Rat Demon

The stream flowed between the mountain rocks, crystal-clear to the bottom. Several finger-length silver fish darted through the water grass.

Chen Chong stood bare-chested by the stream, soaking his outer garment and scrubbing it hard. The bloodstains on the lapels had already dried to dark brown; once soaked in cold water, they spread into pale red smudges.

The first time he had done this, he had not paid much attention. When the sickle split Wang Yu's neck, blood had sprayed out and splattered all over him, even staining his cuffs.

He could not go to the gathering point looking like this. He could only wash himself clean first.

The fire crackled. A simple wooden rack stood beside it, his washed outer garment drying over the flames. Chen Chong squatted bare-chested by the stream and used the water's surface as a mirror. His shoulders and back were broad, his skin and flesh taut, gleaming with a faint glaze beneath the sunlight.

A Skin Tempering Realm body looked far better than the dead muscles he had built in the gym in his previous life.

When his clothes had dried, Chen Chong shook them out, put them on, slung his bamboo basket over his back, and headed toward the gathering point.

The gathering point was a residence halfway up the mountain.

No one knew which dynasty it had been built in. Some rich young master had constructed this mountain villa: blue bricks, dark tiles, three main rooms with two side rooms, all enclosed by a tightly sealed courtyard wall. Two old osmanthus trees had even been planted before the gate, their crowns shading half the sky.

Unfortunately, it had fallen into disrepair over the years. Houseleeks grew from the roof tiles, and the paint on the gate had peeled away. The apothecary had gotten a bargain because of it. Whenever they came up the mountain to gather herbs, they rested here, counted their supplies, and sorted them.

From outside, the courtyard looked perfectly quiet. The sun was sinking westward, casting slanted light and shadows over the walls. The old osmanthus leaves gleamed silver-green in the wind.

No smoke rose from the chimney, and the windows were shut as well.

As Chen Chong drew close, his nose twitched.

The smell of blood.

Thick and fresh, the scent of rust mingled with an indescribable rank stench, seeping out through the crack beneath the gate.

He still wore a faint smile when he pushed the gate open, thinking, Did everyone catch some prey? There are wild rabbits and pheasants in the mountains. If they were lucky, they might even run into a muntjac. Maybe I can scrounge some meat.

The gate opened.

The smile froze on his face.

More than a dozen corpses lay scattered across the courtyard.

They were all apothecary servants.

Uncle Zhang, who cut medicinal herbs, lay crooked across the stone steps, a huge hole torn through his chest, his eyes still open. Old Li, who dried herbs, sprawled over a bamboo tray, the clothes on his back shredded, his flesh a bloody blur.

Several younger men were clustered at the entrance to the side room, as though they had tried to flee but failed to make it out.

Blood had seeped into the gaps between the blue bricks, spreading into a dark red map. The foul reek in the air was almost enough to drive a person back out.

And in the center of the courtyard, an enormous rat was sucking the blood from a corpse.

It was dozens of centimeters long. Its gray-brown fur gleamed with oil as its forepaws held a severed arm. Its pointed snout pressed to the wound, sucking with wet smacking sounds. Its thick tail dragged across the ground like a whip.

A demon beast.

In this world, where there were martial artists, there were naturally demon beasts as well. So-called demon beasts were wild animals that had mutated after absorbing the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, or devouring heavenly treasures. Their sinews and bones were powerful, their claws and fangs sharp. More terrifying still, their intelligence gradually awakened, and they learned to seek profit and avoid harm.

The Rat Demon turned its head.

A pair of blood-red, bean-sized eyes stared straight at Chen Chong.

Then it pounced.

It was incredibly fast—

Chen Chong only saw a blur before a gray shadow was already in front of him. He instinctively swung his sickle, its blade chopping into the Rat Demon's body.

Clang!

The sound of metal striking metal rang out. The sickle jolted his tiger's mouth numb. Only a shallow white mark remained on the Rat Demon's fur.

Chen Chong's heart tightened.

The Rat Demon landed, rolled over, and pounced again. Chen Chong twisted aside to dodge and slashed with the sickle once more.

Clang!

The rebounding force made his arm ache and go numb. The Rat Demon's claws grazed his ribs, leaving three white marks across his skin and flesh. They had not broken through, but they burned fiercely.

Man and rat became locked in combat in the courtyard. With the boundless vitality and unbroken breath granted by his Green Mountain Breathing Method at Great Perfection, Chen Chong could still hold on through his shifts, turns, and evasions. But he could not bring down this Rat Demon.

