Most Poisonous Is the Human Heart

But there was no sign of the shopkeeper in front of Fang Shu.

The old fox steward and several attendants had all vanished in a flash.

The monsters in the tavern scrambled up onto the beams or into holes. Some were so frightened their bodies went numb; they lay stiffly where they were, playing dead.

At that moment, a figure came walking against the flow at the tavern entrance.

The monsters that had crawled out all looked flustered and, pissing themselves in terror, crawled back inside.

Fang Shu looked over.

"Don't skip out on your tab. Get back inside," a muffled voice sounded from outside.

The monsters returning to the tavern looked fearfully at Fang Shu, then behind them.

They dared neither approach nor retreat, and could only stand obediently at the tavern entrance without moving, holding their breath and concealing their presence.

Whispers also rose from the crowd. "The proprietor—the proprietor is here!"

"Old Fox Steward finally invited his godfather over."

Fang Shu was surprised. That old fox was not even the one in charge?

Then a tiger head full of bitter misery suddenly poked in through the curtains.

It did resemble the old fox somewhat. With a sorrowful face, it surveyed the scene inside the tavern before slowly hopping into the hall.

This old tiger was painfully thin, its shoulder blades protruding and its head hanging limply.

(Bee-eater Painting—painter Hua Yan)

Had its tiger frame not been so large, it would have looked no different from a sickly cat.

Yet Fang Shu did not dare underestimate this gaunt tiger.

The gaunt tiger stood upright, picked up a wine jar from the shop, and looked at Fang Shu. "Was it this young Daoist master who demanded wine?"

Fang Shu studied it, nodded unhurriedly, and tapped the wine bowl with the bronze bell in his hand.

"Fill it."

The sorrow on the gaunt tiger's face did not fade. It said, "No rush, no rush."

Holding the wine jar in one hand, it walked over to a deer spirit. With a crack, it snapped off a bloody section of antler, muttering, "Wine truly is no good unless it is steeped. It needs more things steeped in it to have flavor and substance."

Before it had finished speaking, it walked up to a bull demon and gouged out both its eyeballs alive.

Finally, it carried the wine to Fang Shu, set it on the table, and plopped the two bull eyeballs and three demon hearts into the jar.

"There." Only then did the gaunt tiger proprietor step back, saying mournfully, "Once you have finished this jar, honored guest, please be on your way."

"Which way?" Fang Shu asked.

The gaunt tiger squeezed out a few strands of a smile. "Naturally, the way you came."

Fang Shu slapped the wine bowl upside down on the table and laughed.

"Take it away, take it away. What I wanted was wine steeped with human hearts, not demon hearts."

The smile vanished from the gaunt tiger's face.

It stood in the hall, its tiger frame slowly rising as vicious light shot from its eyes.

Roar!

Its tail was like a long scorpion, its fur like copper threads, its teeth like steel saws. In the blink of an eye, it transformed into a ferocious striped tiger, its arms thicker than Fang Shu's waist, its body nearly a zhang long, its reeking breath rushing into his face.

The tavern instantly fell silent enough to hear a needle drop.

Yet Fang Shu sat upright, his smile only widening as he stared straight into the tiger's eyes.

Awooo! Suddenly, the tiger proprietor drew itself back in.

It flopped back onto the floor and looked up at Fang Shu meekly. "If the honored guest refuses to leave, then I'll leave instead."

Fang Shu neither agreed nor disagreed. He merely pointed at the three "human livestock" in the hall.

Seeing this, the gaunt tiger sighed softly and explained.

"Young Daoist master, this shop is only a small business. Though we sell humans, we do not sell many.

"Besides, they do not count as human. I beg the Daoist master to see clearly."

The gaunt tiger prowled through the hall, extending a claw toward the gaunt dog and white pig tied to the benches.

"This woman fornicated with a dog, causing her husband to die miserably in its jaws, his manhood bitten clean off.

"This man coupled with a pig, disgracing his whole household and driving both parents to hang themselves in the hall."

Fang Shu listened quietly without speaking, only frowning.

The gaunt tiger pointed again at the old goat on the beam.

