Eight Desolations Record of the Demoness

[Binding failed. Demoness's Admiration Points insufficient.]

Luo Fanchen froze. Several breaths passed before he confirmed that what he saw was no illusion.

He cautiously reached out to touch the seal script. The twisted characters instantly became a gilded book with only two pages. The first held Ling Moxue's information.

[Ling Moxue, Red Dust Demoness (With the sword in my hand, I shall sever every bond of the mortal world.)]

[Superior-Grade Metal and Fire Spiritual Roots. Current Admiration Points: -5.]

Luo Fanchen ran a fingertip over the page. At his touch, only her basic information and Admiration Points appeared. The rest remained dim, as though it had yet to be unlocked.

Judging by the display, Admiration Points topped out at five. A score of -5 probably meant a blood feud to the death.

The second page held his own information.

[Name: Luo Fanchen]

[Lifespan: 30/70]

[Spirit Root: Five-Element Spiritual Root]

[Cultivation: Third Level of Qi Refining]

[Cultivation Art: Longevity Art, Level Three (900/1000)]

[Techniques: Fire Curse Art, Beginner (30/100); Yi Wood Shield, Proficient (20/100); Golden Cicada Escape, Proficient (80/100); Smoke Cloud Escape, Mastered (1/100)]

[Demonesses available for binding: 1; accumulated Admiration Points: 0]

Luo Fanchen's pupils contracted. Breathing hard, he desperately circulated the pitiful trickle of spiritual energy within him and confirmed that he had not fallen under an illusion.

I've struggled through twenty grueling years. What took you so long?

Tears nearly sprang to Luo Fanchen's eyes. Was this the golden finger he remembered from his previous life?

He studied it briefly and, comparing it with his own command of the techniques and the panel's colors, worked out their proficiency levels.

Beginner, Proficient, Mastered—each minor stage would normally take at least several years of practice. Whether further levels existed remained unknown.

As for Admiration Points, they should be usable to improve his command of techniques. Naturally, Ling Moxue before him was the source.

"I-Immortal Master?"

Behind him, the old jailer's face crumpled like a twisted rope. He dropped trembling to his knees. Seeing Luo Fanchen's expression shift, he feared the trouble might spill onto him.

"Get up. I'm taking her out."

"Immortal Master, this creature is vicious. Our County Magistrate personally ordered her death."

"That's fine. Put it on my account. If your County Magistrate objects, he can come find me himself."

Luo Fanchen casually pried open Ling Moxue's jaw and stuffed a wad of rag into her mouth. He tossed the jailer a few bits of silver, leaving the old man grinning from ear to ear, then strolled away.

In the Dao Sect's eyes, he was no different from an ant. How different were these mortals in his eyes? It was simply big fish eating little fish.

A while later, carts and pedestrians crowded the streets. Luo Fanchen gripped a heavy iron chain more than two meters long, its far end fastened to the collar around Ling Moxue's neck. With her hands bound behind her, the Demoness stumbled along.

Mortals stopped to stare as they passed, glaring at Ling Moxue with contempt. Were it not for Luo Fanchen's status as an Immortal Master, rotten vegetables and stones would already have come flying.

"Your reputation really stinks."

Luo Fanchen's face remained as still as a lake, the clamor around him passing unheard. Ling Moxue bit her lip and lowered her head. Tears gathered in her reddened eyes.

Countless hateful gazes seared her like branding irons. Her fierce pride nearly burned her alive.

"What's your name?"

Luo Fanchen pulled the rag from her mouth.

"Beast."

"So you're not mute."

Luo Fanchen was in no hurry. He kept parading Ling Moxue through the streets, asking as they walked, dozens of times in succession.

Her initial curses gradually gave way to silent sobs. At last, exhausted and overcome by rage, she fainted. Luo Fanchen poured spiritual energy into her to wake her, then dragged her onward like a sheep.

Night deepened. They had walked through half the city, and Luo Fanchen's question still had not changed.

"What's your name?"

He asked every five steps. By the time dawn broke and pedestrians began filling the streets, Ling Moxue, drained in body and spirit, finally answered.

"Bastard. You already know."

"What's your name?"

"Are you deaf? Ling Moxue!"

"What's your name?"

After several more rounds, Ling Moxue drooped like a rooster beaten in a fight. "Ling Moxue," she mumbled.

Little killer. Got you at last.

Luo Fanchen stopped and gave Ling Moxue a teasing smile.

Ling Moxue kept grinding her small canine teeth. Hatred tried to surface on her haggard face, but fear held it back.

After a moment, Luo Fanchen decided his aim had been achieved. Everyone in Cloudmist City now knew that Ling Moxue belonged to an Immortal Master. That should deter petty villains.

Even if cultivators had their eyes on her, he had not revealed his cultivation. They would think twice before making a move.

For now, the little killer was safe.

Late that night, Luo Fanchen finished leading Ling Moxue through the whole of Cloudmist City.

Along the way, he noted more than ten viable escape routes and selected four residences near the city walls.

Carefully, Luo Fanchen set up paper Puppets to throw watchers off the trail, then chose one of the residences at random and moved in.

A secluded path led to the sprawling estate. Built around a courtyard, it had more than ten main rooms.

Luo Fanchen chose a cramped storeroom instead. Its loose soil would make digging a tunnel easier.

