Chapter 18: Revenge, Moon Worship Technique

"I..."

At this moment, Young Lord Hutu was at a complete loss for words.

A trace of inexpressible shame and anger flickered in his eyes; he truly hadn’t expected Usongzi to lay such things bare so openly.

How dare he!

Was he not afraid that, in a fit of humiliation and rage, I might quietly kill him out here in the wilds? Did he truly believe I wouldn’t dare?

Yes, he must be convinced that I fear the Elder’s clan rules and household law too much to lay a secret hand on a man so esteemed and specially invited.

Young Lord Hu’s face alternated between pallor and flush, and Ji Ming immediately sensed trouble. So he eased his tone, striving for gentleness.

“Young Lord Hu, this matter—on any spirit creature’s body—is like a thorn. I can bear it and not mention it before the Elder, so as not to tarnish your reputation of former days, but I cannot easily forget. I imagine…you would not believe I could put aside such unhappiness.”

Hutu’s expression eased a little. After a pause, he tentatively ventured, “I suppose…I may be able to make it up to you!”

“Is this something that can be made up for?” Ji Ming cried sternly, but recalling the disparity in their strengths, he quickly reined in his emotions. “Of course it can be made up for. How does the Young Lord intend to do so?”

“I see your spiritual energy seems rather thin. I imagine you don’t yet have a true transformation method. As it happens, I possess a ‘Moon Worship Technique.’”

With that, Hutu drew a silver tablet from his belt pouch.

“Could it be the Heavenly Fox’s Moon Worship Technique from the Fox Court’s Heavenly Tome?” Ji Ming could not help but show his excitement as he hurriedly accepted the silver tablet.

“How could it possibly be such a supreme method!” Hutu was taken aback by Ji Ming’s leap of thought; he was unlike any spirit creature he’d ever seen.

“This Moon Worship Technique was divined by a fox-blooded ancestor for the ‘Illusion-Form’ stage—a demon method, not an orthodox transformation technique, but rare and valuable among the mountain spirits and ghosts.”

“Excellent! Splendid!”

Ji Ming cherished the silver tablet, delighted. He dared not hope for a supreme method; had it truly been one from the Fox Court’s celestial tome, he would have suspected Hutu’s true motives. Now, having received the tablet, he found the young lord much more agreeable to the eye.

In the world of magic, all is rooted in method. Though he had resolved to cultivate as a human, to gain a transformation technique was a great accumulation of fortune. He could hardly guarantee that in his next life, or even the one after, the treasured eye would again reveal the character for ‘Embryo.’

Seeing Ji Ming’s attitude at last soften, Hutu produced a rubbing of avian battle talons, which he had obtained from Mouse Four.

“As you said, this is a technique that can traverse a thousand miles and cross great rivers—an art of imitating things. Please, let me see more of your work.”

“Why?” Ji Ming asked.

He did not believe this young lord was truly interested in such arts, nor did he think someone of his standing needed to curry favor with the Elder by playing at such things.

Then what was his purpose? He was deeply curious.

“In the myriad arts of cultivation, there is a rather arcane craft called ‘Puppet Show.’ If I can devise something novel in this field, I can rely on this expertise to pass the Fox Court’s examination by exception. Your battle talon’s shrimp-shell structure and the…nail connecting the two pieces—these gave me great inspiration.”

“That’s called a rivet,” Ji Ming replied, inwardly amused. “So this is the demon version of a specialty student!”

When it came to mechanical devices, his mind first conjured the repeating crossbow. But he only remembered its general form—some sort of arrow box mounted on the bow, and by pushing and pulling a lever, one could reload and fire arrows. It was much more complex than the battle talons, and the details eluded him.

So Ji Ming adopted a master’s reserved demeanor, verbally outlining the rough construction of the repeating crossbow, leaving the rest for the young lord to figure out on his own.

Hutu had some objections, but for now, he could only follow Usongzi’s directions and attempt a practical experiment. After all, Usongzi couldn’t run far; if questions arose, he could always return to press him for answers—surely the other would not dare refuse.

Having dealt with this young lord, Ji Ming knew he must hasten to make his cherished eye reveal a new character, else his store of knowledge would soon be exhausted.

