Morning light pierced the thin mist, bathing the Small Courtyard in a layer of pale gold.
Chen An pushed open the wooden door of the stone house, only to find the straw mat completely empty. His heart tightened, and he hurried toward the courtyard gate—the bolt was intact, and the barrier continued to shimmer with silver light as usual.
As he turned, his gaze swept over the Vegetable Plot and suddenly stopped.
Little Black (Ji Meng) stood in the center of the garden.
It was no longer the wounded dog that had once curled up there. In the morning light, its body stood straight as a pine, its pitch-black fur flowing with a dark golden sheen. The hard scab on its neck had fallen away, revealing new skin patterned with healthy pale silver markings.
What shocked Chen An most was its gaze—the brown-black pupils were deep as ancient wells, reflecting the light of the sky and shadows of the clouds. Not a trace of confusion remained, only an abyss-like majesty. That gaze swept over the vegetable seedlings, the Clay Jar, and the stone house before finally settling on Chen An, carrying an indescribable solemnity.
"Little Black?" Chen An called tentatively.
Little Black did not come running with its tail wagging as it usually did. It slowly turned to face the main entrance of the stone house. Its forelegs bent slightly, its hind legs straightened, and its head lowered. It was, astonishingly, a perfect prostration!
The instant its forehead touched the ground, an invisible pressure spread outward like ripples!
In the previously tranquil courtyard, the vegetable seedlings suddenly swayed as if stirred by an invisible force, as though a gentle breeze had passed through. At the same time, the Clay Jar placed nearby began to emit a low hum, as if responding to some unknown change.
Even more astonishingly, the supposedly indestructible Safe Zone barrier now seemed to have suffered a tremendous impact. Violent silver patterns rippled across its surface, as if it might shatter at any moment.
The sudden change left Chen An utterly stunned. He involuntarily retreated half a step, a powerful sense of unease welling up in his heart. Yet when his gaze fell on the place where Little Black was prostrating itself, his shock reached its peak.
The earth beneath Little Black had actually caved in slightly, forming a clearly visible imprint of its forehead, as if an enormous force were surging up from underground. Little Black seemed to be bearing the pressure of that force, lying quietly on the ground without moving at all.
A deep, prolonged whine escaped its throat, like the first emergence of Dragon's Roar. The trembling final note shook the air, carving the words "gratitude" into the laws of Heaven and Earth.
Its head struck the ground again, this time with greater force!
A pale golden phantom rose around it—not the outline of a black dog, but the Demon God Dharma of a dragon-headed, human-bodied demon god clad in fearsome scales! The phantom flashed and vanished, yet it brought with it howling winds that sent Chen An's robes flying.
As the Dharma faded, a nearly devout understanding appeared in Little Black's eyes. It looked toward the mortar where Chen An pounded medicine, the kiln where he fired pottery, and the orderly Vegetable Plot. Everywhere its gaze fell, there were traces of Sage Preaching the Dao. This prostration honored the profound truth of body cultivation within the broadcast calisthenics, the great Dao maxim of "Cut Grass and Remove Roots" when weeding, and the Chaotic Vitality carried over in that bowl of meat soup!
The final prostration was silent and soundless.
Little Black's forepaws were tightly crossed, its chin pressed against the ground as if it had merged with the soil. Its body was taut, like a bowstring drawn to its limit, filled with strength and tension.
The courtyard suddenly fell silent. Even the wind seemed to freeze. Chen An felt a vast will surge into the heavens, piercing through the Safe Zone barrier and shooting straight into the highest reaches of the sky!
In the unseen realm, the Heavenly Dao Laws seemed to tremble faintly. Ji Meng swore by the true name of the Demon Commander: This courtyard's pure land was the Sage's dwelling. From the highest to the lowest ranks of the Demon Court, none would ever trespass upon it. Should anyone defy this vow, their soul and spirit would be annihilated!
After the three prostrations, Little Black rose. It gazed deeply at Chen An, its expression as complex as a churning sea of stars—gratitude, awe, and resolve all mingled within it. Then it turned and walked toward the courtyard gate.
Chen An stood rooted to the spot. He did not understand the celestial phenomena behind those three prostrations, nor did he know what the phantom of the Dharma represented.
All he saw was that the Black Dog he had raised for several days had suddenly become extraordinarily "well-mannered," looking exactly like a minister bidding farewell to an emperor in an ancient costume drama. "This dog... has become a spirit?" he muttered, watching Little Black push open the half-closed courtyard gate with its nose before disappearing into the morning mist.
"Quite the stickler for ceremony." Chen An scratched his head, bent down to inspect the three shallow pits left where Little Black had prostrated itself, and said, "It's probably better that it left. That'll save me some meat soup."
He turned, picked up the Clay Jar, and hummed an off-key tune while watering the vegetable seedlings, completely unaware that the Heavenly Secret of the Primordial Wilderness had already shifted quietly because of those three prostrations.
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