He formed a hand seal and cast a Dust-Cleansing Talisman. Though the talisman was of no grade, it swept away the dust. Within a few breaths, the room looked new.

"This is where you'll stay from now on. Rest first. We'll talk tomorrow."

Luo Fanchen took half a stick of incense from his sleeve and lit it. Pointing to the stone floor tiles beside the bed, he cut away Ling Moxue's shackles.

Freed of their weight, the girl thrust out her lips and bit hard into the web of Luo Fanchen's hand. When pain made her let go, she scrambled toward the window on hands and feet.

Luo Fanchen smiled. With a flick of his hand, several thin golden cords shot out, slipped beneath Ling Moxue's arms and behind her knees, and bound her tight as a wrapped rice dumpling.

"Bast—"

"Hmm?"

Ling Moxue's nose twitched. In the end, she yielded to Luo Fanchen's overbearing threat.

Her eyes wary, she scooted quietly into the corner farthest from him and curled up with her arms around her knees. The movement brushed the bruises on her back and wrists. Pain made the corners of her eyes tremble, but she uttered no sound.

She had long since grown used to the dungeon's wretched conditions. To be free of iron chains and have a clean floor beneath her was already paradise.

She had not slept in days. After holding out a while, she breathed in the faint scent of pine incense and grew dizzy.

Within a few breaths, Ling Moxue fell into a deep sleep, still curled up.

Only when her breathing had steadied did Luo Fanchen slowly open his eyes, rise, and extinguish the incense.

Ling Moxue was like a stray cat he had just taken in, bristling too fiercely to talk to.

But the girl had been weak for so long and was riddled with hidden injuries. Without at least basic treatment, her foundations might suffer. He might as well tend to her with medicine.

"Fellow Daoist Ling, your daughter is no easy child to deal with."

Luo Fanchen sighed. He took out a poor-quality, ungraded healing pill, dissolved it in hot water, and infused it with True Essence.

Soon the liquid thickened into a pale-brown paste like ointment.

Luo Fanchen laid Ling Moxue flat and finally got a proper look at her.

She was so thin her ribs showed, and her growth lagged far behind others her age. She stood only about a meter and a half tall.

Purple bruises and bloody marks covered her forearms and thighs. Old wounds overlapped new ones, long left without healing, and seemed on the verge of infection and suppuration.

Dark-red bruises ringed her joints and neck. Beneath her tattered clothes, scalding-red whip marks crossed her back.

"Tsk."

Luo Fanchen frowned and clicked his tongue. Hardly any part of Ling Moxue was unhurt. Had he arrived a few days later, the torture might have killed her.

He spread the ointment across his palm and carefully rubbed it along her neck.

Pain pinched the sleeping girl's face into a grimace. Though she did not wake, a stifled, beastlike growl rose from her throat.

Driven by instinct, Ling Moxue sank her teeth savagely into his palm. She tore and bit, and even when blood filled her mouth, she kept clawing at him with her nails.

Luo Fanchen's hand stilled. He caught the naked killing intent in her and narrowed his eyes.

The girl's vicious nature was plain. Murder seemed bred into her bones. She was a Demoness in the making who had slaughtered more than twenty blood relatives. Could he truly tame her?

Ling Moxue's Admiration Points toward him stood at -5 only because the display went no lower.

From what the Eight Desolations Record of the Demoness showed, he guessed binding her would require a score of two or three. He might spend his whole life trying and still fail to reform and bind Ling Moxue.

"Given her nature, she may become a grave threat. Teaching her to cultivate would do me more harm than good."

The web of Luo Fanchen's hand was wet and numb. He murmured under his breath, and killing intent surged in his heart.

She had killed her mother and slaughtered her kin—a wolf cub born with rebellion in her bones. For now, he could still subdue her.

But if he taught Ling Moxue to cultivate, her Superior-Grade Spiritual Roots would let her catch up to him in just a few years. Would she turn on him then, as she had on her mother?

While he hesitated, Luo Fanchen had already reversed his grip on his sword. A single thought would take her head.

If he could not bind her, she was nothing but a burden. As for the Foundation Establishment Treasure, he was merely at the third level of Qi Refining. Cultivating step by step, he might never reach the ninth level in his lifetime, let alone Foundation Establishment.

"Forgive me, Fellow Daoist Ling."

A fierce light entered Luo Fanchen's eyes. Too familiar with the cruelties of the cultivation world, he had grown suspicious of everything.

A benefit he might never obtain was not enough to make him keep a ticking bomb at his side.

"Mmm..."

The sword tip hovered a hair's breadth from the girl's neck. Ling Moxue gave a soft whimper, and tears dampened her collar.

Her battered, thin body curled in on itself, her pale little face scrunched with pain. Her teeth gradually loosened around the web of his hand. As though emerging from a nightmare, she put out her bloodstreaked tongue and gently licked the bite mark she had left there.

The girl wrapped her arms tightly around his forearm and pressed her face against it, unwilling to let go. Now and then, she murmured something.

Listening closely, Luo Fanchen made out a few calls of "Mother, Mother."

The sword trembled in his hand. Something flickered in Luo Fanchen's eyes. After a long while, he gave a soft sigh and silently sheathed the blade. He gently wiped the girl's wounds, lifted her into his arms, laid her on the bed, and covered her with a quilt.

So be it. I won't teach her to cultivate for now. There'll be time to kill her after I've questioned her.