Chapter 383: Clash of Great Demons, Arrival of the Daoist

Today, a gentle breeze swept across the river—nothing but the breeze.

After some time, a small boat appeared around a bend in the river, drifting effortlessly downstream.

The boat barely needed to be rowed. It moved along on its own, and the boatman, at ease, occasionally broke into song. His voice echoed between the mountains on either side of the river, filling the serene scene with a sense of peace.

“Ah...”

Halfway through his song, the boatman suddenly groaned in pain.

The damp air over the river had aggravated his chronic illness. Years of working the water had left him with rheumatism, and the sharp pain in his old legs came and went without warning, always capable of ruining his mood.

But suddenly, the sound of hooves echoed from the riverbank.

Faintly, the hooves were accompanied by the roars of a tiger and the howls of wolves.

“...”

The boatman’s groaning stopped immediately.

Though the mountains flanking the Yin River were many, the forests weren’t dense. Normally, one would hear nothing more than the calls of various birds. Even wolf howls were rare, let alone this deafening roar that reverberated through the woods. The boatman didn’t recognize the sounds, but an inexplicable sense of fear gripped him, as though they came from some monstrous spirit of the mountains.

Standing on his small boat in the middle of the river, he didn’t panic but instinctively craned his neck, raising his head to peer toward the source of the sound.

On the path along the river, through the straight cedar forest, a figure on horseback seemed to be galloping wildly. The figure wove through the dense trees, repeatedly obscured and then revealed again, moving so fast that only a blurry shadow could be seen.

In addition, there appeared to be several shorter shadows following, though their exact nature was unclear.

Finally, the rider emerged at the ferry crossing.

The boatman rubbed his eyes and leaned forward to get a clearer look.

It was a jujube-red horse, carrying a Daoist priest on its back. His flowing robes and hair, still billowing from the ride, had just settled. Wasn’t this the same immortal-like figure he had encountered previously?

The boatman froze for a moment before seeing the priest ride the horse down the steps of the ferry landing, seemingly preparing to step into the river. Remembering the roars and howls he had heard earlier, the boatman didn’t stop to think and shouted loudly, “Sir, are you in need of a ferry?”

The jujube-red horse immediately halted.

The Daoist priest turned his head to look at him.

The boatman quickly rowed the boat over.

The priest remained seated on the horse, calm and silent, his eyes flickering with thought. After a moment of contemplation, he did not refuse.

Soon after, both the Daoist and the horse boarded the boat.

The calico cat leaped gracefully onto the boat from a distance.

Only the swallow continued to fly above, circling in the air.

The boatman, flustered, pushed the boat off the shore as if he feared some terrifying demon lurking on the bank. Only after they had reached the middle of the river did he let out a sigh of relief. Stretching his neck to glance back at the forest on the bank, he noticed something strange—the faint, low shadows he had glimpsed earlier had all vanished.

There were no signs of any demons or monsters at the ferry or along the riverbank watching them.

At that moment, the Daoist’s calm voice came from the side, “Since I’ve run into you, boatman, I’d like to request a ride back to the Zi Commandery ferry crossing. I will, of course, pay the fare.”

“Of course!”

“And please row a little faster.”

“Do you have urgent business, sir?” The boatman glanced at the shore again before turning back to the Daoist. Narrowing his eyes with a smile, he said, “Good thing, after parting with you that day, I’ve been wandering this river regularly, hoping I might ferry you again and soak up some immortal’s aura. I never thought it’d actually happen.”

“Your thoughtfulness is appreciated.”

“Otherwise, I’m afraid you would’ve waited quite a while for a boat to come by,” the boatman said, rowing with all his might as he spoke.

“Your kindness is noted. I left in such haste this time that my belongings are still halfway along the route. If we meet again, I’ll be sure to invite you for a drink,” Song You said. “However, this still isn’t fast enough.”

“This is already downstream, sir. It can’t go any faster. If it could, I’d do it, but there’s nothing more I can do. You’ll have to be patient.”

