

They wiped away the talisman on Chen San’s back, and he slowly regained consciousness. Standing up, he beamed at them.

“All done? I didn’t feel a thing. You Daoists are amazing. If I weren’t planning to get married, I’d want to become a Daoist myself.”

Seeing their grim faces, Chen San worried he’d spoken out of turn and gave a sheepish grin.

“Hey, do you all want to get married too?”

A thump—someone rapped him on the head. Clutching his skull, Chen San winced as old Taixuan glared at him.

“You’ve no business thinking of marriage yet.”

Chen San, rubbing his head, grumbled, “Hmph, you’re just jealous I get to marry.”

Yang Chengzi shook his head. “The phantom demon hasn’t come out yet—who’d dare marry you? The greatest danger in life is overthinking.”

Chen San froze. “What? It’s still inside me?”

His knees nearly buckled, and he clung to Yang Chengzi for support.

Yang Chengzi gave him a disdainful look. “Look at you, so cowardly. It’s just a phantom demon. After being inside you so long, maybe it’s picked up your cowardice and dares not face the world.”

Hearing that it was the demon itself refusing to come out, Chen San’s legs grew weaker still. He stammered, “Then—then what do I do? Is my body just full of these things? You have to do something! I don’t care—if the little fox were cute, fine, but this demon is all bones and a man, too! I’m not putting up with it.”

The True Man of Taiyuan shook his head, smiling. “Don’t be anxious. It’s already been inside you this long—another ten days or so won’t matter.”

Chen San’s eyes sparkled as he grabbed the old master’s hand. “Old man, do you have a way?”

All eyes turned to the True Man of Taiyuan, Chen San’s gaze especially bright.

“There is a way. If the demon won’t come out, let it be. You and Yang Chengzi should go somewhere—there’s someone who can help you extract it.”

Yang Chengzi’s eyes lit up. “Really? If even you and the master can’t do it, who else can?”

The old man chuckled. “There’s always someone better in the world. If we can’t do it, it only means the Daoist path isn’t the answer—but the Buddhist path might be.”

“Old man, just tell us. This is my future at stake!” Chen San was desperate.

“Daoism and Buddhism can both exorcise demons and suppress evil, but their methods differ greatly. Daoist arts are imbued with righteous energy, which directly counters ghosts and demonic auras. That’s why Daoist exorcisms are particularly powerful, more so than Buddhist ones.

Buddhist magic, however, is rooted in compassion. Although some monks can destroy demons, their foundation is mercy. Unless absolutely necessary, they prefer to redeem and seal demons rather than destroy them, and their sealing spells and rites of salvation are superior to those of Daoism—especially in sealing.”

Chen San was thoroughly confused. “Old man, just tell us simply—who do we seek, and where?”

“My master means a high Buddhist monk.”

“Yes. There’s a monk named Du’e, a master at Pu Xian Temple. Years ago, he and a group of monks redeemed a thousand-year-old demon, using Buddhist magic to dissolve its evil and send it back into the six realms. He may have a way to deal with your phantom demon.”

Yang Chengzi and Lu Yiming were astonished—a thousand-year demon redeemed? Chen San, though, didn’t dwell on it.

“Where is Pu Xian Temple? Let’s get ready and go!”

Yang Chengzi was puzzled—he’d never heard of it. What the True Man of Taiyuan said next left both Chen San and Yang Chengzi crestfallen.

“I don’t know the exact location—only that it’s to the south, much farther than Mount Longhu.”

Old Taixuan was amazed. “Senior brother, you don’t know where it is? Then how do you know all this?”

“A few years ago, that high monk visited our Mount Mao, seeking to ease worldly suffering and to offer penance for the thousand-year demon.”

“That filthy monk?” Yang Chengzi recalled him.

The True Man of Taiyuan nodded, and he and Taixuan, chatting as they went, headed inside.

“You should have asked where Pu Xian Temple was.”

“The monk came as a guest; I hosted him, but I wasn’t going there myself—why ask? A general direction is good enough.”

“You old fool, have a little foresight! Now what? How are those two blockheads supposed to find it?”

“Head south, of course. They have a direction, don’t they?”

