Night Visit to Xuanyuan Mound

"Summoning beasts? I thought you'd always looked down on that sort of thing," Ebizo said in response to Jing Hang's question.

"Looked down on it? Why would I?"

"When you were a Jonin, didn't you control Iron Men and fight Shukaku at the drop of a hat? I thought you..."

"Ah, it wasn't that I looked down on it. You know I came from an orphanage. The village paid for my education, and before my supervising Jonin, Doxi Da, could teach me the Summoning Technique, he died in the line of duty. After that, I became the Second's guard..."

"Mm, I knew that. The Second rarely used summoning beasts indeed. So you really didn't know how? Heh heh." Ebizo found it amusing.

"I really don't," Jing Hang said, spreading his hands.

"It doesn't matter if you don't. We can learn now. Let me first tell you about the major summoning beast clans of our Hidden Sand Village."

"I'm all ears."

"I won't introduce the smaller clans. I'm sure you wouldn't choose them anyway. The Hidden Sand Village has three major summoning beast clans: the Yellow Weasel Clan of Xuanyuan Mound, the Lizard Clan of Komodo Island, and the Scorpion Clan of Poison Enemy Mountain."

"Xuanyuan Mound? Isn't it called Weasel Mound?" Jing Hang was still asking in confusion when he received a neither-light-nor-heavy smack on the head.

"You deserved that. That's an outsider's derogatory name for the Yellow Weasel Clan. How can we call them that ourselves?"

"Oh, I see. Then I did deserve it. Which clan are your summoning beasts from?"

"My sister and I are both skilled with poison, so our summoning beasts are from the Scorpion Clan of Poison Enemy Mountain."

"Oh. Then which clan do you think I should choose for a summoning contract?"

"That depends on what you want to do. Each of the three clans has its own specialty."

"I have two goals. First, to learn Sage Arts. Second, to guard against genjutsu."

"In that case, you'd best choose the Yellow Weasel Clan. The Lizard Clan specializes in stealth and reconnaissance, while the Scorpion Clan specializes in poison and assassination. The Yellow Weasel Clan is the one truly proficient in Sage Arts and genjutsu. By the way, my brother-in-law's summoning beasts are from the Yellow Weasel Clan."

"Lord Reto's summoning beasts are also from the Yellow Weasel Clan?"

"That's right!"

"Then where is the Yellow Weasel Clan's contract scroll?"

"It should be with my nephew."

"Akasuna Guimu?"

"That's right!"

"Kazekage-sama, it's not impossible for you to sign a contract with the Yellow Weasel Clan, but there is a ritual that differs from those of other summoning beasts. I must explain it to you first," Akasuna Guimu said patiently to Jing Hang.

"Oh? Go on."

"The first time anyone who signs the contract performs a summoning, they must bring a live chicken and use the Reverse Summoning Technique to travel to Xuanyuan Mound. Only after offering chicken blood to the Yellow Immortal at Xuanyuan Mound and gaining his approval will the contract be considered officially formed."

"Oh, I see. Do you have any live chickens at your residence?"

"Uh, yes, but Kazekage-sama, there's no need to be in such a hurry, is there?"

"Sigh, this sort of thing shouldn't be put off. The longer it drags on, the less settled I feel. Sasori—ah, my good godson, go! Catch one of your family's chickens for me." Jing Hang cut his finger and wrote his name on the scroll. Just then, he caught sight of Sasori flashing past the doorway and immediately called him over to catch a chicken.

Sasori was at the age when he was especially mischievous. The moment he heard his godfather's words, his little eyes darted as a prank immediately came to mind. He ran straight to the coop and caught the crowing rooster that woke him from bed every morning.

"Godfather, here." Sasori of the Red Sand stuffed the chicken into Jing Hang's hands as though presenting a treasure.

"Are you messing around? Isn't this the crowing rooster? Go get another one."

"Forget it, this one will do. Later, go get a receipt from Pakura for reimbursement. Put it under office expenses," Jing Hang said to Guimu with a smile.