“Mouse Four!”

The familiar clan mouse was summoned once more. Terrified of Ji Ming, Mouse Four usually avoided him, never daring to mention the promise made that day.

“When will there next be a gambling game at the old temple?” Ji Ming asked.

The question startled Mouse Four, who assumed Ji Ming was about to fulfill his promise and was deeply moved, feeling ashamed for having hidden from him these past days.

“The old temple’s games are always by invitation from regulars. We could ask Lady Whitebone to act as intermediary. Last time, Mouse Three and I…”

He trailed off mid-sentence. Last time, playing at the temple with Mouse Three, he’d lost a piece of tear-stained jade bamboo and gotten Mouse Three killed—he could hardly mention it now.

“Where is she?”

“On the riverbank, among the wild shoals.”

With Mouse Four on his back, Ji Ming set out at once. In a short while, they arrived at the great river north of Hengshan.

“On those wild shoals, abandoned infants from the thirteen major stockades often drift ashore and are collected by Lady Whitebone for her ritual forging, hoping to create a magical instrument. If you see a spot along the riverbank shrouded in foul corpse vapor and hear the cacophony of infant cries, that is where she forges her corpse dolls.”

A chill ran through Ji Ming’s heart. Ritual instruments were not common objects, nor something any ordinary spirit creature could possess. This Lady Whitebone truly had some power.

He quickly identified a likely spot, but as he prepared to descend, a peal of thunder echoed—not from the sky, but from the ground, right where the wild shoals lay.

“A Daoist is here to subdue demons—the lady is in danger! Let’s…get out of here!” Mouse Four called from his back.

Ji Ming took the advice and changed course instantly, flying away without so much as a backward glance.

“Is there any other spirit creature you could introduce us to?”

“There is a tiger spirit,” Mouse Four recalled, thinking of a striped tiger, not advanced in cultivation nor yet able to assume human form, but seemingly trusted by Lord Bonie.

“Very well, let’s seek him out.”

Ji Ming immediately set off in the right direction. Mouse Four was puzzled—he hadn’t pointed the way, so how did Usongzi know the location of the tiger’s lair? Could it be he was familiar with the tiger spirit?

Landing before the familiar den, Ji Ming was overcome by a touch of emotion. Here, with Ma Ning the ghost, he had once sheltered from the rain beside a sleeping tiger, discussing the secret ways of cultivation and occasionally confiding in one another about the sorrows of life.

It was at that time, deep within, that a seed for the Dao was first planted within his soul.

“There’s a stench!” Mouse Four warned.

Ji Ming cautiously entered the den. The heap of flesh and bones had been violently scattered, strewn everywhere, and flies buzzed madly through the lair.

“The tiger’s power is gone,” Ji Ming thought to himself.

Once, there were few flies in the heap, deterred by the tiger’s presence. Now, the scene suggested the tiger spirit had long since met with disaster.

Venturing deeper, he found the tiger cubs gone, blood spattered over the earthen walls, bits of flesh clinging to the ground.

Ji Ming recognized the marks of blades and axes—these were the traces of dissection.

“He is dead,” Ji Ming said.

“Revenge!” Mouse Four, as though knowing something, cried out in terror, “This must be the retaliation of the Immortal Masters of Taiping Mountain!”

“For the secret technique?”

“Yes! The tiger spirit killed a Daoist and stole the ‘Crane Control Technique.’ Word must have gotten out,” Mouse Four stammered, shaking all over.

“How do you know about the secret technique? Never mind, that doesn’t matter.”

Mouse Four reasoned that since Usongzi already knew about the jade bamboo, it wasn’t surprising he knew of the secret technique as well.

“This is not so simple,” Ji Ming mused, drawing connections.

Since a Daoist had been killed by the tiger spirit, retaliation from the immortals was only to be expected. Yet just now, Lady Whitebone had also come under attack by a Daoist at the wild shoals.

He did not believe these were two unrelated events. Perhaps the immortals had learned from the tiger spirit about the temple’s gambling games, and that secret techniques were wagered there.

“Come, quickly—to the old temple.”