Chapter 472: Why Have You Stolen My Bamboo Staff?

A ruined temple in a mountain village, a rainy summer night.

This region had been restless of late—an evil ghost was causing havoc, disturbing the mountain roads and bringing disaster to the Yangjiang River below.

The mountain roads were not too concerning; few people traveled at night, and those who did had been further deterred by the ghostly disturbances. At worst, some unsuspecting traveling merchants from out of town, delayed on the road or eager to reach the market ten li outside Yangdu City in one go, might fall victim when passing through. But even then, the ghost did not always succeed—it depended on luck.

The waterways, however, were another matter entirely.

Merchant ships often sailed at night.

And when it could not find victims on the mountain roads or the waterways, the ghost would pick a nearby village to haunt, peering through windows and stirring fear among the people.

It was said that skilled exorcists would always investigate a ghost’s background before attempting to deal with it. Even the original owner of the treasure in his hands—who was now in Yangdu City—had followed this practice. So, following their example, Huo Erniu had inquired about the ghost before setting out.

The nearby villagers all said that it was the first ghostly wail they heard at the foot of the mountain during this year's

jingzhe

.

It was as if the spring thunder had awakened it.

Yet for some reason, Heaven had not taken it away. It had escaped its fate and, after just a few days of lying low, had begun wreaking havoc.

This ghost was particularly vicious.

The local authorities, the wealthier village households at the mountain’s base, and even retired officials who had returned to their hometowns had all hired exorcists to deal with it. But none had succeeded. The most capable among them had barely managed to save themselves.

Huo Erniu had rarely encountered such a fierce ghost, and he couldn’t help but feel uneasy. But he had already eaten, already drunk, already accepted the flattery of others, and already boasted about his skills. Though he had yet to negotiate a price, there was no turning back now. He had no choice but to summon his courage and come.

And now, it was over.

That so-called terrifying ghost had indeed looked menacing. It had been bold too—not the least bit intimidated by his towering frame and strong qi and life force. Instead, it lunged at him. But a single strike from the bamboo staff, and it collapsed on the spot.

One blow—it was writhing in agony. Two blows—its soul scattered.

Just like every other demon and ghost he had encountered before. Huo Erniu was even tempted to give the staff a name—Two-Strikes.

Because so far, every single demon or ghost he had come across could endure only two strikes from this bamboo staff. Regardless of their strength, the first strike would always knock them down, but not kill them. The second strike would end them without fail.

Now, the ghost was dead, and the treasure was in his hands. Huo Erniu sat alone in the ruined temple, sheltering from the rain. By all logic, he should have felt even braver than before. But instead, his unease only deepened.

And it wasn’t because of the desolate temple or his solitude. Even in the past, when he had no such treasure to rely on, Huo Erniu had spent nights in wild mountains, graveyards, ruined temples, and haunted houses without blinking an eye.

No, what unsettled him now—was the very treasure he had stolen. The more powerful this bamboo staff proved to be, the more restless he became.

A bamboo staff was supposed to be just that—a simple walking stick.

But if a mere walking stick could be this formidable, then how powerful must its true owner be?

And now that he had stolen it—

How much longer could he possibly keep it?

Huo Erniu had been sleeping restlessly for several nights, dreaming of an immortal coming to reclaim the bamboo staff from him.

But even if he took the most optimistic view—assuming things played out just like in the stories, and the immortal never pursued him, and he got to keep the staff—could he really hold onto it for a lifetime?

The only reason he could exorcise ghosts and demons, the only reason he had gained some reputation in the nearby villages and counties over the past few days, was entirely because of this bamboo staff. But if the staff made him so powerful, wouldn’t it do the same for someone else? If people learned that his ghost-hunting abilities depended solely on this staff, wouldn’t someone else try to steal it from him?

At first, in the first two days, he hadn’t thought much about it. He had been too busy enjoying himself, basking in the freedom and excitement. But no matter how simple-minded a man was, eventually, worries would creep in.

“

Boom

...”

Thunder rumbled suddenly in the sky.

Huo Erniu flinched.

