Chapter 65: Feigning Divinity, Stealing Offerings

"It's rat fur!"

Constable Liu walked over, picked up a tuft of ashen-black fur left behind by the fiend, rolled it between his fingers, and delivered his judgment.

The series of events had unfolded too swiftly for him to intervene, leaving him somewhat embarrassed and eager to find something to do.

"Rats are not only cunning but also exceedingly vengeful. Now that Head Constable Shang, you've wounded it, I fear this matter will not end easily."

"Find it, kill it, and then it will end," Shang Lu replied.

The fiend, suspected to be a rat demon, had escaped by burrowing underground, but Shang Lu had managed to wound it, and its flight had left a trail of blood.

Within those bloodstains lingered traces of its demonic aura.

Others might not see it, but with the blessing of the Liver Spirit, Shang Lu could perceive the demonic essence within the blood.

All he needed was to follow the trail of blood and demonic aura, and the fiend’s lair would be revealed.

"Constable Liu, assign two men to escort Du Feng to a physician—be sure to save his hand! The rest of you, follow me in pursuit of the fiend!"

With swift efficiency, Shang Lu issued his orders, his feet never pausing as he pursued the trace of blood and demonic aura.

As soon as the fiend left Du Feng’s body, he returned to his senses, clutching his gnawed hand and crying in pain.

Constable Liu strode over, uncorked the wine gourd at his waist, and poured liquor onto Du Feng’s wound, eliciting an even more piteous wail.

"Stop howling. You should count yourself lucky I’m fond of drink—else, on this night of Head Constable Shang’s promotion banquet, I wouldn’t have brought a gourd along, and your hand would have been lost to poison!"

After admonishing Du Feng, Constable Liu barked at two patrolmen, "You two, take Du Feng to a physician—hurry!"

He then retied the wine gourd to his belt and, with the remaining officers, hurried after Shang Lu.

Sweating profusely from pain, Du Feng shouted after Shang Lu’s receding figure, "Boss Lu, be sure to slay that fiend—avenge me!"

Shang Lu didn’t answer, but merely raised a hand in acknowledgment.

Du Feng called no further, for he knew Shang Lu had already promised him.

"Damn it, a filthy rat dares possess me? Just wait, Boss Lu will hunt you down and end you!"

Du Feng’s mouth split in a grin, and he laughed heartily.

His faith in Shang Lu was greater than Shang Lu’s own.

Yet after a few laughs, he clutched his mangled hand, bone visible through the torn flesh, and cried out in pain again.

Inwardly, he resolved that if his hand healed, he would devote himself to diligent practice, lest he fall prey to evil again, unaware and defenseless...

Shang Lu, trailed by Constable Liu and his men, sped along, following the trail of blood and demonic aura.

Lacking the blessing of the Liver Spirit, the others could not see the demonic traces, and only occasionally did the lantern light reveal a few drops of blood on the ground.

They marveled—Head Constable Shang’s eyesight was astonishing, to be able to follow bloodstains so precisely on such a dark night.

Soon, Shang Lu led them to the great opera stage on the western edge of the city.

During festivals, this stage would be bustling, with troupes performing and crowds of townsfolk gathering to watch, while peddlers wandered among them calling their wares.

Upon reaching this place, Shang Lu found the bloodstains laced with demonic aura ended abruptly in the open square before the stage, leaving no further trace.

Either the rat demon had hidden nearby, or, upon sensing pursuit, had changed its course.

Without hesitation, Shang Lu began to search the vicinity.

Seeing this, Constable Liu and the others joined in the search without waiting for orders.

At the lower left of the opera stage stood a small shrine of blue brick, dedicated to the local earth god.

It was modest, even smaller than the old temple at Shuanggui village’s entrance.

Yet incense burned thickly there, and the censer overflowed with spent sticks and candles.

As they searched, the kindly-faced clay statue of the earth god within the shrine slowly turned its eyes toward Shang Lu.

Deep resentment flickered in its earthen gaze.

It had not expected that this single glance would draw Shang Lu’s suspicion.

Suddenly, Shang Lu whirled and fixed his gaze upon the shrine.

Instantly, the statue’s eyes dulled and resumed their lifeless clay aspect.

Shang Lu scrutinized the statue from afar.

"Head Constable Shang, have you found something?" Constable Liu and the others hurried over, concerned.

Raising his hand abruptly, Shang Lu pointed to the shrine and commanded, "Smash it!"

"Smash it?" Constable Liu hesitated.

"This shrine is well-tended—if we destroy it, even if the earth god doesn’t blame us, the townsfolk will surely curse us behind our backs..."

"When I say smash it, you smash it. If there are consequences, I will bear them."

Shang Lu thought to himself, Are you still afraid of being cursed by the townsfolk? I thought you’d long grown used to it.

Seeing Shang Lu’s resolve, Constable Liu dared not argue. He answered, "Yes, sir," and prepared to do it himself.

But just then, a strange, wavering singing rose from the opera stage above.

All turned their heads, looking up reflexively—even Shang Lu.

Yet he kept the shrine in the corner of his eye.

Where moments ago the stage stood empty, now a troupe had appeared as if from nowhere.

There were actors singing, and musicians playing their instruments.

"Are they people or ghosts?" one officer asked, his voice trembling.

The sudden, uncanny appearance of the troupe sent chills down many spines, more unsettling than witnessing Du Feng’s possession.

"Trickery!" Shang Lu grunted, hefting his ox-tail saber and striding towards the stage.

Inside the shrine, the clay earth god’s eyes glinted with smugness and mockery at the sight.

But in the next instant, its expression shifted to horror and disbelief.

For Shang Lu, halfway to the stage, suddenly changed course.

He did not head for the opera stage, but charged straight at the shrine.

His speed was astonishing.

In the blink of an eye, Shang Lu was before the shrine, executing the Tiger's Triple-Mountain Step from the Tiger-Step Technique.

His right foot struck like a hammer, crashing down on the earth god statue with a force of a thousand pounds.

Boom!

A flash of gray light burst from the statue, seeking to block his blow, but it was scattered instantly.

The light collapsed, and the statue was shattered to powder.

Six gray shadows burst from the ruins, shrieking as they fled in all directions.

The statue’s interior had been hollowed out; a nest of rats had made their lair inside, usurping the shrine and feasting on the offerings.

Shang Lu, having flushed out the rat demons, showed no mercy—his blade slashed toward the nearest gray shadow.

A dull, meaty thud rang out as the ox-tail saber struck.

Blood sprayed, rat fur flew.

This gray shadow was clearly weaker than the fiend that had possessed Du Feng; with a single stroke, Shang Lu ended its life.

Thud.

Two objects hit the ground.

It was a fat gray rat, split in two by Shang Lu’s blade, its four legs still twitching on the ground.