Little Dragon King

The fierce brindled tiger with hanging eyes and a white brow roared twice and said strangely, "You cultivate the Qiankun Ring Method—how do you not know the origins of its lineage?"

The tiger spoke at length, like a learned old scholar: "There are many methods in the world for refining ring-shaped magical treasures, but none stray beyond the three great lineages of the Vajra Bracelet, the Qiankun Ring, and the Ruyi Hoop."

"Your ring can grow large or small and specializes in flying out to strike people. If it is not the Qiankun Ring, then what is it?"

"This method was passed down by the Great God of the Three Altars and Seas. The orthodox left-handed paths, evil demons, and Demon Race all possess its lineage, though each school's methods differ slightly."

"His origins are lofty indeed. He was an ancient divine being who cultivated from childhood, comprehended wondrous mysteries, and subdued the demon kings of seventy-two caverns. His deeds are too numerous to recount for the moment. If you are interested, find a copy of <Biography of the Great God of the Three Altars and Seas>, and you will understand the clues."

Wang Chong's fear gradually faded. He touched the somewhat dimmed bronze ring, curiosity stirring in his heart, and could not help asking, "Mountain Lord, your demonic aura is so formidable that it can diminish the refinement of my magical treasure. What powerful Daoist art do you cultivate?"

The fierce brindled tiger with hanging eyes and a white brow pressed its four paws to the ground and lay down. "The Demon Race all inherit the Myriad Demons Formula, though what each gains differs. After I became a spirit, I was innately granted a Black-Wind Spell. It specializes in eroding an opponent's cultivation. It is useful not only against magical treasures, but also quite effective against people."

Little Bug was startled and asked, "Isn't the Black-Wind Spell an inheritance of Black Wind Temple?"

The fierce brindled tiger with hanging eyes and a white brow let out a roar and answered, "I came from Black Wind Temple. I was once the mount of its old temple master and served him for more than three hundred years. After my old master ascended, I refused to submit to his descendants and left on my own, wandering in all directions."

Little Bug nodded repeatedly, looking simple and dull, but inwardly he cried, A tiger demon with cultivation like his would surely have a great reputation wherever he cultivated. I have never heard of tigers on White Egret Mountain, much less tiger demons. This tiger demon must have come from elsewhere.

He has deliberately chatted with me. So many things he said did not need saying at all, yet he has the manner of someone who holds nothing back and tells all he knows—a true chatterbox.

Something is wrong here.

Besides, how could it be such a coincidence? He came from Black Wind Temple too?

Though Little Bug firmly believed this tiger demon had some purpose, it was only a guess, and he did not dare take it for certain.

Thinking of Zhu Ying, he could not help asking, "I have a friend named Zhu Ying. He is fourteen or fifteen, handsome in appearance, and went missing today. Has Mountain Lord seen him?"

The fierce brindled tiger with hanging eyes and a white brow called out, "I have. He has already returned to the academy."

Little Bug was instantly overjoyed and cried, "So Brother Zhu was not harmed."

The fierce brindled tiger with hanging eyes and a white brow said, "I shall give you a ride."

Before Little Bug could refuse, it sprang forward, opened its great jaws, and caught Little Bug by the belt. Wind rose beneath its four paws, and with each leap it covered ten zhang. In less than half an hour, it left the forest and reached the foot of White Egret Mountain.

It released Little Bug and said, "The academy is ahead. It would not be convenient for me to show myself before people, so return on your own."

Little Bug gave a deep bow and headed toward the academy, though he still found it strange. The tiger's arrival had been mysterious; there had to be some reason behind it.

The moment Little Bug left, the fierce brindled tiger with hanging eyes and a white brow rolled on the spot and transformed into a burly man in yellow robes. He called out, "I have sent him back."

A youth in white drifted into view, accompanied by an even younger man whose features resembled his by five or six parts. It was Zhu Ying, who had been missing the entire day.

The youth in white cupped his hands in salute. "Thank you, Brother Lu."