His first instinct was to turn and look outside, watching the lightning flash beyond the ruined temple. Then, just as instinctively, he glanced back at the broken deity statue behind him—half-expecting a Daoist to appear beside him at any moment.

Thankfully, no one was there. Huo Erniu realized he had become timid. And this timidity stemmed from guilt. From unease, from restless anxiety. From the fleeting, reckless greed that had taken root in his heart.

And so, even though he wielded a divine weapon, even though he had slain many demons and ghosts in succession and had earned the reverence of the villagers, his fear had not diminished. Instead, it had only grown stronger.

“I've gotten rid of so many demons and spirits these past few days—I’ve done good for the people, haven’t I?”

Huo Erniu could only grip the bamboo staff tighter, muttering to himself, trying to find comfort in his own words.

“I’ve made a name for myself. Even if I were to die tomorrow, it wouldn’t be a loss.”

Finally, as if convincing himself, he felt a bit more at ease.

“

Boom

!”

Another clap of thunder.

Outside, the rain poured harder, and every flash of lightning illuminated the sky, revealing the dense curtain of raindrops. In the midst of the storm, the ruined temple seemed on the verge of collapse.

Not long ago, the air had been filled with the warmth of spring. In fact, because of the stormy weather over the past couple of days, it had even cooled down slightly. But Huo Erniu knew—once this heavy rain passed, and the skies cleared for a few days, summer would arrive.

“

Boom

!”

“

Crash

...”

A sudden, deafening thunderclap exploded as if it had struck directly above the temple, followed by the sharp, splintering sounds of something collapsing—perhaps the mountain slopes, crumbling under the relentless downpour.

Startled, Huo Erniu sprang to his feet, using the bamboo staff to support himself. He hurried to peer through the temple’s broken walls, hoping to see what was happening outside. He feared that the mountain might truly be giving way, that a mudslide could be barreling toward him. His bamboo staff was excellent for exorcising spirits, but it was of no use against nature’s fury—if the temple was buried, he would be buried with it.

But then—something strange happened.

The moment he used the bamboo staff to stand, its tip touched the ground while the other end pointed skyward. But when he tried to lift it again, he found that he couldn’t.

It was as if the staff had taken root in the earth.

“Hmm?”

Huo Erniu tightened his grip and pulled with all his strength.

The bamboo staff stood firmly in place, completely immovable.

“

Boom

!”

Another thunderclap shook the sky, momentarily illuminating the ruined temple and the worn deity statue within.

Huo Erniu panicked.

Not only could he no longer lift the bamboo staff, but it stood upright on the ground, perfectly straight—just like it had taken root.

“This...?”

Just as fear crept into his heart, another bolt of lightning flashed outside the temple, casting a brilliant glow over the scene. The bamboo staff before him shone like jade, the broken temple remained in disrepair, and beyond it, the mountain forest stretched endlessly, with the Yangjiang River flowing through it.

But after a moment of waiting, he realized—there was no accompanying thunder.

Not only was there no thunder, but the sounds of wind, rain, and even the distant echoes of landslides and breaking trees had faded away without him noticing. Suddenly, the temple was wrapped in utter silence.

Yet, it was not absolute silence.

There was a soft, crackling sound—

It was the sound of firewood burning.

At the same time, as if it had ignited without any warning, a firelight flickered to life within the temple.

This fire was strange—no one knew when it had started burning. Before noticing it, there was no sense of its presence at all; the temple still felt shrouded in darkness. But the moment awareness of it set in, it became startlingly clear that the entire temple had already been filled with its glow.

Bathed in the fire’s light, everything felt warm and comforting—

As if, without even realizing it, the place had completely changed.

And yet, the temple was still the same temple.

The broken deity statue remained in its place, his own dust-covered robe still wrapped around him. In the corners, spiders spun their webs tirelessly, oblivious to how many storms they would endure before their work was undone.

“...”

Huo Erniu’s eyes widened as he slowly turned around.

Behind him, a fire blazed from neatly stacked wood, the logs occasionally popping as they burned.

A young Daoist sat cross-legged beside the fire, gazing at him with a calm, indifferent expression.

