Wild Dog Daoist

The torches were all deep in the mountains, with only scattered points of firelight appearing from the peaks, startling quite a few villagers who had risen in the night.

The villagers of the Yang Family Hunting Grounds all knew the ravines were deep, filled with venomous insects and savage beasts—tigers and bears were not uncommon. Entering the mountains at night meant courting danger, unless one was a desperate undocumented fugitive fleeing corvée labor. That was truly a path where nine died for every one who lived.

Though puzzled, they did not wake the others to investigate.

"Fifth Brother's remains are here?"

At that moment, a low, icy voice came from deep within the mountains.

By torchlight, numerous cloaked figures appeared amid the sound of hoofbeats. Each carried blades or swords, broad-shouldered and powerfully built, yet not one spoke. The four men at their head stared at a figure ahead. Upon the back of a strange huge dog, as large as a small colt, sat a bald Daoist with an eight-shaped moustache and narrow brows. A satchel hung from his waist, and he wore a yellow-and-black Daoist robe. Seven or eight sleek-furred dogs stood beside him.

These dogs were unlike those in the villages. They were larger, their eyes filled with blood-red and gray hues, their bodies exuding an eerie aura like ghosts roaming the mountains.

As the pack searched, they seemed gradually to catch a scent. Before long, they arrived beneath a rocky cave carpeted in bluish-green moss.

"Woof! Woof! Woof!"

The dogs surrounded the cave and barked furiously, yet none dared descend.

Seeing this, the old Daoist gave a light leap and landed before the cave. After one glance, he said, "Seems like a bottomless pit. It's at least a hundred meters deep—a fine place to dump a corpse!"

From the darkness, four figures of differing temperaments slowly stepped forward, each holding a weapon. One was a tall, stern-faced brute, who said flatly, "Second Brother, can you haul him up?"

A trace of red had already entered his eyes.

The old Daoist glanced into the deep, pitch-black narrow hole, stroked his beard slightly, and said, "No great problem!"

He deftly opened the satchel he carried and rummaged through it. A moment later, he gave a soft cry.

"Found it!"

Two fuzzy vine whips appeared in his hands. As he silently chanted an incantation, the many burly men watched with strange, fearful expressions as the furry vines suddenly grew swiftly like long snakes, plunging into the depths of the cave in an instant. His gaze swept over them, and a touch of pride gleamed in his eyes.

"Grow, grow, grow! Grow more for this Daoist!"

In the black mountain wind, the two vine whips wrapped around his waist shot dozens of meters into the cave in the blink of an eye. A moment later, his sparse brows twitched.

"Found him!"

He immediately chanted a spell and drew in the vines at his waist. Yet the vines rippled and writhed like waves without rising in the slightest.

The old Daoist could not help frowning.

"Did they tie him to a rock?"

The men exchanged looks. It seemed Fifth Leader had encountered someone who blackmailed blackmailers—someone even more efficient at the trade than their Hengling Stockade.

Only the other three leaders sensed something was wrong. They looked toward the leading brute.

Seeing everyone's eyes turn toward him, the old Daoist seemed unable to bear the loss of face. He snorted coldly.

"This won't stump me either!"

He took another sheet of yellow paper from his satchel. On closer inspection, it was a paper figurine. After a moment's thought, he drew out a small paper blade and stuck it into the figurine's hand.

"That settles it. Go, split that rock open for me!"

He blew a breath at it, and the paper figurine instantly flew up, drifting down into the depths of the cave.

Rumble!

Not long afterward, a thunderous crash sounded from deep within the cave.

"Come!"

The old Daoist roared, and a gust of black wind surged from the depths. In an instant, accompanied by the sound of rocks at the cave mouth cracking apart, a bloodstained bundle of clothing was swept up from below.

When the bundle landed, several ribs stained with dried blood spilled out from within.

In the mountain wind, that heap of bloodstained white bones seemed still to be sobbing softly. The atmosphere instantly froze. The old Daoist merely retrieved the paper figurine that flew back to him and quietly stepped aside.

The leading brute watched this scene, his eyes turning scarlet. He clenched his fists and slowly crouched down. Countless tangled memories surfaced in his mind. The seven brothers and sisters had become orphans early on, and he had raised these siblings with his own hands. Yet in the end, only this one younger brother had survived. His other brothers and sisters had either starved to death, frozen to death, died of illness, or perished in the struggles of blades and war.

By the time he had finally established himself in Hengling Stockade and made a name for himself, only one blood brother remained.

His gaze settled on the old Daoist.

"Luo Zifu, can you find the killer?"

Murderous ferocity filled his eyes.

"Give this Daoist a few days. With my precious beasts, it won't be difficult!!"

Wild Dog Daoist glanced at the vicious dogs scattered around them, certainty in his eyes.