"Reverse Summoning Technique." With a poof and a cloud of white smoke, Jing Hang vanished before Sasori of the Red Sand.

"Ancestor, eat mine."

"Ancestor, eat mine."

"Ancestor, eat mine."

The brightly lit hall seemed to be hosting a grand banquet. Countless tables stretched as far as the eye could see, each bearing a large longevity character. It appeared to be the birthday banquet of some highly respected person, and the air was thick with the fragrance of wine and meat.

Yet the atmosphere was far from harmonious. At that moment, the eyes of everyone at the banquet were fixed upon the two seats of honor at the head table.

An obese old man with a yellow beard, dressed in birthday celebrant's robes, sat sideways in a grand chair with his knees hugged to his chest, sulking. He blew his beard and glared, like a child denied the toy he wanted most, his lips jutted out high. The people beside him, seemingly his children, each held something as they tried to persuade him to eat.

On closer inspection, the things in their hands were all kinds of chicken—roast chicken, stewed chicken, boiled chicken, braised chicken, fried chicken, stir-fried chicken, pressed chicken, sautéed chicken, curry chicken, poached chicken, gourd chicken, beggar's chicken, salt-baked chicken, three-yellow chicken, and even chicken sashimi—raw chicken!

Every one of them gave off an enticing aroma that made mouths water. Yet the fat old man remained extraordinarily stubborn, shaking his head like a rattle drum as he repeatedly muttered, "Take it away. Not eating."

"You damned old fool! The children went through all that trouble to show their filial piety by laying out this ten-thousand-chicken feast for your three-thousandth birthday. You never said anything earlier, and now you insist on drinking the blood of a crowing rooster. Aren't you making things difficult for them? I say you should just pick one you like and eat it. Don't put the children in such a bind!"

An elderly woman in the guise of an old matron tried to persuade him. But the fat old man still refused to budge, continuing to mutter, "Take it away. Not eating."

Just as everyone was at their wits' end, a poof rang out. Amid a cloud of white smoke, a blue-haired young man appeared before them. It was none other than Jing Hang.

In his hand, he held the crowing rooster from Akasuna Guimu's home.

The chicken had been sleeping soundly in its coop when its young master suddenly dragged it out. Before it could figure out what was happening, Jing Hang had suddenly brought it to this brilliantly lit hall. The hall was as bright as day, so the chicken assumed dawn had arrived. Thus, before everyone's eyes, it began to crow!

"Cock-a-doodle-doo! Cock-a-doodle-doo! Cock-a-doodle-doo!" After the three cries, the entire hall fell silent. Everyone stared at the rooster in Jing Hang's hand.

"Hahaha! My wish has been granted! My wish has been granted!" The yellow-bearded old man, squatting in his chair, clapped happily. His mouth stretched wide, his eyes opened round, and drool ran from the corners of his lips as he muttered, "Give it to me. Give it to me."

Still unsure of the situation, Jing Hang obediently handed over the chicken. The old man snatched it away, clamping both wings tightly in his left hand while his right hand rapidly plucked the feathers from its neck. Before long, he had stripped it bare.

A savage gleam flashed through the fat old man's eyes as he sank his teeth into the chicken's neck. The entire process was incredibly fast. Before the chicken could even cry out twice, it had already been reduced to kicking its legs.

As the fat old man drank the chicken's blood, his appearance began to change. His hands became claws, his ears gradually grew larger, and a huge tail burst from behind him! He transformed into an enormous yellow-bearded, white-furred weasel!

"Wonderful! Wonderful! Wonderful!" The yellow-bearded, white-furred weasel domineeringly tossed aside the blood-drained crowing rooster and shouted three times in satisfaction. Then he pointed at Jing Hang with one claw.

"Good lad! Well done. From this day forth, you may tell those outside that you are the godson of me, the Yellow Immortal." The crowd could not help but cry out in alarm upon hearing the white-furred yellow weasel's words!

"Ah?!" Jing Hang was even more bewildered.