Striking it with the sickle was like chopping an iron block. He could not break its defense at all.

Without the corresponding Green Mountain Five Forms, he could not bring out the true strength of the Skin Tempering Realm. Fists, footwork, exertion—without matching martial techniques, he had a body full of strength but nowhere to use it.

Chen Chong grew anxious. The corner of his eye swept over the ground, where he spotted a money pouch.

Judging by its appearance, it belonged to the steward, Wang Hu. It was made of dark blue coarse cloth, tied shut with hemp rope, and lay beside a corpse. Wang Hu was already dead, face-down on the ground with a bloody hole in the back of his head.

An idea flashed through Chen Chong's mind. He lured the Rat Demon toward it, retreating as he blocked with his sickle. The Rat Demon lunged eagerly. Chen Chong sidestepped and swept the sickle horizontally.

Clang! The Rat Demon was forced half a step back.

Seizing the chance, Chen Chong bent down and snatched up the money pouch. It felt heavy in his hand, holding more than two taels of silver.

"Dark blue, add... no, panel. Simplify the Green Mountain Five Forms."

"Simplification successful. Green Mountain Five Forms—punching."

The panel flashed faintly.

[Technique: Green Mountain Five Forms (Beginner 1/100)]

The Rat Demon pounced again.

Chen Chong had no time to think. He threw a punch. There was no stance, no flourish—just the simplest straight punch. But this was the punching simplified by the panel, the most fundamental form of the Green Mountain Five Forms.

Clang!

Again came the sound of metal colliding. Chen Chong's fist smashed into the Rat Demon's face, sending it flying backward. It rolled twice across the ground.

It scrambled up, a flicker of hesitation passing through its blood-red bean eyes. But its ferocity remained, and it pounced again.

Chen Chong threw another punch.

Clang!

This time, the sound carried a hint of dullness. The Rat Demon flew backward and slid half a meter across the ground, a trace of blood seeping through its fur.

The third punch.

The Rat Demon's movements slowed by a beat. Chen Chong's fist slammed into its spine. The sound of cracking bones rang out, and the Rat Demon collapsed onto the ground, its limbs twitching.

The fourth punch. The fifth punch...

Chen Chong swung his fists as though he never knew fatigue.

Until the Rat Demon stopped moving entirely.

Chen Chong squatted on the ground, gasping for breath. Sweat dripped from his chin into the gaps between the blue bricks. His fists were covered in gray-brown fur and dark red blood. His knuckles throbbed with pain, and several fine cracks had split across his skin and flesh. But he had survived.

He sat down and opened the panel.

[Technique: Green Mountain Five Forms (Proficient 127/1000)]

[Technique: Green Mountain Breathing Method (Great Perfection)]

[Realm: Skin Tempering (2/1000)]

As his realm improved, the Green Mountain Breathing Method seemed unable to keep up. Experience growth in the Skin Tempering Realm had slowed. From martial man to Skin Tempering, the breathing method's boost had reached its limit.

Still, that was only natural. It had never been some profound breathing method. The fact that it had provided so much help in the early stages was already an unexpected delight.

Chen Chong rose to his feet and looked around the courtyard.

More than a dozen corpses. These fellow servants had set out on a simple herb-gathering trip, only to die here for no reason at all.

That morning, they had still been climbing the mountain with bamboo baskets on their backs, chatting and laughing together. Now they all lay here.

He fell silent for a moment, then got to work.

He gathered up the scattered medicinal herbs and packed them together. Bupleurum, astragalus, dendrobium, angelica—mixed with blood, he picked them up one by one and placed them in his bamboo basket.

He stripped every person of their money. Copper coins and broken silver added up to more than three hundred coins in total. Then he stuffed the Rat Demon into a hemp sack as well.

After finishing everything, he slung the bamboo basket over his back, carried the hemp sack, and headed down the mountain.

Half an hour later, the walls of Dingshan County came into view.

The rammed-earth walls were bluish gray and roughly three zhang high, with withered yellow weeds growing along the top.

The city gates stood open. Above them, the two characters "Dingshan" were carved into the lintel, their bold strokes worn smooth by wind and rain.

A few guards stood sparsely atop the walls, leaning on long spears as they lazily basked in the sun.

At the foot of the walls, several children chased and played. An old man selling baked cakes pushed his cart toward the city gate.

Dusk rolled over from beyond the mountains, and wisps of cooking smoke rose from within the city.

Chen Chong took a deep breath and strode toward the city gate.