That night, a shocking case unfolded in Jingsha Ward.
Someone said that Old Man Yang's sheep were not truly sheep, but people transformed into sheep by the Livestock Creation Art.
And those sheep had originally been human!
The neighbors did not believe it, so the speaker, without another word, directly poured water down a sheep's throat.
After such treatment, the sheep truly transformed into a naked little child before everyone's eyes!
"Ahhh—"
Cries of shock rose and fell beneath the night sky and firelight, as though they might pierce the deep darkness itself.
Some hurriedly took off their outer garments to wrap around the child, while others scrambled to carry down the sheep from the cart and poured water into them in the same manner.
The young man hurriedly reminded them, "Wrap them in clothes before pouring the water! Ah, I forgot these sheep weren't wearing clothes—but how could people go without clothes?"
Fortunately, the one they had just rescued was a little boy.
It was one thing for a little boy to be naked, but a girl could not be treated this way.
The neighbors hurriedly wrapped the little sheep in clothing. As they did, some of the women were already weeping. "Whose children are these? How could they have been turned into sheep? Poor things, neither human nor beast in the middle of the night..."
For a time, the strange matter of people turning into sheep even overshadowed the fire. Even those fighting the blaze could not help growing slack, with most of them far more concerned about this business of "sheep becoming people, people becoming sheep."
Yet the fire could not simply be ignored. People hastily fetched water and splashed it over the flames. The great peace jars at the ward entrance had long since been put to use, when someone suddenly said, "Something's wrong. Why won't this fire go out?"
Someone else said, "Something's wrong. This fire won't go out, but it isn't spreading either. It's only burning Old Man Yang's home."
Suddenly, several people rushed over from the side of the chaotic street.
A woman charged ahead at the very front. Seeing one of the children beside the cart who had changed back into human form, she burst into tears. "Niu Dan! It's my Niu Dan! My son! So you were here all along—you were taken by those black-hearted, thousand-knives-worthy, pus-dripping-from-the-soles-of-their-feet bastards..."
"It was Old Man Yang! Old Woman Yang!"
Amid the chaos, it was as though a bolt from a clear sky had cleaved apart every shroud of confusion.
At last, the people understood.
"Old Woman Yang abducted children and turned them into sheep, then slaughtered those sheep and sold them in the market. Doesn't that mean the sheep Old Woman Yang had been selling all this time were never sheep at all, but people?"
Boom—
Thunder exploded in everyone's hearts.
"Bleurgh!"
Someone immediately vomited on the spot.
Others had already thrown up everything from the night before in a torrent.
Still others wept until tears and snot streamed down their faces. Seeming to recall something, they tried to rush into the burning house to seek revenge on the Yang mother and son.
"My little girl disappeared during the Lantern Festival two years ago. You said she had been abducted by child-snatchers, but that wasn't it, was it? It was you, Old Woman Yang... Ahhh!"
Amid the heart-rending wails, the night watchman hurried over with the men from Wuhou Post.
The neighbors hurriedly crowded forward to explain the situation. All the little sheep on the cart had returned to human form. Some children were bawling loudly, while kindhearted women busied themselves soothing them.
The village head of Jingsha Ward quickly asked the Wuhou leading the group, "Only one of these children is from our Jingsha Ward. We do not recognize the rest, nor do we know where Old Woman Yang abducted them from. We must ask you gentlemen to help them find their way home."
This was both a strange case and a meritorious deed, so naturally the Wuhou did not refuse.
At some point, the fire died out on its own. The Yang home had been burned to charred ash, yet not even a single roof tile in the neighboring homes had caught fire.
The young man who had first told everyone that the little sheep were not sheep, but people, had already vanished into the crowd.
One neighbor suddenly remembered him and said in surprise, "Eh? Where did that person from earlier go? How did he disappear in the blink of an eye?"