"Find him. I want his entire family buried with my Fifth Brother!"

The "Lone-Walker Heavenly King" of Hengling Stockade looked utterly cold.

The old Daoist immediately stroked his beard and said, "Big Brother, there's no need to make things so troublesome. Fifth Brother's vengeance is the vengeance of everyone at Hengling Stockade. Leave it to me!"

"Big Brother should first gather Fifth Brother's remains and give him a proper burial. Then invite someone to perform rites, so Fifth Brother may be reborn sooner!"

The brute said nothing. He merely looked toward the other two men beside him, one holding a hooked sword and the other a thick-backed saber, then said coldly, "Fourth Brother, Sixth Brother, stay and lend Second Brother a hand! Second Brother's fists and feet are not quite enough. Sometimes that can hinder his work!"

"Don't worry, Big Brother. Leave it to us!"

The two nodded in turn. Wild Dog Daoist Luo Zifu wanted to speak but hesitated. He wished to say that he could manage alone, but in the end, he did not defy his eldest brother's wishes.

Grief showed on the brute's face. Without another word, he removed his conical hat, carefully wrapped up the bloodstained cloth bundle and bones, then turned, mounted his horse, and rode swiftly away.

Seeing this, the rest of the men and horses departed as well. Only Wild Dog Daoist Luo Zifu and the other two brutes remained behind.

Luo Zifu looked in the direction the others had gone, then said softly, "Let's get to work. We should settle this quickly, so as not to delay Big Brother's auspicious date!"

After thinking for a moment, he whistled. The seven or eight vicious dogs immediately rose to their feet. They had already memorized the scent lingering on the peddler's bloody clothes. If they searched long enough, they would surely find something.

Inside the Daoist temple, the afternoon was already more than half gone. In the kitchen, the fire-working Daoists hurried about, preparing for the banquet of the temple's eminent and accomplished Daoists. The Daoist boys, meanwhile, had become idle. In twos and threes, they all looked toward Yang Huai, their eyes full of eager longing.

The white-haired Daoist boy Mao Hong stood to one side. Unlike the others' simple envy, Mao Hong also carried a trace of expectation.

He had been waiting here for some time. His gaze remained fixed on the second cloud-patterned Human King wooden carving beside Yang Huai, which had already been completed, then on the third Human King carving still in progress.

When Yang Huai completed another Human King wooden carving, Mao Hong finally could not restrain himself.

"Senior Brother Qingli, how about we make another trade?"

His eyes fell directly upon the second cloud-patterned Human King wooden carving.

"One for one again?"

He did not look at the other scattered Human King carvings. Although the third carving Yang Huai had made already possessed a portion of its divine bearing, that bearing was incomplete. Its effect could not compare with the cloud-patterned Human King wooden carving flowing with mysterious Daoist resonance.

He took a large green peach from his robes. Spiritual energy surged over its surface.

Yang Huai glanced at it, and his eyes immediately stirred.

Just as he was about to speak, a voice came from afar.

"Wait. I want that wooden carving!"

A familiar voice rang out from several dozen paces away. Feng Ying strode over, and the instant he reached Yang Huai's side, he directly picked up the second cloud-patterned Human King wooden carving. After a single glance, his eyes lit up.

Mao Hong flew into a rage at the sight. His arms were long, and he stepped forward to snatch the cloud-patterned Human King wooden carving.

"Junior Brother Feng, I had my eye on that first!"

"You had your eye on it first? With that five-hundred-year Green Jade Spirit Peach in your hand? I'm afraid that isn't enough!"

Feng Ying smoothly dodged aside. At the same time, an invisible pressure spread from his body. Behind him, an apparition of wind and lightning intertwining faintly formed a shapeless humanoid figure. As the wind and lightning took shape, the pressure emerged, making every hair on Mao Hong's body stand on end. A tawny yellow appeared deep in his pupils, flickering with intense hostility.

"Lightning arts. Damn the Wind Clan!"

Yet he did not choose to attack. Private fighting was forbidden in the Daoist temple. If caught fighting privately, they would be sent to patrol the wilderness outside Wanqu City. In the desolate wilds, countless evil spirits roamed at night. No Daoist boy whose Daoist cultivation was still incomplete would wish to face such a trial.

Of course, they could also choose to go down the mountain and settle things head-on.

But if they fought with Daoist arts, he truly might not be able to defeat the other.

Feng Ying ignored Mao Hong and opened his fingers. Two red jade fruits, gleaming all over with spiritual light, appeared in his hand.

"How about two thousand-year Vermilion Fruits?"

The moment those two red jade fruits appeared, Mao Hong was rendered speechless.

Inside, he could only curse loudly.

"You damn rich bastard! Prodigal!"