Huo Erniu tightened his grip on the bamboo staff.

If this was a demon, then his only means of survival was this staff.

If it wasn’t a demon, then...

Most likely...

The Daoist raised a hand and made a slight gesture.

“

Whoosh

!”

The bamboo staff shuddered violently, jolting free from Huo Erniu’s grasp.

In an instant, it flew straight into the Daoist’s hand.

“...”

Huo Erniu stood frozen.

He had already guessed who this man was—after all, he had imagined this very scenario countless times over the past few days. But now that he was actually facing him, he didn’t know what to do.

The surroundings were silent, except for the crackling of the firewood.

The Daoist finally spoke, his voice calm yet carrying undeniable weight.

“Why have you stolen my bamboo staff?”

“...”

Huo Erniu remained dazed, staring blankly at him.

Since he had long anticipated that this immortal would come for the staff—and possibly even punish him—he had, of course, thought about how he would respond.

He had considered dropping to his knees with a loud thud, begging for forgiveness. He had considered telling the truth and accepting whatever punishment the immortal saw fit.

He had also thought about mustering up his courage and explaining that the outskirts of the city were in turmoil, that he hadn’t used the staff for any wrongdoing—only to exorcise demons and spirits—and that surely, for this reason, the immortal wouldn’t make things difficult for him.

But now, faced with the real person, he found himself utterly speechless, rooted to the spot.

“Heh.” The Daoist chuckled softly, shaking his head. He held the bamboo staff in his hands, running his fingers along its surface as if reacquainting himself with it. Then he asked again,

“How many demons and spirits have you exorcized with it?”

“Six—seven, including today.”

This question, at least, was easy to answer. He hadn’t forgotten.

“Each time I exorcized a demon, I treated myself to a drink,” he added. “I remember clearly. There aren't many left in the area now.”

“You’re quite capable.”

Song You couldn’t help but smile. This was more demons than he himself had taken care of within the city. At this rate, he and Lady Calico would have to be constantly on the move to keep up.

“You obtained a treasure—why didn’t you use it for anything else?”

“W-What else would I use it for?”

“You never even considered it? Or do you think it can only be used to fight demons and ghosts? But even if that were the case, you could have sold it to a wealthy family—it would have been enough money to last you a lifetime.”

“N-no, I never...”

Song You looked up and met his gaze.

His words were vague, but his expression betrayed his true thoughts.

“You’re quite skilled at exorcising demons.”

“It’s... it’s all because of your treasure. Those demons and ghosts aren’t afraid of me at all. They rush at me, and I just hit them twice—and that’s it.”

“You’re also quite brave.”

“...”

“You still haven’t told me—why did you steal my bamboo staff?”

“I... I...” Huo Erniu stammered. “I once heard a story in a teahouse—about a man named Mister Duan from Yangdu. He was famous for exorcising demons and spirits, but in truth, he was just a wandering charlatan.

“One day, while he was walking along the road, he happened to see an immortal resting in the shade. While the immortal was napping, he stole his treasured sword. And from then on, he became truly powerful—able to slay demons and exorcise spirits with ease.”

Huo Erniu swallowed before continuing, “That immortal was called Treasured Sword Immortal Luo.”

“And then what happened?” Song You looked at him with amusement.

“Then... then that was it. I never heard of Immortal Luo finding him...”

“So you were imitating the man from the story.”

“I... I was foolish...”

“That story is most likely false. I've never heard of any 'Immortal Luo.'“

Song You shook his head with a smile, his gaze steady as he fixed it on Huo Erniu.

“But what you did—that was real.”

“I was drunk that day...”

Huo Erniu honestly could no longer tell whether this moment was real or a dream. He had never seen Song You’s face before. In the past few nights, every time he dreamed of a Daoist coming to reclaim the staff, the face had been different. Perhaps this was just another version of the same dream.

But there was no point in figuring out whether it was real or not. Right or wrong, he had stolen something that wasn’t his. Even in a dream, he ought to admit his fault and beg for forgiveness.

Lowering his head, he dared not meet Song You’s gaze.