“It needs to be faster.”

The Daoist’s voice was low as his gaze dropped.

The boatman was about to reply, but then he realized that the master’s words didn’t seem to be directed at him. He opened his mouth to ask a question but held back.

Suddenly, the boat surged forward.

It felt as if something in the water had shoved the boat from below or a powerful wave had struck from behind. The force threw the boatman backward, causing him to nearly lose his balance.

When he came to his senses, the boat was slicing through the water at incredible speed, riding over the waves as if propelled by an unseen force.

Never in his life had this boat moved so fast.

“Ah...”

The boatman, being older and well-versed in many strange tales, managed to keep himself from being too startled but couldn’t help exclaiming, “You truly have divine abilities.”

However, the Daoist merely kept his gaze fixed downward, even tapping the deck with his bamboo staff as if urging the boat onward. “It must go faster still.”

Incredibly, the small boat accelerated once more.

“Whoa!” the boatman exclaimed, unable to hold back his astonishment.

By now, the mountains, rivers, and trees on either side were rushing past in a blur. The wind howling against his face felt like it was tearing at his skin. The boat seemed to rise slightly, and the boatman couldn’t help but wonder if it was even touching the water anymore. It no longer felt like it was sailing—it was more like it was flying just above the surface.

Even the swallow flying alongside the boat in the sky had to flap its wings frantically to keep up.

In what felt like no time at all, they reached Zi Commandery.

“Thank you, sir.”

Song You pulled out a handful of coins and handed them to the boatman before stepping ashore without hesitation.

The jujube-red horse followed him immediately. The calico cat leaped gracefully onto the bank as well.

The boatman held the coins in his hand, still staring blankly at the Daoist. “Sir, are you truly not an immortal?”

“I’m not,” Song You replied.

He mounted his horse again but paused, turning back to the boatman. “The river’s damp air is heavy and cold. After this trip, I suggest you head ashore and rest at home for a few days. If the river remains calm during that time, you can resume your ferrying without delay. But if there are any signs of unrest—storms or strange disturbances—please wait until the waters have fully settled before venturing out again.”

“May I ask if this is because of—”

Before the boatman could finish his question, the jujube-red horse beneath Song You suddenly surged forward.

The ferry landing was connected to the river by over a dozen stone steps, each one hewn from green slate, forming a significant incline. The lowest step sat just above the waterline, but with a single leap, the horse bounded effortlessly to the top. Without hesitation, it raced off, leaving no time for further conversation.

The boatman stood there, utterly dumbfounded.

The calico cat, still astride the tiger, followed close behind Song You, weaving through the mountain forest in tandem with the wind.

Above them, the swallow darted through the clouds, soaring high and low.

This journey would span several hundred li.

Along the way, countless minor demons and hidden sentries met their end.

By afternoon, the Daoist had reached Mount Ye.

The Longwei Army still held their position around the mountain’s perimeter.

The jujube-red horse paused on a mountaintop. The Daoist gazed calmly at the barren peaks in the distance. The calico cat stopped beside him, while the swallow descended to join them.

“I must ask you both for one more favor,” Song You said, lowering his gaze to the cat.

“What is it?”

“Please, sir, go on.”

“If there’s a battle over there, it’s bound to be dangerous. Even though the Longwei Army is stationed on the outskirts, they could still be caught up in the chaos.” Song You turned to the swallow.

He added, “So I’d like to ask the two of you to remain outside. If there’s no commotion, simply wait here for me. Stay cautious, watch each other’s backs, and prioritize your safety. But if something happens, the Longwei Army stationed around Mount Ye might not know to retreat in the confusion. Please head to the major lookout and signal towers to warn them to withdraw immediately.”

He then turned back to Lady Calico and added, “This is very important.”

“I understand!” Yan An said.

“And what about you, Daoist priest?”

“The horse will take me where I need to go.”

“Understood!”