“It’s like going to Hanshan Temple—it was right under their noses, and they still wandered for days. Given only a direction, who knows if they’ll return in a year or two?”

“They’re a bit slow, but I doubt they’ll fail…”

The two old men disappeared indoors, leaving Yang Chengzi and Chen San out in the cold, looking especially forlorn.

Lu Yiming gave Yang Chengzi a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Go without worry. We’ll escort your master and Dao Yi back to Mount Mao—nothing will go wrong. Take care.” With that, he too went inside.

Chen San looked at Yang Chengzi in dismay, and Yang Chengzi returned the look with equal resentment. The two of them were tied together, inseparable.

When Chang Yu learned they were to leave, she insisted on coming along.

Originally, Yang Chengzi had planned to take the opportunity to have his master send Chang Yu back to her father, Master Chang. Fate would decide what became of them. Whatever decisions the elders made, he would obey. But Chang Yu refused to return, and the True Man of Taiyuan couldn’t very well force her.

For two days, she wept and pleaded, refusing to leave. In the end, she joined Yang Chengzi and Chen San on their journey.

A few days later, old Taixuan returned to his bamboo hut in the back hills, while the True Man of Taiyuan and the others went back to Mount Mao. The True Man had wanted old Taixuan to return with them, but he politely declined. Ever since learning that his master had sent him away years before to save his life, he felt too ashamed to return. Besides, he was used to a carefree life; returning to Mount Mao would only make him ill at ease.

Thus concluded the matters of Chen Family Town. The Chimei Wangliang was sealed; Monk Suichang had passed to secure the seal; and only a fraction of the townsfolk remained. As for Chen San’s parents, old Taixuan had meant to tell him, but after much thought decided the time was not yet right.

Now, Chen San and his two companions were truly setting off on a distant journey. Yang Chengzi was more frustrated than words could say—he’d come down the mountain for a bit of respite after nearly a year, only to find himself unable to return.

Where was Pu Xian Temple? It hardly mattered. With Chang Yu along, his chance of returning to Mount Mao grew slim—she stuck to him like syrup, and even if they did return, the master would surely consent to their marriage. At that point, his career as a Daoist priest would be over, and the mere thought of it gave Yang Chengzi a headache.

The three had planned to head south directly, but Chen San, realizing he knew not when he’d return, insisted on seeing Chen Xin first. He’d promised to marry her, and if he were gone a year or two without word, she might marry someone else by the time he returned.

Then Yang Chengzi would be married, while he would be left with nothing but a flower on his brow, no wife, and no matchmaker, fated to become a priest after all—a fate that left him lost for words.

Shaking his head all the way, he insisted on going to see Chen Xin. Yang Chengzi, unable to change his mind, reasoned that their journey would be long anyway—one or two days wouldn’t matter—and so they detoured.

To their surprise, Chen Xin burst into tears when she learned Chen San didn’t know when he’d return, so much so that he almost abandoned the idea of going to Pu Xian Temple. Even Mrs. Nian was at a loss. In the end, it was clever Chang Yu who came up with a solution: she suggested that Chen Xin, like herself, disguise herself as a man and join them.

Although Yang Chengzi objected strenuously, he was overruled—Chen Xin, ever since her father’s ordeal, had realized that Chen San was someone she could entrust her life to. Leaving Chen Family Town, she found herself thinking of him often.

Chen San had always been roguish and carefree, but had never done anything truly wrong. He’d lost his parents young, and it was remarkable enough that he hadn’t gone astray.

After the events in Laifeng, Chen Xin understood her feelings for him even more, so when Chang Yu suggested the plan, she wiped her tears and agreed.

Mrs. Nian, knowing Chang Yu was a girl, was greatly relieved. Chen San, though he should have been happy, felt uneasy—he didn’t want Chen Xin to endure the hardships and dangers of the journey.

Sensing his worry, Chen Xin hugged him tightly. “I’ll take care of myself. You can’t leave me behind. If you do, I’ll marry someone else tomorrow.”

With that, how could Chen San refuse her? Yang Chengzi, covering his face, was overcome with dread—another one to protect on this perilous journey. He looked at Chen San with deep reproach.

After bidding farewell to Mrs. Nian and the others, the four set off south in search of Pu Xian Temple.