The burly man in yellow, transformed from the tiger, also returned the salute and called, "Why be so courteous, Little Dragon King?"

The youth in white said, "I will treat Brother Lu to drinks another day."

The burly man in yellow gave a long, resounding howl and raced away. Black wind faintly surged around him, turning into a rolling tornado.

The instant the burly man in yellow departed, Zhu Ying cried, "Second Brother, I want to study at the academy. You cannot take me home."

The youth in white tapped Zhu Ying on the forehead and said with a trace of indulgence, "You have run away from home for quite some time. Our parents have both been worried. They told us that if we found you, we had to bring you home. Do not make things difficult for your second brother."

Zhu Ying wore a stubborn expression and refused to yield.

The youth in white sighed helplessly. "What will it take for you to agree to return home?"

Zhu Ying answered, "Let me study for another two years."

The youth in white said, "Two years is too long. I will allow you seven more days to play."

Zhu Ying cried, "How can seven days be enough? At least one year."

The two haggled back and forth, finally settling on half a month. The youth in white sighed several times before drifting away.

After seeing off his brother, Zhu Ying dared not delay. He formed a hand seal, and his entire body turned into a cloud of mist. In moments, the mist dispersed, and his figure vanished.

When Little Bug returned to the storeroom loft, he indeed found Zhu Ying reading. He could not help asking, "Where did you go? I could not find you all day."

Zhu Ying chuckled. "There were some family matters. I left before I had time to tell you. Do not be angry—I saved you something delicious."

Zhu Ying took out a food box. Inside were more than ten varieties of pastries, every one exquisitely made and beautiful in every delicate pose. They did not seem like food at all, making one reluctant to put chopsticks to them.

Seeing his friend safely returned, Little Bug was somewhat angry but ultimately relieved. He had been very hungry already, so he picked up a pastry and put it in his mouth. It was fragrant, sweet, refreshing, and incomparably soft and glutinous. He praised it again and again.

Zhu Ying gave the food box to Wang Chong but did not eat any himself. A faint smile rested on his lips as he watched him wolf down the food like a whirlwind sweeping away clouds and a storm devouring the sea. Suddenly, he asked, "Did you spend the whole day looking for me?"

Little Bug nodded and answered, "I searched everywhere inside and outside the academy. I was foolish—I should have sought out your family servants first. If they had no news, I should have reported it to the authorities. Would that not have been far more useful than searching blindly by myself?"

Zhu Ying smiled faintly. If Elder Brother had not seen him searching for me so mindlessly in the back mountain, he might not have been so accommodating and given me half a month.

The burly man in yellow stood gracefully atop the mountain.

The youth in white climbed the mountain at an easy pace as though riding in a carriage and said, "Rumors say that a treasure appeared at Little Cold Mountain and was acquired by White Spider Elder. No one knows what went wrong, but he simply cannot transport it away."

"Now that the news has spread, seventeen or eighteen groups of cultivators have already gone to join the excitement. Even quite a few martial wanderers have heard scattered bits of news and rushed there in a swarm. Let us go take a look as well."

The burly man in yellow said, "Very well."

The burly man in yellow raised a gust of black wind, while the youth in white controlled a mass of mist. Half wind and half fog, the two soon vanished into the distance.

After classes ended the next day, Zhu Ying called Wang Chong to the back mountain. He took out two wooden swords, handed one to him, and said, "Today, I will teach you the Primordial Sword Style."

"This sword style is divided into yin and yang branches. The Yang Sword Style is mortal martial arts, while the Yin Sword Style is the immortal method of wielding swords. Each has sixty-four forms."

Zhu Ying seemed somewhat anxious and did not explain everything carefully from the beginning. He performed the sixty-four moves of the Yang Sword Style once, then had him practice along.

Little Bug was naturally intelligent and never forgot what he saw, but he had studied books since childhood and had never practiced martial arts. He found every stance and movement exceedingly difficult to learn.