“Make sure you protect yourselves,” Song You reminded them with a gentle smile. Without needing any commands, the horse began galloping forward on its own.

A lone jujube-red horse, carrying a Daoist priest, headed toward the mountain.

The dense mountains loomed, shrouded in thick miasma.

Signal towers formed a ring around the perimeter.

***

At this moment, atop Mount Ye—

A woman with an elegant figure and stunning beauty stood in the midst of the chaos. Her white robe, accented with touches of red, exuded both sophistication and an air of antiquity, reminiscent of fashions from centuries ago. Behind her, eight fox tails spread like an enormous fan, their fur swaying gently in the wind.

With graceful steps, the woman ascended toward the mountain’s peak.

Ahead of her stood a Daoist priest in a worn robe.

Surrounding them were several figures at varying distances, all focused on the State Preceptor while keeping watch on the woman. Their expressions ranged from fierce hostility to wary greed, while some bore an impassive demeanor.

“I hear that the State Preceptor has already completed one batch of the Yin-Yang Longevity Pills,” the woman said softly, a slight smile on her lips. Her voice was gentle and melodic. “That batch must be potent, but with the body of a mere mortal, you couldn’t have consumed it yet. It should still be here, no?”

As she spoke, she flicked her wrist, producing a folding fan from somewhere unknown. She waved it lightly in front of her, and her smile became even brighter.

“Where might it be?”

“You’ve hidden in Changjing for so many years, all for this day?” the State Preceptor asked coldly.

“What other choice did I have?” the woman replied with a sigh, her tone tinged with helplessness. “These days, any action we demons take invites either divine retribution or mortal persecution. How could we possibly have your courage, State Preceptor?”

She continued, her expression sincere and disarming. “But rest assured, we only want this one batch out of the ten. Once we get it, we’ll leave immediately.”

Her words, especially the latter half, carried a tone of honesty and reasonableness.

“You wish!” the State Preceptor replied sharply.

The State Preceptor knew full well that the woman possessed the ability to kill him with a mere gesture, yet his expression betrayed not a shred of fear.

“If you’re willing to give this to me, I would be most grateful. It would make all these years of accompanying you in the shadows worthwhile,” the woman said, her tone deceptively light.

“‘Accompanying me,’ indeed.”

“It wasn’t just accompanying,” she continued with a faint smile. “We’ve always admired the Hidden Dragon Temple’s Daoist, Mr. Song. He began suspecting you quite early on, you know. We even considered telling him a few times. But despite that, we’ve kept your secrets safe in the shadows. Surely, you know how deeply fox demons can love. It hasn’t been easy for us.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Why be so stubborn, State Preceptor?” The woman’s movements paused, and her eyes narrowed slightly. “You’ve safeguarded the nation and its people, gone to great lengths to build the Ghost City and prepare the underworld. Your contributions are vast and enduring; your legacy should span the ages.

“For someone like you, seeking longevity is only natural. If you could maintain your reputation in the eyes of the world, you would be remembered as a virtuous minister for eternity. Why take this path and risk disgrace?”

“So, you plan to take it by force.”

“We’ve lived cautiously our whole lives, never daring to harm humanity. But this is an illicit creation to begin with—taking it would hardly weigh on our conscience,” the woman replied, waving her folding fan with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“

Whoosh

!”

Suddenly, a fierce wind howled, followed by an ominous shadow that blotted out the light overhead.

The darkness descended faster than the wind itself.

It was a colossal claw!

The claw was covered in thick, wrinkled, armor-like skin, and just one of its digits was as large as a small house. Rising swiftly from the mountainside behind the woman, it came crashing down in the blink of an eye.

“

Boom

!”

The mountain peak trembled violently as the claw struck the ground.

A deafening roar echoed as rocks exploded outward, leaving behind a massive imprint where the claw had landed. The ground cracked, fissures spreading like veins through the earth.

From the mountain’s shadow, an enormous head began to emerge, swaying as it rose higher and higher into the air.