"And this old thing. As the saying goes, 'Even a vicious tiger does not eat its cubs,' yet this old thing drowned all three of his granddaughters in a cesspit, leaving not one alive."

Having finished, it lowered its brows and bowed to Fang Shu, asking respectfully, "May I ask, young Daoist master, are they human, or are they not?"

Fang Shu's brow relaxed, but he still said nothing. Only his throat worked with a gurgling sound.

Suddenly, he wiped a hand across his lips and pulled the long tongue from his mouth.

At first, it was soft and pink, shaped like a belt. But with a stroke of his hand, its entire length stiffened, transforming into a three-foot sword.

Teng! Fang Shu flicked the blade before exhaling his answer. "Whether true or false, human or not human, what has it to do with me!"

Before his words had faded, his body sprang from the wine table and he thrust out his sword.

Though the gaunt tiger had not been looking at Fang Shu, it had remained vigilant at every moment.

The instant Fang Shu burst up, its pupils shrank. Its tiger tail lashed like a long whip with a crack, easily yanking the old goat from the beam and hurling it at Fang Shu.

As for the gaunt tiger itself, it ran for the tavern exit without even turning its head.

Pfft!

Faced with the old goat flying at him, Fang Shu did not dodge. He stepped forward and swept out his sword, cleaving the old goat in two without the slightest resistance.

The Long-Tongue Sword flew on like a strip of white silk, stabbing toward the gaunt tiger at the door.

Blood sprayed.

The gaunt tiger's face revealed shock. "What a ruthless heart, what a swift sword!"

It had no choice but to abandon its plan of fleeing the tavern. Instead, it rolled at the doorway, shrank its body, and slipped like a big cat among the tables, chairs, counter, and piles of wine.

Seeing the gaunt tiger escape intact, Fang Shu showed no regret. Instead, delight appeared on his face.

He did not move to pursue it, merely turned and stood before the two cloth curtains.

Looking back into the tavern, a hazy mist had silently risen through the hall.

The monsters that had been trembling inside moments ago now climbed up from the ground one after another as if possessed, their eyes glowing green as they looked at Fang Shu.

Even Fang Shu himself felt his head grow slightly muddled.

He immediately raised a finger and flicked the bronze bell at his waist.

Jingle, jingle! His mind cleared at once.

The shop's monsters were already moving, walking and crawling toward him as they wailed, "Spare us, Daoist master! I haven't eaten a single bite!"

"Please show mercy! There are still eighteen little ones in my cave crying for food!"

Pleas for mercy rang everywhere.

Hearing them, Fang Shu revealed a shy expression and answered, "Fine! I am kind-hearted and cannot bear to see pitiful things."

Sshk! Sshk!

He casually swept out his sword. "Today, I shall send all of you on your way together and be done with it."

A rat spirit and a chicken spirit were skewered straight through and fell dead to the floor.

Aah! Aah! Aah!

The other monsters grew even more terrified, yet they crowded harder toward the exit, heedless of everything else.

Fang Shu did not care. Blocking the monsters' way, he struck with clean efficiency.

When the old came, he killed the old; when the young came, he killed the young; when the flirtatious came, he killed the flirtatious. Those that flew or crawled, leaped or walked, ate plants or meat—whoever came, he killed.

One with every sword stroke, two with every two strokes, he killed to his heart's content, demon blood dripping from his blade.

After killing for quite a while, the monsters downstairs had been thinned out. Fang Shu simply removed the bronze bell from his waist and hung it on the cloth curtains, suppressing the exit.

Then he strode forward in great steps.

The moment he left the bronze bell's protection, Fang Shu found the scene before his eyes growing hazy.

The monsters still poking their heads out inside the tavern also transformed. No longer were they creatures pissing themselves in terror; now they began kowtowing and bowing, and they even wore human-like appearances.

But Fang Shu paid them no heed.

A man shouted, "I am willing to be your slave, to guard your home and watch your gate, Daoist master!"

"Dog slave, what makes you worthy?"

An old man kowtowed. "I eat grass. I am meant to be eaten."

"What right do you have to eat grass?"

He first slaughtered a round beneath the tavern, then killed his way up to the second floor.