Others stamped their feet in regret. "We can't find him. I wanted to ask what that hero he spoke of looked like. He must have been a great hero eight feet tall, with mighty divine powers. What a pity—I never got to see him!"
"Exactly! A hero broke into the den of a demon who cooks people at night, used fire magic to save young children—just thinking about it is thrilling. Why did I have to arrive so late?"
Some dealt with the aftermath, while others discussed it with excitement.
Meanwhile, Chen Xu, who had withdrawn after accomplishing his task, returned home through the night. To his surprise, another notification popped up on the Cauldron Scripture.
[Likes +1+1+1...]
What was going on?
Had someone else said in a dream that what he made was delicious?
Chen Xu inspected it closely and learned that was not the case—
It was not that, yet it was also that.
[You cooked the Demon Who Cooks People with Fire with blazing flames, and the world called it splendid.] [Likes +1+1+1...]
So that was it!
Small pots and humble stoves could cook the sweet, sour, bitter, and spicy flavors of life; the divine power of heartfire could likewise cook the myriad tastes of the human world.
For heaven and earth were the furnace, and creation the craftsman—what in this world could not be cooked?
Chen Xu stood in the darkness, looking back through the small window of his room at the faintly dying firelight at the far end of the long street. For a moment, his heart surged with emotion, a hundred flavors mingling within his chest.
It seemed he had stepped onto that road, yet he was still too far away, and had walked too shallowly upon it.
Chen Xu savored the feeling for a long while, until the tiny voices of the two Rat Demons sounded by his ear again.
The little rat squeaked, "Eh, there's a fire."
Ninth Master said, "A wicked Baleful Intent in the fire has been burned away. Very good."
The little rat asked curiously, "What Baleful Intent? Ninth Master, could some expert be coming to catch us? Oh no, we should hide..."
From the distant crevice came an aged voice with a sigh. "A Shi, are you a Baleful Intent? Do you commit evil?"
The little rat immediately said with disdain, "How could I possibly be a Baleful Intent? Didn't you say so, Ninth Master? We are different from Black Ghost Old Scar and that pack of rats.
We cultivate clear qi and seek to walk the Great Dao. We absolutely must not do treacherous, wicked, and vile things."
"Then why are you afraid of being caught by an expert?"
The little rat was instantly left speechless. Then it squeaked, "But, but even though we aren't bad rats, there are always Daoists who want to catch us..."
At last, its voice sank low until it faded away.
The two rats did not speak again.
Chen Xu's roiling emotions gradually settled as well. He stood before the window and let out a soft sigh.
At the same time, the firelight in Jingsha Ward seemed to reflect across to the other side of the city.
West City of Jichuan County, Lin Residence.
Lin Yuan suddenly jolted awake from the profound agony of his half-dreaming state, knocking over an oil lamp beside the mourning hall in one stroke.
Bang!
The oil lamp fell to the ground and set part of a curtain ablaze. The servants keeping vigil hurriedly came to put out the fire.
It did not become any great disaster, but Lin Yuan's mood was terrible.
Lin Qi had died in the end. All his efforts had been in vain. It was bad enough that he had failed to save Lin Qi, but his father and mother had also had a fierce quarrel over it, and they had offended Daoist Master Xuanjing of Qiyun Temple.
Although Daoist Master Xuanjing had carried himself like a true master and seemed not to have taken offense, who knew whether he truly did not mind, or was merely pretending not to?
Lin Yuan was vexed. He had kept watch in the mourning hall and suffered a nightmare. Even after waking, he was still chewing over the two words from his dream: "Sand dust."
According to the servant boy, these were the final two words Lin Qi had spoken before his death.
The more Lin Yuan thought about it, the more something felt wrong. Suddenly, he called out, "Song Yan, Song Yan, come here!"
Song Yan was the name of Lin Qi's personal servant.
Lin Yuan asked in a deep voice, "Song Yan, what has your young master done lately? Whom has he met? What has happened to him? Tell me every detail again, carefully and thoroughly."
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