A massive marsh dragon began climbing up from the base of the mountain.

“An old acquaintance, I see...”

The woman, now standing on the opposite side, appeared calm and composed, smiling faintly as she looked at the enormous creature.

The marsh dragon slowly ascended to the mountain’s peak.

This marsh dragon was even larger than the one Song You had encountered in the Yin River. Its body was covered in scars, and one of its eyes was blind, claw marks cutting across it. Yet, instead of evoking pity, its savage features radiated ferocity, as if it were a beast born of ancient divine battlefields, having fought and slaughtered for millennia.

At the same time, tremors rippled through distant mountains.

From several peaks surrounding Mount Ye, more colossal marsh dragons began to climb into view, their cold gazes fixed on this location from afar.

“So many of them,” the woman remarked, still unperturbed. “It seems your entire clan has thrown its lot in with the State Preceptor, hoping to settle down in the underworld.”

The State Preceptor’s expression remained composed as he replied, “Do you think you can single-handedly contend with several great marsh dragons?”

“Of course not,” the woman admitted frankly. Both the marsh dragon and fox clans hailed from ancient times, their great demons possessing considerable cultivation. Furthermore, marsh dragons were inherently more ferocious and powerful than foxes. While she wouldn’t fear facing one alone, dealing with several at once was beyond her ability.

“Good thing we came prepared.”

Without haste, she extended her hand, palm up.

A wooden box appeared in her hand.

When she opened it, the box revealed a severed fox tail.

The severed tail was still fresh, with traces of blood at the base, as if it had just been torn from a fox.

“My ancestor’s severed tail can temporarily elevate us to the Nine-Tail Realm,” the woman said, her gaze shifting between the State Preceptor and the enormous marsh dragons perched on the surrounding peaks.

Her smile was sincere, almost earnest. “The Fox Ancestor’s tail is precious, but using it will cost us a century of our lifespan. If you truly force us to use it today, then the grudge between our two clans will be settled—completely.”

The marsh dragons remained silent, but their aura was charged with battle intent.

At the same time, two more figures appeared in the distance.

They didn’t reveal their true forms but stood as men, gazing intently in this direction. Yet, the woman could still sense the familiarity of their presence.

“So, the white rhinoceroses are here too...”

“You should leave now,” came a voice from afar, its tone calm and persuasive. “Even an ancient being of great power would likely meet their end here today.”

“Hehe!” The woman raised her fan to cover her mouth, avoiding a direct answer. Instead, she chuckled softly. “So many seniors are here, yet even with their cultivation and strength, they can’t beat me and must resort to surrounding me. How embarrassing...”

“Do you insist on fighting? Is it worth it?”

Before the woman could reply, a thunderous noise broke the tension.

“

Boom

!”

The largest marsh dragon lunged at the woman, its sheer size creating a sense of the mountain collapsing as it moved. The ground trembled violently beneath it.

Almost simultaneously, the other marsh dragons from the surrounding mountains began scrambling madly in her direction.

“

Bang

!”

A faint explosion sound followed.

The mountain suddenly erupted in a vast plume of mist. Within it, the woman had disappeared, leaving behind only a colossal, elegant fox standing on the ground. Eight magnificent tails swayed gracefully in the wind behind her, and she held the severed tail in her mouth. Her body, eyes, and even her mouth glowed with a dazzling array of five-colored divine light as she stared coldly ahead.

But just then, the fox’s movements abruptly paused. She turned her head suddenly, looking toward the base of the mountain.

The marsh dragons seemed to sense it too and stopped in their tracks.

The great white rhinoceroses, who had yet to reveal their true forms, also froze.

All turned their gaze toward the same direction—

Halfway up the mountain, a Daoist was ascending. His robe, faded from countless washes, looked almost white. He leaned on a green jade bamboo staff, walking steadily toward the peak.

Compared to the towering marsh dragons, his figure appeared insignificant. Yet his steps were slow and unwavering, each one echoing with resolve.