On the second floor, the scene in Fang Shu's eyes changed again. Friends and relatives actually appeared.

He smiled.

With sword in hand, he continued onward, killing anyone he met, killing any Daoist he met, killing parents when he met parents, killing kin when he met kin.

Whomever he encountered, he killed. Like chopping melons and slicing vegetables, he killed until heads rolled throughout the vast tavern and corpses lay strewn everywhere.

At last, after making a round, Fang Shu returned to the tavern hall. The Long-Tongue Sword in his hand had drunk its fill of monsters' heartblood, bright red and ready to drip.

Even his own face was flushed and hot, his body swaying as though drunk.

At that moment, a ragged woman clutching swaddling clothes knelt in the hall. An infant's crying came from within the bundle in her arms.

The woman looked at Fang Shu with mournful pleading. "Daoist master, please show mercy. I was captured and brought here. I ask not to live, only that you spare my child. It understands nothing..."

"Very well." Fang Shu stepped forward, making as if to take the swaddling clothes.

The woman rejoiced and immediately moved to hand over the bundle.

But crack! The sound of a jar shattering rang out!

With the motion, Fang Shu thrust his sword. It not only pierced the bundle in the woman's arms, but pinned the woman to the ground as blood poured endlessly from her chest.

Whoosh, whoosh! The surroundings instantly changed.

The tavern shook. Tiles vanished, beams vanished, bricks vanished. All that remained were human hair matted into felt, rotten bones piled in heaps, and a tattered curtain glued together with blood.

The curtain enclosed three sides. Beyond all three were cliffs more than a hundred zhang deep, shrouded in vast mist.

The tavern entrance had become the only passage down the cliff. In the middle of the passage hung two dripping sheets of human skin, with a bronze bell suspended above them.

When the wind blew, the human skins immediately clinked and jingled.

As for the corpses of old and young in the tavern, they had all become chickens, ducks, cats, dogs, cattle, horses, pigs, sheep, snakes, insects, rats, and ants—large and small, sprawled dead everywhere. Only two halves of a shriveled human body lay in the hall.

With a glance at the woman in the hall, Fang Shu discovered she was the tiger proprietor.

The swaddling clothes in its hands were the jar of wine it had meant to offer earlier.

The wine was black-red. After spilling, it sizzled, and a swarm of venomous bees crawled out, buzzing as they stung the gaunt tiger. They immediately burrowed into its flesh, leaving it in unbearable agony as it howled without end.

The old demon lay sprawled on the ground, glaring venomously at Fang Shu. Knowing its life could not be saved, it merely groaned hoarsely, "What savagery, what viciousness! What a man who kills as easily as hemp..."

Fang Shu looked at the tiger demon, somewhat surprised.

It was not the other's treachery and hypocrisy that surprised him. Rather, he was surprised that it too had been so unable to withstand killing, finished with a single sword thrust.

But Fang Shu did not waste words. With a slick motion, he withdrew his sword, then pierced straight through its chest again and cut off its head as well.

Only then did he notice something amiss. Keeping the tiger demon lifted on his sword, he gave it a light shake.

Thud!

A shriveled fox body rolled out from within the tiger skin. The huge tiger head also became a sharp, long, skinny fox head—it was the old fox steward from before.

It died with eyes wide open, glaring venomously at Fang Shu. Its mouth was even still slightly opening and closing.

Fang Shu suddenly understood. "So it was 'a fox borrowing a tiger's might.'"

His body also swayed aside alertly, avoiding several venomous bees that crawled out of the old fox's mouth.

The venomous bees wobbled to the ground and turned into pus, which even corroded the rocks beneath them with a sizzling sound.

Fang Shu raised his brows.

Then he paced among the monster corpses scattered across the mountain and cliffs. After checking who was dead and who was alive, he swallowed his sword back into his mouth.

He stopped, suddenly looking back at the old fox's corpse. Shaking his head, he said, "Why use poison? Has the shopkeeper forgotten?"

"From the green bamboo snake's mouth, and the yellow wasp's tail, both have poison—" Fang Shu chanted.

He smiled faintly.

"'Yet the most poisonous thing is the human heart.'"